Mountain Christmas Brides

by Mildred Colvin

The livery stable down the street seemed her only hope, and she headed toward it, wading through the deep snow. It came in over her boot tops almost at once and sent shudders up her spine, but she forced her way onward through the unbroken whiteness. A few flakes still fell, but surely they would stop soon.

  Inside the stable was dim, and the warmer air smelled of hay, manure, and horses. Two men conversed at the far end of the building while one of them saddled a horse, and Patricia walked toward them.

  “Help you, miss?” The older man turned toward her and left the other to finish his job.

  The one who spoke must be Peakes, the stable’s owner. Patricia walked toward him and put on the most confident smile she could muster. “Yes, I wondered if you had a sleigh and a driver available today. I need to get to my—”

  “Nope.”

  She caught her breath. “It’s very important, sir.”

  “Still nope.”

  “Mr. Peakes, I must get home today. It’s only ten miles, and—” She shot a glance toward the other man and stared in disbelief. It was dim inside the stable, but still … Could it be?

  “Jared? Jared Booker?”

  The younger man turned toward her, and her heart pounded. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and her stomach turned handsprings. She couldn’t be mistaken, even in the poor light. His straight nose, his gentle brown eyes, the quirk at the corner of his mouth.

  He studied her, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. “Patricia Logan?”

  She laughed and hurried forward to grasp his hand. “Jared! Yes, it’s me. And you used to call me Trisha.”

  She looked him over and shook her head. He had changed, gaining maturity, of course, and his form had a new solidity. His shoulders had broadened, and he was taller, too. Of course, he’d been only fifteen years old the last time she saw him. He looked wonderful, better even than her girlish memories of him.

  She scowled at him. “Why didn’t you write to me?”

  Jared stared down at her and slowly began to smile. “I can’t believe it! What are you doing so far from home in this weather?”

  “I’ve been to a party in Denver. My old school friend Thalia Bloom threw an early Christmas celebration, and when I left last night, the storm was at its peak. The train barely made it this far. All the passengers had to stop here last night at the Ryders’ boardinghouse.”

  “Imagine our meeting like this. I take it you didn’t intend to stay in town last night?”

  “No, Mr. Ryder had said he would drive me home, but the storm prevented that. Now he can’t get his car out in the deep snow. He may not run it again until spring. So I came here to see if I could find some other mode of transportation to the ranch. I didn’t see you at Ryders’, though. Where did you stay last night?”

  “I bunked here at the stable with Mr. Peakes. As a matter of fact, I was heading out for your uncle’s place this morning.”

  She grabbed his arm and squelched a scream of joy. “That’s perfect! Take me with you!”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’ll be hard riding. Do you have a horse?”

  “No, and Mr. Ryder seemed to think the snow is too deep even for sleighs.”

  “That’s true,” Peakes said. “Can’t send a team out in these drifts. They wouldn’t get to the edge of town.”

  “Please, Jared?”

  He opened his mouth then closed it.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Jared looked uneasily toward the stable owner. “No offense, Trisha, but I’m not sure I’d want to be responsible for you. They say there may be more snow before the day’s out.”

  She gulped down the lump forming in her throat. No matter what, she would not let Jared ride out of her life again so easily. “Perhaps we could go down the street to Ryders’ and get a cup of tea, and you could tell me—”

  “No time. The traveling’s not good, and I want to get to the ranch before it gets worse.”

  “Oh, please don’t leave me here! I need to get home.”

  Jared looked toward Peakes, as if hoping to be rescued from a snare, but the liveryman just spit toward a pile of manure and looked away.

  “Mr. Peakes, do you have a horse she can rent?” Jared asked.

  “Afraid not, in this deep snow. I gave you my opinion. You ought to wait here until the weather breaks. Likely your nags will get in a deep drift and flounder around ‘til they exhaust themselves.”

  Jared sighed. “So you won’t rent Miss Logan a mount?”

  Peakes shook his head. “If you did get through all right, I wouldn’t get him back till who knows when. Now, if you want to buy a horse—”

  Patricia said hastily, “No. I’m sorry, I don’t have the funds for that.”

  Jared pushed his hat back and scratched his head. “I need to hit the trail, Trisha. I’m sorry about your predicament, but maybe your uncle can send someone down for you tomorrow.”

  “Please, Jared!” She clutched his sleeve, unwilling to let him ride off alone. “There must be a way.”

  Again he looked down at her, and Patricia felt the strange, unsettled feeling she’d had when she recognized him. For hundreds of lonely evenings at the boarding school she had told herself that eventually she would hear from him and see him again. Uncle Bill and Aunt Edna would welcome him home. Thoughts of Jared had grown into dreams of a future together. She had allowed herself for a long time to dream of winning Jared’s heart. In those reveries, he rode back into her life a beloved hero. They bought a ranch of their own and raised superior horses, and they were supremely happy. Obviously, those fantasies were far from the truth. He was heading toward the Logan ranch but not to see her.

