A Very Maverick Christmas. Rachel Lee

of the two rooms she was working so hard on was a bathroom. Otherwise the cabin contained a larger room that held a small kitchen at one corner, an alcove beside the bathroom where she had a bed, and a beastly woodstove that terrified her because she’d never had to use one before, at least not that she could remember. As winter deepened, she prayed the power would stay on, because if it didn’t the heater wouldn’t work and she was going to get very cold. Maybe she should buy a kerosene space heater, although those were dangerous, too.

      Sighing, she rubbed her temples. For three days she hadn’t gone out her front door, not since the party at the Triple-T. What was with her? The town was familiar enough now that she felt all right when she walked the streets and shopped. The woods around the cabin were like a personal cathedral for her, offering peace and serenity. So what was she doing being a hermit?

      She stuffed her feet into her warm winter boots and pulled her parka off the peg. A bracing walk would do her good, clearing out cobwebs and probably settling her frantic ramblings. The winter snow was not yet deep, although she had been warned that it would get there soon enough. For now, though, she could walk in the woods or into town.

      She locked up the cabin behind her, then hesitated on the stoop. The woods or town? She needed a few things from the grocery, and increasingly she had a desire to find some splash of color to add to the cabin. The inside of it was almost dismal; age had faded everything so much. A throw pillow or two, or maybe just a small throw she could wrap herself in when it became drafty. The bedding was her only addition, and sadly she’d chosen a wintry look that right now didn’t help at all.

      Why did winter call to her anyway? What she needed as the days grew shorter, colder and darker, were some really bright colors.

      God, she couldn’t even bring herself to put a mark on the place where she lived. She seemed to spend all her time feeling as if she might have to bolt at any moment, a purely ridiculous idea. Certainly no one had made her feel that way.

      She figured she’d winter in this town then perhaps move on again if she unlocked nothing about herself. That, she thought, was her real problem: trying on places and people, then hitting the road to search for the key to her memory.

      But how could she put down roots? She had two huge fears: that she might plant herself in the wrong place and thus lose any chance of finding out who she was, and that she’d find out and not like what she learned. Given that those were polar opposites, she sometimes wondered what the heck she was doing.

      She turned toward the woods then changed her mind. If nothing else, she could bring at least one piece of cheer into that cabin. Maybe something Christmasy, given her reaction to Lily’s costume. Maybe Christmas held some kind of key for her.

      She’d bought a battered, secondhand car with some of the money she’d received for the sale of her coin, and she climbed into the blue monster now in case the day turned colder, or in case she actually splurged on something besides a few groceries. A Christmas tree? But then she’d have to decorate it.

      Shaking her head at her own indecision, she turned over the ignition. This heap might not look like much, but it had turned out to be amazingly reliable so far. Probably the good thing about buying locally. The garage owner had a reputation to maintain in a relatively small town.

      She was driving up Cedar toward the Crawford General Store when she spied that psychic Winona Cobbs, her white hair flying in the breeze. That woman made Julie uneasy, although she wasn’t sure exactly why. When Winona had given a talk back in August about listening to inner voices, she’d seemed slightly dotty but not crazy. Afterward, as Julie had been drawn forward to meet the woman, she had felt an almost electric zap. In that instant Winona had snapped her head around, looked at her then shrugged and returned to her conversation.

      Whatever it was that had happened, Julie had no desire to repeat the experience. It had been weird, even creepy.

      On a weekday morning, finding parking near the General Store was easy. Julie slid into a spot then pondered exactly what she intended to do there. Most folks here drove to Kalispell for major shopping, but the General Store had a bit of everything. She could not only get a few chicken breasts and veggies for dinner the next few nights, but she could also wander through a miserly selection of Western clothing and even some decorator items. She was almost positive she could find a pillow and a throw in here, although she’d have a bigger selection in Kalispell.

      That didn’t entice her to pull out. Small things that mattered very little weren’t enough to drag her to a bigger town. Her needs, both psychological and physical, could be met here.

      At least until she decided she needed to move on again.

      Shaking her head at herself, she climbed out and headed into the store. Although it hadn’t been destroyed in the flood last year, some repairs had obviously been necessary regardless, because the store had clearly been freshly painted not that long ago. It was certainly jammed with merchandise. The Crawford family was doing their best to give people a reason to shop locally.

      She didn’t get two steps inside the door before she was greeted by Nina Crawford Traub.

      “Nice to see you, Julie. Can I help you find something?”

      “Groceries, eventually, but I’m looking for a little color to add to my place.”

      “I can help with that,” Nina said cheerfully. “Got a whole bunch of new Christmas stuff in.”

      Which would be useless in little more than a month, Julie thought as she followed Nina. On the other hand, she was wondering if Christmas might hold some kind of key for her.

      Nina finally waved her hand expansively at an area clearly marked out for the holiday season. Thanksgiving items were marked down as the big day was nearly upon them. Christmas colors shrieked from a heaped table and some nearby racks.

      “Christmas tree decorations are in the back.” Nina pointed to her right, then her left. “If you want nonseasonal, look over there. Call if you need me.”

      A pretty impressive display for such a relatively small space, Julie thought as she began to wander around the table. Stockings, pillows, tree skirts, even some holiday-themed costume jewelry. Someone had tried to hit every possibility, including a basket of inexpensive stocking stuffers.

      But nothing struck her. Nothing touched her. Nothing seemed to jar anything within her. Well, if she was going to spend any money at all on brightening the place, she guessed the nonseasonal area would be the place to look.

      She was just fingering a bright blue throw, almost electric in its brilliance, when a familiar voice caused her to freeze.

      “Hi,” said Braden Traub. Then when she didn’t immediately answer, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

      Suddenly galvanized, embarrassed by what might appear to be rudeness, she turned and saw him half smiling at her. “You’re not,” she blurted, once again struck by how attractive he was. He wore a shearling jacket with gloves hanging out of the pockets, jeans and boots. An iconic man most women would drool over. She hoped she avoided that embarrassment.

      “I tore up a couple of shirts over the last week,” he said casually as if he didn’t mind starting a conversation in the middle. “Damn barbed wire. So I’m replacing them. That’s a pretty color you’re looking at there.”

      She glanced at the soft wool fabric between her fingers. “Yes, it is.” Then she made an effort. “I need to brighten my place up a little.”

      “You’re at the old cabin outside town, right?”

      “Yes.”

      “It needs brightening,” he agreed. “I haven’t been in there for a few years, but it needed some back then, too.”

      “Um...”

      “Yes?” he said encouragingly.

      “How could you tear shirts on barbed wire? Did it cut through your jacket?”

      His smile widened. “No