A Green Valley Christmoose Disaster Read online

  Shelley and Dean exchanged a look that Linda couldn’t identify, a swift moment of silent communication that Linda was unexpectedly cut out of.

  “We can’t go to Cancun with you,” Shelley said apologetically. “Mom, I told you we were going to Madison for Christmas.”

  “You said that Aaron was going to Madison to see his mother,” Linda said, not sure why this wasn’t working out the way she’d planned. Didn’t they realize what she was doing for them?

  “We’re all going to Madison,” Shelley said gently as if she was the grownup in the room and Linda was the child. “We’re going to spend a few weeks over Christmas break with Juan and Deirdre to look at real estate in the area.”

  Linda felt dense. “You’re staying with his ex-wife? For a few weeks?” How was it possible that Shelley didn’t need to be rescued?

  “Yes,” Shelley assured her. “We’re all very good friends.”

  “With his ex-wife?” The idea was just so absurd that Linda had to confirm it. “In her house? I mean, I know they call it ex-mas...”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, we have to go to the school right now. I’m fitting costumes for the winter festival and Christmas pageant, and I told them I’d be there at the top of the hour. We have to pick Bingo up from the groomer on the way back and they close at three, so we’ve really got to go...”

  “Hang on,” Dean interrupted her, and he reached to fix the buttons on her blouse. They smiled at each other so intimately that Linda was almost embarrassed to be there.

  “Well, we’ll catch up over dinner then?” Linda offered. Who was Bingo? What was Bingo?

  Shelley and Dean were shrugging into their coats and Shelley reached for her purse. “Oh, we’re having a big early Christmas dinner tonight with everybody at Shaun’s.”

  “You should come!” Dean invited. “We’re meeting at six.”

  “I couldn’t intrude,” Linda said, feeling flustered.

  “Oh, Tawny makes enough food for an army!” Shelley assured her. “There is always room for a few more people at the table.”

  “Bring a date!” Dean teased.

  Who was Tawny? Linda wasn’t sure if she liked Dean feeling comfortable enough with her to tease.

  Shelley looked like she was having sudden reservations. “Dad will be there, of course,” she cautioned, as if it had just occurred to her, but she didn’t rescind the invitation.

  “Damien and I can be perfectly civil with each other,” Linda assured her. If Shelley could stay with her boyfriend’s ex-wife for a week, Linda could make polite conversation with her ex-husband over some roasted turkey. “I didn’t book a room because you said that you had a guest room and I was always welcome, but if it’s an imposition, I could find a hotel…”

  Dean and Shelley exchanged another one of those completely unspoken conversations. “No, no,” Shelley said swiftly. “Of course you can stay here. The guest room is yours.” She pointed back to an open door.

  “Make yourself at home,” Dean insisted. “Whatever you need.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, we really have to go…” Shelley gave Linda one quick hug and a peck on the cheek, then they were rushing out the back door to where a car was parked in the alley, the door slamming shut behind them.

  Linda stood in the empty house that they left behind them, looking around in confusion. It wasn’t dirty, exactly, but it was a picture of chaos, like the front yard, with lived-in clutter. There was a dog dish on a mat near the door, but it seemed impossible that Shelley lived with a dog. She was a lion shifter, what kind of dog would be comfortable living with an apex predator?

  But Shelley hadn’t looked or felt like an apex predator. She’d looked...happy. Not just satisfied, but deeply content in a way that Linda had never seen...or felt.

  Linda lifted her head. She was just going to have to make a new plan. Maybe Shaun would appreciate her surprise visit a little more. She’d stay here a night or two and go to Cancun by herself if she had to. She was a strong, independent woman who could travel alone and wasn’t going to be jealous of her daughter’s unexpected happiness. No, she wasn’t jealous, that was absurd.

  She peered into the guest room. There was a train set laid across the bed, and Shelley’s sewing table was littered with costume parts, but it would do for a few days.

