Blacksmith's Beauty (River's End Ranch Book 19)

by Caroline Lee

  When they got back to the cabin, she and her siblings disappeared into Matt’s room to wrap the last-minute gifts. The three of them were always in charge of stuffing their parents’ stockings, and they’d chosen lots of fun things. Daddy’s favorite cinnamon candy, a new deck of playing cards, and one of those fun wooden games with the rubber bands and marbles. For Mom, they’d picked out some of Frank’s Fudge, a set of heart-shaped measuring spoons, and a lovely pair of earrings made from garnets that had been mined nearby. And of course, they’d purchased a block of fudge to “taste-test” while wrapping.

  When they were through, Faith nudged her shoulder. “I think you’re going to explode. Looking forward to tonight?”

  Was she that obvious? Belle smiled. “Maybe. Just a bit.”

  Matt snorted as he tied the last bow. “A bit? You’ve been vibrating as bad as Tootles, but with excitement. Put your finger here.” He nodded to the middle of the bow, and when Belle complied, he finished it with a flourish. “There. All done.” He tucked Daddy’s cards into the big stocking. “Now go away. Faith promised me she’d watch Die Hard with me, since all the rest of you have no taste in Christmas movies.”

  Laughing, Belle stood up and almost tripped over Tootles, who had bounced over. “I have taste. It’s just different from your taste. Better, arguably.”

  Faith just stuck her tongue out as she reached for the remote.

  Belle could already smell their popcorn as she settled in her room with her computer. Mmm, popcorn. Maybe she’d make some later. They still had a few more hours before the church service and tree-decorating—and Elf!—and Mom had mentioned doing somethings simple for dinner anyhow. Probably pizza while they watched It’s a Wonderful Life, like they’d done last year.

  After a few minutes fooling around online, Belle had a sudden desire to talk to Hunk. Why? She’d barely thought of him in the last week, and when she did, it was to compare him to Elf. Was she still feeling guilty about abandoning her friend? Well, no time like the present. If he happened to be online, she could wish him a Merry Christmas.

  He was online. But surprisingly, he didn’t message her the moment she logged in, as he usually did. She opened a chat window with him and waited, but…nothing. Was he sulking because she’d been ignoring him? She bit her lip. She liked Hunk, and had enjoyed all the time they’d spent chatting over the last six months, but how could she think of him when she had Elf to kiss?

  Finally, she screwed up her courage, and typed “Merry Christmas” in the chat window.

  After almost a minute, he replied: “Hi. Merry Christmas.”

  Hmm. Was he angry? “What are you up to?” she typed.

  But he replied almost immediately this time. “Nothing much. Sitting in my sister’s house. Fam is playing board games while Muz preps tonight’s pasta.”

  Muz? The casual reference startled her. The Redferns called their mother Muz. She’d never heard it before…it was odd that Hunk knew someone called Muz.

  But maybe it was just because she’d been so focused on Elf recently. Maybe Hunk meant to type something else, and her brain just immediately equated his typo to Elf’s mother. She swallowed and dove back into the conversation.

  Elvis’Queen: Which board game?

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Monopoly. I’d rather eat soap than play.

  Elvis’Queen: HA! Me too. I think it’s a boring game. Have you tried dominoes? Way more fun.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: No, but I trust you. I’ll put in a vote for that one next time.

  Elvis’Queen: Do it! Your sis won’t mind.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Probably not. They’re all good sports.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Sooo… What are YOU up to?

  Elvis’Queen: Resting before the big night. Santa’s coming, you know.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Heh. Yeah. A good night for a Christmas movie.

  Elvis’Queen: Yeah! Too bad Elvis didn’t make any of them, huh? You DID know that, right?

  Another full minute went by before he typed, “Yeah. Yeah I did.” Was she just imagining the hesitation in his typing? Or was he distracted with his family?

  She tried to shrug it off. “Anyhow,” she typed, “It’s snowy and cold and there’s a fireplace and hot chocolate, and we're stuck watching some Jimmy Stewart nonsense.”

