“Not exactly wilderness. Backcountry.” Jackson stopped. “I know you’re not a lover of Christmas trees, but does that one look all right to you?”
She followed his gaze. “Looks fine to me.”
He cut it down, secured it to the sledge and then dragged it home, taking each turn carefully as they followed the trail back to the resort.
A large SUV was parked outside the cabin and several sleds and boots lay abandoned by the entrance.
Jackson untied the tree and dragged it to the door. Then he picked up the chain saw, shaped the trunk and pushed it into a stand.
“Is that ours?” A young girl stood on the doorstep, watching as Jackson and Kayla hefted the tree up the steps.
“Yes. Do you like it?” He rested the tree and glanced at Kayla. Snow and pine needles clung to her hair and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. In his opinion she looked a million times better than she had in her office in New York.
“I love it.” The little girl stared at it in wonder just as the door opened and a young woman appeared, a toddler in her arms.
“Sophie, what— Oh—” She paused, enchanted. “It’s like a fairy tale tree.”
Jackson caught Kayla’s eye. Saw her turn her head away to hide the smile, because it was exactly as he’d predicted. That smile made him want to get the job over and done with as fast as possible.
Dinner, he thought. Only this time not at the Inn, but in his barn. In his large, custom-built kitchen with its views of the lake, and cooked not by Élise, but by himself. It was time to finally use those shiny pans.
And this time they wouldn’t be talking about work.
He took the weight of the tree. “I’ll bring it in for you.”
“Thanks—” Smiling, the woman held the cabin door wide and called over her shoulder. “Todd? Come and see this tree. Better still, come and help carry it.”
Jackson tried not to squash Kayla between the tree and the door but in the process ended up with his thigh jammed against hers.
“We’ll have it in the living room. Sophie—move the Lego so Mr. O’Neil doesn’t tread on it.” Baby on her hip, the woman commanded operations, and Jackson dumped the tree and extracted himself from clinging branches.
“You need to keep it watered.”
Sophie stared at the tree, eyes wide. “We have decorations.”
“Sounds good.” Jackson checked the tree was secure. “Well, I’ll just be—”
“Stay for a drink.” The woman smiled at him. “Todd just opened champagne. It’s one of our traditions the night we get the tree.”
“I’ll take Charlie.” The girl held out her arms for her brother. “See that, Charlie? Your present is going underneath it. And mine. Only four more sleeps until Santa comes.”
Jackson was about to ask what she wanted Santa to bring when he caught sight of Kayla’s face.
The healthy pink in her cheeks had faded and her skin was as white as the snow that clung to the branches.
Too late, he remembered she hated Christmas—and this whole damn place shrieked Christmas.
Damn.
He’d been ticking another job off his list. He hadn’t thought about the implications for Kayla.
As Todd came through the door bearing champagne, she moved to the door. “I have to get back to work. Enjoy your tree and have a happy Christmas.”
Jackson stepped toward her. “Kayla—”
But she was gone, out through the door, as light-footed as one of the white-tailed deer that sometimes ventured close to Snow Crystal.
He wanted to follow her, but a glass of champagne was thrust into his hand and Todd raised his glass.
“To the charms of Snow Crystal. The best-kept secret on earth.”
Hoping that it wouldn’t be a secret for much longer, Jackson drank. By the time he extracted himself from the festive glow radiating from the Waterman family, there was no sign of Kayla.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE about this?” Alice watched as Elizabeth picked up Maple’s bowl and rug. “What are you going to tell her?”
“The truth. That I need to go and help Élise in the kitchen and can’t leave Maple alone for that long.”
“I could watch her.”
“You have your book group.”
“I haven’t even read the book. The print was too small and the first page was depressing. I only go for the cake.” Alice studied her daughter-in-law over the top of her glasses. “You could give Maple to Jackson.”
“I’m giving her to Kayla.”
“She doesn’t seem like a dog person to me.” Alice unraveled a ball of yarn. “Doesn’t know what to do with the puppy. Steps over the animal like a pair of shoes left on the floor. Did you see the way she stroked her? Vertical pats.”