Undercover Christmas Read online

  All Marni needed was a chance to talk to Chase Calloway and decide for herself if he was avoiding Elise on his own—or because of his dictatorial father.

  “El, what if I talk to Chase and he doesn’t want a relationship with you or the baby?” she asked gingerly.

  “If Chase truly doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me or the baby, I’ll accept it,” Elise said with a dignity her bunny slippers belied. “But I know how he feels about kids. He said finding a woman to share his life with and having children was all he’d ever dreamed of.”

  Marni turned away to roll her eyes. Geez, couldn’t El tell a come-on when she heard one? “Okay. I’ll go up there and talk to him. I’ll give him one last chance.”

  Elise nodded. “You’ll see. He loves me.” She patted her round belly. “And our baby.”

  “I’ll go on one condition,” Marni said. “That you go to Mom’s—at least temporarily.” She expected an argument.

  But El readily agreed. Marni stared at her sister. Until that moment, she’d had no idea how much Chase Calloway meant to her twin. Marni cursed the man’s black heart.

  MARNI COULDN’T BELIEVE what she’d volunteered for as she took Dry Creek Road out of town headed for the Horseshoe Hills north of Bozeman. She wound through the snowy foothills that lay in the shadows of the Bridger mountain range. Farmhouses became fewer and farther between, and the road narrowed as she left civilization behind.

  Occasionally she’d catch her reflection in the rearview mirror, and do a startled double take at the woman who looked back at her. Elise had insisted on putting a russet rinse on Marni’s normally dark-blond, curly, shoulder-length hair. Marni had drawn the line at chopping it off to look like El’s short wedge.

  “He’ll just have to think I let my hair grow,” she told her twin. “El, are you sure there’s no chance that this guy really doesn’t remember you?”

  El laughed. “Not after the four days we spent together.” Her eyes sparkled. “It was…magical.”

  Magical. Marni suspected that wasn’t the way Chase Calloway would describe it, especially now that Elise was pregnant

  “Here, let’s do something with your makeup,” El had said. “Then we’ll call my friend at the costume shop and get you a maternity form.”

  Elise had filled her in on how she and Chase had met, where they’d gone and what they’d done, just in case she needed those details to get past Jabe Calloway to Chase. Marni only hoped she could keep it all straight. The last thing she wanted was to get caught in this whopper of a lie.

  The deejay on the radio cut into Marni’s nervous thoughts with more disturbing news. A winter-storm warning. Great, exactly what she needed. “White Christmas” began to play on the radio. How appropriate. Well, it was too late now, she thought, looking at the darkening sky. All she could hope was that she’d get finished with Chase Calloway before the storm hit. And that he’d have some reasonable explanation for his disappearing act, just as El believed.

  But common sense told Marni that Chase’s father wasn’t keeping him away from Elise; he was just using the old man as an excuse. Even if Jabe Calloway had forbidden his son to acknowledge El and the baby, and Chase had conformed to his father’s wishes, what kind of man did that make Chase?

  No, Marni decided as she headed up the canyon, there was nothing about Chase Calloway she was going to like. She dropped down a hill through the snowy pines into Maudlow, an old railroad town with an abandoned clapboard hotel and gas station-grocery. Signs over the ancient fuel pumps outside listed gasoline at thirty-seven cents a gallon.

  Marni hung a left at Maudlow, driving past the old schoolhouse on the hill up Sixteenmile Creek, and felt her first real trepidation.

  The canyon narrowed in a thick fringe of snowcapped pine trees, rocky cliffs and creek bottom. She followed the winding frozen waters of the creek farther up the dead-end road and into the darkness of the approaching storm. She could feel the temperature plummeting outside her four-wheel-drive wagon and realized she hadn’t seen another vehicle on the road since the Poison Hollow turnoff.

  She cranked up the heater and rubbed her cold fingers as she looked anxiously to the snowy road ahead. A Montana native, she knew how quickly the weather could change. Especially in December. But it wasn’t the cold or the storm that worried her. It was not knowing what lay ahead in this isolated part of the country.

