Jane Goodger

by A Christmas Waltz

  “Maggie, make him listen. I hate it here. I hate everything about it.” She’d thought Maggie would continue to embrace her, but the older women grasped her shoulders and gave her a hard shake.

  “Enough,” she said harshly. “You’ve made your bed and now you must lie in it. You cannot blame anyone but yourself for your foolish decision to follow Carson here without word from him. You knew your brother was against this, but you carried on and on as if you’d die if you couldn’t be with Carson. And your brother gave in, against his better judgment, because he believed Carson had made good on his proposal. Following Carson here without his sending for you was completely foolhardy.” Maggie took a calming breath and gentled her tone. “I know what it’s like to desperately love a man who leaves you. Of all people, I do understand. But now you must understand the repercussions of your decisions.”

  Amelia stared at Maggie, her blue eyes looking huge in her tear-ravaged face. “You’re right,” she said, closing her eyes. “Oh, why did I do it? Why? It was as if an insanity came over me. I missed him so. I loved him and when he didn’t write to send for me, I went a bit mad I think. And now I’m here and I just want to go home.” She swallowed. “But I can’t, can I?”

  Maggie shook her head. “Not without terrible consequences.” She sighed. “Boone is handsome. And a doctor is a perfectly respectable profession. Do you care for him at all?”

  “I hadn’t really given it much thought. I suppose I enjoy his company,” she said hesitantly. She couldn’t admit to Maggie her rather strong physical attraction to him, that kiss that melted her bones. But she’d never thought beyond that kiss, never thought that Boone might be harboring stronger feelings for her. She certainly didn’t have any. He was Carson’s brother and she’d had fun teasing him, but that was the extent of their relationship. Now she was supposed to marry him? It was all rather horrifying.

  Edward followed Dr. Kitteridge down a nondescript passageway ending in a courtyard that was about as surprising as the doctor’s proposal had been. Here was a shaded rectangle of color, with a bubbling fountain of crystal water. It was a small bit of paradise in an otherwise gloomy landscape. He didn’t know what to make of the man or the proposal, but he’d seen small indications that Boone’s interest in Amelia went beyond his sister’s claim of altruism.

  “Much cooler here,” Edward said, pulling at his collar. By God, he’d thought Newport hot, but this was unbearable. Dr. Kitteridge gave him a bemused look.

  “Your sister complains about the heat, too,” he said. He looked toward distant mountains shimmering weakly in the heat of the midday sun, his expression thoughtful.

  “Do you love her?”

  The doctor continued staring at the mountains. “Seems I’m going in that direction,” he said with great reluctance.

  “I see.”

  “I think she could make me happy. The thing is, I don’t know if I could make her happy. I’m pretty much the opposite side of a coin compared to Carson, and she loves him fiercely. Maybe she would be better off going back home.”

  Edward cleared his throat. “I wonder if you could answer some questions, Dr. Kitteridge.”

  “You can call me Boone. Everyone does.”

  This Kitteridge brother had a slow, almost melodic way of speaking, as if every word were carefully chosen. He truly did seem the polar opposite of his brother. “Yes. Boone. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  Edward raised his eyebrows. He’d thought the other man a bit younger. “I thought you were Carson’s older brother.”

  “I am. By four years.”

  Edward tried to hide his surprise. He never would have thought Carson only twenty-four years old. He looked a decade older than that. “And you are a doctor.”

  “I received my medical degree from Tulane University in Louisiana three years back. I inherited this store and have my offices in back.”

  Edward smiled. “So your father was a merchant, then,” he said, using a lofty word for the rather small establishment.

  “My father was the town drunk,” Boone said without inflection. “The man who owned this store raised me from the time I was ten years old.” Boone finally turned toward Edward, his dark gray eyes like flint. “What exactly are you trying to determine, sir?”

  “Whether you would be suitable for Amelia. She is the sister and granddaughter of an earl, and has been raised as a lady. I’ve already made one terrible mistake, and I don’t want to make another.”

