A Hamilton Christmas (HIS Series Book 9) Page 3

  Blake smiled, thoughtful as he watched them go.

  “I think Brandon and Reagan are going to try to get into trouble,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’ll keep things entertaining.” He turned to the clerk at the reception desk. “They’re here.” The man nodded and stepped into a room behind the desk and returned with two men who could probably carry one of the SUVs inside. Shaking his head at the nonsense, Blake zipped up his jacket and put on gloves and a hat. While he’d lived through cold and snow in Maryland, Colorado snow was the real deal.

  “I’ll speak with Chef and be right there,” Elizabeth said.

  He nodded, but her retreating back couldn’t see it. Into the cold he went.

  As he’d expected, his oldest son drove the lead vehicle. Before Jesse could place the SUV in Park, a little spitfire jumped from the back seat, made it down the cleared walkway, and launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist so tightly she nearly popped his spine. When had she become so strong? Not that he wasn’t glad she could probably hold her own but wasn’t she supposed to be into dolls and little girly things? He sure as hell hoped so because he’d bought her a first-time sewing machine and a vanity desk and chair that were supposed to be popular with girls her age. Maybe he should’ve chosen the trampoline.

  Missing the last few months with them hadn’t been something he’d enjoyed. Hell, he’d retired from the Senate to spend more time with them. The time had passed. Moving forward, things would be the way they should. Perfect.

  “I’ve missed you, Poppy.” From the first moment he held her in his arms, she’d wrapped his heart with a special kind of love. The kind a first-born grandchild garnered.

  Reagan always brought a smile to his lips. For most of her life, she hadn’t had any female influence. From her infancy, his sons stepped in and helped Jesse raise her. Pride swelled within him. They’d done an excellent job. Kate has taken the reins, and his granddaughter had blossomed.

  As Reagan moved away, Jason approached him wearily. This was whom he needed to be spending time with so the teenager knew he was loved by all of the family. His sons had done a wonderful job making sure Jason knew he was a part of the family, but Blake needed to do it also.

  The oldest of his grandchildren, Jason, also held a special place in his heart. Adopted or not, he was a Hamilton. The teenager had dealt with a lot in his life, including looking death in the eyes. With the assistance of Kate and Jesse, the best doctors, and the grace of God, he was still with them. Blake suddenly felt the weight of his age when he realized it could be as little as a few years before Jason handed him a great-grandchild to hold. He couldn’t be old enough to be a great grandfather, surely?

  Jason held out his hand to shake his grandfather’s. Blake looked down at it wondering how to handle this the best way. Did Jason not want a family hug? In the past, they’d hugged or shaken hands. Did he feel too old to do it? Or—and Blake hoped this wasn’t the case—he didn’t feel enough for his grandfather to hug him? Jesse stood near them, observing. Whether he was judging his son or his father, Blake wasn’t sure, but it wouldn’t affect this moment.

  In no way would he make his grandson think things were formal between them—no matter Jason’s reason. He’d find a way to overcome whatever the teenager thought. “Put your hand down, son.” He ensured to add “son” to his statement. He opened his arms for the boy. “Come here and give your grandpa a hug.”

  Relief slid on the teenager’s face. Yes, his earlier vow was true. He definitely needed to spend more time with Jason. He’d be off to college soon, which meant time was already slipping away too fast.

  Holding him tightly, Blake whispered in his grandson’s ear, “I love you, son.”

  The small sniff that sometimes preceded tears had him pull back in case Jason was about to cry. Blake didn’t want Jason to feel embarrassed.

  As they turned to face the family and vehicles, Blake lightly slapped Jason on his shoulder blades. His sons and daughter stood, quietly watching the two of them. Feeling the need to defend himself—from what he wasn’t exactly sure—he opened his mouth to speak and Devon—his second oldest son—pointed to his wife, Rylee, who directed a cell phone on him and Jason.

  “She’s videoing,” Devon announced. “She plans to do it all weekend, so watch yourself or she’ll have the funniest videos on social media.”

  A few groans overrode Brad’s chuckle.

