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Christmas With the Kings, Kings of Montana Bonus Book

Page 16

by Vanessa Bartal


  Chapter 16

  “We’re going to die!” Chrissy exclaimed, already sounding on the verge of hysterics.

  “You’re really a glass-half-empty type woman, aren’t you?” PJ asked. Turning her attention to Ethan, she added, “How far do you think we’ve gone?”

  “A couple of miles maybe,” he said, though it was hard to be sure with the landscape covered by snow, dotted by trees that all looked very much the same.

  “Someone’s going to come for us, aren’t they? Please tell me someone’s going to come for us,” Chrissy said, tugging Ethan’s sleeve.

  “If we agree she needs it, can I be the one to slap her?” PJ asked.

  Ethan laughed, shaking free of Chrissy. “No one’s going to die. Calm down. We’ll just walk back.”

  “I can’t walk back in these.” She pointed to her expensive high heels.

  “Then wait here and we’ll come back for you,” PJ suggested.

  Chrissy scowled at her. “So I can be eaten by wolves or bears? No, thank you.”

  “I think wolves and bears are more discriminating about their food,” PJ muttered, only loud enough for Ethan to hear.

  He fought another laugh as he counted to ten, trying to remain patient with Chrissy. “What do you recommend, Chrissy?”

  “You’re going to have to carry me, of course,” she said.

  “I really appreciate the vote of confidence, but I don’t think I can carry you two miles in snow this deep.”

  Chrissy rolled her eyes. “On your back, Ethan. Surely you can carry me on your back. I’m barely over a hundred pounds.”

  “So ‘barely’ in New York means thirty pounds,” PJ said, unable to resist.

  “I do not weigh one thirty,” Chrissy practically yelled. “I’m one fifteen, unlike some amazons I won’t name.” She scowled at PJ’s tall frame.

  “I weigh one fifty,” PJ said proudly. “And I can walk on my own two legs.” As if to prove her point, she hopped down from the sleigh, her long legs sinking deep in the snow. With a sigh, Ethan descended from the sleigh and joined her.

  “Ladies, let’s call a truce,” he said as Chrissy geared up for another put down. “Let’s all concentrate on getting back to the house, okay?”

  They didn’t answer, but then he hadn’t expected them to. The snow was deep and difficult to wade through. Then Chrissy leapt onto his back, causing him to stagger forward until he almost tumbled face first into a drift.

  “Careful,” Chrissy snapped.

  “This is me remaining silent,” PJ said as she stepped around them.

  Ethan resisted the urge to groan. A hundred and fifteen, my foot, he thought. Chrissy had to be closer to PJ’s guess of one thirty. Not that he would tell her. She would probably use her stiletto as a spur and shove it into his side, urging him along. She might do that anyway. With Chrissy, it was hard to tell. How had he ever thought she was his type? If he had enough air in his lungs to speak, he would have declared his love for PJ again. Not only was she beautiful, but she was a genuinely good person; she was the total package.

  Ethan didn’t say as much to Chrissy or PJ, but he was beginning to feel his own sense of panic about his odds of making it with Chrissy on his back. He was sweating profusely—a bad thing to do when the temperature hovered somewhere around zero—his legs were burning, and he couldn’t draw a full breath with Chrissy’s legs wrapped around his midsection, squeezing off his air supply. Just when he felt on the verge of collapse, however, a rescue arrived in the form of Tanner, the King’s foreman, and Grant. Grant, of course, showed up barebacked on what Ethan could only assume was a stallion. He looked like he was in the middle of shooting a commercial for cologne, so perfect and brawny was his appearance.

  “What happened?” Tanner asked.

  “I don’t know; the sleigh broke,” Ethan said, wheezing the words.

  Tanner nodded, staring distractedly in the direction of the sleigh. “I’ve been wondering if that joint is weak. We’re going to have to have it welded.”

  “Good thing y’all have a blacksmith on site,” Grant said, nodding at PJ. “C’mon and ride with me, sugar, and we’ll go take a look at it.” He held out his hand to PJ who didn’t resist the invitation. She easily swung up behind Grant, hugging him around the waist when she was fully seated. Ethan swallowed down a lump of helpless jealousy.