  “Elvis would’ve been perfect.”

  “Yeah.”

  Neither typed anything for a while, and Belle spent the time biting her lip and staring at the blinking cursor. Had she hurt his feelings when she’d ignored him for so long? It was hard to tell his mood online.

  Finally, those three dots popped up that showed her he was typing again.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Hey, you told me that you won the Miss Idaho competition, right? So you’re, like, Miss Idaho?

  Belle swallowed. Why was he asking her this now? It seemed odd for it to come up right after she’d finally confessed to Elf…who’d taken it well, all things considered. She’d expected him to make a bigger deal of it, now that she thought of it.

  Elvis’Queen: Yeah. A few years back. So I’m not reigning anymore.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Reigning, huh? That’s what it’s called?

  Elvis’Queen: Yep. I did a bunch of promotional stuff and had to travel around the state. Had to wear that big tiara to every official event I attended. It got annoying to always have to be dressed up and my hair and makeup perfect all the time. I was glad when it was over and I could go back to focusing on college.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I can imagine. Miss Idaho. That’s wild.

  Elvis’Queen: Why?

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: And you’ve got a brother or a sister who is training to be in the Olympics, right?

  Elvis’Queen: Both of them.

  What was all this about? Belle stared at the cursor, her brows furrowed in thought. Why was he asking all these questions?

  And then he typed “Any chance you’ve got a pet pig?” and Belle’s entire world changed.

  How did he know about Tootles? Her first instinct was to type “WHAT?” but that was silly. After all, she could see his last message right there, sitting innocently like it hadn’t kicked her in the gut. She didn’t need him to repeat it. But it was beyond creepy that he’d asked.

  Back when she was a teen, her mother had sat her down and given her an earful about sharing personal information online. She’d said that chat rooms and forums were full of weirdos who got off on figuring out everything they could about innocent girls and finding them and doing horrible things to them. Even though at the time, Belle had assumed her mother was exaggerating, she’d still always been very cautious. When she’d joined the Elvis forum, she’d been careful to only share general things about herself. But the more she’d gotten to know Hunk, the more she felt like she could trust him. It was why she’d shared her Miss Idaho title with him…but she hadn’t told him the year, so he couldn’t have looked her up or anything.

  How did he know?

  After far too long staring at his last question, Belle finally unclenched her fists and hesitantly typed, “Why would you ask me that?”

  His response was immediate. “Because I have to know. Belle?”

  Oh God. Belle’s heart climbed up her throat. He even knew her name?

  She didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond. But after a long moment, the three dots popped back up, and she held her breath until his words showed up on screen.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: So, hey. Did I ever tell you why I chose my screen name?

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Pretty sure I didn’t.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I told you that I was a mechanic, right? Well, that’s not my real passion.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I make stuff and sell it online. I work with heat and metal and fire and it seemed appropriate.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I’m a blacksmith.

  I’m a blacksmith. Those words stared out of the screen at her, the cursor blinking mockingly. I’m a blacksmith.

  A blacksmith who knew she was a f
ormer Miss Idaho. Who knew her siblings’ Olympic dreams. Who knew about her pet pig, and Elvis’s dreamy cheekbones, and who won karaoke contests.

  All at once, the hundred little hints coalesced into the most beautiful realization.

  “Elf?????” she typed, the row of question marks mirroring her thoughts on the whole situation.

  “Yeah.” He typed, and she could imagine the way his gorgeous lips would be curving up into that slow, sensual smile she loved.

  It was Elf! Her friend from the last six months was actually the man she’d spent so much time with this week? The man she enjoyed kissing so much yesterday? The man she was slowly falling in love with?

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  The three dots told her he was typing something. “Hope you’re not upset, Queenie.”

  Her fingers fairly flew over the keyboard in an attempt to reassure him.

  Elvis’Queen: Why would I be upset? OMG Elf, this is WILD! Can you believe it??