  She’d convinced herself that she’d missed the turnoff, when she saw the sign. Calloway Ranch. She shifted down, amazed at how cumbersome the maternity form was. How did pregnant women drive? She felt like a hippo out of water.

  She turned up the road, feeling even more isolation as she crossed the creek on the narrow one-lane bridge and drove into another narrow dark canyon.

  To her surprise the canyon opened up and in the middle of the small valley sat a huge, Gothic-looking house. It towered three stories. Nothing about it looked hospitable. No Christmas lights stretched across the eaves. Nor did any blink at the windows. Under the grayness of the approaching storm, the place looked dismal and downright sinister. Not that she’d expected a warm reception.

  Marni pulled her car in front of it and cut the engine. She sat for a moment, rehearsing. She was Elise Mc-Cumber. She checked herself in the mirror. Nice eye shadow, El. She was seven months pregnant. She patted the maternity form. “How ya doin’, ‘Sam’?”

  Then she shook her head in disbelief that she was doing such a fool thing and opened the car door.

  It didn’t look as if anyone was home. No dogs ran out to greet or bite her. What few vehicles were parked along the side of the house were snow-covered. What kind of ranch was this? Didn’t El say they raised horses?

  An uneasiness raised goose bumps on her skin. She looked up. A face peered out at her from a tiny window under the eave above the third floor. Then the face was gone. But the uneasy feeling remained.

  “Well, someone’s home,” Marni muttered. “And the family now knows I’m here.” She took a deep breath and mounted the steps.

  An older woman answered the door with a dish towel in her free hand. “Yes?” she inquired, giving Marni a disdainful once-over.

  “I’m Ma—Elise McCumber,” Marni said. “I’m here to see Chase Calloway.”

  “And what may I say this is in regard to?” she asked, even more cool and reserved than before. Unless Marni missed her guess, this was the same woman she’d spoken with on the phone earlier.

  “It’s personal,” Marni said meaningfully as she opened her coat and patted “Sam.”

  The woman rocked back on her sensible shoes.

  “Would you please tell Mr. Calloway I’m here. Elise McCumber.” Marni started to step into the foyer but the woman blocked her way.

  “Mr. Calloway isn’t seeing—”

  “I’ll take care of this, Hilda,” called a male voice from some distance behind the woman.

  The moment Hilda moved out of the doorway, Marni stepped in from the cold, breathing a sigh of relief. She’d gotten her foot in the door, so to speak.

  Marni wasn’t surprised to find the inside of the house as forbidding as the outside. The interior provided little warmth, from the dark hardwood floors and trim to the somber wallpaper and heavy dusky draperies. In the corner sat an artificial Christmas tree, flocked white and decorated with matching gold balls positioned perfectly around its uniform boughs. So different from the McCumber tree at the farm with its wild array of colorful ornaments, each homemade and placed on the tree by the McCumber kids.

  At the sound of boots on the wooden floor, Marni turned to see a large older man in western clothing coming down the hall. He filled the hallway with his size alone—he had to be close to six foot six—but also with his imposing manner. Marni took a wild guess. Jabe Calloway.

  “Yes?” he asked, assessing her with sharp, pale blue eyes. He seemed surprised by what he saw. “You’re inquiring about my son?”

  Marni watched the housekeeper scurry toward the back of the house as if the place w
ere in flames.

  “I’m Elise McCumber,” she said, saying the name over and over in her head like a mantra. Or a curse. “And you’re…?”

  “Jabe Calloway,” he said, plainly irritated. “What is it you want with my son?”

  “I want to talk to him. What it’s about is between Chase and me.” A strange sound made Marni turn. She blinked in surprise as a younger man hobbled into view from down the same hallway Hilda had disappeared. Marni told herself this couldn’t be Chase Calloway.

  “Chase,” his father said, also turning at the sound. “There’s no reason to concern yourself with this. Ms. McCumber was just leaving.”

  “But this is my concern,” Chase said.

