But there was another notion—a far more dangerous notion—that continued to plague him, and it had to do with the boy standing at his bedside.
He guessed Micah to be around eight, though, granted, judging the age of children was hardly an area he excelled at, given his limited interaction with them. But if his estimation was correct, the possibility existed that the boy could be his. The idea both thrilled and angered him. Even in the short time he’d been here he could see what a great kid he was. Smart and funny and with a charm that sure hadn’t come from Harlan Baxter. Any man would be proud to call him son. But if Micah was his son, it meant Ada had kept the truth from him, turned her back on him and let another man raise his child.
“Are you staying for Christmas?”
Levi pushed the unsettling thoughts away and turned his attention to Micah. “Christmas?”
In the corner of his eye he saw Ada’s back stiffen. Not an encouraging sign.
“It’s a week from today.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever really celebrated Christmas.”
Micah screwed up his face as if he’d never heard anything quite so ridiculous in his short life. “You’ve never celebrated Christmas?”
“Guess I never really had the kind of life that aligned itself well with partaking in that specific holiday.”
“Huh.” For a minute, Micah didn’t say anything. Then he leaned a hip against the bed, his expression serious. “Well, don’t you got a Christmas wish?”
“Have,” Ada said, and Micah sighed in response and shook his head, then smiled at Levi as if they shared an understanding of women in general. He should likely warn Micah now that any understanding of women would be a rare event.
“Can’t say I ever had a Christmas wish. And given I recently came nose to nose with a hungry bear and lived to tell the tale, I figure I’ve about used up all my wishes for one lifetime.”
“That don’t count,” Micah informed him, obviously an expert on the subject of wishes. “That was luck. Wishes are different. Wishes are something you want just because you do and not because you have to.”
“I see. And who do I make this wish to?”
His question received a stupefied look. “St. Nick. You make your wish, then, if you’re really good, he’ll make it come true.”
“Ah.” Well, that’s where the idea fell apart. Levi hadn’t been all that good for a good long time. He’d done things he was ashamed of, things he’d known better than to do.
“So, what’s your wish?” Micah prodded.
Levi’s gaze drifted over to Ada, to her straight back and the easy curve of her hips beneath the homespun skirt she wore. One renegade curl had escaped the knot at her neck and snaked down her back, enticing a long-ago memory of how her blond locks looked cascading over bare skin, the silky feel of them wound around his fingers. He closed his eyes to block out the memory but ended up savoring it instead because he was too much of a fool not to.
“Maybe I do,” he said.
“Think St. Nick will bring it?”
Levi let out a bitter laugh. “I think that might be a bit too much to hope for.”
Micah shrugged and grinned. “Mama says hope can do a whole lotta things, you just gotta believe in it.”
“Did she now?” She’d told him something similar once upon a time when he’d expressed a fear that he didn’t know any other way of life but the one he’d grown up living. He’d hoped that he could be everything she deserved. She’d told him he just had to believe.
She glanced over her shoulder and for a moment their gazes locked and held, and something traveled between them. A memory of that moment, alive and heated and filled with possibility. It took his breath away even after she’d turned around and the embers of hope he’d tried to tamp down earlier flared to life once again.
So he closed his eyes and made his wish, because a man like him didn’t get too many second chances. It seemed a foolish thing to pass on a wish, even if it would take a true Christmas miracle to make it come true.
Chapter Five
“I fed your horse. She’s faring just fine,” Ada said as she stomped the snow from her boots and looked up in time to see Levi out of bed and walking toward her on bare feet, shirt opened to reveal his bandaged ribs and bare abdomen. “What are you doing?”
He smiled at her as he reached down and took the split wood from her with his good arm. “Helping.”
“I don’t need your help.” She hated how much she sounded like a petulant child.
“Didn’t say you needed it.” Levi crossed the room to the fireplace and dumped the wood in the empty bin, his lips tightening in a wince. “Just offerin’ it.”
“You need to rest. I don’t want you pulling your stitches.”
He turned and the muscles in his stomach shifted with the movement. She quickly shifted her gaze, but instead of away, it dipped lower, beyond the waistband of his worn denims, before quickly skittering away.
“Did you just look—”
“No!” Heat rushed up her neck and face until the roots of her hair tingled. “Most certainly not.”
He approached her, fluid as a cat stalking a mouse. Though she doubted any cat could duplicate the playfulness that danced about Levi’s sharp blue eyes and pulled at the corners of his mouth, reminding her of a time when laughter had come easily and often.
How long had it been since she’d experienced that? Since someone had teased her? Lightened her load? Harlan had never been the type for any of those things. She had missed them sorely, but she couldn’t give in to them now. In a matter of days Levi would leave for Salvation Falls, for a new life. She refused to be pulled in by his easy charm and teasing manner. By his smiles that made his eyes dance and her body spark the way it did now as he loomed over her, leaving her staring at the edge of the bandage where it crossed just below his chest. Her fingers itched to reach up and touch it. Touch him.
She swallowed.
