Mistletoe Mistake (River's End Ranch Book 35) Read online

  Allen looked up as the woman who’d nudged her neighbor walked up to the table.

  “Congratulations, Fred, Olivia,” the older woman said. She wore a purple headband over her silver hair and a purple dress.

  “Thank you, Jaclyn,” Fred said as he stood and gave the woman a hug. “Jaclyn, please meet my new family members.” They stood as he introduced Jaclyn to everyone.

  “Jaclyn’s been at the ranch since before I was born,” he said to the group as way of introduction.

  “I certainly have,” she said, her eyes trained on Gillian, who didn’t seem to notice.

  She then looked straight at him, and he tugged at his collar as her clear eyes seemed to bore into him.

  “I have a place over by the RV park. One that Fred and Olivia avoided, I might add, although it didn’t work.”

  Allen wasn’t sure what made them all laugh when she said that.

  The woman then looked from Allen to Aaron and back to Allen. Her brow furrowed and she tugged at her headband before turning to Gillian.

  “Gillian, dear, it’s been ages since you’ve been to visit. Stop by, would you?”

  “What? Oh, I’m terribly busy, Jaclyn, with the silent auction items for the Jingle-Bell Jam. Maybe after the holidays?”

  “Hm,” Jaclyn said as she looked around the table then settled on Fred. “It must run in the family.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Gillian asked. “I promise I’ll visit as soon as I can.”

  “Of course you will,” Jaclyn said. “Oh, are you all coming to the fundraiser?” Her bright smile was directed in Allen’s direction—and Aaron’s. “You simply must come. Both of you,” she insisted.

  “Oh, of course. Where are my manners. You all are coming, aren’t you? I have extra tickets right here.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out an envelope, handing one to each brother. “I’ll have our tickets at home,” she said, nodding at Opal also. “I think you’ll enjoy it, and it’s the major fundraiser for the year. And one of our only formal events.”

  Allen held the ticket in his hand, staring at it. “I’m not one for formal events, honestly. The wedding was about as formal as I get.”

  Opal rolled her eyes. “Come on, Dad. It’ll be fun. We’ll all be there. Won’t we, Uncle Aaron?”

  Allen turned to his brother, who was staring at Jaclyn with a quizzical look.

  “Of course,” he said slowly as he turned back toward the table. “We’ll be there. Won’t we, Allen?”

  “I suppose,” Allen said. His girls looked so hopeful, and his new son-in-law, too. Wouldn’t do to disappoint them, no matter how much he’d rather eat dirt.

  They all stood as Jaclyn left, promising to see them at the gala. Gillian excused herself to collect the donations from Kelsey’s Kafe with the same promise—to see them all at the gala. Fred and Olivia took their leave with hugs all around, taking Opal with them back to Riston. She’d taken her belongings the day before so that Aaron and Allen could stay in the cabin.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Aaron said as Allen drove toward the cottage.

  “Um, yeah, it was,” Allen said, wondering about that odd woman and wondering how he’d agreed to go to a formal event, but not wanting to disappoint his daughters.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you at a formal affair since—well, ever,” Aaron said. “You sure you’re up to it?”

  Allen frowned. “I can do it. The girls want us to go.”

  “I know they do, and I admire your agreement. It could be fun, you know. Gillian seems charming, and that Jaclyn is quite interesting.”

  “Interesting, yeah,” Allen said as he rounded the bend toward their cabin, although he thought he might have chosen a different word.

  “So it’s a plan, then. You know, you have the truck. Maybe you should offer to help Gillian with her solicitations for the gala.”

  Allen felt like Aaron was speaking a different language. He was just a simple hardware store owner, and he had been his whole life—until he sold the store. Aaron was the one who knew about formal attire and galas and—solicitations.

  “You can borrow the truck, if you’d like.”

  Aaron laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Don’t do it if you don’t want to. I’m not sure I’ll be recovered from my trip tomorrow. And besides, she said she didn’t want any help.”