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Not really. Last night when you said you were a beauty queen, that’s what made me realize you were…

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Well, you.

  Elvis’Queen: Ha! Yes. WOW. I can’t believe this!

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Me neither. But it kinda makes sense.

  Elvis’Queen: ???

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Well, when I met you, I mean you as Belle, I liked you a lot. Immediately. It makes sense, because we’d been talking for so long. We were already friends.

  Elvis’Queen: But you didn’t know it was me. And I didn’t know it was you.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: No, but maybe I could tell subconsciously somehow?

  Belle smiled. And then smiled even bigger when she re-read his line about liking her a lot. Elf was different, alright. She was still smiling when she typed, “All my life, I’ve known why men ‘liked’ me. I won the ‘beauty lottery’ as Mom says. I’ve been told how pretty I am since I can remember. It’s why I don’t talk about it online or anything.

  “I understand,” he typed. “Not going to lie: You’re gorgeous.”

  She took a deep breath.

  Elvis’Queen: But with you…

  Elvis’Queen: Well, when you first asked me out, I turned you down because you were a flirt. You were really good-looking, and I knew that guys like you only wanted to date someone like me because of what I looked like.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Not true.

  Elvis’Queen: Well, it was for me. But then, the more I got to know you, the more I realized that you WERE a nice, genuine guy, and could be a good friend if I let you.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Turns out that we were good friends all along, eh, Queenie?

  Belle smiled at the nickname. “Yeah,” she typed. Sometimes, it was a lot easier to confess her feelings online. But she could imagine his smile, and the twinkle in his eyes. “Gosh, I still can’t believe the coincidence. How come I didn’t see it?”

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I know, right??? It seems so obvious. How many hunks of burning love are there out there who know as much about Elvis as ME?

  Elvis’Queen: HAHAHAHA! What’s that old line? You’re a swell guy, and you’ve got a head to match.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Snort.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Hey, Queenie?

  Elvis’Queen: Yeah?

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: I’m glad we’re friends.

  Elvis’Queen: Me too.

  HunkaHunkaBurninLuv: Merry Christmas.

  They spent the next hour in a private chat, talking about all sorts of things; their families, Christmas traditions, the competitors from karaoke last night. She’d won “Most Unique” and Elf had won “Most Authentic,” and they had to tease each other about their heaping platefuls of cookies they’d brought home.

  Chatting with him was fun. It had always been fun, but knowing who he was…knowing that her Hunk was actually her Elf... Wow. They were able to talk about all sorts of things they hadn’t before, now that she knew who he was.

  After kissing him last night—and the anticipation of kissing him again tonight at the tree-decorating event, maybe—just being able to chat with him now felt easy. Light-hearted. Right.

  Like they belonged together.

  She loved it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Pastor Kevin’s Christmas Eve service was real nice. Elf stood beside Muz and held the hymnal in desperate hopefulness in front of her during all the songs. He probably shouldn’t have bothered; the little woman approached Christmas songs the same way she did conversation. She just belted out whatever lyrics she felt appropriate to the tune, regardless of what the verse actually was.

  He was pretty sure he saw Bridget—Pastor Kevin’s wife—quirk an eyebrow in their direction during a particularly enthusiastic “Oh come, holly plateful, playing songs on trumpets! Oh come ye, oh angels, to Jesus’s stable.” Amazingly, she nailed the tune to Oh Come All Ye Faithful perfectly…it was the lyrics she treated with her usual disregard for tradition.

  But still, it wouldn’t be a Christmas service without Muz screwing up the songs, and Dad nodding along to the sermon at random points, and Dink snickering each time Ellie tried to hit a high note. Sure, this year they were in a new place celebrating, and they had Jace and Will standing with them—although Elf’s family was seated right behind the rest of the Westons so that Will could be with his siblings—but they were together as a family, and that’s what mattered.

  Of course, being with his family, and listening to Muz’s wince-worthy lyric-slaughtering, didn’t mean that he couldn’t steal glimpses across the aisle to where the Kalani family sat. He even managed to catch Belle’s eye a time or two, and smiled when she blushed at his winks.