  Boone let out a humorless chuckle. “Amelia doesn’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t that decide the matter for you?”

  “Letting my sister decide what is right for her has thus far been disastrous. I have failed in my duty to her and have been far too lenient, but Amelia has always touched a soft spot in my heart. I don’t think I should make the same mistake again.” Edward looked at the man, wishing he could see inside to his soul. He loved his sister and wanted her to be happy. But he truly couldn’t see her happy in this place or with this man, if he were to be honest. Boone was entirely too serious for his little sister, and he feared she’d wilt living with such a dour man in a place like Small Fork. “Would you consider moving your practice?”

  For a moment, Edward thought he detected some strong emotion in the other man’s eyes, but it was quickly masked before he could be certain. “I’ve never considered such a thing,” he said carefully.

  “Yes, but would you? Frankly, sir, from what I’ve seen of this town, it does not seem to be a very welcoming place. It’s not at all what Amelia is used to, not what she expected, to be sure.”

  Boone felt a sudden surge of unexpected joy. To leave Small Fork, to start new—it was something he’d thought about deep in the night when he awoke, sweating hard, his throat still hurting from his screams. But the plain fact was he could not leave Julia alone, unprotected, at the mercy of this mean place. He had no doubt, none at all, that once word reached her husband that Boone was gone, Sam Benson would return and finish what he’d started. And Julia wasn’t well, her wounds still needed tending, and who would do that if he were gone?

  “I don’t see the need to leave, sir.”

  Edward gave him a sharp look. “Even if it meant my sister’s happiness? I could use a young physician in Hollings. The one we have now is quite old and ready to retire. You’d be kept busy with your practice and Amelia would be close to her family and all that she loves.”

  Boone swallowed down the hope forming in his throat. England seemed about as far away from Small Fork as a man could get, but he couldn’t leave. Not now. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “I’d like to ask you a question, if I might.”

  Edward nodded his consent.

  “Would Amelia’s life really be that terrible if she returned home alone?”

  Edward looked grim. “I’m afraid it would. Though things are changing, women of our class have very few options if they do not marry. My sister has a joy about her. Usually,” he added, for Amelia had seemed less than joyous this day. “I would hate to see her alone, a spinster without a home of her own. She loves children, and I know she’s always dreamed of a family. She’s been alone much of her life, you see. Our parents died when she was quite young, and she lost a sister she adored, as well. I would like to see her well married and happy.”

  “I don’t want you to force her into anything,” Boone said. He’d never thought to marry, to have children of his own. An unnamed dread nagged at him, made it impossible for him even to picture such a thing as children running about his feet, a wife in his bed. God, he wished he hadn’t said anything about marriage. What a stupid fool he was to think for even a moment that he could have a normal life. “Let’s just forget I said anything. Amelia can do better than either me or Carson. She’ll just end up hating me for forcing this on her.”

  Edward looked at the man and felt a strong empathy. He knew what it was like to love a woman desperately and believe that woman did not love you
. Unrequited love was hardly romantic; it was the purest torture. “To be honest, I don’t believe my sister is capable of such a dark emotion as hate.”

  “I hate him,” Amelia said fiercely.

  “That’s a sin, dear,” Maggie said dryly.

  Amelia gave her a dark look. “I feel as if I was one step away from putting my foot on a ship to go home and he’s thrown up a hundred-foot barricade. I just know Edward’s talking to him right now and arranging our wedding day and honeymoon. Perhaps they’re agreeing upon how many children we shall have.”

  “Would that be so terrible?”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Yes, dear, I know. What if you did? With Boone?”

  Amelia gave her a frustrated look. “But I don’t want to marry Boone. I don’t love him and he doesn’t love me.”

  Maggie waved a hand at her as if that didn’t matter in the least.

  “I want what you and Edward have,” Amelia said, hoping to appeal to Maggie’s sentimental side.

