A Snow Country Christmas (The Carsons of Mustang Creek #4)(34)

Good cause, he typed back. I’ll help, of course. You should get my mother involved.

Had he really just said that, in writing, no less?

Instantly he recanted. He loved his mother but she had a tendency to take charge and definite ideas on how things should be done. Or maybe not. She might take over.

We were talking about how we need someone to maybe run a foundation. Do you think she would?

Oh, I think you’d maybe raise a monster from the depths, but if you want meticulous management, she’s your woman. That was honest.

Monster or not, she could be just what we need.

I can obviously get you in touch with her. Can we have dinner tomorrow?

We can but I have something else in mind. Call me in the morning.

Like?

Just call. And sweet dreams.

She didn’t write anything further.

If he knew Raine she’d gone right back to work. He did the same, not returning to the manuscript but instead answering emails and checking his messages since he’d basically taken the day off. No news, no stock market updates, none of his usual routine, just moonlight on the snow and a sense of personal well-being.

He had no illusions that this was all going to be simple. Making a major change never was an easy process, but if he trusted his instincts at all, he had to accept that it was time.

*

Occasionally she got some pretty harebrained ideas.

Raine had to admit this could be one of them. She strapped the toboggan to the top of her SUV and Daisy clapped, her eyes shining. She was going to be taller than her mother, Raine had already figured out, taking more after Slater in that regard, and had that coltish lack of grace that would change as she matured. In any case, she was young enough to still think sledding was big fun, and maybe Raine was too, since she agreed. Samson seemed just as excited, romping through the snow.

Some kids never grew up.

Some grown-ups—namely her—just wanted to see Mick Branson rocket down a wicked hill on a toboggan. She could probably sell pictures of that. She knew the steep hill, and since she doubted he had a proper coat for this experience, had asked Slater if she could borrow one. They were very close to the same build. Of course the answer had been an amused yes once she explained why she was asking. He even said he’d love to film it, but his crew was all off on Christmas break.

“That’s what my phone is for,” she’d assured him. She could catch a short video of the urbane Mr. Branson careening down the slope if he had the fortitude to accept the challenge.

She somehow thought he would. So far he’d proven to be unshakable, even in the face of the entire Carson family, Jangles and his sneak attacks, talking to her grandmother, whipping up a dinner extraordinaire...

She’d see if those nerves of steel held up.

Red called it Dead Man’s Hill and it was certainly a wild ride. He was the first person to point her in that direction with the admonishment it was not for the faint of heart. He was right. But the snow was perfect and it wouldn’t be winter if she didn’t at least go down that hill once a week, and Daisy loved it. Mick could decline if he wanted, but she had a feeling he would be game.

Raine doubted anything tripped him up, but she had to admit she was eager to see the look on his face when he first saw that slope. If a person didn’t have a moment of doubt, then they just weren’t sensible. What they decided after they stared down that 45 degree angle and thought it was maybe a bad decision but looked like it might be really fun, well, that was up to them.

Red had wisely counseled that if you didn’t panic like a sheep that had eaten loco weed then you would be fine. Raine was uncertain how a sheep that had ingested that plant did act, but it sounded like solid advice to just enjoy the experience.

Mick pulled up, right on time as usual, and got out of his fancy rental, eyeing the contraptions strapped to the top of her car. “You’ve been out sledding?”

“No. Not yet.”

“I’m beginning to see the light. This is why you told me to wear jeans.”

“Yep,” she responded cheerfully. “Hop in. I have the right kind of coat for you and Mace offered up a spare pair of snow boots since some hiking is involved. The good news for you is you get to carry the big toboggan. Don’t worry, I have a thermos of hot cocoa.”

“It had better have some whiskey in it,” he said darkly, but gamely climbed in the passenger side on the car.

She jumped in and started the vehicle. “Has Mr. Boardroom ever been sledding?”

“Maybe when I was about thirty years younger. Are you sure my feeble body can take this?” He buckled his seat belt.

She eyed his muscular frame and broad shoulders with true appreciation. “I think you’ll survive.”

“I guess I have no choice but to find out. I’m being...what’s the expression out here in the wilds? Railroaded?”

“That’s the one.” She pulled out onto the street, which was clearing nicely after being plowed. The abundant sunshine helped, too, even though the temps were still below freezing.

Samson woofed from his spot next to Daisy in the back seat. “We’re bringing the dog?”

“He loves it. I think he can ride down the slopes with you. At the bottom you get a special bonus since he always licks your face in exuberant gratitude.”

“That takes dogsledding to an interesting level.” He looked resigned. “This just gets better all the time. I was thinking a fire and maybe a glass of wine.”