  “I can take your rider,” Tanner said to Ethan. “Unless you’d rather keep her.”

  “No,” Ethan said, glad to be rid of Chrissy in more ways than one. He lifted her up to Tanner who reached down and settled her behind him.

  “So you’re a real cowboy,” Chrissy purred, her lashes fluttering.

  “A married one,” Tanner said, barely sparing her a glance. Word of Chrissy’s character had spread to the ranch hands, if Tanner’s reaction to her was any indication. Chrissy was a beautiful woman whose interest was usually enough to make even the most standoffish man fall all over himself around her.

  Clearly perturbed that her charms weren’t working, Chrissy set her bottom lip in a pout and didn’t say a word on the way home, much to Ethan’s relief. It was bad enough that he still had to wade over a mile in the deep snow. He didn’t need the sound of Chrissy’s yammering to add to his misery.

  By the time he arrived back at the farmhouse, he was exhausted. Chrissy was, too, though why was anyone’s guess. Maybe being obnoxious took a lot out of a person. She immediately closeted herself in her room and Ethan took a shower, trying to restore warmth and feeling to his numb toes. As he emerged from the shower, Grant and PJ were just returning with the sleigh. He followed them to the barn and watched while PJ forged a new piece for the sleigh.

  She made it look so easy, as if anyone could form a piece of iron by sticking it over a flame. Grant was equally impressed and told her so repeatedly while they talked and laughed together. Ethan felt like a third wheel. Occasionally PJ threw him a vague smile, but it was hard to get a word in edgewise with Grant monopolizing the conversation. He seemed to have a million questions for PJ. Most were technical questions about her job that were over Ethan’s head. When it looked like they weren’t going to finish talking any time soon, he finally gave up and went to bed, secure in the knowledge that the next day was Christmas Eve and he had the perfect present.

  The next morning, Christmas Eve, Ethan could barely move when he woke. It took him a minute to remember why he was so sore, and then it all came rushing back; Chrissy had used him as transportation through the deep snow.

  “I’m getting old,” he muttered as he tried to decide what hurt the most—his legs or his back. Pulling himself out of bed, he hobbled to the kitchen in search of pain reliever and found something better.

  PJ sat at the table, drinking her coffee and looking melancholy. The pain in his body forgotten, Ethan sat down beside her. She looked up with a wan smile.

  “Missing your dad?” he guessed.

  She opened her mouth to reply, and then she was crying. Without hesitation, Ethan moved closer and took her into his arms and—wonder of wonders—she went willingly. There was no weeping, just a gentle shower of tears as she rested her head on his chest and he ran his hand soothingly down her back.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “No, don’t be sorry,” she said, thinking how nice it was to be held and comforted. Even when her father was alive, he hadn’t been great at this sort of thing. When she was a very small girl, he had occasionally cuddled her and soothed her hurts, but as she grew those exchanges became a quick hug or a pat on the back. PJ hadn’t realized how much she was starving for human touch until she felt it again. Would she react to anyone this way, or was it Ethan? She so badly wanted to give in and love him, to trust him, but she wasn’t sure she could.

  The fact that he had dated Chrissy in the first place was a strike against him. What did it say about his character that he had dated someone like her? But even if she gave him the benefit of the dou
bt and assumed that Chrissy had somehow pulled the wool over his eyes, how could she get over the fact that he had asked her to lie and pretend to be someone she wasn’t? She realized that he was sworn to secrecy over the true identity of Suzanne Rey, but why not just tell Chrissy he couldn’t talk about it and let the chips fall where they may? From PJ’s perspective, it could only be his career that he was protecting. He had brought Chrissy here and now she was endangering the secret and Ethan was desperate to keep his job safe. And, in PJ’s opinion, that wasn’t the sort of man she wanted to be with.

  But despite her best resolve, she still felt herself drawn to him with an almost unbearable attraction. It wasn’t just that he was handsome; handsome men were a dime a dozen. The problem was that he was kind, thoughtful, and attentive. Or at least that was how he seemed. Which was his true character—the nice guy, or the guy who asked her to lie for him? She didn’t know, and until she found out, she couldn’t give in to him. He had said that he loved her, but she wasn’t sure she believed it. The timing was fast, but that wasn’t why she had her doubts. How could handsome, sophisticated Manhattan-based Ethan Prescott love a Montana born and bred farrier like her?