  “Right. She did,” Allen said as they pulled up to the cabin. He ran his hand through his hair as he parked, then grabbed Aaron’s suitcase.

  Chapter 6

  “Gillian, it’s getting late. Do I need to start feeding you like I do Fred?” a soft voice asked as Gillian looked up from the stack of papers on her desk.

  “I’m sorry, Carol Ann,” Gillian said with a smile. “I’m not hungry, so please don’t worry.” She took off her reading glasses and set them on her desk as she rubbed her eyes. She’d taken her shoes off long ago and wiggled her toes that had fallen asleep while she’d been deep in problem-solving. Olivia had worked up several scenarios for the Franklins and Gillian had been anxious to see them. She was quite impressed at Olivia’s thoroughness, and still had quite a few options to go through.

  Carol Ann Green had been with the bank working with the Whartons since she was a teenager, and Gillian considered her a very good friend. She’d taken good care of Fred’s father all those hours at the bank when their son was little and Gillian stayed home with him. She never needed to worry about her husband having something to eat, and when it was Fred III’s turn to work late nights, Mrs. Green took care of him, too. It seemed that now it was Gillian’s time to be worried about.

  “The Jingle-Bell Jam is almost here. It sure came fast. How did the donations for the silent auction go?” Carol Ann asked as she sat in the chair opposite Gillian’s desk.

  “It’s going to be a great year. We should raise quite a tidy sum for the charities. So far, I’ve collected a lovely painting, several fantastic gift baskets, gift certificates to almost every restaurant in town, including the ranch, and even a trip,” she said, excited that the town’s residents had been so generous.

  “A trip? That’s fantastic. To where?”

  Gillian reached in her bag and pulled out a full-color brochure and held it out to Carol Ann.

  “Oh, my goodness. Who donated this?” she asked as she flipped through the pages of the pamphlet, her eyes wide.

  Gillian cleared her throat and looked away. She’d never been able to lie very well, and she was hoping that the donation could be anonymous.

  “You didn’t. This is the cruise you’ve been planning for months and months. You can’t donate it. You’ve always wanted to go to Europe, and this is the perfect trip. All those castles!” Carol Ann said as she set the brochure on the desk. “You have to go.”

  “Well, I was looking forward to the castles as well as the tickets to Wimbledon. I’ve always wanted to see the best tennis in the world.”

  “I know you have. You and Mr. Wharton talked about it all the time.”

  Gillian picked up the picture of her late husband that had rested on her desk for as long as she’d worked at the bank. He was so handsome, with kind eyes and a fishing pole in his hand. He’d grown up in Riston, and when she fell in love with him, she fell in love with Idaho, too. Somehow, they’d never managed to get away, although they’d always talked about it.

  She didn’t regret it, and she picked up the brochure and put it back in her bag.

  “You know, with Fred and Olivia married now—and who knows, maybe grandchildren on the horizon—I don’t know that it’s something I need to do. I might as well donate it so someone else can enjoy it.”

  Carol Ann hesitated for a moment before she spoke. “Gillian, please reconsider. I’d been hoping that you might meet somebody on that trip. I know Fred wants you to go.”

  Gillian laughed. “Fred? Meet someone? If he and Olivia had their way, I’d be playing footsies with Olivia’s father.”

  “Oh!” Carol Ann said. “He is very handso
me. Are you interested?”

  “I’m not interested in anyone, truly. The kids were wiggling their eyebrows, and it was embarrassing. I don’t think Allen’s interested, either. It’s fine.”

  “Gillian, please just keep an open mind. Even if you want to give up the trip, don’t close yourself off to options.”

  “Honestly, Carol Ann, I haven’t even thought about it. It’s not on my radar. I have a bank to run, a son who’s just gotten married and Christmas is coming. I have lots to look forward to. That is if I can get all these silent auction items sorted and get through the fundraiser.”

  “Do you need any more help?”

  Gillian pinched her nose and leaned back in her chair. She smiled at her dear friend, but wished she wouldn’t worry so.