  Perusing the group, he noticed a few of the women lined up, also pointing their phones at him. It was like facing the press corps in his Senate days. He half expected questions to be launched at him. The rule was always take control, so he grinned and pointed to Brad—one of his twin sons. “Up front, gray jacket, you get one question.”

  The group laughed, but as he’d expect, Brad asked a question with a twinkle in his eyes and a sly grin. “When’s happy hour?”

  Another round of laughter hit the group, and then they returned to their vehicles to unload. The two men from the lodge quickly walked over and assisted, while the women and children headed inside.

  When he walked inside to see if the women needed assistance, and maybe hold one of his grandchildren, the shrieking of the younger kids bounced around the room. A happy smile crossed his face and contentment filled him. They’d found the Christmas tree. He’d half expected that he’d have to go out and chop one himself, but one day, a monstrous one appeared, and Elizabeth went to work. She’d managed to mix elegance and youth with the decorations on the twelve-foot spruce.

  With all the trees he’d seen decorated at Congress, in politicians’ and even at his home, this one felt like family more than any. Maybe it was because his family had changed from a few boys and a girl to all the additions.

  He moved to the side when the workers, his sons, and Jason filed in with their hands full. The two men approached the reception desk where his daughter and daughters-in-law accepted keycards to their rooms. Amber and Ace excitedly told their moms how Santa would put presents under the big tree.

  As the two men returned with luggage, the women, kids, and staff trudged up the stairs. So much for holding a little one.

  With all the activity since they’d arrived, it reminded him of organized chaos. After the women settled, a second round of luggage was delivered. This time, quiet ensued as the men reached their rooms.

  Blake managed to suppress a sigh. He’d hoped to have a few minutes with them, but he’d let them get settled first. He stopped one of the staff, Duncan—he hoped that was his name because he’d been calling him that since meeting him—and asked him to tell the family a buffet lunch would be served in an hour and dinner would be at six.

  The men nodded and retreated.

  The pressing thing was how he’d tell his family his secret. Although it shouldn’t, he knew—without a doubt—things would change in his family.

  “DON’T FORGET ME,” Amber shouted to her older cousin as they each left their rooms. Reagan and Jason had a separate one from their parents because they were the oldest. She liked that her parents let her stay with her brother.

  With things to do, she placed her finger on her lips. “Shh.” Her low voice was just shy of a whisper. She’d have preferred to go it alone, but Amber would only follow her if left behind.

  Copying her, like Amber always did, she put her finger to her lips and said the same thing. Only louder.

  Her mother told her she should be honored Amber wanted to be just like her. After she’d whined about it a bit, her mom had reminded her that it didn’t hurt anything. But that didn’t mean she had to always like it.

  She waved her hand for Amber to follow. Amazingly, Amber skipped to her. Skipped. Reagan grinned at her younger cousin. Even when Amber did silly things, Reagan might get frustrated, but she loved her cousin. She loved all eleven cousins.

  Together, she and Amber scurried down the beautiful wood stairs. “What’s wrong? Why’d you shake your head?” Amber’s curious face scrunched.

  She hadn’t
realized she’d actually done that when she meant to do it in her head. She’d better come up with something good. The first thing she thought of would probably have Amber’s lower lip poking out, but it was the truth. “I was thinking, we won’t be able to make snowmen today.”

  Stepping down the final step, Amber didn’t seem to notice the beautiful lobby that—as Aunt Em said—took one’s breath away. It’d definitely been a big “Wow” from her. It was warm enough she didn’t have to wear her heavy coat, but being near the windows, the temperature dropped.

  Amber huffed. “I know. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Surprised and proud of how Amber handled that, Reagan gave her a big smile. She pulled her older version iPhone from her jeans pocket and took pictures of the lobby while also doing small video clips. Everything was wood, but not the same color or type. Most of it was a medium color and really shiny. The columns were huge. She and Amber tried to wrap their arms around one and failed. Maybe if they connected arms….

  “I wish Mom and Dad would buy me a phone.” Amber twirled some of her hair with her finger, looking out into—Reagan turned to check—space since nothing of interest was where her gaze was directed.

