Christmas for Ransom

by Tanya Hanson

  At the boardinghouse, he did the same to Miss Letha May after gulping down a hefty dose of her rabbit stew.

  “I need these duds ready for Miz Eliza’s pageant tonight,” he said of his new black wool trousers. “I need the hems to pass my ankles to the south.”

  His landlady huffed but quickly pocketed the money. “I will do what I can, Mr. Ransom. But if your trousers run out of fabric, you’ll have no choice but to look like a schoolboy wading in the creek of a summer’s day. Nothing much I can do.” With a mouthful of pins, she bent to his feet and dug around.

  After ciphering with a measure tape, she raised her head to look around his room. He watched approval flicker in her eyes at the sight of his tidy bed. What? Were all men expected to be downright lazybones? Gram-maw had taught him early on how to tend a tumble of sheets and blankets.

  “Where you from, Mr. Ransom, if you got no luggage?”

  Wasn’t much he cared to say, not if he had to worry about looking like a school boy in short pants in front of the school marm herself. “A long way off. And a long story, too,” he grumped.

  Miss Letha May grunted with pleasure around her mouthful of pins. “Oh, goody, Mr. Ransom. I got plenty to work with.”

  He grunted back.

  “And that new frock coat, it fits your shoulders like it was made for ’em. You’ll be looking right as rain tonight.” She snipped and pinned, then mumbled out of nowhere. “You sweet on Miz Eliza?”

  “What?” He tried to act offended at her snooping but fact was, he was. And likely folks could tell.

  “Well, you wouldn’t be the first. And likely not the last.” She spit out a handful of pins. “She’s as pretty as a princess. Rich as one, too. Once menfolk find all that out, most hunt her down.”

  “I don’t follow.” Well, some of her words, he did. The pretty part. But not the rich as a princess.

  “Yep. Comes from some fancy ranch in Potter County. How she ended up here, I can’t figure out. All these rough and rowdy hide hunters. Railroad men. Bounty hunters.”

  “She needed a teaching job. Answered an advertisement,” he said, recalling Eliza’s own words.

  “I know. I know. But the heiress to The Stony Brook Ranch shouldn’t need to work a’tall.”

  Stony Brook Ranch? Shocked, he smashed into a pinpoint and started a second time. Miss Letha May chuckled. “Careful, now. I got your hems marked. You get out of these drawers now, and I’ll have them ready before suppertime.”

  He about choked as he ducked behind a screen to disrobe. Nerves ran up and down his spine like lice, nerves he hadn’t felt since the day all those years ago, getting the gang safely out of Gringo Gorge.

  “What? Where?”

  “Stony Brook. Heard tell her horses got thieved last Thanksgiving Day. Right under her granny’s nose. Likely the Ahab Perkins gang. But you know how they disappear into thin air. Thing is…” She paused.

  Ransom heard her teeth scrape together while the inside of his head twirled. Potter County. Stony Brook. Those glorious Morgans. A pitchfork descending on his head.

  “Thing is, she saw it done.” Miss Letha May went on “Until the thief kicked her in the ribs, knocked her out cold. Can you imagine any villain doing something so wicked to a girl?”

  Chapter Four

  “Why, Ransom, you know your ABC’s right well.” Eliza smiled at the frown on his face. They sat together on one of the benches he’d brought in for spectators at the pageant tonight. But she’d propped his primer atop his knees to lean into him whenever she could and soak him up.

  He exhaled deep and rubbed his chin hard with his hands. “Never reckoned how to string ’em into words, though. I got to school some as a kid. But Gram-maw had apple trees and a cornfield. I had to work. Then…” His words slowed to a crawl. “She took sick, and I had to tend her.”

  “Well, you’re doing very well for our first day. Now, if you can sound this out, you’ll have read a word.”

  “Moon.”

  “Good job,” she chirped.

  “You’re making me sound like a pet dog.” His grumble husked in the sound that always sent her heart racing. Soft gravel, maybe like a dusting of sugar over butter on bread. Or black pepper stuck to corn kernels.

  “No, I do not.” He read more words and she quivered, handing him a slate where she’d made letters out of dotted lines, “Now, if you can copy this we can get on with our ride.”