He moved closer and the warm tenor of his voice whispered around her. “If there’s somethin’ you wanted to see, I’d be happy to—”
She reached out and her hand landed square in the center of his chest to stop his approach and her wayward thoughts. The warmth of him spread up her arm, doing little to corral her growing desire. She took a deep breath. Even the air smelled of him, that intoxicating scent that had always reminded her of wood fires and fresh air.
“I don’t want to see anything, thank you.” Except that she did. Desperately. The effect this man had on her even after all this time was nothing short of sinful.
She’d avoided Levi as much as possible over the past several days, a near impossible task given their close proximity in the small cabin. His presence lingered in every corner until she’d had to escape to the outdoors, and even then reminders of him surrounded her. His mare chomping on oats and Bruce bounding about in the snowdrifts with Micah, laughter trailing wherever he went. The sound a constant reminder of all the things that had recently been in short supply.
She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t escape him. In the short time he’d been here, he’d infiltrated every nook and cranny of her life, wormed his way back in until she found herself craving the sound of his voice, wishing for the feel of his hands upon her skin, the weight of his body covering hers, limbs and hearts entangled. The way it used to be. The way it should have been.
This was dangerous thinking. She couldn’t let him draw her in. His charm and good looks had not diminished over the years despite his having spent them in prison. Granted, there were a few more lines, sharper angles, lean muscle over bones—
Levi’s hand covered hers, holding it against his warm skin. “You’re blushing.”
She turned her head and stared at the wall over his shoulder, refusing to give in to the strange intimacy binding them together. “I am not.”
“Liar.” The smile in his voice made her insides swoop and dip and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes because a part of her wanted it so badly—wanted him. Want
ed that feeling of lightness and hope his voice promised, as if something good waited just on the horizon and all she had to do was reach for it. But she had reached for it. Once upon a time she had thrown her whole heart at it. And it had dissolved, slipping through her fingers.
She yanked her hand away. He let it go but her legs refused to create a safer distance, the pull between them too strong to break and her will too weak to try. Levi reached into the pocket of his denims and pulled something out, holding it in the palm of his hand between them. She looked down. It was a piece of wood with the first hints of an animal carved into it. A bear.
“Figured since I had some time on my hands, I’d make Micah something for Christmas. It isn’t much, but—” He shrugged.
“Oh—” Something in Ada’s heart tore and the pain of it caught in her throat.
“What is it?” His fingers lifted her chin and dark eyebrows dipped before his expression was replaced by a teasing smile. His thumb brushed a gentle caress against the edge of her jaw. “Did you want one, too?”
She pulled away from his touch, wanting too much to lean into it, hating her weakness. “No, of course not.”
“Then what? You think he won’t like it? I was going to put Bruce down here.” He pointed to a chunk of uncarved wood near where the bear’s feet would go.
A modern-day version of David and Goliath, one of Micah’s favorite stories. “He’ll love it.”
And he would. He looked to Levi as one of those daring adventurers from the dime novels he devoured, concocting a fantasy in his head about the unjustly imprisoned outlaw with a heart of gold. A good man who’d made bad choices, changed his ways and sought redemption.
She could hardly fault him. Hadn’t she done the same thing? Filled her head with any number of justifications to appease her conscience when she had thrown over staid and steady Harlan Baxter for the far handsomer and charismatic cowboy who rode into town one day and swept her off her feet, promising her the moon and stars?
“But you don’t want me to give it to him. Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
She forced herself to turn away and walked to the shelves above the kitchen surface. She needed space, room to escape the tension coiling inside of her, time to clear away the memories that threatened to tangle her up in their roots. She stood on her tiptoes and reached for the plates, but he’d moved behind her and reached beyond her, his height making it easy for him. His chest brushed against her back and she closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the wood, unable to do anything but stand there and absorb the sensation until he stepped away and set the plates down next to her.
He crossed his arms over his chest, winced and thought better of it, leaning his weight against the cupboards instead. “What are they? These reasons.”
Ada opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then she pursed her lips to trap the truth behind them.
He arched one dark eyebrow. “Just so we’re clear, I’m going to stand here until you tell me.”
“Then I will go over there.” She nodded to the sofa.
“And I will follow.”
Oh, his stubborn hide! She’d forgotten about that part of him. “You can’t arrive here out of the blue and demand answers that are none of your business.”
He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Fair enough. Then tell me this—how old is Micah?”
Fear gripped her hard, digging its sharp talons deep into her heart, the pain so deep she couldn’t speak. But it wasn’t enough to stop the frightening possibilities from running roughshod through her mind. Did he suspect? Had he taken one look at Micah and known? And if he did, what were his plans? Would he take her son away?
For years, Harlan had threatened her with that same scenario, holding the possibility over her head in order to keep her in line. He hadn’t wanted Micah, but he had wanted to punish her for her defection, her betrayal. Would Levi do the same?
“He’s seven,” she said, adding one more lie to the pile. She forced her gaze to remain steady, hating herself as she willed him to believe her. “Why?”
