Forever Christmas

by Cat Cahill

  “Ma’am?” he said, removing his hat. “Might I ask if you need any help?” He was already here, so he might as well offer.

  She turned abruptly, pressing a hand to her heart. “You startled me.” Familiar brown eyes looked back at him. If it was possible for this woman to look even more like an angel, she’d accomplished it. A worn hood covered her hair, but her eyes sparkled and her skin looked softer than the snow beneath Landon’s feet. “It’s you,” she said, her face reddening as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Landon Cooper.” He tried to keep his eyes off the attractive blush that still colored her cheeks, but it was impossible. The color only deepened as he held her gaze, and something about that pleased him.

  “I am Elizabeth Campbell,” she finally said in a slightly strained voice. “And I’m attempting to cut those branches to use as decoration in the hotel.” She held up a small saw. “But I fear I’m useless with this.”

  Landon replaced his hat and held out his hand. She handed him the saw and stepped back. Cutting pine branches in the snow seemed useless and like a good way to freeze to death, but he wasn’t about to let her continue fighting with that saw. He cut a couple of branches effortlessly. “How many of these do you need, Miss Campbell?”

  “Mrs. Campbell,” she corrected him.

  He dropped the saw to his side as a strange sense of disappointment washed through him. “Are you married?” He wondered what sort of husband she had if she was required to work as a waitress. Not a very good one, clearly.

  “I’m widowed.” She looked past him to the tree, and he had the feeling she wished not to discuss the topic.

  He nodded and turned back to the tree, a slight smile lifting the corners of his lips. He immediately forced it away. He might be well on his way to becoming an outlaw, but he didn’t need to leave all manner of decency behind. Taking delight in a man’s death was not only wrong, but shameful.

  But it wasn’t that, exactly, that had made him smile. He didn’t know what it was. Thinking any further down that road would be a mistake. It was better that he let it be.

  “How many of these do you need, Mrs. Campbell?” he asked again.

  “Oh, I don’t know. The hotel is awfully large. Fifty, maybe? A hundred seems too many.”

  “Fifty?” he repeated. “You’ll scalp the trees bare. I’ll cut you twenty.”

  “That won’t be enough,” she said, shifting the two he’d already cut in her arms. “I need some for all the doorways, the front desk, the fireplaces—”

  “Twenty,” he said. “For now.”

  Her face screwed up into a frown. An angry angel. He wanted to laugh, but pressed his lips together to keep from doing so and began sawing the next branch.

  “Fine,” she said from behind him. “I’ll take twenty, but only if you agree to carry these inside for me.”

  “All right,” he said before he realized what terms he’d accepted. Somehow, she’d gotten him to not only cut these ridiculous branches for her, but to also carry them inside like a pack mule. “If you find you need more, I’ll cut them for you tomorrow,” he then found himself saying.

  She stood by quietly—for a change—as he cut the remaining boughs. Then he gathered them from her and they made their way back into the hotel.

  “Thank you,” she said as he placed the pile in front of one of the fireplaces.

  “They’ll need to dry before you can hang them.” Landon shrugged off his coat and gloves. “Lest you want melting snow dripping on your guests.”

  Mrs. Campbell glanced at the branches. “I don’t suppose I could request your help in one more thing?”

  Landon sighed inwardly. “What would that be?”

  She turned those big brown eyes on him and spoke in that musical voice. “I’d like to hang some of these over the dining-room doors. Would you be so kind to do that for me tomorrow, once they’re dry?”

  “Of course,” he said immediately before he realized what he was committing himself to. “If I’m here. I may be leaving first thing in the morning.” It was what he should do. He needed to get to Cañon City, and spending more time with this snow angel was not part of his plan. Even if he had already promised to cut more for her tomorrow.

  “Oh, I see.” Her voice dropped, and the disappointment was evident. “I’ll ask one of the handymen. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother,” he said gruffly. “If I’m here.”