  When Reagan had turned nine, her dad had taken her phone shopping. On the drive from the Apple store, he’d set some rules, which she’d scrunched her nose at. But they hadn’t been too bad, so she hadn’t argued.

  “Wow, this is pretty.” Amber noticed what surrounded them.

  Pretty wasn’t a strong enough word. The humongous cast iron fireplace in the middle of the room was fantastic and to stay so warm, someone had to chop a lot of wood. She turned in a circle to video and then snapped pictures. When someone photobombed her last pic, she squinted, wondering who the man was. He kept looking around like he was waiting on someone—which wasn’t unusual—but when he saw her and Amber, he rushed off.

  Curiosity made her want to follow him and see what had put that weird look on his face, but she was with Amber. No way could she take her. Amber hadn’t learned stealth off her Uncle Brad like Reagan had.

  “Reagan,” Amber huffed. “You aren’t even listening to me.”

  True, but she wouldn’t admit it and hurt Amber’s feelings. “Sure I was.”

  Her cousin’s fists went to her waist, and she tried to look fierce. Amber looked like a pixie—or at least what she’d learned about them in a book. How could anything make her fierce? Reagan’s brain whirled, hoping she could grab something she’d heard while thinking. “You want to, like, slide down the banister?” Okay, that’s what she wanted to do too, but with how they’d designed it, it was too short for her. Maybe not for Amber.

  Her cousin rolled her eyes. “Of course I wanna do that, but that wasn’t what I said.” Her voice rose and firmed on the last few words.

  Crap, she’d made her mad.

  “I saaaiid—” stretching out the word, Amber continued, “—I want to go jump in those big piles of snow.”

  Reagan looked out the front window, and the piles of snow did draw her, but she knew they couldn’t go alone. She could see it now. Her dad would show up and lecture her on keeping Amber safe when they were together since she was oldest. He might confine her to her room for a couple of hours. A frown accompanied her sadness. That wouldn’t do. She had exploring to do. She wanted to know every nook and cranny of the lodge. Which also meant she’d have to ditch her cousin part of the time. She pursed her lips at how selfish that sounded. The discussion her dad and mom had about a being the bigger person and patient replayed in her mind. If she wanted them to see her as responsible, she had to do what they said.

  “Whatcha think?”

  Reagan hated to burst the happy bubble around Amber, but she had to be honest. All her uncles taught her that. Even Uncle Brad. Although he was teaching her how to avoid it if saying it would hurt someone’s feelings. She should’ve paid more attention instead of asking him about all the people he protected in the Secret Service. “I don’t think we should go without our dads.” If the adults arrived, her dad would toss her in, and if he didn’t, one of her uncles would. Then one of them would probably have to help her out once she sank to the ground. Maybe it could be family fun.

  Her gut told her she needed to learn the lay of the land—like people in HIS would say—first. Thinking of the mysterious man—at least she thought that, but she could be trying to make it a mystery—she hustled across the grayish tile floor.

  She’d finish her pics later. The man had been gone for minutes, so she might not catch his trail. For some reason, words, code words, and stuff from HIS stuck with her and she didn’t mind one bit. Her target—she smiled at another term she’d learned— had to be another guest because her grandpa had told her they reserved nine of the fourteen rooms. She couldn’t wait to meet the other guests. She’d thought she’d seen a boy when they’d checked in peeking behind a column. He’d disappeared when he saw her staring. He might be at dinner.

  Reagan had continued to pry the information from Poppy, and he’d told her there were two couples and two businessmen in the other rooms—one couple around Poppy’s age and the other much younger. That rounded out the fourteen rooms in the lodge.

  When she was grown, she wanted to travel a lot and not just on HIS and HERS ops. Except Dad told her she needed to join the military or law enforcement before she could join the family business. She knew he meant “run,” like him, but she hadn’t corrected him. His other requirement was college also, and, even though it wasn’t required for the teams—only Hamiltons—she hadn’t argued because it might be fun. At least on the TV it looked fun. But she wouldn’t do the wet T-shirt contest or be that girl where her top was removed on the beach. That’d embarrass her. Nobody saw her growing boobies.