  She looked up at him from the circle of his arms, biting her lip as she studied his face. He smiled down at her and her heart flipped over.

  “I do love you, you know,” he said as if he could read her doubts. His fingers skimmed the side of her face, attempting to tuck a strand of hair back into her ponytail.

  Why? She wanted to ask, and, how? But she didn’t ask either of those things. She didn’t say a word, not even when his lips descended slowly toward hers and kissed her, softly, sweetly.

  Kissing had been another revelation for PJ. She had always assumed that she would enjoy it, but she had underestimated how much. And now she was learning that all kissing wasn’t the same. It was its own language, able to communicate a thought or feeling without words. Some made her feel woozy as if she were going to fall over when it was finished, and some, like this one, made her feel cherished. Either way, she was always reluctant when they ended, always left wanting more.

  When the kiss ended, there was a pleasant sort of silence between them. “Ethan, when do you go back to New York?” PJ asked, thinking that, at the most, she had a couple of days left and then her life would return to normal. Somehow she would have to get over him and move on. Could she do that? Or would she spend the rest of her life pining for what might have been, picturing Ethan with some beautiful, sophisticated New Yorker?

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. Cam asked…”

  “This is cozy,” Chrissy announced as she walked into the room and pulled out the chair beside them. “Don’t let me stop you; please, carry on your snuggle session with my boyfriend.”

  PJ’s emotions were too precarious to deal with the horrible woman this morning. It was one thing to cry in front of Ethan, but quite another to lose it front of Chrissy the ice princess. Instead, PJ retreated, extracting herself from Ethan’s embrace as she turned and stalked out of the room.

  “What is your problem?” Ethan hissed.

  “You’re carrying on a fling in the ashes of our relationship, and you ask me what my problem is?” Chrissy asked, her pretty blue eyes filling with tears.

  “You’ve already admitted you were using me to get closer to Suzanne, so drop the act, Chrissy. Can you simply not stand to see anyone happy? It’s Christmas. Have a heart, and if you can’t, then at least shut up so the rest of us can enjoy the day.”

  Ethan left her before she could think up a reply. He searched the ranch for PJ, but couldn’t find her. Eventually he sat on the porch, trying to acquaint himself with his new home state. It was remarkably, breathtakingly beautiful.

  In New York, he kept so busy that there was never time to think about his life. The last few days in Montana had provided him with the time to ponder and, while he hadn’t always liked what he found out about himself, the mental clarity had brought peace he hadn’t even known he was searching for. He was going to like it here; he was sure of it. Maybe he would even learn to ride a horse, lasso, and do all the other things that the King brothers did without thinking.

  Eventually he saw PJ again as she exited Ivy’s house and headed toward him. Their eyes met and held. Hers were rimmed with red and puffy. Had she been crying with Ivy? Over him?

  He stood as she approached. “PJ, I’m sorry about this morning. I…”

  She held up a hand, forcing a smile as she cut him off. “It’s all right, Ethan,” she said resignedly. “We’ve been over this. You’re going back to New York in a couple of days, and it will be as if this whole interlude never happened. Let’s just get through it the best we can, okay?”

  “But that’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m not…”

  She shook her head, pressing her lips together. “Please, don’t,” she choked as she dashed by him and entered the house. He went after her, but when they reached the kitchen, Layla, Sam, and Belle looked up at them.

  “You’re just in time,” Layla said with a smile for PJ. She and Sam stood at the counter, butter, flour, eggs, and sugar spread before them. “Ready to bake?”

  PJ nodded, her forced smile firmly in place. Belle sat at the table, wanly leaning on one elbow. Ethan sat beside her.

  “How are you holding up, Boss?”

  “This baby’s trying to kill me, Ethan,” she said, her voice as flat and gray as her pallor. “I’m sick every minute, and I’m so tired. I’ve fallen asleep four times this morning. How am I going to go back to New York like this?” Her eyes were watery with unshed tears.

  “You don’t have to go back, Belle. Work from here until the sickness passes.”