  Under normal circumstances, Marni would have reacted poorly to the fact that Jabe Calloway was trying to shuffle her off without even a chance to talk to his son. But what was normal about any of this?

  She stared at Chase, too surprised to speak. She’d just assumed he’d be handsome, knowing El. But this man set new standards for the word, from his broad shoulders and slim hips to his long denim-clad legs. He had a thick cap of wild dark hair that fell over his forehead above a pair of blue eyes that put his father’s to shame. The resemblance between the two men was remarkable. But while Chase had his father’s strong, masterful features, his mouth was wider, his lips more sensual, even turned down as they were now. He was the kind of man women dreamed of. This explained a lot.

  Chase’s muscular shoulders were draped over a pair of crutches. He limped toward her, his jeans trimmed to allow for the cast on his broken left leg. Eyes downcast, he seemed intent on maneuvering the crutches across the slick floor. Or on avoiding looking at her. On closer inspection, Marni decided it was the latter. The coward.

  A few feet from her, he stopped and looked up for the first time, his pale blue eyes welding her feet to the floor.

  Marni didn’t move an eyelash as his gaze flicked over her. Would he recognize her for the impostor she was?

  He frowned, those blue eyes intent on her face. She let out a silent oath. She knew this wouldn’t work; any man who’d been intimate with a woman would know whether or not she was his lover when he saw her. One look at this man, and Marni knew she’d never be able to fool him. He made her feel as if he could see beyond the dye job and the eye shadow right into her deceitful soul.

  “I wondered when you’d show up here,” Chase said.

  So much for that theory. “What did you expect?”

  His gaze dropped to her swollen abdomen, then insolently moved back up to her face. His eyes iced over. “Not this.”

  She shot him a look that she hoped would give him frostbite. Had he thought Elise wasn’t serious when she’d told him she was pregnant? Or maybe he thought by rejecting her she’d just go away.

  “We need to talk about the baby,” Marni said, putting a protective hand over “Sam.”

  Chase clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing. “The baby? I thought I told you on the phone, this wasn’t going to work. What is it you want?”

  “For you to own up to what you’ve done and accept some of the responsibility,” Marni snapped.

  Hushed voices drifted down from the second floor.

  “For what I’ve done?” Chase demanded. He seemed to be fighting to keep his voice down. “What are you trying to pull here?”

  The muffled voices silenced. Marni looked up to see a small crowd gathered at the top of the wide, circular staircase. All eyes stared down at her.

  “This is not the place to discuss this,” Jabe interjected abruptly. “Let’s take it into the library.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Chase said, locking his gaze with hers. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. But I can assure you of one thing, that…baby…isn’t mine.”

  Chapter Two

  After that stunning declaration, Chase turned on his crutches and hobbled off without a backward glance.

  Marni started after him, planning to use one of his crutches to help refresh his memory, but Jabe put a firm hand on her arm.

  “I’d like a word with you in private,” Jabe said. “Come this way.”

  She had a word for him—and his son. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but you and I have nothing to discuss. Your son, on the other hand, is a whole different matter.” She heard a door slam in the direction from which Chase had disappeared. The group at the top of the stairs didn’t even bother to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping.

  Jabe studied her with a look of mild surprise. “I think you’re wrong about that, Ms. McCumber, I believe you and I might have a great deal to talk about.” He motioned toward an open doorway down the opposite hall. “Please?”

  Marni had a feeling the word didn’t come easy to him. And although she suspected he planned to read her the riot act once they were behind closed doors, she also saw it as an opportunity to share a few choice words she had for him about his son.

  “You might be right,” she said to Jabe.

  The group at the top of the stairs descended in a scurry of curiosity before Jabe and Marni could escape. The oldest of the women broke free of the others and approached them.

  “Is there a problem?” she inquired, pretending to ignore Marni. She had a diamond the size of Rhode Island on her ring finger and wore her marital status like a badge of honor. This had to be Mrs. Jabe Calloway.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with, Vanessa,” Jabe assured her. “Go on in to dinner. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Vanessa looked as if she’d been dragged into her late fifties kicking and screaming. From the bleached blond hair of the perfect pageboy to her tightly stretched facial features, she looked like a woman at war with the aging process.

