A Cowboy Christmas

by Janette Kenny

  Ellie had spent the last thirty minutes knocking snow off the boughs her pa had brought in and grousing over the unfairness of him being accused of a crime he hadn’t committed. There had to be a way to help him, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be at this point.

  So she turned her attention to something she loved doing—decking the halls. Or in this case, the parlor.

  She found a box of carpet tacks and a tack hammer in the pantry, dragged a ladder-back chair from the kitchen to the parlor, and set to work hanging swags and festoons of greenery.

  The room was far warmer near the ceiling, and coupled with the exertion, a fine sheen of sweat gathered on her brow and dampened her nape. But she soldiered on and sang carols as she added the ribbons, chenille doves and assorted trims Mrs. Leach had ordered to each spray of evergreen.

  It was beginning to look like Christmas now. The added scent of pine mingled well with the allspice and sticks of cinnamon she’d arranged in clusters.

  Ellie stretched as far as she could to pound the last tack into the spray. Wham, wham, wham.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” Reid asked from the doorway.

  “That should be obvious.”

  She was in no mood to argue with him, not when supper needed her attention. She pushed away from the wall with all the intentions of stepping carefully off the chair. But she’d not quite given herself the right boost to lever her from the odd bent position she’d been in.

  Her upper body leaned toward the wall again. Fast. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t also been in the process of stepping down.

  Ellie teetered for a heartbeat on the chair, unable to grasp the back, which was behind her. In fact there was nothing she could grab onto but air, and her wind-milling arms did her no good at all.

  She tensed, knowing she was going to fall and fall hard.

  A ripe curse split the air followed by the pounding of boots. Strong arms swept around her and crushed her to his chest, but her momentum took them both down just the same.

  His back slammed onto the floor and with a pained grunt, he loosened his hold on her for a scant moment. Though his big body cushioned her fall, she still had that forward momentum pushing her up his frame.

  So she threw her hands out to keep her from ramming her head into the wall. She hissed as the carpet burned her palms right before his hands tightened on her hips and stopped her with a jolt.

  She lay there a moment to catch her breath, dreading to look down into his eyes. But she took the chance anyway, and oh, my, she wished she hadn’t.

  He looked mad enough to spit nails.

  “Thank you,” she said, and made to move off him.

  His hands tightened, keeping her in the undignified sprawl she’d fallen into. Why, she hadn’t realized until now that she was straddling him.

  Her face flamed as her mind raced to recall what rule Mrs. Halsey cited for embarrassing incidents such as this. Nothing came to mind but how good it felt to be this close to him.

  And wasn’t that the point she’d argued with herself earlier? How could she maintain a proper anger for this rogue when his mere touch muddled her mind?

  “Let go of me, please,” she said with a bit more heat than was proper.

  His hold didn’t ease in the least. “Why’d you turn my parlor into a forest?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I was decking the halls to lend a festive touch.”

  “How about undecking some of it?”

  “Absolutely not.” She pushed against the floor but couldn’t budge an inch. “I did this for your fiancée. You do remember her and the wedding that is to take place here in six days?”

  “Vaguely.” He had the audacity to smile at her.

  “Oh! You are wretched. A rogue of the worst sort!”

  He laughed.

  “Stop that,” she said, and when he wouldn’t let her go or shut up, she made to rap him upside the head.

  She realized her mistake the second he captured her hand in midair. Before she could regain her leverage, his mouth was on hers.

  Not a sweet, seductive buss of lips like before.

  No, this was a full, amorous attack on her senses.

  Her head spun. Her heart skipped several beats before it began racing. Her trapped hands had the almost aching need to hold him close.

  Just like the intimacy they’d shared in the pantry, his tongue made a sweeping foray into her mouth, setting off little explosions of need she hadn’t known were possible. She should fight him off. Scream perhaps. Kick and of course stop kissing him and holding on to him as if he was her anchor.