  He needed to get out of there. Now. Before he agreed to hang the moon for her. He tugged on his hat, letting that serve as a goodbye, and turned abruptly to walk toward the lunch counter. It might be too early to eat the noon meal, but it was best to get it out of the way while Mrs. Campbell wasn’t working.

  There was nothing about him that deserved her attention. And it was best he stopped it now, before it grew to anything more.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, Elizabeth was up hours before the sun. She smiled as she washed her face and dressed, and then fairly skipped to the door. Her roommate, Sarah, who was the head waitress, was still fast asleep. But Elizabeth had work to do, and she couldn’t stay in bed a moment longer.

  Ideas for how to use the pine boughs and the ribbon Penny and Dora had purchased from the general store and mercantile had danced through her dreams all night. Some were ridiculous, as dreams often were, but some might prove to be useful. Mostly, she just couldn’t wait to begin transforming the hotel into a place filled with holiday cheer. It would be the perfect setting for two Christmas day weddings.

  Elizabeth flew down the stairs. The hotel was silent this early in the morning. The desk clerk, a Mr. Gilbert who Elizabeth had learned was Dora’s intended, nodded at her as she passed. It seemed utterly unfair that he was allowed to keep his position here while Dora had to relinquish her role as a Gilbert Girl, but Elizabeth supposed this was an extraordinary case given that Mr. Gilbert’s family owned the hotel. Dora had told her the entire story over supper in the kitchen last night. It sounded like something straight out of a dime novel, with a secret identity, a mystery, a thief, and a grave moment of peril, all winding up in Mr. Gilbert declaring his love for Dora as they saved the hotel. The whole thing was incredibly romantic, as Penny put it, and it made Elizabeth all the more eager to help make her new friends’ weddings as perfect as possible.

  The pine boughs rested where Mr. Cooper had left them yesterday in front of the fireplace near the dining-room doors. The lengths of red velvet ribbon the other girls had purchased lay nearby. She’d start with the mantels. In one of her dreams, she’d imagined the fireplaces blazing with flames as pine boughs, ribbon, and a candelabra festooned the mantels and stockings hung from each side. The stockings might be a bit much. This was a hotel, after all, and not a home with children. Perhaps the general store had something else festive she could add. For now, she’d just hang the branches and ribbon, and later she’d ask Mrs. Ruby if there were any spare candelabra.

  Elizabeth had just put the finishing touches on the ribbon when she looked up and realized the breakfast service was well underway. Guests gathered throughout the lobby, and she noted with pride that some were admiring her work on the other fireplace. She’d always wanted a fireplace mantel to make festive. All they’d had at the camp in California was a persnickety woodstove, and that was no good for decorating. Not that Colin would have taken notice. She had to admit it felt nice to see people enjoying her efforts.

  She stepped back to ensure the second mantel looked the way she wanted, and it was then she spotted Mr. Cooper making his way across the lobby toward the lunch counter. So he hadn’t left after all, at least not yet.

  Her heart beat harder as she approached him. “Mr. Cooper, you’re just who I was hoping to see.”

  His face went ruddy beneath the dark stubble that dotted his cheeks and chin. “I don’t have time to chop down any trees today, Mrs. Campbell,” he said warily.

  Elizabeth laughed.
“No, I only wish to engage your efforts in hanging the pine boughs over the dining-room doors. After the breakfast service is completed, of course. Would you help me? Unless you need to be on your way, that is.”

  “I . . .” His eyes drifted to the hotel doors before landing back on her. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I suppose I could.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Elizabeth gripped his hand, imagining how lovely the lobby would look once the doors were decorated. “I so appreciate your help. It will look marvelous when we’re finished!”

  He glanced down at her hands wrapped around his, and Elizabeth’s face warmed. What had she done? Her enthusiasm had gotten the better of her good sense. She yanked her hands away and clasped them in front of her. “Thank you,” she said again, more demurely this time. “I’ll be here when you’ve finished your breakfast.”