  She left out the front door again, battling the screen door, to get her luggage and the Christmas gifts from the car, and she was thinking so fixedly about how much fun she would have traveling alone that she didn’t notice the giant black form until it was barreling down on her.

  It seemed to appear out of a snowbank, a huge, panting beast and Linda only saw its size and snarling mouth as it bore down on her. She was standing beside her car, with no time to get behind something or up in a tree somewhere safe and she fumbled with the handle and opened the door, hoping to somehow get inside before it was upon her even though it was coming at her with terrifying speed—and it squeezed right past her and jumped onto the seat.

  Linda slammed the door shut right after it and stood there shaking in fear.

  It went berserk, barking and bounding around in the backseat over her luggage, lunging at the door and licking the window.

  Linda’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. There was a violent, vicious dog the size of a small horse trapped in her car. It scrambled into the front seat, and then back, and Linda winced to think what it must be doing to her leather. She reached into her purse and found her phone, thumbing it on with shaking hands. She supposed she ought to be grateful she even had a signal here in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

  This rescue was not going at all the way she thought it would.

  CHAPTER 3

  When Turner pulled up behind the strange car, he had the lights on the fire truck flashing, but a “menacing dog” in someone’s car didn’t warrant the siren through the sleepy neighborhood. The woman pacing on the snowy sidewalk with the phone at her ear didn’t turn and probably didn’t notice the lights, between the daylight and the din of blinking Christmas lights.

  Turner was struck by a sudden desire to startle her by honking.

  He took his hand from the horn without pressing it and wondered at the impulse. Clearly, he’d been spending too much time with the pranksters at the high school; their high spirits and manic holiday mischief were starting to rub off on him.

  Shaking his head, Turner swung from the cab and the woman turned from her conversation and put the phone away in a pocket of her fur-trimmed white wool coat as she swept to meet him.

  The snow underneath Turner’s boot seemed to turn into ice, or possibly his knees went to water. When her blue eyes met Turner’s, he was suddenly, completely incapable of rational thought or grace.

  Mate! his moose trumpeted in his head, and it was a little like being caught in the stampede at the end of a school day as all of his wits fled the scene.

  With no conscious direction from his brain, his limbs all went their own directions and the sidewalk seemed to tip beneath him as his foot slipped in the slushy snow. Shifter instincts were all busy screeching in recognition, leaving him no reflexes to stop his downward progress, and before Turner could catch himself, he was on his ass in the snow.

  The woman his moose had responded to was standing over him now, her eyes wide in alarm, her perfect scarlet mouth a little O of surprise.

  “Are you here to rescue me?” she asked incredulously, staring down at him.

  That was when Turner remembered that he was still wearing the Santa Claus suit. “Have you been naughty?”

  He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to say something that inappropriate, but he was grateful that her face split into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. She didn’t quite laugh, and Turner realized that he had a new goal in his life. He was going to make her laugh—really laugh!—if it was the last thing he ever accomplished.

  She offered her gloved hand and he nearly pulled her down with him, only remembering how to control his legs so that he could st
and at the last moment. He didn’t want to let go once he was on his own feet, and she didn’t seem to want to either, continuing to smile tolerantly at him.

  His mate.

  She was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, with pale honey hair curling around her face, blue eyes like a summer sky, and kissable red lips. She was dressed all in white like an angel, with an expensive-looking fitted wool coat, impractical wool gloves, and fur-trimmed, high-heeled boots. She must be close to his own age, late forties or early fifties, with an ageless elegance like a silver screen star.

  “You have a...dog in your car?” Turner had to try really hard to look away from her, and he saw the problem at once. “Oh, that’s the Dresden’s new puppy.”

  “That’s a puppy?” the woman exclaimed in horror, extracting her hand from his at last. “It’s practically a horse!”

  The big black hound was howling from the passenger seat, wiggling and licking the window as he scrambled big paws against the edge of the door.

  “That’s Beast,” Turner said. He positioned himself between his mate and the car and opened the car door. “He’s a Great Dane. Beast, get out of the lady’s car.”