  His rough strong hands grabbed the chalk with a fist, and as kindly as she could, she corrected the position. She reckoned he didn’t much like taking orders from a woman, hired tutor or not.

  “All righty. This won’t take me long,” he told her.

  And it didn’t. He deftly completed his assignment, fingers supple and determined as they printed out cat and dog, horse and cart, tree and flower, Ransom and Eliza. She wasn’t sure how a man doing schoolwork could set her heart racing, but it surely did, specially the last pair of words.

  The thought of spending an hour free and clear and alone with Ransom in the bright fresh air, him riding Nitro and her atop Firewalker, did strange things to her woman parts. Her breasts tightened underneath her chemise as if he touched them. The stove raged on the other side of the room, but her face bloomed like she sat right next to it.

  “There you go. That’s just right.” She stood up to cool down but missed him when she moved away. “We can continue tomorrow. Let’s get the horses.”

  “Sounds about right.” He stood, too, and nodded as he examined the room again, his pride apparent. The decorating would not have gone as easy without him, and without thinking, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it in gratitude. It was a rather personal gesture, and in case he found her unseemly, she tried to pull her fingers away although she’d miss him even more when she did.

  But his grip stayed firm, and for a long moment, he gazed down into her eyes as though trying to memorize her face. For a flash, his lids squinted around the edges. She ached for a kiss but even Stony Brook’s rebellious granddaughter hesitated to steal one.

  “What is it, Ransom?” she asked instead as his whiskey-colored stare poured over her some more.

  “You’re so darn pretty.” His carved cheekbones reddened. “Sorry for the cuss.”

  “No matter. I’ve heard it before. Said it myself.” Her heart fluttered inside her ribcage, and she rose on tiptoe, just in case.

  But he moved toward the door, saying, “I just don’t see how you’ll fit everybody in here tonight.”

  Disappointment flooded her, but they still had the afternoon. “Folks crowd in together. Some stand outside and observe through the windows. It all works somehow,” she said. “Now, let’s go.”

  In a polite but not romantic way, he rested her arm across his as they made their way to the livery. Still, his touch sparkled like a star falling to her feet.

  “So do you still have those apple trees?” she asked lightly after a wave to the mercantiler stocking his pickle barrel. She needed to know everything she could about the man who was stealing her heart.

  Ransom tipped his hat as Mrs. Connor lugged Tessie inside the store. He blew the little girl a kiss, and Eliza’s heart melted.

  “Nope,” he said finally. “Tornado took ’em. Drought got the corn.”

  “Then what do you do? I mean, what is your occupation?”

  A rock got in the way of his toe, and he kicked it. But he still walked quieter than any human she’d ever known, big or small.

  “Guess you could say I’m a…tracker.”

  “What do you track?” she asked lightly. “Missing cows? Robbers and thieves? You a bounty hunter? A lawman?”

  He laughed out loud, deep in his gut. “No lawman. I just retrieve things that…other folks tell me to retrieve. That’s all.”

  A brilliant idea began to root itself in her mind. While she saddled Firewalker and Ransom tended Nitro, it blossomed so big she thought she might choke. It was not just a brilliant plan, but perfect.

  As they canter
ed out of town, she pulled next to him.

  “Ransom? Are you on a tracking job now?”

  He shrugged, looking down at her from his brim, eyes intent. “I am not. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, Ransom. It’s come to me. It can all tie together.”

  “What tie together?”

  “You, me. All of it. After the pageant tonight, you and me, we head to my granny’s. We can still have our lessons on the trail, and we’ll get there in time for Christmas dinner.”

  His face crinkled. “Where to and how far?”

  “Potter County. Ever heard of a spread called Stony Brook?”

  Despite his thick new duster, Ransom stiffened in the cold wind. He coughed. “I have.”

  “Well, then you know there’s plenty of room for you.”

  “Christmas is three days away. Won’t take us that long to get there.”

  “I think it might,” she said slowly, eager to reveal the main part of their business transaction.

  “You see, Ransom. I decided how you can repay me for my tutoring. My granny’s horses got thieved on Thanksgiving. Trail went cold soon after, and the law got busy with other crimes. But you ‘retrieve’ things. You said so yourself. I want you to track down Granny’s horses for me. That way we can call it even, and you get a tasty roasted goose.”