  But heavenly days, she’d never dreamed she’d lose all sense of time and troubles in a kiss. It was simply mind-boggling and confusing, because she shouldn’t feel this way at all.

  As if sensing that she was capitulating, he softened the kiss as well as his hold. That made this joining of lips and tongue and heated breath all the more wonderful.

  For now, he was caressing her, and she was too lost in the sensations to resist. Why, she even heard bells.

  This was meant to be. It couldn’t mean anything else.

  The rough clearing of a throat intruded on the moment, but she resented it when Reid ended the kiss abruptly. It took a moment for her vision to clear and for her senses to realize they were no longer alone.

  A glance to the doorway confirmed the butler stood there, stoic as a statue.

  “A sleigh and a wagon from town have arrived, sir,” Hubert said.

  “Who’d call on you at this hour?” she asked as she got off him the best she could without totally abandoning her dignity.

  And she didn’t dare look at the rogue for fear he’d be grinning.

  “I reckon it’s Cheryl and her guardian.”

  Her jaw dropped, and she did look at him then. “Your fiancée is here already?”

  “It appears so.” He rolled to his feet with fluid grace and extended a hand to help her up, not seeming the least bit alarmed that he’d nearly gotten caught dallying with her.

  How could he be so cavalier?

  Ellie took his hand without comment and gave her skirts a shake to set them right again. But there was no help for her hair. Half the pins were scattered on the carpet, which allowed the heavy mass to slide down her back in a riot of curls.

  She certainly must look like she’d had a tumble with a man. His fiancée would take one look at her and know what a rogue Reid really was.

  But no matter how she felt duty bound to let the woman see Reid’s true worth, she refused to humiliate her. Enlightening her was something she must do in private, for she knew well the pain of a public unveiling of truths.

  There was time for her to take Reid’s intended aside and gently tell her the truth. The choice would be up to the woman whether to go through with the marriage or break the engagement.

  Then Ellie could rest assured she’d done the right thing.

  Leaving him to think what he might, she slipped from the parlor and ran to the kitchen to check her cake. She pulled the pan from the oven and set it on the range.

  Her shoulders slumped. The top was very firm and browned a bit much around the edges, but she hoped it would be passable.

  As for herself, she hastened to her room to repair her appearance. But even after she’d tidied her hair, her lips still tingled from his moving on hers, and the hum of sensual excitement coursed like a raging river.

  Reid stalked to the front window, shoving the pleasure he’d found in Ellie’s arms to the back of his mind. It wasn’t easy. It sure as hell didn’t put him in a good mood.

  Any chance he’d had of having Ellie was over now that his intended had arrived. All she could be for him was a temptation.

  She surely did tempt him to forget he’d agreed to marry Kirby’s daughter, and that he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back on his word. Didn’t matter that Ellie had blotted out the ugly past he’d never be able to escape, if only for a few hours.

  And wasn’t t
hat just the hell of it all? When he was with Ellie, he didn’t think of the young woman who’d caught a stray bullet fired from his gun two years ago, or the blackmail threat hanging over his head ever since that day.

  He’d had his neck saved but lost his freedom in the bargain. Now if he reneged on the deal he’d made with Kirby’s cousin, Burl Erston would make good his threats.

  He watched the righteous son-of-a-bitch climb from the sleigh and give the ranch a long perusal. Not once did he say a word to Cheryl or offer to help her from the sleigh.

  She just sat there, like she was exhausted from the journey from England and waiting for somebody to take pity on her and bring her in out of the cold. What the hell made Kirby think that his cousin could raise his daughter better than he could’ve?

  Erston was busy supervising the removal of luggage from the second wagon. The arrogant sonofabitch was oblivious to Cheryl.

  Reid’s anger shot up another notch. He pushed from the window and stormed to the door, of a mind to tear into Burl Erston.

  But he couldn’t. Not yet.

  Erston wasn’t one to offer idle threats. If Reid didn’t tow the line, he’d marry Kirby’s daughter off to an old lord who’d pay dearly to wed a young woman who’d give him an heir. He’d have Reid’s brothers charged with rustling Crown Seven cattle, even though Dade and Trey were likely just taking what was theirs after they’d been run off their home.