  Belle was Queenie. Who would’ve thought? No wonder he’d been so drawn to her. No wonder he’d fallen in love with her so easily. Sure, she was gorgeous. And sure, he was ready to settle down and have the kind of life his parents and sisters had found. But that didn’t explain why he’d fallen for Belle so quickly.

  But the fact that he’d spent the last six months looking forward to nine p.m., when he could log on and chat with his friend…that might explain how he’d known Belle was something special, even before he’d know she was the same friend he’d been slowly falling for online.

  Elf grinned ruefully as Muz butchered the words to one of his favorite carols—“Good King Wences’ car backed out, on the feet of Steven”—and realized that he’d been falling in love with Queenie for months now. He hadn’t known what she looked like or where she was, but she was his friend, and he’d shared all kinds of opinions and secrets with her. And then to meet Belle, and realize she and Queenie were the same person…? Well, this afternoon’s online chat had sure been eye-opening. He couldn’t wait to get Belle alone after the service, and kiss her.

  Was it the right time to tell her he loved her? Maybe not. But he could darn well show her what she meant to him, now that he knew she was his Queenie.

  After the service, he craned his neck, trying to see past the crowd that was pushing out of the church and towards the large Christmas tree which grew in the center of town. But Muz’s arm on his coat sleeve stopped him.

  “Calm down, Elfikins. She’ll be there. An extra few minutes won’t kill you, and you won’t have to trample anyone like a China in a bullstore.”

  He forced himself to relax and grinned down at his mother. “What’s a China?”

  “You know? Like a piece of china, I assume.” Muz rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t make these things up!”

  “Yes, Muz.” Elf managed not to laugh at her reasoning, and settled himself back next to her, and just allowed the flow of the crowd to sweep him where he wanted to go.

  But once their little group reached the tree, he ushered them into an empty spot and stepped away to look for Belle. Where was she? There was her family, huddling together a little ways away while they waited for Andrew to light up the tree. They were already holding their ornaments, and Tootles was tucked safely
into Faith’s arms. But where was Belle?

  That’s when the back of his neck prickled under his scarf, and he turned, just as she threw herself into his arms. He couldn’t help it; he laughed and spun her around. Having her in his arms—having her smiling joyfully like this—just felt right.

  This was the Christmas miracle Muz had been talking about last week.

  They were both laughing when their lips met, and Elf forgot about everyone and everything else for a while. Dimly, he heard Wade Weston make the announcement for people to come forward and hang their ornaments, but at that moment, Elf couldn’t have let Belle go if his life depended on it.

  After a lifetime or two—or maybe it was only a dozen heartbeats—she pulled away long enough for them both to breathe. He let her slide down and stand on her own feet, but liked the way her long green skirt brushed up against the top of his boots. Smiling, he dropped his forehead to hers and breathed in her salted-honey scent.

  He loved this woman.

  “Belle, I—”

  She interrupted his whispered confession. “Mine first!”

  “What?” He blinked and straightened, his train of thought derailed.

  “I said, me first. I want to give you your ornament first.”

  She vibrated with the same excitement she’d had when she’d finished dancing last night. He smiled, thinking she was acting a little like Tootles did when he was separated from her. “Fine by me. Is it Elvis?” he teased.

  “No, silly.” As she pulled out a small package from the pocket of her pea coat, she blushed slightly and blinked shyly up at him. “Besides, I think it’s safe to say that I have a new favorite Elvis.”

  He couldn’t help but remember her confessed secret from lunch yesterday. I love Elvis. Could she love him as much as his Queenie loved The King?

  Half-focused on that thought, he unwrapped the ornament and chuckled. Somehow, Belle had managed to find a pair of red porcelain cowboy boots that matched the pair he was wearing now. They were one of the first things he’d purchased when he’d come to Idaho, and he wore them whenever he wasn’t working.