Finishing their food, Filly and Ginny cleared away the dishes while Luke and Blake visited. Aware that their guest was exhausted and in pain, Luke told Blake he’d make sure the guest room was sufficiently heated, then left the room.
Sitting with his eyes shut, Blake could sense Ginny’s presence near his chair before he felt her hand gently touch his shoulder.
“Blake?” she asked in a whisper. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“I will be tomorrow,” he said, opening his eyes and getting to his feet. Taking a moment to let his head stop spinning, he mustered a smile for Ginny. “If you wouldn’t mind showing me where you’d like me to stay, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”
“Certainly,” Ginny said, walking down the hall. Rather than take him upstairs, Ginny headed for the guest room Filly had spent time that day cleaning and fluffing for the arrival of Dora and Greg. She didn’t think Blake needed to climb the stairs and the guest rooms upstairs would be chilly, anyway.
“Here we are,” Ginny said, motioning Blake into a large bedroom done in blue and burgundy. Luke was folding back the blankets on the bed while Filly set a glass of water on a table next to the elaborate headboard.
“Thank you all, so much,” Blake said, ready to fall in the bed and sleep for a week. His eyes suddenly felt so heavy, he hoped he could keep them open long enough to remove his boots and pants.
“If you need anything, just ring this,” Filly said, setting a small silver bell next to the glass of water. “One of us will come running.”
“Thank you,” Blake said, thinking there was no way he was ringing that bell. “Good night.”
“Sleep well,” Luke said, taking Filly’s hand and ushering her out the door. Ginny gave Blake a glance that made her eyes look as blue and bottomless as a mountain lake he’d once seen before she stepped out the door, closing it behind her.
Blake slid out of his shirt then sat on the bed, trying to remove his boots and having a hard time of it. Ready to give up and sleep with them on, he started to scoot back on the bed when he heard a tap on the door.
“Come in,” he said, expecting it to be Luke.
Ginny stood there, looking so lovely the sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. The light from the hall cast a glow around her, highlighting the streams of golden hair cascading around her shoulders and down her back. A robe encased her form, but didn’t keep him from being able to see the outline of soft curves.
“I thought you might have need of some aid,” she said, stepping into the room and eyeing his boots.
Almost ready to climb into her bed, she wondered how Blake would be able to undress himself with his injured arm and decided to see if he needed help. At least she kept repeating that excuse to herself as she walked down the hall and tapped on his door. It absolutely couldn’t have anything to do with her desire to see him without his shirt on again. Trying not to stare at his exposed arm in the parlor had taken every bit of her concentration.
“Thanks,” Blake said, studying his feet. “I thought I might have to sleep with them on.”
Ginny laughed and the sound warmed his heart, reminding him of all the happy times they spent together. Happy times he hoped to have with her in the future.
“Let’s see if we can get them off, shall we?” she asked, picking up his foot and tugging on the boot. Yanking with all her might, she couldn’t get it to budge.
“I think you need to turn around, Genevieve,” Blake said, trying not to chuckle at the look of disbelief on her face at his suggestion.
She didn’t say anything as she lifted her robe and nightgown, straddled his leg, and grabbed hold of his boot again. Pulling on it, he put his other foot against her backside and pushed, eliciting a gasp from her as the boot came off and she followed it down to the floor.
“My stars, Blake!” She shot him a stern glare over her shoulder. Picking up the other foot, they repeated the process, although Ginny caught herself on the edge of the dresser before she fell to the floor.
Turning, she felt her gaze drawn to his and stood taking him in from his engaging eyes to his muscled chest and flat stomach. One thing was certain - a very beautifully formed man sat staring at her. “Will you require any further assistance?”
“Yes, actually, there is one more thing I need,” he said quietly, sounding serious as he scooted back and rested his head against the fluffy pillows.
“What is it?” Ginny asked, wondering if he needed help with his pants. If so, she’d have to get Luke because that was where she was drawing the line.
“Can you come a little closer?” Blake asked, motioning her to walk nearer.
