by Cat Cahill
What he wouldn’t give to feel that way again. To have his own home lit up with joy and love, and yes, even a bunch of silly pine boughs that really belonged outside.
And maybe it could happen. One day. But first, he had to get to Cañon City. He rubbed his face, trying to iron out his thoughts. It was clear that if he chose not to take this step, he’d never have enough to start up his own ranch. And he didn’t know if he could go on, year in and year out, working for other people and knowing his own dreams were so far out of reach.
It was one winter. That was all. One winter of rustling enough cattle to sell to men greedy enough not to ask any questions. If only he could set aside the rock that seemed to form in his stomach every time he thought of it. It was easy money. Redmond and the others were counting on him . . . but they didn’t need him to proceed. In fact, they’d each make more without him, even if it meant they’d have to work a little harder.
They wouldn’t go out until January. He still had some time, but he’d need to let them know. If he didn’t show his face in Cañon City in two days, Redmond would assume he was out. He needed to buy more time.
He’d wire Redmond. That was the perfect solution.
Mind made up, Landon peered into the room that housed the lunch counter. He couldn’t take another night of salt pork, but he also couldn’t face Elizabeth. She’d returned his coat through the desk clerk that morning. He wanted to thank her, but he didn’t dare.
There she was, laughing as she spoke with one of her customers. Landon’s hand curled around the doorframe. He wanted to be the one in that seat, making her laugh.
But he couldn’t. Not with what he had planned. If he let this take its natural course, he’d find himself leaving her behind very soon. Or he wouldn’t go at all. He wasn’t sure which one was worse. If only he had that land now. If he had a house, and a way to provide for someone like Elizabeth.
But he didn’t, and she deserved better than a man like him. One whose only serious relationship had ended in a woman spurning him and reminding him exactly who he was. One who planned to spend the rest of the winter stealing from the very people who’d given him work over the years.
It was best he left her alone. She was likely still mad at him anyway, after the way he’d spoken to her in the shed.
He turned and went upstairs to a dinner of salt pork. After that, he’d walk down to the depot to send a telegram to Redmond. And in a day or two, he’d leave.
Alone.
Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth held the tiny china dog in her hands. Her mother had collected little keepsakes like this. For the first time, she wondered what had happened to them. She hadn’t thought of them in years. She wanted so badly to buy it, but she only had a small amount of money. And even that wasn’t really hers. Mrs. McFarland had caught her this morning and given her a few dollars. “An advance on your wages. For trinkets you might wish to buy for Christmas gifts.” She’d smiled at Elizabeth in a motherly fashion, and Elizabeth could have cried right then and there.
Instead, she’d come to the general store and mercantile across the railroad tracks. It was the only shop in Crest Stone, which one couldn’t really call a town. At least not yet, but if Penny and Dora were correct, it would be a town by this time next year. And that was why her brother was coming back, she’d learned. To help build the town. He hadn’t arrived yet, and Penny was getting antsy. Christmas—and her wedding—was in less than five days, and if Monroe’s wife, Emma Hartley, wasn’t there to celebrate it, Penny wasn’t sure what she would do.
Elizabeth sighed and placed the little dog back on the shelf, thinking about how much she had missed.
“He’s adorable, don’t you think?” a woman said from behind her.
“My mother collected these,” Elizabeth said. She turned to find the proprietress of the store standing behind her, radiant blonde hair pulled up into a neat chignon and a warm smile on her face.
“She had good taste, then,” the woman said. “I’m Caroline Drexel. You must be a new employee of the hotel.”
“Elizabeth Campbell. And you’re right, except I’m not fully employed yet, Mrs. Drexel.”
“Please call me Caroline. I used to be a Gilbert Girl. Until I met my husband, that is.” As the woman spoke, Elizabeth remembered Penny and Dora mentioning her as a friend, the one who had married her husband while he was jailed.
“I hope to be,” Elizabeth said, unable to keep the enthusiasm from her voice. “If I pass Mrs. Ruby’s muster.”
Caroline smiled again. “She’s tough, but very fair. And quite kind, once you get to know her.”
“Ah.” Elizabeth wasn’t certain what else to say. To be honest, Mrs. Ruby intimidated her. “I’m searching for Christmas gifts. For my new friends. And my brother.”
“I know most everyone at the hotel. You must tell me who you’re looking for, and I’ll help you.”
Elizabeth rattled off the names of the girls who had been especially friendly toward her. Caroline led her around the store, pointing out various items until Elizabeth had her hands full.
“And now for your brother. Does he work at the hotel?”
“No. He did, but . . . not now.” Elizabeth fumbled her words.
“Does he live on a ranch nearby?” Caroline asked.
“No . . .” Elizabeth chewed on her lip. She hadn’t told Penny or Dora who her brother was. Adelaide knew, but she was the only one. Maybe being at the hotel made it feel too close, like the disappointment she feared from him would somehow filter through to them. But Caroline was here, at the general store, and not at the hotel. And it would be nice to tell someone. “He built the hotel.”
If Caroline was surprised, she was too polite to show it. “Mr. Hartley is your brother?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Then you must choose something extra special.”