  They both started as someone rapped on the window.

  “Speak of the devil,” Carol Ann whispered as Gillian stared at the window. Allen Hamilton smiled and waved, stomping his feet in the cold. He blew into his hands and headed toward the door that Carol Ann had unlocked before inviting him in.

  Carol Ann ushered him into her office and he walked in with a smile. Over his shoulder, Gillian frowned as Carol Ann wiggled her eyebrows. Not her, too!

  “Allen, I’d like you to meet my friend, Carol Ann. Carol Ann, this is—”

  “Allen Hamilton. We met at the wedding,” she said as she stepped forward and shook his hand.

  Allen nodded and said, “Oh, yes. Nice to see you again, Carol Ann,” and he turned to watch as she left the office, closing the door behind her with a smile.

  “She’s very nice,” Allen said as he looked around the office. “Wow, this is pretty fancy. Very elegant.”

  She looked around her office, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes. It didn’t look all that fancy to her. The building was one of the oldest in Riston and they’d taken care to restore it to its original splendor, complete with mahogany walls and a copper ceiling.

  “Thank you,” she said as she gestured to one of the chairs opposite her desk and sat down beside him. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise,” she heard herself say as she looked at him. He took off his blue knit hat and ran his hands through his black hair, and she once again noticed the silver at his temples. He really was handsome, she had to admit. His jeans and cowboy boots even looked familiar, like what her husband would wear when he took Fred fishing when he was a boy.

  “I know you said you didn’t need any help with the gala, but I’ve been thinking—I have a truck, and maybe I could be helpful. My brother’s probably going to sleep off his jet lag tomorrow, but if you need him to help as well, I’m sure he would. He’s a helping kind of guy, too,” he said with a laugh.

  “That’s really kind of you, Allen. It really is. I think I can manage, though.”

  “Well, more hands make for lighter work. I know you can do it on your own, but honestly, you’re running out of time if the gala’s tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  Gillian’s eyes grew wide and she spun to look at the calendar on the wall.

  “Oh, no. It’s tomorrow, isn’t it? I thought I had another day. Good grief.” She plopped back down in her chair. There was no way she’d be able to pick up the remaining items, get the tables and gala set up and have time to change before it started unless—unless she took him up on his offer.

  She really did enjoy his company. She didn’t agree with Carol Ann at all about any potential sparks between them, but he could turn out to be a friend. And she was pretty positive that he felt the same. What harm could there be in spending the day together? And she actually could use a truck and an extra pair of hands to pick up some of the remaining items. From what she’d been told, there were a couple of heavy art pieces, and she really would appreciate the help. She could ask Fred and Olivia but—well, here Allen was offering. And it wasn’t like it was a date or anything. Just a friend.

  She sighed and squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Allen. I’d appreciate the help. I don’t know how those days got by me, but now I really am in a pickle.”

  “Great,” Allen said as he pulled on his cap with a wide smile. “Happy to help. What time shall I pick you up?”

  She tapped her pen on the desk and ran her finger down the list of remaining items.

  “I think nine o’clock should do it. If we run things over to the event, that should give us time to go home and change before the event actually starts.” She looked up and smiled, grateful for his offer. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and nodded. Carol Ann let him out the door and Gillian sat back down in her chair, watching out the window as he got in his truck and headed back toward River’s End Ranch.

  Chapter 7

  “I think this is the last of them,” Allen said as he set down a beautiful, framed picture of Heron Lake on the tables Gillian had set up around the perimeter of the room. Christmas music played in the background and she’d set out the tablecloths and artfully arranged the auction sheets. “This is a huge undertaking, Gillian,” he said. “How did you ever do this by yourself before?”

  She laughed as he carefully set down the last item—an odd, free-form sculpture.

  “I still think this looks like a duck,” he said as he dusted his hands off on his pants.

  She covered her smile with her hand. “Ssh. I think the artist meant it to be a lion.”