  “No,” Maggie said. “You want what you thought you had with Carson, which was a fantasy.”

  Amelia scowled, mostly because she knew Maggie was right. “I don’t love him.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that,” Maggie said, implying that she was protesting too much. “But I do not believe the nonfeeling is mutual. I suspect that Boone may indeed love you.”

  For some reason, Maggie’s words made Amelia’s heart beat a bit faster. But what rubbish. Boone had kissed a pretty girl at sunset because…because…“Why would you say such a thing?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Just intuition. The way he gave you that handkerchief, the way he took a step toward you when you started to cry, as if he wanted to be the one to comfort you. The way he shot daggers at Carson when he refused to marry you. Honestly, Amelia, if he’s not in love with you, he’s halfway there.”

  “Hmph.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Maggie said, smiling in victory. “And if that is the case, think how crushed he must have been when you told him he was being ridiculous.”

  “Oh, but he couldn’t have meant it,” Amelia said, somewhat uncertainly. “I’d feel positively beastly if he did mean it. I’m certain he was simply trying to save me. What did he look like when I said that?”

  “Honestly? I thought he looked rather crushed at first,” Maggie said gently. “He did make a good recovery, almost as if he was expecting such a reaction.”

  “Now I do feel beastly,” Amelia said. “I would never want to intentionally hurt him. He may come across as rather gruff, but he’s extremely nice. Too nice, really. He never even charges his patients, and there’s one woman who’s been getting all her groceries for years for free.”

  “And the three-legged dog?”

  Amelia nodded. “He really is very nice.”

  “And handsome.”

  It was Amelia’s turn to shrug, as if she hadn’t noticed just how beautiful a man he was, which of course she had. She was a living, breathing woman, after all.

  That night, when everyone had found a bed, Amelia lay in her room staring out the window at the unimaginable number of stars above her. She couldn’t sleep, her mind going over and over the day’s events. She hadn’t had a moment alone with Boone, who had barely been able to meet her eyes when she did find him looking her way.

  They’d eaten at the hotel, before it became filled with the rowdy cowboys that were starting to flood home from the cattle drives. Even at this moment, though her bedroom faced away from the hotel, she could hear someone banging on a piano that clearly needed tuning, and the loud, drunken singing of men. They seemed a harmless lot, but Boone didn’t want to expose his guests to their revelry.

  Boone. Since he’d proposed, she kept imagining what her life would be like with him, whether she could come to love him. And she realized as she lay looking at the stars, that she would. How could a woman not love a man as good and kind and handsome as Boone? It would be a calmer, gentler love than she would have had with Carson, certainly.

  Carson. She scowled into the night. Carson, she reminded herself, had never loved her, so any comparison between the brothers was fruitless. She seemed to have lost control of her life the minute Carson Kitteridge walked into the ballroom at the Christmas Ball just eight months before.

  As if that thought conjured him, Carson slipped into her room, nearly frightening her to death. “What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly, sitting up, her heart racing.

  Carson sat at the foot of her bed, his hands braced on his thighs as if he was ready to lunge up at a moment’s notice. “I’ve come to say good-bye. I’m headin’ west to California, and I won’t be back.” He let out a breath. “Ever.”

  Despite her resolve to remain unaffected by this man she thought she’d loved so desperately, her eyes pricked with unshed tears. “Good-bye, then.”

  “Before I go, I need to say something. I need…” He paused as if forming his words carefully, which was so unlike Carson. “I need to say I’m sorry. And I need to tell you something about Boone.”

  “I won’t marry him,” Amelia said, even though she knew, deep down, she would. But the broken part of her heart still hoped that Carson would magically turn into the man she’d thought he was.

  “I think you should,” Carson said quietly, and Amelia’s heart broke all over again. “I think you should because you’ll never find a better man than my brother. And because he deserves to be loved.”

  “But I don’t love him,” Amelia said.

