A Snow Country Christmas (The Carsons of Mustang Creek #4)(30)

“The interferers. Grace, Luce and Kelly will be just as bad.”

“Exactly.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his grim expression. “They’ll be fine. They interfere, but mean well.”

“Women just don’t operate like men.”

“Do you think?”

His grin was instant. “Think? Your presence seems to impair the process. No offense intended.”

“None taken.” She disengaged from his embrace. “If you can rinse dishes and hand them to me while I load the dishwasher, I’ll be yours for life.”

“Hey, I thought I was the one that made the deals. Don’t try and show me up.” He picked up a plate and flipped the lever on the faucet. “Obviously I accept your terms. We can negotiate the details.”





10

THE SKIERS WERE out in full force and Mick sat in a comfortable chair and watched out the window of his room as they careened down the slopes while he sipped a cup of coffee. It was clear and brilliant outside and he was in a reflective mood, watching the sunlight bounce off the sparkling snow.

I’ll be yours for life.

Now that was a thought.

She’d probably meant it in a different way than he took it, joking, not serious at all, but it had certainly struck a nerve.

He sat there and seriously considered marriage for the first time in his life.

That word had always scared him. It wasn’t the permanence of it, since half the people he knew were divorced—it was the emotional investment. Yet the true problem was that he was convinced it scared Raine even more. She’d opted out once already. Slater was a great guy but she’d given him a firm no when he proposed, and changing her mind was going to take more than the two of them enjoying a night in bed together.

So he really considered it over a second cup of coffee, and then called his brother. Ran answered pretty swiftly but he lived by his phone, even at this time of the year. Mick said, “Hi. How’s London?”

“Covered in white. Snowed last night. How’s Wyoming?”

“Ditto.”

“An ocean away and the same story. It must be Christmas. So what’s up?”

“I think I need a ring and Ingrid is no slouch in that department. Could you ask her to pick one out? I’ll write you a check when you’re back in the States, or I can send you the money now. We can get it sized here.”

His brother’s wife had been a jewelry store buyer before the two of them got married and remained a consummate gem shopper. They kept her jewelry in a safe.

“What kind of ring?”

“Engagement.”

“Are you joking around?” Ran sounded stunned. “You’re proposing to someone?”

“I’m going to give it a try. And if she says yes, moving to Wyoming full-time. I do half my business by phone or email, not to mention I have to fly from Los Angeles all the time anyway for meetings. I can do that from here.”

“You’d live in Wyoming?”

He chuckled at his brother’s horrified tone. “I realize Mustang Creek doesn’t have a ballet company or symphony orchestra, but the scenery alone makes up for that, and yes, I’d live here because she’s here and isn’t going anywhere and I wouldn’t ask it of her. I like it here anyway, you know that.”

“I know you keep going back and now I finally understand why.”

He thought about Bad Billy’s Burger Palace and Harry’s cooking, not to mention the resort. “Lots of good food choices, great schools, all the peace and quiet a man could want, and I doubt the sunsets could be beat by any place on earth. No shortage of beautiful women, either.” Grace, Luce, and Kelly certainly qualified, as did the wives of Slater’s friends he’d met. Not that he had eyes for anyone but Raine. “And I’m talking the type that don’t need a salon and expensive make-up artist to make it happen.”

His brother wasn’t without a sense of humor. “I might just visit then, to check out the scenery.”

“You’ll be welcome anytime. Tell Ingrid that Raine would probably like something different for the ring. She’s an artist. I don’t think she’d go for a two-carat marquis. She might turn me down on that one. Something really eclectic would work. Tell Ingrid I implicitly trust her and Raine has hazel eyes and dark hair.”

Randal Branson had never been all that imaginative. “The color of her hair and eyes matters...why?”

“I have no idea, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to arm Ingrid with enough information to find the perfect ring. Tell her to make it unusual, one of a kind even. Just like Raine.”

“I thought the romantic ideal was the man should pick out the ring.”

He wasn’t easily fooled. “Who picked out Ingrid’s? I’ve seen it. It’s tasteful, so don’t try to claim it was you.”

“Okay, you got me. She chose it herself and I was happy to let her.”

“I rest my case,” Mick said. “You’ll bring the ring back from London?”

“Ingrid has a lot of associates here. I think she’ll enjoy shopping for it and be really picky about the stone and setting. I’ve seen her in action. We fly back tomorrow and she wants to do some last-minute shopping so we were going out anyway. We’re invited to the Austins’ famous annual New Year’s party.”