  She gave Marni a disdainful look, hesitating on the protruding belly for one wrathful moment before she turned and swept away. Over her shoulder she said, “Don’t be late, dear. You know how Hilda hates it when you’re late.”

  Her words sounded hollow, lacking authority. It was obvious who ran this household, just as Elise had told her.

  Marni took a calming breath as she followed Jabe Calloway down the hall. She reminded herself why she’d come here. To talk to Chase. To give him a chance to explain, if not rectify, the situation. To give Chase a chance, period. Because Elise loved the man. Although at this moment, good looks aside, Marni could not fathom why.

  THE LIBRARY WAS as large and masculine as Jabe himself. He motioned to a chestnut-colored leather couch that spanned one wall. Built-in bookshelves bordered the room. A huge rock fireplace stretched across the only open wall. An oversize brown leather recliner hunkered in front of it. Several other chairs were scattered around. Everything in the room seemed to have been sized to one man—Jabe Calloway.

  Marni scanned the bookshelves as she headed for the couch, curious if the books were for looks only or if someone in this family actually read them.

  “Do you like to read?” Jabe asked from behind her.

  She nodded as she spotted one of her favorites and pulled it from the shelf, surprised to find the cover worn.

  “You’re a Jane Austen fan, too?” Jabe asked.

  Marni turned, the copy of Pride and Prejudice still in her hand. Jabe Calloway didn’t seem to be someone who would enjoy Austen.

  “She’s one of Chase’s favorites.”

  “Really?” Marni said, her surprised gaze momentarily connecting with his before she put the book back and went to the couch. “I didn’t know that.” She was beginning to realize how little she knew about Chase Calloway; she wondered how much Elise really knew.

  “The subject of books probably never came up,” Jabe said as he took a seat across from her.

  She started to sit on the couch, forgot how awkward sitting was “pregnant” and basically fell into the soft, deep, low sofa.

  “Did Chase tell you about this house?” Jabe asked, obviously making small talk, probably thinking he could mollify her once he had her alone. “It was built by a wealthy horse thief turned
politician a hundred years ago.”

  She didn’t comment, not half as impressed with the horse thief as he was. Nor was she interested in this house.

  He must have realized that. He quit smiling and leaned back in his chair, studying her openly. “Tell me about my son.”

  Was he serious? “Has he always tried to avoid responsibility?” she asked instead, attempting to get comfortable in the deep couch in her present condition. She ended up resting her arms on Sam.

  Jabe seemed to consider her question. “No, as a matter of fact. Chase has always taken his responsibilities very seriously. That’s why I’m surprised by his attitude toward you.”

  “Me, too,” Marni said. Although, in truth, she wasn’t all that surprised. Furious, yes. Surprised, no.

  “I have to be honest with you, Ms. McCumber, you aren’t what I expected,” Jabe said. “When I heard that a woman was calling here, claiming to be pregnant with Chase’s child, well—” He waved a big hand through the air as if it went without saying what he thought. He settled his gaze on her, his look almost kind, but Marni feared he could spot her for the fraud she was.

  “Tell me, if you wouldn’t mind, how did the two of you meet,” Jabe said.

  Marni licked her dry lips and related to Jabe the story Elise had told her. But unlike El, Marni began at the beginning. “It started with a little fender bender in Bozeman last June.”

  “Really?” Jabe said. “In one of the ranch trucks or one of Chase’s cars?”

  Marni met his eyes. So this was a test. “The ranch’s white truck, the three-quarter ton with the stock rack and the words Calloway Ranches printed in dark blue on the doors.”

  He nodded with an apologetic smile. “Please continue.”

  Marni told him everything El had told her. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how much time and patience a person had, Elise had a way of recounting the smallest, most insignificant details, often overlooking the big picture. It was the thespian in her.