  He laughed and looked at the sculpture. “Maybe it’s the duck the lion wants to eat, but that’s as close as it can get in my imagination.”

  She laughed out loud and handed Allen a handful of pens. He started at the end of the row, setting one on each sheet.

  He’d picked her up at nine and they’d been as efficient as they could. She hadn’t had time to stop and chat with people, but they’d squeezed in lunch at the Chinese restaurant, and she’d found out more about him. They’d laughed through lunch and shared stories of their children—who were now Mrs. and Mrs. Fred Wharton, III.

  “Isn’t it strange that our children are married? And might have children of their own?”

  “Likely will, I’d say. Olivia’s wanted a big family since I can remember,” he’d said. “She had all her dolls lined up in a row, names for all of them. But don’t tell her I told you. That was before she discovered math.”

  They’d had a nice day, and Gillian couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so much. Beyond that, she truly appreciated his company and his help. But as she watched him set down the pens, she thought they’d joked more like friends than anything else.

  Whitney from Pushing Daisies walked in with a big box in tow, and she pushed her thoughts aside.

  “Hi, Whitney,” Gillian said and she introduced her to Allen, who took the box from her.

  “Nice to meet you,” Whitney said as she nodded at the gesture.

  “Can we help you? The flowers look beautiful...and done. What have you got now?”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” she said as she pulled open the box. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much mistletoe in my life. I ordered some for the fundraiser, but the supplier sent more than I asked for. They didn’t want it back so—well, I guess we’ll have mistletoe everywhere we can think of. In Old Town, too, for the Christmas celebrations. Hope everybody likes each other really well.”

  “Do you need help?” Gillian asked as they set the last pens on the auction sheets.

  “No, no, I have help, but thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “You’d better hurry and change,” she said as she surveyed the ceilings and reached for a handful of mistletoe. “I’ve got this. Just look up when you come back to see where it ends up.” She winked at Gillian as she turned to Allen and nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  Allen waved and turned back to Gillian, pink creeping up from his collar.

  Gillian wasn’t sure what to think, but she gathered her purse and coat, knowing she’d had a very nice time getting to know Allen but not at all sure she wanted to be under the mistletoe with him—or anybody else, for that matter.

  “Than
k you for all your help, Allen,” she said after they’d chatted on the ride back to Riston.

  “See you in a couple of hours,” he said as he dropped her off at the house and set off back to the ranch to get ready for the gala.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she glanced at her watch after she’d set down her purse and coat. Fred and Olivia must be getting ready, too. She didn’t have much time to get dressed and she hopped in the shower, drying her hair as quickly as she could. She’d been so busy with the wedding and the silent auction that she hadn’t even chosen what to wear.

  She flipped through the side of her closet that held her fancy dresses—some were so old she’d worn them when Fred’s father was alive—but she skipped to one she’d bought the previous winter, thinking she might wear it to this year’s winter gala. She’d forgotten all about it.

  She rarely dressed up anymore. Her bank attire was mostly business suits—lighter in the summer, but suits nonetheless. She couldn’t remember what prompted her to buy this dress as she wasn’t much of a shopper.

  As she zipped it up, she turned toward the mirror and stopped short. The dress was one her husband would have loved—red velvet and a little form-fitting. She tugged at it—her body today certainly wasn’t the body her husband knew, before they had Fred and certainly not after. But for the first time in a long time, she really considered what she looked like.

  Not all that bad, she decided, as she reached for the diamonds that she thought might complement the simple dress.

  She applied a little bit of makeup—she couldn’t muster up the interest for much more than mascara and blush at her age, but reached for some eyeliner. It was a party, after all. Why not?

  She put her last earring on as she slipped on her black pumps and walked out into the kitchen.

  “Woo-hoo,” Fred said as she clipped on a diamond tennis bracelet. “You look different, Mom.”

  Olivia stared, her eyes wide. Gillian smiled—with this reaction, she must look pretty awful—or dowdy—every day at work. She’d never thought about it much before, but maybe she should. It just hadn’t mattered to her much.