  Reid couldn’t imagine the hell they went through after Kirby died and Erston took over. He couldn’t imagine how betrayed they’d felt when Erston told Dade and Trey that Reid had sold them out.

  Erston had lied to them, just as he’d done to Reid.

  If Reid balked, there’d be no way that he could stop Erston from selling the Crown Seven out from under him. There’d be no way Reid could make amends to Dade and Trey.

  Reid would lose the only home he’d ever known, and welch on a promise he’d made to Kirby long ago.

  Nope, he wouldn’t let Kirby down again, for losing the ranch would rob Cheryl of her birthright. Besides, he owed the Englishman for taking him in when he had nowhere or no one to turn to.

  Kirby gave him a home and a family. Reid would damn sure see that Cheryl got her share, even if marrying him was part of the bargain.

  In time, Ellie Jo Cade would be a fond memory of who he could’ve pursued if he hadn’t screwed up his life before he’d met her.

  He yanked the door open to find a liveryman from Maverick was helping Cheryl maneuver the narrow path in the snow. He saw the rapid staccato of her breath and guessed she was damned near frozen.

  She stood on the porch looking like a lost waif, probably wondering what new hell she’d been dragged to this time.

  “I trust your journey wasn’t too arduous,” Reid said by way of greeting.

  She gave a depreciating laugh and stepped inside the house. “It was taxing, but I endured without complaint.”

  Reid’s fingers curled into fists, remembering well how she’d spent her days working at the Montvale School for Foundlings in England. She never complained that he could see, but then he guessed she’d never known anything different.

  “Reckon you’d like to retire to your room and rest a spell,” he said and closed the door.

  “Yes, I would.”

  There was tension evident in the press of her lips, and worry lines fanned from her eyes. She’d never had trouble meeting his gaze straight-on before. Likely she and Erston had done nothing but argue the entire trip. Yet he couldn’t help but think there was something else troubling his intended.

  Cheryl glanced in the parlor that Ellie had painstakingly decked out but didn’t comment on the effort or the festive effect. “I understand the Pearce farm is nearby.”

  “The sheepherder?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” she said. “He moved to this area nearly three months past.”

  That he did, and gained the animosity of every cattleman in the county by bringing a herd of woolies with him.

  “His spread is four miles northwest of here. You know him?”

  “Mr. Pearce is my dearest friend’s brother,” she said. “I promised I’d visit him as soon as I arrived and deliver a package to him.”

  “Erston can drive you—”

  “No!” There was no hiding the fact she was nervous to the point of shaking. “Please, Reid, he can’t know I’ve asked about Kenton Pearce.”

  “I won’t mention the sheepherder’s name then.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She kept her gaze lowered, no different than she had in the whole year he’d spent in England. He’d never been able to figure if she was just shy, or if that docility had been pounded into her.

  He sure wouldn’t put it past Erston. Kirby had left her with his cousin shortly after her mother died. He claimed he couldn’t think to go on and properly raise a child, especially a little girl.

  So before coming to America, he’d handed her over into the care of Burl Erston and his wife. But Reid doubted it was a loving home.

  One thing was for sure, Cheryl’s life and view on the world would have been a lot different had Kirby brought her to Wyoming where he bought the ranch ten years ago. Maybe he feared it would be a mistake to bring a young woman into a house where he’d taken in three orphan boys. Would they have grown up as siblings, or would Reid have tendered an affection to her in time and ended up marrying her anyway?

  He’d never know. Fact was he felt nothing but empathy for her now, and that was unfair to his bride-to-be.

  She glanced out the door, then turned and finally looked Reid in the eyes. “Would you take me to the Pearce farm?”

  “Reckon we can do it tomorrow.”

  The short ride over would give him time to talk to her in private. He wanted her aware of his plans to buy out Erston. He had to have her cooperation.