  “I can’t be here that long. It’s okay for the short term, but I don’t have an assistant here, and I can’t do it on my own.” She cast him a furtive look. “I don’t suppose you would maybe want to…” She broke off, shaking her had. “Never mind. It’s crazy. You’d never leave your life in New York. Would you?” She gave him a pathetic look from her peripheral vision as if afraid he would say no if she looked directly at him.

  “Maybe,” he said, unable to resist the urge to toy with her a little.

  She grasped his hand in both hers. “Are you serious?” she whispered. “What can I do to make you agree? Please, Ethan, I’ll do anything. Take your salary in New York and add twenty percent.”

  Ethan choked on a laugh. “Don’t you think you’d better check with Cam about this?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He got me pregnant years ahead of schedule. He owes me this.”

  “Are you really going to hold it against him, Belle? Aren’t you at all excited about the baby?”

  Belle looked around to make sure her sisters-in-law were out of earshot. “I’m terrified, Ethan. For the first time in my life, I think I’m going to be really bad at something. I have no idea what to do with a baby.”

  “Belle, who organizes those toy drives at work every Christmas?”

  “That’s different, Ethan. That’s organizing. I can do that; I’m good at that.”

  “My point is that, until you came along, no one thought of doing such a thing. You like to pretend you’re heartless, but you’re not. You have a soft heart, a mother’s heart, and you’re going to do great.”

  “I don’t know how,” Belle said, sounding uncertain for the first time since he’d known her. Belle was a perfectionist, the type who did everything perfectly or didn’t do it at all.

  “You’re not going to be a perfect mom,” Ethan said.

  “Gee, thanks, Ethan,” Belle said, wiping her watery eyes.

  He smiled. “But who wants that? Can you imagine how intimidating it would be to have a perfect mom? You know you’re different here than when you’re in New York. Think about it—would you want New York Belle as a mom? Or do you want Montana Belle, the one who’s quirky and funny and not quite right all the time? And it’s not like you’re alone here.” He glanced at the other King women
and PJ.

  She turned her attention to the other women, too. “What do you think are my chances of hiring PJ to be my nanny? She’s so good with kids.”

  “I don’t know,” Ethan said, watching PJ as his mind turned somersaults. What if they were married and living nearby? Would PJ want to keep her job as a farrier, or would she prefer doing what Belle suggested and watching her kids? He knew she loved kids. Working as a nanny would prepare her for their kids which hopefully weren’t too far off.

  “Whoa, I lost you. You look like you got hit in the head by a brick,” Belle said, waving her hand in front of his face.

  “I was thinking about babies,” Ethan admitted.

  “Are you thinking of proposing to the blond? What’s her name?”

  “Chrissy. I guess you’ve been out of the loop. Chrissy and I broke up. I somehow fell in love with PJ.”

  “Oh, that’s weird,” Belle said. Leave it to her to tell the absolute truth. “And fast.”

  Ethan sighed. “I know. Is there something seriously wrong with me, Belle? I mean, you know how many women I’ve dated; you’ve met a lot of them. They’re nothing like her, and yet I’ve never felt like this before. She’s too young for me, too good for me, and totally out of reach.” He shrugged. “But I can’t help myself.”

  “Now that I think about it, this makes total sense, Ethan,” Belle said. “No offense, but your girlfriends have all been nightmares. I’ve always dreaded meeting them because I was afraid I was going to blurt out how much I don’t like them. I decided you simply had horrible taste in women. But PJ, well, she’s something different, something special.”

  “Are you telling me you approve, Boss?”

  “I approve,” Belle said, resting her head on her extended arm. “You really think I’ll be a good mom, Ethan?”

  “I think you’ll be a better mom than you are a literary agent,” Ethan said.

  Belle whistled appreciatively. “That’s really saying something.”

  Ethan chuckled. “It sure is.” He stood and stretched. “I should get out of the kitchen and join your husband and brothers before they come and take away my man card.”

  “Good luck,” Layla called. “They’re on twin duty today. The kitchen might be a safer place.”

  Ethan was tempted to stay, but he thought maybe this was a traditional time for the women to be together, and he didn’t want to intrude. With a smile, he went to the living room and joined the men and babies.

 

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