Stepping next to where his head rested on the bed, she bent over, placing her face above his. “What do you need?”
“Just this,” he said, lifting his right hand and entwining his fingers in her hair, pulling her face down to his until he could kiss her. A brief touch he meant to be teasing turned into something potent and filled with fervor.
Ginny lost herself in the wonderful sensations, placing both her hands on either side of Blake’s face, exploring the feel of his stubbly cheeks against the soft palms of her hands.
Blake finally ended the kiss and looked at her with something in his eyes that made her want to keep kissing him all night.
Taking a step away from the bed, she held her fingers to her puffy, just-kissed lips and shook her head. “Anything else you need?”
“No, Ginny,” Blake said, giving her a wicked grin. “Nothing you can take care of. Thank you.”
“Good night, then,” she said, backing into the hall and closing his door for a second time.
Going to her room and climbing between the cool sheets on her bed, her cheeks felt hot enough to start a small fire. Staring into the dark, she hoped Blake had an easier time falling asleep than she would after that astounding kiss.
Chapter Fourteen
“Is everything ready, dearie?” Mrs. Kellogg asked as she put on her coat while Ginny and Filly bustled around the kitchen, preparing for the arrival of Dora and Greg.
“As ready as we can make it,” Filly said, smiling at the plump grandmotherly woman who came in three times a week and helped her with laundry and cleaning. “Thank you for all you did today, and every day.”
“You are most welcome,” Mrs. Kellogg said, picking up a basket and opening the door. “Good luck!” she called over her shoulder.
Ginny and Filly laughed as the woman breezed outside, on her way home.
“You shouldn’t be nervous, Filly. You know mother loves you,” Ginny said, watching as her sister-in-law frosted a huge three-layer cake. Finishing an arrangement of greens and berries for the table, Luke told Filly at lunch not to bother setting the dining room table. They would add a chair to the small table in the kitchen and plan to dine there.
Grateful to escape the ordeal of setting the big table and carting the food to the dining room and back again, Filly just hoped Dora wouldn’t mind the informality.
With an hour left before the stage arrived, Filly and Ginny both rushed to their rooms to change their clothes and comb their hair.
Ginny almost ran into Filly as she came out of her bedroom into the hall. “What are you doing?”
“Just making sure the guest room is ready for your mother. Although I was happy to have Blake stay last night, we did have to remake the bed and dust again. I wanted to convince myself everything looks perfect,” Filly said, sounding breathless.
Knowing her sister-in-law, she’d done half a dozen little things on her way up to change and another six on her way back to the kitchen.
Ginny grinned and pushed Filly toward the kitchen. “Everything is perfect. Mother will be fine. Besides, she fusses just to have something to do, not because she’s truly displeased. Luke and I figured that out a long time ago.”
“I noticed that myself,” Filly said with a grin, then raised an eyebrow at Ginny. “I also noticed Blake left bright and early this morning. Couldn’t you convince hi
m to stay a little longer?”
“It wasn’t for a lack of trying,” Ginny said, feeling her cheeks heat as thoughts of the kiss she gave Blake before he left this morning filled her mind. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but after breakfast, she found herself alone with him in the kitchen while Luke saddled his horse and Filly concocted some reason to run upstairs.
Helping him slip on his coat, she was smoothing the fabric across his shoulders when he suddenly turned around and wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in the curls piled on top of her head.
“Ginny, love, why must you be so entirely tempting?” he asked, taking her lips in a heated, intense kiss.
Before she could string enough words together to come up with a response, he was out the door and down the walk.
Later, as she hurried through the cold to the newspaper office, she heard the town buzzing about the cougar Blake killed.
Discovering Mr. Jenkins left the body at the upholstery shop to be mounted, Ginny went to see it for herself.
The animal was bigger than she’d envisioned and looked fierce, even in death. Quickly sketching it, she took note of the two bullet holes in the animal’s chest. Thinking about how close Blake had been to put those there made her say a prayer of thanks that he escaped with nothing more than a wounded arm in need of stitches.