  He nodded quickly and disappeared into the lunch counter room faster than a jackrabbit running from a hunter. Elizabeth stood, fixed to the floor. What had gotten into her? First, instead of telling him she was not allowed to be alone with him when he’d offered to cut those branches yesterday, she’d let him help her. And now she was grabbing him by the hand as if they’d been acquainted for years and years. He must think her quite ill-bred, if not downright devoid of any sense of morality.

  She resolved to think before she acted or spoke from here on out. Her reputation and her position here depended upon it. She needed this work to afford train fare if Monroe never came. And if he did—and he decided she must leave—she’d at least have something to live on once she returned to Denver. It would do her no good at all to be acting so familiar with a man like Mr. Cooper.

  When Mr. Cooper emerged from the lunch counter, Elizabeth had already eaten her own quick breakfast from the kitchen, decided which boughs needed to go over the dining-room doors, and had asked one of the bellboys to fetch a ladder, some nails, and a hammer.

  Thankfully, Mr. Cooper said nothing about her familiarity earlier. In fact, he said nothing at all. Instead he set up the ladder as soon as Mrs. Ruby shut the dining-room doors, climbed up, and held out a hand.

  Elizabeth stared at his hand. What did he want? Did he expect her to take it? She should’ve known better. Men who worked on ranches and drove cattle were all alike. And she hadn’t helped at all with the way she’d acted earlier. If he thought she—

  “A nail and hammer, if you don’t mind,” he said, flexing his hand impatiently. “And one of the branches.”

  “Oh!” Elizabeth turned away from him as fast as she could. She took an extra moment gathering up the items he needed, just long enough for her face to cool before turning back to him.

  “Do you want these all the way across the doors?” He eyed the wide space over the doorframe.

  “No. Perhaps just a couple in the middle. Since I have so few . . .” She hadn’t meant it as a complaint, but he looked down and caught her eye.

  “I said I’d cut you more today. I don’t break my promises.”

  She couldn’t look away from those eyes. He held her gaze, and she was caught, imprisoned in the intense blue that wouldn’t let her go. “All right,” she said because she couldn’t think of what else to say.

  He finally turned his attention back to the pine boughs, and Elizabeth caught hold of the doorframe as she fought to breathe again.

  She was silent while he worked for a few minutes, until curiosity got the best of her. “I thought you said you might be leaving this morning?”

  “I decided not to.” He hammered a nail through the branch and into the wall, then looked to her for approval.

  Elizabeth nodded, and he moved on to the next branch. The silence between them was bigger than this entire hotel. “Are you going to work for another ranch?” she finally asked.

  The hammer slipped and Elizabeth winced as he caught his thumb. He mumbled something—likely something she was glad she didn’t hear—and glared at his thumb.

  “Are you all right?” she said after a moment.

  “Yes. And no, I’m not working for another ranch. Not until spring.” He spoke to the wall and not to her.

  “Oh.” Elizabeth ran her hands over her arms. Despite the fire nearby, she’d become chilled. She didn’t dare ask him what work it was that awaited him in Cañon City, considering he didn’t seem to want to discuss it. But she felt as if she needed to give him hope. After all, it might become something he liked, even if he didn’t feel so optimistic about it right now. “I never expected to become a waitress. But I am now, and I’m learning to enjoy it.”

  Landon said nothing for a moment. He adjusted the pine bough he’d just hung, and then climbed down the ladder. “What do you think?” He gestured at his work.

  Elizabeth lifted her eyes to take in his efforts. “I love it. Thank you. I’d like to add some bows, but I don’t have those ready yet.”

  His jaw worked, and she feared she’d asked too much. “All right,” he finally said.

  “I can make them now,” Elizabeth said, gathering up the velvet ribbon. “It won’t take but a moment.”

  Landon sat in a nearby chair, and Elizabeth took that as his assent to wait while she fashioned the ribbon into bows. They were quiet as she worked. Then, out of nowhere, Landon spoke.