“No reason. Just wondered.”
She caught a flash of disappointment in Levi’s blue eyes, and the realization that he’d suspected the truth carved another series of scars across her heart. He took a few steps away and looked around the cabin, though what he searched for she couldn’t say. She opened her mouth, the truth on the tip of her tongue, but when he turned back to her, she closed it, swallowed it back, unable to trust him. Afraid to trust him. She had seen what the anger of betrayal could make a man do.
Levi shrugged, the broad width of his shoulders shifting beneath the too-large shirt he wore. “I don’t have to give him the toy. I just thought...” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought.”
But she did. Guilt polluted her veins, bringing with it a heavy dose of anger at how things might have been if their hopes and dreams hadn’t been dashed and broken by the whims of fate. How different would their lives have been if they’d left town before the robbery had occurred? If she had told him the truth that day in the jailhouse instead of turning away from him? But the time for those questions had come and gone, the answers lost to the years that lay between the past and present.
“I just don’t want—” She stopped. What? What didn’t she want? She didn’t want to fall again. Because it would be so easy. With each passing minute she spent with him, she could feel it happening all over again and she was helpless to stop it. And then what? Levi would leave; he’d go on with his life and the freedom he’d long been denied. And she would be left behind to wear the pain of his absence just as she had before. And so would Micah.
“What don’t you want?” He turned and walked back to where she stood, filling her vision and lighting a fire beneath her skin that warmed her from the inside out.
“I don’t want Micah to grow attached to you. I don’t want him to think you’re going to stay only to be left heartbroken when you leave.”
“Sounds like you have some familiarity with that kind of thing.” He came closer, his voice dropping until it thrummed through her. “Which is funny, don’t you think?”
She pressed her back into the edge of the counter, trapped by his words and his closeness. “How is that funny?”
“Because it wasn’t me that did the leaving last time, was it?” His hand lifted and the tip of his finger traced the outline of her lower lip until she trembled. “That was you.”
She closed her eyes and let the thrill of his touch and the painful truth of his words flow through her. She had been the one who had walked away. She’d had no other choice. None. And despite all the what-ifs that danced around her brain, if faced with the same situation all over again, she wouldn’t do it any differently. Because it hadn’t been about her. And it hadn’t been about him.
She had done it all for the child growing in her belly.
His hand dropped away and he leaned in, one hand on either side of her, trapping her, enveloping her.
He leaned in closer until his breath brushed against her like a kiss. “Tell me what you really want.”
She screwed her eyes even more tightly shut. She ached for his touch, every part of her pulling toward him as much as her head screamed for her to move. To leave. To get out of harm’s way. To swallow back the answer to his question that rested on the tip of her tongue like a sour candy. Sweet and bitter.
She wanted him.
She wanted to go back in time and undo all that had been done. She wanted to leave Glennis Creek and the ugliness of their past behind and start anew somewhere else. She wanted a chance to live the life he’d promised her.
But she couldn’t have any of those things. The secret she carried and the lies she was forced to tell made sure of that.
“I want you to get better and leave.”
What other choice did she have?
* * *
Perhaps Levi should have taken the hint, packed up his saddlebags and ridden out that night, but he’d never been the
type to give up easily. She had wanted him. He was certain of it. He could feel the connection they’d had all those years ago pulling them closer with each passing day. It wasn’t just him. It wasn’t his imagination.
That Mother Nature brought howling winds the following day only solidified his decision to wait things out. To stay and see if he could break through the barrier she’d erected between them and discover the reason behind it. There had to be one, though what it could be left him stumped. Did she resent him for being sent to prison? Did she think he didn’t love her? That he hadn’t suffered every day for the past eight years knowing she had married another man? Or was it guilt, because she had been the one to turn away? That seeing him now made her face the fact that she had gone on with her life while his had been taken from him?
He shook his head as he stared out the window. The woman had locked her thoughts up tight and hidden the key. But he’d find it. Come hell or high water, he’d figure out what was going on in that head of hers. He had a Christmas wish riding on it, after all.
“Can you see where the drift ends?” Levi glanced down his shoulder to where Micah bounced on the sofa next to him as they surveyed the winter wonderland beyond the glass. The clouds had cleared and the bright sun beating down on the pristine snow made it difficult to discern the peaks from the valleys.
“It ain’t too bad. I seen worse.” The kid sounded like a seasoned veteran and Levi didn’t wonder that it was lonely for him up here with no one his own age to play with.
He’d experienced a similar kind of childhood. Pa and his gang had never stayed anywhere for too long, dragging him wherever they went. If they hadn’t had old Doc Redding with them for most of his youth, likely Levi would never have learned how to read or write or do his numbers. But while the other men were drinking or carousing, the old man had ensured that Levi was learning those things. Doc had instilled in him the hope that a different kind of life might be out there. A regular life with a home and a family.
Dreaming of a Western Christmas: His Christmas BelleThe Cowboy of Christmas PastSnowbound with the Cowboy Page 14
