Santa In Montana by Janet Dailey Page B

four?”
    â€œIsn’t Dad having one?” She glanced at him in surprise.
    â€œThat’s who the third one’s for, although he doesn’t know it yet.” He let the door swing closed and handed the milk jug to Sloan.
    â€œDidn’t you ask him?” Cat glanced his way with a questioning frown.
    â€œCouldn’t. He was on the phone.” Trey paused a beat, a teasing light suddenly dancing in his eyes. “Actually he was talking to your future husband—at least, according to Jake.”
    â€œMy—” Cat broke off that phrase. “He was on the phone with Wade Rogers.”
    â€œThat’s the man,” he confirmed.
    Was this a second chance? The question held Cat motionless for an instant. She honestly didn’t know whether it was or not. But she realized she would never find out if she didn’t take advantage of this opportunity. Ignoring the odd tingling sensation she felt, Cat moved toward the living room.
    â€œHey, you never said whether you wanted some cocoa,” Trey called after her.
    â€œNo, thanks.” The way her stomach was churning, she doubted she could keep it down.
    When she walked into the living room, two things registered at once—the sight of Jessy sitting alone on the couch and the closed doors to the den. Immediately Cat altered her course and crossed to the latter.
    She knocked once on the door and pushed it open. As she expected, Chase was seated behind the desk, the telephone to his ear. Irritation flickered in his expression as his gaze touched her.
    â€œJust a minute,” he said into the mouthpiece, then cupped a hand over it. “Did you need something, Cat?”
    Fighting back an almost paralyzing attack of nerves, Cat plunged ahead. “Trey said you were on the phone with Wade Rogers. I’d like to speak to him when you finish.”
    He showed his surprise at the request with the lift of an eyebrow and a long, considering look. Without responding directly to Cat, he removed his hand from the receiver’s mouthpiece and said into it, “Before I let you go, Wade, my daughter wants to speak to you. Hang on.” He held out the phone to her.
    For a moment her legs felt like jelly. Somehow Cat managed to cross to the desk and take the phone from him. “Mr. Rogers—”
    â€œWade,” he corrected, the deep, rich timbre of his voice spilling over and through her.
    â€œWade,” she said and started her speech again, aware that her voice sounded calm despite the chaos going on inside her. “I think I might have left you with the impression that I was only being polite when I said you would be welcome at the Triple C anytime. And that isn’t the case at all. If chance should bring you our way again, I do hope you’ll stop.”
    â€œDo you mean that?”
    â€œI do. Really.”
    â€œAs it happens, I’ll be in Montana the first of the week. I’d like to take you up on that invitation.”
    Cat gripped the phone a little tighter, conscious of the surge of gladness shooting through her. “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” She flicked a glance at her father. “I’ll give you back to my…”
    â€œNo need. Chase and I were finished. Tell him I’ll see him next week. Bye, Cat.”
    â€œGood-bye.” She handed the phone back to Chase. “He said he’d stop the first of the week.”
    Only a blind man would fail to notice the way Cat’s eyes were shining, and Chase was not blind. Wisely he chose not to comment on it.
    â€œI’m glad you told him we’d all welcome him,” he said instead.
    She gave him a narrowed look of sudden wariness. “Dad, when he comes, don’t you dare start in with that husband nonsense again.”
    â€œI wouldn’t dream of it. After all,” Chase added with a barely suppressed smile, “we wouldn’t want to scare him off, would