  “I fear Mr. Pearce has been on tenterhooks awaiting my arrival,” she said. “Do you think it would be possible to visit him today? Just us.”

  Rousing memories of his earlier ride and scorching kiss with Ellie Jo flashed in his mind’s eye to needle his guilt. Without a doubt, getting away from the house and the object of his desire was damn smart.

  “Don’t see why not,” he said as Hubert joined them. “We’ll plan on leaving as soon as you’re settled in.”

  “Thank you.” She fidgeted a moment, then stepped forward, stood on tiptoe and placed a fleeting kiss on is cheek.

  He caught Hubert’s censoring glance, and wished the brush of her lips on his face stirred something in him besides guilt. “I’ll get the sleigh readied.”

  “May I show you to your room, Miss Morris?” Hubert said.

  “Please,” she said.

  They were just starting up the stairs when the front door swung open and Burl Erston stomped in. “Bloody inhospitable weather. I can’t fathom why Kirby wished to live in this god-awful environs.”

  “It’s cattle country,” Reid said.

  “Yes, yes.” Erston shrugged out of his frock coat and shook the snow from it, sending frozen pellets skittering over the floor Ellie had just swept. “I suppose it was a fitting home for the three street urchins he took under his wing.”

  Reid shrugged off the insult, for it was true. He, Dade and Trey had been boys, living hand-to-mouth by their wits and grit.

  If they hadn’t come upon Kirby when they did in St. Louis and saved his life, he doubted their paths would ever have crossed. He sure as hell wouldn’t have grown to be a man in this fine home.

  He dreaded to think how much different his and his foster brothers’ lives would have been if Kirby Morris hadn’t taken them in and made men out of them.

  And what did he do to repay the man’s largess?

  He got drunk on his ass and accidentally killed a woman instead of winging the old rustler who’d been hell bent on stealing his horse. Kirby had begged a loan from Erston in order to bribe the sheriff and keep Reid from swinging from the gallows.

  Mayb
e it’d been better in the long run if he’d paid for his reckless stupidity then and there.

  “Name your price for your shares,” Reid said, knowing the only way to deal with Erston was to get right to the point.

  “Thinking of buying me out, eh?” Erston laughed, an ugly chuckle that grated on Reid’s nerves.

  “Yep. You don’t like it here, so why hang on to it?”

  Cheryl’s guardian shrugged, a gesture generations of Erstons had no doubt honed to snobbish perfection. “I don’t intend to. But I invested a good deal in you and this ranch at my cousin’s request.”

  Money-grubbing bastard. “Like I said, name your price.”

  Erston’s expression turned cagey. “Where would you come by that much money?”

  “I’m not without resources,” Reid said.

  “Interesting. I hadn’t thought you’d rally in just one year.” Erston stared at him as if waiting for him to explain, but hell would freeze over before Reid divulged how he’d come by a herd of thoroughbreds, or his plans to sell them so he could force Erston off the ranch once and for all.

  “Good luck to you then,” Erston said. “But bear in mind that should your partners fail to claim their shares by the end of Christmas Day, buying me out will cost you substantially more.”

  “A fact I’m aware of.”

  One that worried him endlessly too, for it wasn’t just a matter of them abandoning their share of the ranch. It was the fact that something had happened to one or both of them.

  “Pray tell, who is that delectable creature?” Erston asked.

  Reid followed the direction of the Englishman’s gaze, and his gut clenched. Ellie slipped from the powder room at the end of the hall and hurried into the kitchen, bustle gyrating and energy bouncing in each step. His groin tightened in response.

  “That’s Miss Cade, my housekeeper,” he said.

  “Help, eh?” Erston licked his thin dark lips. “Always a plus to employ women who are easy on the eye.”

  The insinuation was a gut-punch Reid hadn’t expected. Damn strange considering he’d thought the same.

  “Stay away from her.”

  Erston stared at him, one brow lifted in question. “You did say miss. Is she spoken for?”