The door to the store opened, and wind blew in, whipping Elizabeth’s skirts around her legs.
“Pardon me. I’ll attend to this customer and return as soon as I can.” Caroline bustled away.
Elizabeth smoothed down her skirt with one hand while clutching her gifts with the other—until a man’s voice made her stop still.
“I’m looking for more of those little gold baubles. For the hotel.”
Had he seen her? She was half-hidden behind some shelving. She peered out—and he immediately spotted her. A moment passed, and finally he nodded at her.
Elizabeth gave him a quick smile. She wasn’t sure how to act. She was happy to see him, although she knew she shouldn’t be. She busied herself with placing her purchases on the counter. Which turned out to be the wrong decision.
“Mrs. Campbell.” He was beside her. Her formal name felt awkward to hear in his voice now. The wild part of her wished he’d call her Elizabeth again.
“Mr. Cooper.” She didn’t dare look up at him. If she did, she feared she wouldn’t be able to look away. And she certainly didn’t dare call him Landon, not when he’d reverted to addressing her as Mrs. Campbell. And especially not when she needed desperately to keep distance between them.
But he said nothing else, and she felt compelled to end the silence. “You haven’t left yet.”
“I haven’t.”
She moved a few items across the counter.
“Are you still angry with me?” he asked.
Elizabeth swallowed. Was that what he thought? “I should be, with the way you disappeared.” She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. “But no, I’m not angry.”
He said nothing, but his eyes remained on her.
Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. “Won’t your new job miss you?”
“I’ve sent a telegram.”
She wanted so badly to ask him why he remained here in Crest Stone, but wasn’t certain which answer she wanted to hear. “I’m purchasing Christmas gifts,” she said for lack of any other thing to say.
He was silent. Eli
zabeth wished he would say something. Anything. If he didn’t, she’d be forced to look up at him to discern his reaction. She rearranged her items on the polished wooden counter to busy her hands.
“We have a few more, but this is all.” Caroline bustled out from the door that must have led to a room they used for storage. She set five gold Christmas ornaments on the counter in front of Landon. “Did you wish to purchase all of them?”
Elizabeth stared at the ornaments. “Why are you buying those?” He was the last person she’d suspect of being awash in the spirit of Christmas.
He cleared his throat and her eyes drifted up to him of their own accord.
“I presumed you needed a few more to place on a tree.” He looked everywhere but at her.
Elizabeth placed a hand against her heart, which felt ready to burst from her body. He was purchasing them for her. For a tree she hadn’t yet asked if anyone at the hotel might cut for her. “I don’t know what to say. You don’t have to buy them.”
“I want to,” he said, a bit gruffly.
His irritation brought a smile to her face. And then she knew. He might have the manner and the rough exterior of a cowboy, but inside, he was as soft as the snow that lay on the ground. “Then by all means, I wouldn’t presume to stop you.”
He looked down then, rubbing a hand through his hair. “In that case, I’ll take them all,” he said to Caroline.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “They’ll look lovely on the tree.”
Landon drummed his fingers on the counter, not looking at her.
“You don’t accept gratitude easily, do you?” Elizabeth said.
“I haven’t had much opportunity,” he replied, finally meeting her eyes again. He held her there for a few seconds before looking down to remove money from his pocket.
Caroline wrapped the ornaments and placed each one in a box before taking Landon’s money and wishing him a good day.
“I’ll carry these back,” he said before replacing his hat and nodding at each of them. And then he was gone.
Elizabeth was left with the strangest tangle of feelings. “I cannot believe he did that.”
“That man is in love with you,” Caroline said as she began wrapping Elizabeth’s purchases.
Elizabeth’s hand dropped to her stomach. Love. She thought she might be sick. Caroline barely knew either of them. Surely she was reading Landon wrong.
“He’s the most uncouth, sullen man I’ve ever met,” she finally said. “He comes all the way over here to buy those ornaments, and yet he lacks the most basic sort of manners at times.” And he’s a cowboy, she wanted to add, but she knew that would only make sense to herself.
A smile twitched Caroline’s lips as she tied a string around the small bottle of perfume Elizabeth had chosen for Penny. “Men are strange creatures.” She reached for another sheet of brown paper and looked up at Elizabeth. “Just be careful if you choose to allow him to continue in this manner. Both your brother and my friend Emma paid for their relationship with their jobs. As did I and my husband. Mr. McFarland might be soft when it comes to love, but even he must follow the rules of the Gilbert Company. And the company doesn’t stand for any sort of scandal.”
Elizabeth dug her fingers into her coat. Scandal was the last thing she wanted. She’d had enough of the ups and downs of love to last her the rest of her life. All she craved now was stability. Dull, sensible stability.
“He isn’t courting me,” she said.
“That’s what you might think,” Caroline replied, handing her the box in which she’d placed Elizabeth’s gifts. “Now, did you find anything for your brother?”