  “This work I’m taking on is not something I’ll ever learn to enjoy.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him. “How do you know? Have you done it before?”

  “No,” he said, a little forcefully as he sat up straighter. “And I’ll be thankful to never do it again after this winter.”

  She blinked at him, trying to discern what sort of work he found so distasteful. It must be indoors. Colin despised indoor work after so many years on the ranch. Even mining felt too confining to him, and he’d grown sour and disagreeable the longer they’d stayed in California. “I know how much cowboys dislike working inside,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “How would you know such a thing?”

  “My husband. He worked on a ranch for several years.” Elizabeth looked back at her ribbon. She disliked speaking of Colin. Although they’d had some pleasant moments together, most of her marriage had been a mixture of loneliness and fear. “You cowboys are all alike.”

  Mr. Cooper laughed, but it was short and lacked the mirth a laugh should have. “You—”

  “This looks perfect!” Penny appeared between them, her hands clasped together in joy. “Elizabeth, you’re a natural at decorating! You should have told me you were planning to start so early. Dora and I could have helped you. We might have even gotten some of the other girls to join in.”

  “I’m sorry, I got carried away. Do you really like it?” A warmth flooded Elizabeth’s heart as Penny nodded.

  “You know, you must hang mistletoe from the doorways. Can you imagine? Perhaps I should move our weddings inside. Then we could share a kiss under one of these doorways.” Penny’s face was alight as she gestured at the pine boughs over the dining-room doors.

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Elizabeth said. “I’m fashioning bows right now. Mr. Cooper is going to hang them for me.”

  “Isn’t that kind of him?” Penny turned an eagle-eyed gaze onto Mr. Cooper, who stood and nodded to Penny. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She glanced at Elizabeth, her eyes widening just slightly.

  Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Penny reminded her of a girl she’d known in Denver, before her father had passed on—always the first to know the latest gossip and forever trying to match her friends to the eligible men in town.

  She introduced Penny to Mr. Cooper, who offered a barely polite hello to Elizabeth’s new friend. Elizabeth suspected his reaction had more to do with the obvious grin Penny flitted between Elizabeth and him than it did with his usual brooding manner.

  “I must go . . . tend to the plants,” Penny said. She gripped Elizabeth’s hand and let go. “I’ll find you later this morning.”

  Elizabeth watched her leave with a smile.
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br />   Mr. Cooper remained his silent, frowning self, but he shifted from foot to foot as if he wasn’t certain what to do with himself. Elizabeth said nothing, but bit her lip to keep from grinning at his obvious discomfort. Instead, she fumbled with the bows and wished her heart would slow down. When she glanced up, Mr. Cooper was watching her with that intense gaze. She handed him the bows, and he turned to climb the ladder with them.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. Those eyes were trouble. He was trouble. But as much as she recognized that and knew she should stop him right now and find some other serviceable man to hang the bows, she didn’t.

  Instead, she prayed her brother would return soon, before she could get herself into another situation she’d wish she hadn’t.

  Chapter Eight

  Landon dropped another armload of pine branches in front of the stone fireplace. That should do it. He’d cut an ungodly number of boughs, so many he didn’t care to count. It had taken most of the afternoon, as he’d gone from tree to tree in order to make it less obvious that he’d taken so many. His arms ached, and his face was nearly frozen, but the look he knew he’d see on Mrs. Campbell’s face kept him cutting and cutting.

  It was a foolish thought, and he was well aware of it, and yet he hadn’t bothered to stop thinking it.

  She was most likely working right now, which left him with time. Time in which he should be resolving to leave for Cañon City. He’d already stayed longer than he’d intended.

  Landon carried the saw down the hallway that passed the kitchen and led toward several other rooms whose purposes remained a mystery to him. At the end of the hall, a door led outside to a garden area that was empty and covered in snow this time of year. Landon crossed it and made his way to a shed that sat behind the hotel kitchen, which was where one of the bellboys had informed him the saw belonged.