  ****

  A tasty roasted goose? Hell, nothing would compare to those berry lips of hers, the flavor he imagined. Heck.

  “That’s a mighty lot to chew on, Eliza,” Ransom said as he pulled away in a fast trot. His jaw clenched, and he reckoned his poker face would slip if he stayed at her side. Even if it was where he most wanted to be because he sure missed her when he wasn’t.

  Firewalker caught up quickly. “Hold up, Ransom. My idea is perfectly sensible, and you know it.”

  “How do you reckon?” he asked slowly and reined in next to her.

  Side by side, they walked the horses so they could talk. For a flash, the rough road leading away from town and the brisk open air reminded him of being on the run. A warm bed and hot meal at a fancy ranch for Christmas didn’t sound half-bad. Until he recalled just which ranch it was. His heart near busted his ribs. Worse, it was the place he’d beat up Eliza. Unknowing, of course, but fact was, he’d attacked a girl. Ransom could still hear Miz Letha May, chastising like any ma. Can you imagine any villain doing something so wicked to a girl?

  “Just as I said.”

  Her beautiful voice hung in his ears, relieving him of the ugly memory for the time being.

  “You can keep up with your lessons and in paying me back, we might find Granny’s horses.”

  “Thought you said the trail had gone cold.” He knew she spoke true. Ahab had instincts for hiding in plain sight, hanging tight to stolen goods until the law got sidetracked by another misdeed. During which time the gang had disguised horseflesh beyond recognition, sold it on the cheap while making a decent profit nonetheless.

  Eliza gave him the smile that all but winded him. Ah, those lips.

  “Well, yes,” she said. “The thief left no clues. But the Rangers suspected the Perkins gang, and if he’s one of them, they had to rid themselves of the horses somehow along their way out of the territory. You’re a professional tracker. There might be something you can discover.”

  That he might. Heat spilled from the top of his head, and it wasn’t only desire. He knew every single place those horses had got rid. In something like panic, he closed his eyes but pretended it was a sneeze. Hell and damnation. He cussed so loud in his head he wondered if she’d heard.

  “No. Positively not,” he said stern as he could. “You’re a proper lady. I just came in from the trail, and most times, it was downright miserable. I won’t have you camping out in winter weather.”

  He didn’t exactly mean it. Camping out with her tight in his arms, aching for warmth with a fire blazing nearby started his crotch burning just at the thought.

  They were close enough she could reach out and touch his arm. “That’s sweet of you, Ransom.”

  Her simple touch fanned the fires in his manpart.

  “But I know all the spreads between here and the Stony Brook. Lone Star folk are downright hospitable. ’Specially at Christmas. We’d have a place to stay every night.”

  Ransom needed a cool-down. “Nitro needs a good run. I’ll think on it, Eliza. Best I can say right now.” He spurred his horse to go faster, to leave the dangerous web of her lips and eyes.

  “Fine,” Eliza called out as she blew past him. “Catch me if you can.”

  “Oh, lady, you can bet your life I’ll try.” Ransom did his best to keep pace. Nothing he liked better than a chase. She sure was hellfire on a horse. Imagining days—and nights—at her side started to do funny things to him. He wanted her, had no doubt he could fire her up in bed. But that was just a man being a man. More than that, he wanted her to see him as respectable. Like the wind blowing into his ears, the thought flew into his brain.

  He could sure as hell, well, sure as heck, start living righteously by retrieving the horses and returning them to their rightful owner. That activity alone just might start earning his soul back, all the while pleasing Gram-maw’s memory by getting his learning done. Hell, they’d get room and board out of it as well. Heck. And nobody would recognize him. He never transacted the deals.

  Most of all, he could atone for attacking Eliza. He shivered at the horrible memory. But he’d make up for it any way he could. Gram-maw had always kissed his wounds as a kid.

  Firewalker was swift and Eliza a blameless horsewoman, but Nitro got him to her side in a blur.

  “Stop,” he ordered.

