Her Hometown Hero (Page 64)

“Not a great idea. They might get a bit upset when they find out you don’t have anything to offer them.”

Sage reached out to the deer anyway, but the one in the lead got spooked and ran off. The others followed.

“We need to go,” Spence told her. He lifted her inside the truck, then quickly moved around to the driver’s side.

Once he started the engine and the heater kicked in, Sage began shivering. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d become. Though she’d layered up, brutal temperatures like these really seeped in.

“Now we need to get into town and pick up ornaments,” he announced.

“You don’t have any? Everyone has ornaments.”

“No. This will be my first tree at my own place. We’ve always had one at Dad’s, after all. There wasn’t room for one while I was in school, and I just didn’t bother when I was in Seattle. What was the point? I was there on my own,” he said with a shrug.

“That’s . . . sad,” she said. “Even when I was in my small dorm room, I’d get one of those little trees they have in pots. It wasn’t much, but I put tiny lights and decorations on it. It made me smile. When I left for home for the break, I would take the tree to a shelter nearby and they loved it. It’s not Christmas without a tree.”

“Agreed. But I always came home for Christmas—when I didn’t have to work, at least. I just never felt the need to decorate. You’ll have to come to the ranch, though. Dad goes all out.”

“So does my grandma. I’ve been so busy with work, and then it seems I’m with you during all my free time. I really should get over there. She’s probably been sad that I’m so close to town now, but not bothering to visit.”

“Ha. You don’t know your grandmother that well, then,” Spence said. “She and Eileen and Maggie seem to have events planned for every night of the week. They play poker, have a dance class, and run the local toy drive. This is a busy time of year for them.”

“They play poker? How would you even know that?” Sage couldn’t picture her grandmother, Maggie Winchester, and the very petite Eileen Gagnon playing poker. In her imagination, only burly old guys smoking cigars and guzzling whiskey did such a thing.

Spence chuckled. “I know a few people who have complained about the girls being sharks and wiping them out.”

“I just can’t believe it. I wonder what else I’ve missed out on while I was in med school.”

“Don’t worry. If there’s anything you’ve missed out on, you will hear about it. There are no secrets in Sterling, I’m afraid.”

“That’s something I’ve always hated about this place, Spence. Absolutely no privacy.”

“On a positive note, there’s little crime because no one can get away with anything.”

“Except for Grace,” she grumbled.

“You clearly need a partner in crime—a top-rate detective—to help you find some answers.”

“And you’re telling me that you’re that detective?” She couldn’t hide her skepticism. Still, Camden was his brother.

“I’m a man of many skills, Sage.”

She agreed with that statement 100 percent.

They somehow managed to make it down the mountain, then pulled up in front of the only store in Sterling that carried tree ornaments. Spence practically cleaned the place out of supplies, making the shop owner a happy man. Christmas was only a week away, and the fellow had most likely been thinking he’d have to unload it all at clearance prices. On the other hand, the dust Sage found on some of the packages suggested that the man just stored unsold holiday stuff and brought it out again the next year.

She wasn’t entirely happy with their purchases, and not because of the dust. “None of this matches,” she complained as she walked with him to the truck.

“That will be the beauty of my tree. Its seeming lack of organization will make it look even more cheerful.”

Those were hardly words to convince a woman like Sage. Still, she’d do her best to make it look as beautiful as possible. She was incapable of doing anything less.

“No, no, no!” Sage guarded the tree with her feet spaced apart and her hands on her hips. He was slaughtering this decorating party. She’d tried to be patient, tried to stand back and let him do what he wanted. It was his tree, after all. But she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Was he doing it on purpose to get a reaction from her? If he was, he’d win hands down, because, after suffering so long in silence, she simply had to intervene.

“What? I think it looks great,” he said, eyeing the mishmash of ornaments in many colors and shapes that were placed at random on the noble tree. Some were pushed deeper inside their branches, and some clung for dear life right on the edge. Some were jumbled up together and others were miles apart.

This was a disaster. Her side looked perfect—okay, as perfect as it could look with the ornaments she’d been given. But Spence’s side looked terrible.

“You’re kidding. You have to be kidding,” she said, pushing him back when he tried to hang another ornament. She held out her hand and glared, daring him not to give it to her.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, dangling the bright red sphere on his finger.

“Yes, hand it over,” she said, her foot beginning to tap.

“But I have the perfect place for it, Sage.” He moved toward the tree.

She held out her hand. “No.” This had to be the most stupid fight she’d ever had with another person, but she was putting her foot down. He’d asked for her help on the tree and he was doing a grave injustice to the lush foliage by making it look so all-fired ugly.