Offering up multiple prayers of thanks through the day, she said one more as she filled glasses with water while Filly put potatoes on to boil, counting down the time until Dora and Greg Granger walked through the door.
When Luke arrived with their parents a few minutes later, she and Filly stood waiting, ready to greet them at the front entrance.
Dora engulfed her in a perfumed hug and Ginny stifled a laugh at her mother’s hat. The assortment of flowers, lace, and bows stood at least a foot off the crown of the narrow brimmed hat, making the petite woman look top-heavy.
“Mother, where did you get that hat?” Ginny asked, winking at Luke as he rolled his eyes.
“Oh, isn’t it something?” Dora asked, removing her coat and handing it to Luke before hugging Filly. “I was shopping with Mrs. Atwillinger one day and we saw it in the window. Of course, I snatched it up before she had the chance.”
“What a pity,” Ginny mumbled under her breath, thinking the hat a dreadful concoction. Whoever created it should be run out of business.
“What was that, dear?” Dora asked, hugging Ginny again.
“I said the hat is so pretty, Mother.”
Greg coughed into his hand to hide his laugh and hugged his daughter.
“How have you been, Ginny?” Greg asked, stepping back to take a good look at his youngest child. With glowing cheeks and a twinkle in her eye, he didn’t know the last time he’d seen her look so happy. “I think the Hardman air agrees with you.”
“I believe it does, Dad,” Ginny said, squeezing his hand.
Greg smiled at her warmly then turned his attention to his daughter-in-law.
“Filly, you get prettier every time I see you,” Greg said, kissing her cheek and walking with her to the kitchen, asking about dinner. Luke and Ginny accompanied Dora to the guest room where Luke deposited a load of bags, promising to return with Dora’s trunk.
Removing her hat and primping in front of the mirror above the dresser, Dora caught Ginny’s eye and smiled. “I brought a few things from home I thought you might like to have.”
“Oh?” Ginny asked, trying to think of anything she’d left behind she’d missed. Other than some of her clothes, piano sheet music, and the rest of her art supplies, she couldn’t think of a thing.
“Yes, I’ll get them for you later,” Dora said, smoothing down the skirt of her gray and lavender striped dress. “Luke tells me you’ve been working hard at the newspaper and helping with the church program. He said Filly has even been teaching you to how to properly run a household.”
“Yes, Mother. It’s been exciting and interesting. I’m enjoying being here very much,” Ginny said, realizing how much she had enjoyed Hardman and being with Luke and Filly.
“I’m glad to hear that, dear. Now, tell me what wonderful thing Filly and you made for dinner?” Dora said, knowing from past visits Filly would make all their favorite foods.
“Filly made most of it, although I made the biscuits without too much of her assistance,” Ginny said, linking her arm in Dora’s and walking down the hall. Luke struggled to get past them with the trunk and they all laughed when he squeezed by.
“I love to hear the sounds of laughter in this house,” Greg said as Dora and Ginny strolled in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, contentedly munching a cookie while Filly sliced the chicken. Ginny hurried to help set the food on the table.
Exchanging pleasantries and visiting about plans for the next few days, Ginny learned Blake agreed to be their guest Christmas Day for dinner.
“You should see that cougar, Dad,” Luke said, telling the story of their previous evening’s adventures to his parents.
“It’s huge, just like Luke said,” Ginny added to the conversation, smiling at her father.
“You saw it?” Dora asked, dropping her fork in her mashed potatoes.
“Yes, Mother. I drew a sketch of it for the article in the newspaper. It’s not every day a cougar is killed so close to town, you know,” Ginny said, annoyed that Dora obviously thought she shouldn’t have seen the big cat.
“Good gracious, Luke! What have you done to your sister?” Dora asked, turning a cool glare in the direction of her son. “You’ve always run a little on the wild side, but how could you corrupt your dear little sister so quickly?”