  He reckoned she didn’t like obeying anybody or anything, but she reined in quick and looked up at him as he did the same. He’d made up his mind and needed to let her know.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. Her eyebrows rose. “Go with ya, I mean.”

  “Why, Ransom, I wasn’t sure you’d come around. At least not so quick. I sense in you a stubborn streak.” She looked down, shy. “I can’t tell you how much this means.”

  “Don’t need to tell. You can show me.” He dismounted quickly and reached for her to help her down.

  “Show you? What on earth do you mean?”

  Even in the cold afternoon, her warmth struck him like a hot iron as she slid against him to the ground. Deep down, the notch of his trousers twitched hopefully.

  “Kiss me.” He couldn’t help it. He’d die if he didn’t taste those berry lips right now. And he wasn’t one much for asking nicely. She might slap him silly, but at least he’d have an inkling of how the rest of the trip would be, could squash his feelings like a fly right now and make it a pure business venture. But as he reached to hold her close, waiting for that spank, she all but melted against him.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she breathed against his mouth.

  He knew the taste of berry was just a spark away.

  “Didn’t exactly ask,” he muttered against her lips, wondering why no air was reaching his lungs. Even through his thick new coat, her breasts heaved against him with deep breaths, and he gently parted her sweet lips with his tongue. She let him, and for a flash he reckoned she wasn’t new at this. But no matter. Her lips were his for now.

  The sweetness of her tore at his groin, and he deepened the kiss. It was like no other. But suddenly she turned coy and pulled away. She was smiling though, and not at all acting put out.

  “I best get back to town.” Her eyelashes fluttered like a butterfly. “I’ve got the pageant waiting on me. But you ride on. I can find my way.”

  “I’ll be right alongside, Eliza.” He liked the sound of the words on his tongue but liked the lingering taste of her lips even more.

  Chapter Five

  Tears dripped down her beautiful face in such a way Ransom’s heart tugged. They stood together outside the schoolhouse, and proud parents thanked Eliza on their way to the potluck supper at Miss Letha May’s dining room. Something els
e tugged in Ransom’s heart when he watched husbands and wives holding hands, a papa or two strolling strong with his little one atop his shoulders.

  “Darlin’?” The word slipped out without him thinking it through, and the sound of it sent his blood pounding. “Those tears on your face are gonna freeze.” His gloved finger soaked them right up, and he wished he could meet her cheek flesh to flesh. “What’s wrong? Your pageant turned out right fine.”

  Eliza nodded, and her red plaid dress crinkled in the night wind. As she sniffed and smiled up at him in the lantern light, he reckoned her green velvet jacket didn’t warm her enough. Shrugging out of his new wool overcoat, he wrapped her inside it.

  “I know. It was perfect,” she said.

  “Then what’s the matter?” He knew more about the mysteries of a woman’s body than he did her heart or mind but recalled learning they sometimes wept in happiness. “I’m proud as punch over you.”

  “It was Artie Finch’s poem. About missing his granny. How the Christmas Star is really her bright eyes smiling down at him from heaven.” She wrapped her fingers about her face in a sob, and Ransom had no choice but to sling his arm across her shoulders and pull her close. He patted her back like an infant, but his manpart pounded now.

  “Now, now. Thought you read all the poems beforehand.”

  “Oh, I did. And Artie got top marks. But it hit me when I heard his words out loud. Not reading them like a school report. Oh, Ransom, I’ve been at odds with Granny so long.” She gulped. “It isn’t just about finding her horses anymore. It’s about being friends. About her and me getting along. About Christmas peace.”

  He considered her words deep down. “I think I understand. My gram-maw meant the world at one time. Now, let’s go get some supper in you.” He reached for her hand, once again hating his glove.

  “No. I couldn’t eat a thing. I want to leave now, Ransom, get some miles behind us. It isn’t a hard trek to the Southern Star. They’ll put us up for the night. And likely you can get information from their wranglers about other spreads with new horses.”

  Southern Star. Ransom felt heat rise. Rolly Gitts had unloaded a horse there. He recalled the mare right off. Even fixed up to look different, the mare was a beautiful thing. Southern Star folk weren’t likely to part with her. Worse than that, riding off alone in the nighttime with Eliza reckoned to lead him into temptation it might be wiser to avoid.