  The woman gave a little squeak of alarm and stepped closer to Turner, putting her hand on his arm as she peered carefully around him. Turner usually had a dim opinion of scaredy cats and fragile fainting flowers, but he found himself enjoying this role of protector.

  Beast galloped from the car straight into the snowbank, where he buried his face and fell over sideways, rolling so that all four of his giant paws were kicking in the air.

  The woman gave a shaky laugh. “I thought it might be a...hellhound or something.”

  “I don’t think Green Valley has a hellhound problem,” Turner assured her as she slowly let go of him. “But Beast is pretty big and can be exuberant. I’ll get him back to the Dresdens and remind them to get their fence fixed up.” He turned so he could look at her again, trying hard not to stare like one of his horny teenage students. She was so beautiful it made it hard to think.

  “You’re my hero, Mr. Claus. How can I repay you?”

  “Turner!” he blurted.

  “What?”

  “I’m John,” he added desperately. Never mind that no one ever called him that.

  She put her gloved hand out and he shook it again. “I’m Linda, John. Thank you for saving me from the hellpuppy.” Beast was still rolling around in the snowbank.

  Her hand was warm through the light glove, and Turner wondered if he imagined her pulse through it. “Linda John,” he echoed her.

  She chuckled—it didn’t quite count as a laugh. “I’m Linda,” she said patiently. “Linda Powell.”

  “Turner,” he said. “I mean, everyone calls me Turner.” He was an idiot. His brain caught up with her name. “I didn’t know Shaun had two sisters.” Now that he was looking for it, she did look a little like Shelley; he had thought at first that the resemblance was only because they were both so perfectly made up. She was like a doll.

  Linda’s cheeks went pink, but she looked pleased. “Oh, I like you,” she said in delight. “I’m Shelley’s mother.”

  Turner realized that he was still holding onto her hand, which was probably pretty awkward by this point, and he let go of it so quickly that he probably only made it worse. “Everyone likes Santa Claus. Will you let me take you out to dinner, Linda?”

  “In exchange for rescuing me from the giant black horse-dog?”

  Because you’re my mate, he wanted to say. Because there has never been another woman for me like you. He’d never even imagined a woman like her in his life but now he could imagine nothing else. “I would never ask for a date in return for doing my civic duty,” he said gruffly. “But I would very much like to take you out if you are willing.”

  “I think your civic duty is getting away,” Linda observed.

  CHAPTER 4

  The giant black not-a-hellhound had gotten bored of romping in the snowbank and rolled back onto its feet. It looked marginally friendlier now, panting and covered in snow, but it was still a lot of dog and Linda was very glad to have Santa Claus—Turner—beside her in case it charged her again. When a car door slammed somewhere down the block, the dog’s floppy ears pricked forward, and he took off into the street with a howl.

  To his credit, Turner did not actually swear, he only said, “Dang it, Beast!” and sprang into motion with a lot more grace and speed than Linda was consciously expecting. Possibly because he was wearing a Santa suit that hung on him rather unflatteringly, and he’d fallen on his ass the moment they met. In fact, he appeared to be quite appealingly athletic, as well as startlingly handsome.

  To Linda’s surprise, his sprint was actually equal to the puppy’s bolt, and he caught the dog by the collar at the far side of the road. “That’s not the way home, you mutt,” he said, hauling Beast back to Linda’s side. He barely had to lean over to hold on, the dog was that tall. Beast tried to twist around to lick him, and Turner gave him a kind pat on the head but didn’t offer to let go.

  “I didn’t get an answer about dinner,” Turner reminded Linda.

  Linda regarded him thoughtfully.

  She was used to turning heads and fielding date requests. She wasn’t used to feeling shy and girlish about it and Turner was clearly not just angling for her influence, since she had none here. He had a fresh, small-town honesty that was refreshing and an intriguing combination of self-confidence and fluster, like he was absolutely smitten with her, but not like he was embarrassed to be caught in a baggy Santa suit holding onto a squirming dog with one hand.

