Dreaming Of Christmas: A Fool's Gold Christmas / Only Us: A Fool's Gold Holiday. Susan Mallery

the local butcher for the feral cat who had taken up residence with Priscilla and Reno.

      Evie and Dante were assigned the riding horses.

      “You know what you’re doing?” Shane asked.

      Evie sniffed. “Yes. We’ll be fine.”

      They walked toward the corral. Six horses trotted over to greet them. Dante hesitated.

      “They have really big teeth,” he said. “You’re okay with that?”

      She smiled. “Keep your fingers away from their teeth and you’ll be fine.”

      She took the knife Heidi had provided and sliced the apple in quarters, then put a piece on her hand, straightened her fingers so her palm was flat and offered it to the first horse. He took it gently, his lips barely brushing her skin.

      “Impressive,” Dante said and did the same with another quarter of apple.

      “Look out!” she yelled, just as the horse reached for him.

      He jumped back, dropping the apple piece. “What?”

      She grinned. “Nothing. Just messing with you.”

      “Charming.” He took another piece of apple and held it out to the horse. “Sorry about that,” he said. “You know women.”

      “Um, you’re talking to a girl horse.”

      “She understands just fine.”

      They finished giving the horses their holiday treats, then headed back to the house. When they stepped onto the porch, Dante paused. “Did you grow up here?”

      Evie looked out at the rolling hills of the ranch. The air was cool, but the sky blue. To the east, snow-capped mountains rose toward the sun.

      “Technically I was born in Fool’s Gold,” she admitted. “But I don’t remember much about it. We moved when I was pretty young.”

      Her earliest memories were of the tiny apartment they’d had in Los Angeles. The three boys had been crammed into the larger of the two bedrooms. May had taken the smaller bedroom for herself and Evie had slept on the sofa.

      “Are you happy to be back?”

      “I like teaching dance,” she said, willing to admit that much of the truth. “I wasn’t sure I would, but it’s gratifying. The girls are enthusiastic and excited to learn.” A few were talented, but she’d discovered she was less interested in skill than attitude when it came to her students.

      “Let me guess,” he said, glancing at her. “The clog dancing is your favorite.”

      She laughed. “It’s a very important art form.”

      “It’s loud and on top of my head.”

      For a second she allowed herself to get lost in his dark blue eyes. Then common sense took over, and she gave him her best sympathetic smile. “It’s for the children, Dante. Not everything is about you.”

      “It should be,” he grumbled. “Come on. The second half is starting.”

      “You know, I was run over by a football player only a few months ago. Does it occur to you that watching the game could be traumatic?”

      “Is it?”

      “No. I’m just saying it could be.”

      He wrapped his arm around her and drew her inside. “Stay close. I’ll protect you.”

      For a second she allowed herself to believe he wasn’t just being funny. That he was someone she could depend on. She knew better, of course. Her family had taught her that the people who were supposed to love you back usually didn’t and that it was far safer to simply be alone. She was done with love.

      * * *

      DINNER WAS MORE ENJOYABLE than Evie had allowed herself to hope was possible. With ten people sitting around a large table, it was easy to avoid awkward silences and difficult questions. Even more fortunate, May had sat at the opposite end, on the same side, so Evie didn’t have to try to avoid her at all.

      Once everyone had eaten their fill of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, vegetables, olives, rolls and a very confusing Jell-O mold, conversation turned to the holiday season in Fool’s Gold.

      “You pretty much need a schedule of events on the refrigerator,” Charlie was saying. “The town starts decorating this weekend. Next Saturday night is the tree lighting.”

      Heidi leaned against Rafe. “We’re doing hayrides.”

      Dante turned to her. “What?”

      Shane groaned. “Hayrides. Horses pulling sleighs.” He glanced out at the rapidly darkening night. “Or wagons if we don’t get snow.”

      Evie knew he sounded exasperated but guessed it was all an act. Shane liked everything about the ranch, including the close proximity to town. More important to him was how Annabelle enjoyed the holidays.

      She glanced around the table, startled to realize all her relatives were paired up. A year ago everyone had been single. Since the last holiday season, Rafe and May had both married and Shane and Clay had gotten engaged. Annabelle was pregnant. This time next year Shane and Annabelle would have their baby. Heidi and Charlie would probably be pregnant, and she would be gone.

      “I ate too much,” Glen, May’s husband, said as he pushed back from the table. “Wonderful dinner. Thank you.”

      May smiled at him. “It wasn’t just me. Everyone helped.”

      “Not me,” Evie said, suddenly wanting a few minutes away from her family. “So I insist on cleaning up. Everyone carry your plates into the kitchen, then leave me to it.”

      “You can’t do all the dishes yourself,” Heidi said.

      “There’s a brand-new dishwasher that says otherwise,” Evie told her.

      “I’ll help,” Dante said. “I’m good at taking orders.”

      “We all know that’s not true,” Rafe said. “But, hey, if he wants to wash, I say let him.”

      It only took a few minutes to clear the table. Heidi took charge of the leftovers and put them neatly away in the refrigerator, then Evie shooed her out so she could start rinsing the dishes. As promised, Dante stayed behind and began stacking serving pieces.

      May walked in. “I want to help.”

      Evie forced a smile. “You made most of the dinner. I can handle this.”

      Her mother stared at her. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

      Evie felt her shoulders slump. “Mom, it’s Thanksgiving. Why do you have to make me helping with cleanup more than it is?”

      “Because you’ve been avoiding me.” She pressed her lips together. “I know you had a difficult childhood and it’s my fault. It’s just that you…” Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away.

      Evie told herself to be sympathetic. That nothing would be gained by snapping or complaining. There was no new material here. Just the same half-truths and partial explanations.

      May sniffed. “Can’t you forgive me?”

      Evie folded her arms across her chest in what she knew was a protective and not very subtle gesture. “Sure. You’re forgiven.”

      “You’re still angry.” May drew in a breath. “I know I wasn’t there for you, when you were little. There were so many responsibilities.”

      “I’m sure it was difficult to raise four children on your own,” Evie told her. “But we both know that’s not the problem. The problem is you had a one-night stand a few months after your husband died, and I’m the result. The problem is, every time you look at me, you’re reminded of your moment of weakness. You