  Almost forgetting her companion, she squeezed her eyes to keep her mind focused. Turning to Amber—who’d followed her complaining about the pics Aunt Em took of Leslie—she finished with, “I don’t remember her taking so many pictures of me.”

  Reagan shrugged off that thought because she knew her mom and dad wouldn’t do that. They’d most likely taken only a couple of pictures. Then her mind came to a screeching halt. Her uncles had tons of pictures of her. That went on her list of things to do. She wanted all those pictures since some were embarrassing.

  Reminding Amber to stop talking, she placed her finger on her lips. “Shh, let’s be quiet for a few minutes.”

  Of course, her cousin automatically said, “Why?” in a loud voice.

  She wasn’t sure if she would hire Amber to work for her. Frowning, she knew her father would remind her that it was the family business and Amber was family. Trying to copy the glare her mom gave to her dad, she put the full force of it on Amber.

  Before she could tell her to shush one more time, her cousin asked, “What’s wrong with your face? It looks all scrunched up.” Amber’s eyes widened. “Are you sick? Mom can make everything better. Just yesterday, when I came to her with a scratched-up knee that really hurt, she kissed it and put on a little magic gel and a Band-Aid on it. My knee felt better in no time.”

  Amber had so much growing up to do, and she hoped Uncle Brad helped because he was good at it. Uncle Jake and Aunt Em might not like it though. Mentally shaking her head, Reagan knew it wouldn’t stop Uncle Brad. She’d learned so long ago that the kiss didn’t make a scratch better, the medicine did. Her parents had used that “magic medicine” on her also, but she was wise to them now. But she wouldn’t be the one to tell her truth. Her cousin still believed in the tooth fairy, Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus.

  Deciding it was best to tell Amber her plan, she whispered, “There’s a man I thought was suspicious and I wanted to follow him. But we’ve got to be really quiet. Can you do that?”

  Amber opened her eyes wide. Reagan cringed when she opened her mouth to speak. Her cousin surprised her with a nod instead.

  At the intersection of hallways, Reagan squelched her eagerness and peeked around the corner and thanked her lucky stars. The m
an had too much time to disappear before they caught up with him. He slipped from a room she hadn’t seen and walked down the hall in the opposite direction toward the rooms. After he turned the corner, she and Amber moved swiftly and quietly down the adjoining hall.

  Reagan stopped them at the door he’d exited. It didn’t have a label, and all the guests’ rooms were upstairs. Her gaze swept the hallway to see if anyone was around. Seeing no one, she held her breath and slowly opened the door. Her mouth dropped in shock. This had been the last thing she’d expected.

  Amber tried to push her way in front, but Reagan stopped her and closed the door.

  “What was it?”

  This had become a stupid investigation. While she felt like a failure, she had a feeling something bad was going to happen today, and she wanted to stop it. Turning her head to her cousin, she leaned down to whisper in Amber’s ear. Excitement burst from her cousin. She hated letting her down, but she wouldn’t lie. “It was the kitchen.”

  Amber looked up at her while the excitement that had surrounded her cousin dimmed. She placed her hands on her hips. “Are you sure or are you making fun of me?”

  “No, that’s what it is. Do you want to see?”

  Her cousin almost jumped out of her clothes waiting for Reagan to lead her.

  “Okay, just be quiet. We don’t want to disturb them or—” Her thoughts shifted. Why had the man they followed been in there? Her mind raced. He might’ve had the cook agree—probably under duress—to poison everyone. She definitely had more investigating to do.

  “Look, the Elf on the Shelf! I found it,” Amber said excitedly.

  THE SETTING COULDN’T be more perfect for a family Christmas. The white-covered landscape and mountain laden with several feet of fluffy snow may have prevented some frolicking outside for the kids, but they’d be out in the snow tomorrow. Or, so Blake predicted. He’d come to rely on the sights—snow or summer—to ease his worries. The interior rounded out a perfect package for his family. He wished they’d had the resort to themselves, but most of the other tourists had booked their time well in advance. He’d heard the lodge was in high demand, and now he believed it.