“He hasn’t done anything, Mother,” Ginny said defensively. “When I first arrived, Luke made it clear I was expected to do more than idly waste away my time, and encouraged me to find some worthwhile endeavor. I enjoy writing for the newspaper and sometimes draw sketches to go along with the articles.”
“Good for you, Ginny,” Greg said, smiling his approval. After Ginny spent two years flitting around Europe and came home even less interested in doing something purposeful with her time, he wondered what it would take to get her to open her eyes and realize life should be lived, not squandered.
It did his heart good to see her thriving in Hardman, although he had an idea part of her newfound happiness with life had something to do with the Stratton boy. Dora would have a fit to know Ginny was still in love with him, but Luke had mentioned he thought there was a possibility of the two rekindling the romance that ended a decade earlier.
That whole debacle had been Dora’s idea, not Greg’s. However, he loved his wife too much to tell her no when she insisted they move back to civilization, as she liked to call their home in New York.
“I’m proud of you, daughter. Very proud,” Greg said, beaming at Ginny across the table.
“Thank you, Dad,” Ginny said, swallowing back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. It was the first time she could remember her father saying he was proud of her. Her mother had thrown around the word many times, like when Ginny looked nice for a party or attracted the attention of a wealthy boy, but not for anything she’d done that was worthwhile.
“I’m proud of all three of you youngsters,” Greg said, pleased to have his family together for the holiday season.
“Thank you, Dad,” Luke said, grinning at his father while his mother rolled her eyes and helped herself to another slice of chicken. “Although I think you are getting carried away to call us all youngsters. I’m an old man, now, you know.”
“At what, the ripe old age of thirty-one?” Greg asked with a laugh. “You’ve got a long way to go to catch me.”
“Speaking of catching you,” Dora said, turning to look first at Luke then Filly. “When do you think we can look forward to being grandparents?”
Luke choked on the bite he was swallowing and Filly’s face turned a shade of red that matched the strawberry jam Greg was slathering on his biscuit.
“Dora, honey, I thought
we agreed not to discuss b-a-b-i-e-s,” Greg said, looking at his wife.
“We can all spell, Dad,” Ginny said, hiding her grin behind her napkin as Luke gulped water and Filly fluttered a napkin in front of her face. “Even it if isn’t any of our business.”
“Right you are, Ginny,” Greg agreed, and asked Luke about the bank, diverting the conversation to safer topics.
Dora and Greg joined Luke in the parlor by the fire while Ginny helped Filly with the dinner dishes.
“Sorry about Mother,” Ginny whispered as she dried and put away plates. “She sometimes doesn’t know when to be quiet.”
“It’s fine, Ginny. Her question just caught me by surprise,” Filly said, her cheeks blushing again. “I… um…”
“Yes?” Ginny asked, amused by Filly’s discomfort with the subject.
“Oh, never mind,” Filly said, rinsing the last of the dishes and picking up a rag to wipe off the table. “How many more practices do you have before the program?”
“Two,” Ginny said, hoping the students would be ready. “We’ll practice tomorrow and then again on the twenty-third.”
“If Luke or I can help, just let us know,” Filly said, then looked thoughtfully toward the doorway. “The program is something your mother might enjoy. Would you consider asking for her assistance?”
“Maybe,” Ginny said, bearing in mind how much her mother liked to share her opinions. She might ask her to attend practice tomorrow, just to see if Dora would like to get involved. “It would greatly depend on how much assistance she wants to provide.”
Filly gave her a knowing nod of her head and the two women shared a laugh as they prepared a tray with dessert and tea to take to the parlor.
“You might suggest she leave that hat here. It could scare some of the children,” Filly teased, remembering the monstrous hat Dora wore the first time she met the woman.
Ginny nodded her head in agreement. “We’ll have to make sure Abby sees it. I’m sure she’ll be intrigued.”
“Positively,” Filly said as they entered the parlor to find Greg and Luke engaged in a lively discussion and Dora studying a sketchpad Ginny left on a side table.
The Christmas Token Page 16