  And he was good-looking. Not just wholesome, but he had strong, symmetrical features and a piercing dark gaze that wouldn’t be out of place on a movie screen. He was just weathered enough to fall into the category of rugged, and probably only a few years older than Linda, who didn’t like to admit that she was approaching fifty. Under the red velour, his shoulders were quite broad and he had strong hands on Beast’s collar.

  Linda was surprised to find that she was reacting quite insistently to his presence. Now that her fright over the dog had ebbed, she was actually not much less excited, it was just for a whole new set of reasons. She wanted to slip him out of that ugly coat and see what he had underneath it, and she thought that those hands would do a fine job of—

  “Why don’t you come with me to dinner at Shaun’s tonight,” she said impulsively.

  Turner blinked at her skeptically. “Would it be an imposition?” he said skeptically. “Isn’t that a family thing?”

  A family thing that no one had thought to invite her to, Linda realized, though she reminded herself that there was no reason for them to know that she was going to be anywhere near the area. “Shelley assured me that there would be plenty of food,” she said firmly. You didn’t backpedal on an invitation. “Dean literally told me to bring a date.”

  “It’s a date?”

  If Turner was handsome before, the smile that bloomed on his face now was downright devastating. They really did grow them well out on the farm!

  Linda realized that she was smiling back, and she schooled her expression. “I would appreciate your escort,” she said formally. She started to give him her hand again, but Beast thought it was for him and lunged for her. She couldn’t quite keep herself from giving a little squeak, even though Turner hauled him back before the lolling tongue could get close to her.

  “Behave, Beast,” he growled.

  To Linda’s surprise, the dog did quiet, casting a cautious look sideways at Turner.

  A tiny warning bell went off in Linda’s head. She’d seen animals who had reactions like that...to shifters. A terrible thought occurred to her. Damien was a shifter, a fact that he hadn’t bothered to disclose to her until after they were already married and Shaun had started shifting. His secret had played no small role in their subsequent divorce.

  Could Turner be a shifter?

  He was certainly strong, and fast, and fit.
r />   With Beast under control, Turner extended his own hand, and they shared another breathless handshake that Linda couldn’t explain. She’d shaken plenty of hands, but she’d never wanted to cling to one quite like this.

  “Dinner is at six,” Linda said. “Will you pick me up here?” Even if he was a shifter, that wasn’t a deal breaker as far as Linda was concerned. Though how he decided to tell her would certainly make a big difference in her charity towards him.

  “I’d love to,” Turner said. Linda believed him, too; he really would love to, and she was surprised how delighted that made her feel.

  “I’ll see you then. Thank you for the rescue.”

  Beast tried again to lunge forward and lick her, but Turner kept him back with ease as Linda went back to her car for the luggage she’d come out for.

  She couldn’t help but watch him go as he coaxed the big dog up into the fire truck and took off down the street.

  A few hours later, she had settled into Shelley’s spare room and hung a few things in the closet when there was a great commotion out back.

  A dog—sure enough!—and a small boy who must be Aaron pelted in the back door together. The boy drew up in surprise, but the dog plowed headfirst into Linda’s knees, barking and jumping.

  “Bingo, down!” Shelley called, following behind with her arms full of costumes. “Mom, just put your knee up, he knows better.”

  Linda managed to deflect the loving leaps of a mangy little mutt who seemed an order of magnitude less alarming than the giant black dog that had startled her and said to the little boy, “Hello, Aaron.”

  “Are you my grandmother?” he wanted to know.

  Linda looked at Shelley in alarm as she wiped the dog’s spit from her hand. She knew that Shelley was surprisingly serious about this guy, but she hadn’t thought much about her own role as extended new family to Dean’s son. “I...uh...don’t know, honey.” She certainly didn’t want to hurt Aaron’s feelings. “I could be, if you want!”