Elizabeth shook her head and allowed Caroline to show her multiple items. But her mind couldn’t stay put on her brother and a gift for him, not when it kept wandering back to Landon. He was a conundrum, that was the only thing about which she was certain. Handsome, yet rough around the edges. Kind, yet gruff. Thoughtful, yet lacking in manners. He was night and day from Colin. Even the way in which he angered was different.
It was enough to make her think that maybe not all cowboys were the same.
Chapter Twelve
The telegram was short and to the point.
Be here by Christmas Eve. R.
Landon had folded it up and placed it in his pocket. It would do him good to remember what awaited him in Cañon City. He stood to make a considerable amount of money, and that’s what he needed to keep in mind. Money that would set him up for a future in which he was his own boss. In which he had his own spread. And in which he could live comfortably for the rest of his life.
Alone.
He tapped his fingers on the lunch counter. Not necessarily alone. Once he had his affairs in order, he’d be in a position to take a wife and start a family. Of course, in every vision he’d had of that future lately, the wife always looked the same—hair the color of the great sand dunes that rose on the other side of these mountains, eyes nearly as dark as night, and a face with the perpetual glow that befitted an angel.
No woman wants to marry an outlaw.
Landon ground his teeth together. He wouldn’t be an outlaw forever. Only briefly. It was a means to an end, and that was all. She wouldn’t even need to know about it. Not if he was careful.
He was getting ahead of himself. Elizabeth had barely spoken to him save for those few minutes in the general store yesterday. He wondered if she had avoided him as much as he’d avoided her. But for all of that effort, it was as if they hadn’t spent a moment apart when he saw her yesterday.
Now he found himself at the lunch counter, knowing full well she might be here.
He glanced down the length of the counter, looking past two of the other waitresses who often worked there. Just as he was about to give up hope, Elizabeth rushed in, tying her apron the same way she had the first time he’d met her.
Sense smacked him upside the head. What was he doing here? He should go. Nothing good could come of this. And yet he remained fixed in his seat, wondering when she might see him.
She finally glanced up, her eyes immediately landing on him. In less than a couple of seconds, she was in front of him, smiling as always. No one but an angel could possibly smile this much. It wasn’t natural.
“Good afternoon, Landon,” she said.
If he thought her voice was musical before, hearing her say his Christian name was like the heavens had opened up to a chorus of angels just like Elizabeth. He should reply, say “Good afternoon” or something similar to her, but he was struck dumb.
“The chef has chicken soup today. Could I get you a bowl?” she asked.
He nodded, not trusting his voice to actually speak. She left to put in his order, and he relaxed a little. Until she returned, that is, with a bowl in one hand and a plate in the other. She set both dishes in front of him.
“I brought you a slice of spice cake too. I hope you like it.”
“Thank you,” he finally choked out, and then immediately brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth so he wouldn’t be required to say anything else.
Her smile widened, as if his thanks was everything she needed. The soup scorched his tongue, but he swallowed it anyway and pressed his napkin to his mouth.
“I’m sorry. It’s from right off the stove. Here, let me get you some water.” Elizabeth poured him a glass that he downed in one quick swallow. She immediately poured him another. “When it cools, you’ll have to tell me how you like it. We’re considering asking the chef to make it for the Christmas wedding luncheon.”
Landon nodded. “Yes,” was all he said.
“Good.” Elizabeth set her water pitcher down and reached for a towel to wipe off the counter. “The chef balked at how many pies Penny wished to have. I volunteered to bake them myself, as did Mrs. McFarland, and that seemed to appease him some.”
Landon stared at her as she cleaned off the counter. She certainly wasn’t being paid to cook or bake, and yet here she was, willing to spend her free time baking for another
girl’s wedding. “Do you . . . do you bake much?” He winced inwardly at the awkwardness of his question. Conversation had never come naturally to him, particularly when he hoped to give his best impression.
His best impression. He didn’t dare think any further on that.
“I used to,” she said wistfully. “Sometimes for the few other women in camp when they were recovering from childbirth. But mostly for myself.”
Landon stirred his spoon around in his soup. What sort of man wouldn’t appreciate a pie or some fresh bread? He watched Elizabeth from the corner of his eye. This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned something strange about her deceased husband. He felt there was more to the story, but couldn’t figure out the right way to ask.
Elizabeth finished her cleaning and slid the towel through a drawer handle behind the counter. “I wish to thank you again for purchasing those ornaments. That was very thoughtful.”
He nodded as he lifted his eyes to her. She stood there, looking impossibly demure and perfect in that waitress’s uniform, with a smile that was only for him. It made him want to beg that shopkeeper woman for more Christmas baubles just so he could have her look at him that way again and again. “You’re welcome.” The words stumbled from his mouth, but they made her smile even broader.
“I’ll take that bowl for you.” She slid a hand around the edge of his empty soup bowl. “What do you think? Is it worthy of a wedding lunch on Christmas Day?”
Landon nodded again, and that seemed to make her happy.
“Oh, good. I’ll be sure to tell Penny and Dora what you thought.” She turned and made her way toward a small tub of dirty dishes that sat on the floor at the other end of the counter. She paused for a moment to talk to another customer, and her face crinkled into a laugh.