  “You should,” Carson said with uncharacteristic fierceness. “If he asks, you say yes. And act happy. And make sure he never knows you don’t love him. Can you do that for me?”

  Tears spilled over, and Amelia wondered if Carson had any idea how painful it was to hear him urge her to marry another man. How could he be so utterly unfeeling? “I don’t know if I can marry him, but if I do, I will, of course, do as you say,” she said honestly.

  “I want to tell you a story,” Carson said, hiking one knee onto the bed so he could face her. “My father loved me somethin’ fierce. I was the apple of his eye and I loved him back just as much. But I’m ashamed of myself, I truly am. Because my father hated Boone. To this day, I don’t know why and I expect I never will. Boone was the good one, the one who made sure I was fed, who cleaned up my messes. He tried so hard to please my father, but he never could. Ever.

  “My father would beat Boone almost daily and say the most awful things. And Boone would just try harder. And I watched and figured Boone deserved what he got. I was just a little kid and my daddy was always nice to me. He’d lift me up on his shoulders and carry me around town and Boone would be trailin’ behind us. I didn’t know any better, you see.”

  Amelia made a small sound, but Carson ignored her and kept talking.

  “One night we were all eating supper and my father was in a rare good mood. I remember feeling so happy that he wasn’t yelling at Boone. I must have been six or seven and I let out some gas.”

  Amelia could see Carson smiling in the darkness.

  “Well, my daddy put down his fork and laughed and laughed. And we both laughed, even Boone, and it was the best sight I’d seen in a long time.” His smile slowly disappeared. “I don’t know what he was thinkin’, probably that he wanted to please my daddy, I don’t know, but Boone lit off some gas himself. And my father backhanded him so hard, he flew off his chair.”

  “Oh, no,” Amelia gasped. “Poor Boone.”

  “Yeah. He just got back up on his chair and finished eating. He didn’t even cry, but he was shakin’ so hard he could hardly get the food to his mouth. I remember thinking for the first time that what my daddy had done was so unfair. I’d never felt that before. Guess I was too wrapped up in being the favored son. Not long after, Boone moved in with Mr. Johnson and I hardly saw him at all.”

  Carson turned silent, staring off into the darkness.

  “Why did you tell me this?”

  “You have to know what mak
es a man to understand him,” he said simply. “He never deserved all those bad things, but I have a feeling that deep down inside, he thinks he did. I just want something good for him, just one good thing.”

  Amelia let out a small, sad laugh. “And you think I’m that good thing?”

  “You could be.” Carson leaned over and kissed Amelia’s forehead. “Good-bye, Amelia.” And then he stood and walked from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Chapter 11

  Amelia sat in the kitchen with her brother and Maggie playing piquet to pass the time. In Small Fork, the amusements were few and far between. In the fall, one of the ranchers held a Harvest Ball that all the ranchers from miles around attended, but few people in the town proper went. It was a hard-scrabble life for most, trying to eke out a living from a harsh land that its inhabitants would die protecting.

  Amelia simply didn’t understand Texans, and probably never would. Julia, for example, had told her during her last visit that she would never leave Small Fork, and especially not Texas. “Why would I?” she asked, as if Amelia were asking her to leave paradise.

  Paula Brentwood was back, unhappy as ever, with her equally unhappy husband, who’d dragged her home from Fort Worth. She’d been in the store that morning and Amelia had been so happy to see her. She hadn’t said a word that she might be staying in Small Fork as Boone’s wife, because other than blurting out his proposal, Boone hadn’t formally asked her.

  She hadn’t seen Boone yet that day, for he’d gone over to the Benaventes’ to check up on Enrique and hadn’t yet returned. Amelia was about to deal when she heard the distinct tinkle of the store’s bell.

  “It seems Boone has a customer,” she announced, then went into the store, hesitating slightly when she realized it was Boone.

  “Good morning,” she said, trying—and failing—to sound normal.