  Jared cleared his throat and looked at Peakes. “This one was my shadow when my father and her uncle ran the ranch together.”

  “I take it that was some time ago.”

  “Oh yes, she was just a half-grown tomboy. Wanted to be a cowpoke.”

  The livery owner smiled, and Patricia knew her face was beet red now.

  “Well, I’ve grown up, Jared. I promise I won’t be any trouble to you if you’ll take me along.”

  “I don’t see a way to do that, Trisha. I need to get moving.”

  “But … we haven’t even had a chance to get reacquainted.” She looked to Peakes for support. “Jared’s father and my uncle were old army buddies, back in the eighties. They were stationed together at Fort Garland, and when they mustered out, they bought a ranch as partners.”

  Peakes nodded. “I heared your uncle tell about the old days.”

  She felt some encouragement and raced on. “Yes, well, Uncle Bill and Rupert Booker had a bit of a falling out ten years ago. Rupert moved his family to Texas, and Jared and I haven’t seen each other since.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Jared murmured. He moved toward the back of the barn, but instead of untying the horse he had saddled, he opened another stall door.

  Peakes’s eyes glittered, and for the first time he showed some enthusiasm for the conversation. “He’s got some fine horses, Miss Logan. Now, Booker, if you ever want to sell one—”

  “I’ll let you know.” Jared entered the stall and emerged leading a magnificent, coal black stallion. The young horse snorted and lifted his feet extra high as he pranced beside Jared.

  Patricia stared at the black’s fine head, the sculpted ears and bright eyes. His deep chest rippled as Jared led him toward the paint gelding and untied the saddled horse from the ring in the wall.

  “He’s beautiful!”

  “Easy, now.” Jared stroked the colt’s neck, and the black nickered and snuffled his coat collar.

  Patricia’s heart leaped. “How old is he?”

  Jared frowned. “I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  She clamped her lips together to keep from arguing, but she couldn’t help clenching her gloved hands into fists and giving a tiny stamp on the straw-strewn dirt floor.

  Jared and Mr. Peakes laug
hed, and once more she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, this time from shame at her childish frustration. If she wanted Jared to believe she had grown up, this was no way to show it.

  Jared led his two horses toward the door, and when he was close to her, he stopped and smiled at her.

  “Listen, any other time, I wouldn’t mind taking you. In fact, I’d enjoy the company. It’s really good to see you again.”

  Patricia felt her insides thawing in the warmth of his wistful smile.

  “But with this snow, I can’t risk it. This stallion is only three years old. He’s barely saddle broke, and besides, he doesn’t belong to me. I couldn’t let you ride him.”

  “But you could ride him.” Immediately she knew she should have kept quiet.

  Jared’s smile faded.

  “No, Trisha. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 2

  Jared led his paint horse, Patches, toward the big stable door. The colt followed a few steps behind, as much following the gelding as he was responding to Jared’s gentle tug on the lead line.

  Trisha scrambled around to walk beside him.

  “Aunt Edna is expecting a baby anytime now, Jared. I’d hate not to be there when she needs me.”

  “Aunt Edna?” Jared had no idea what she was talking about. Peakes eased past Patches and slid the big door open.

  “That’s right, you don’t know. Uncle Bill got married at last!”

  “Not really!” Jared couldn’t help smiling. He remembered Bill Logan as a gruff old bachelor. Getting married was about the last thing he’d expect of Bill.

  “Yes. Three years ago, almost. And Edna is as sweet as they come. But she’s thirty-eight, and this is her first baby. The midwife woman said sometimes older women have a … a difficult time.” Patricia’s cheeks went scarlet, and she avoided looking toward Mr. Peakes, concentrating instead on Jared. “If I don’t get out of here now, I may be stuck in this place for a week or more! Jared, please. I’m begging. It’s very important that I get home.”

  Jared felt himself wavering. He looked out into the stable yard. It wasn’t snowing at the moment, but the gray clouds still threatened more. Ten miles to the Logan ranch. They could do it in an hour in summer. But this time of year?

  “This stud colt is really green, Trisha.”

  “But you’re such a good rider.”

  He sucked in a breath, trying not to laugh. She’d always had a way of wrapping him—and Uncle Bill and all the ranch hands, for that matter—around her little finger. “Have you kept up your riding since I last saw you?”

  Patricia lowered her lashes and eyed him cautiously. “Of course! I ride all over the ranch with Uncle Bill and Joe Simmons. You remember Joe?”

  “Sure I do. He was always good to me when we lived at the ranch.”

  “Well, he’s still an old softie. Takes me on rambles. And I’m a good rider. You know I am!”

  Jared sighed. She was always persistent. Stubborn, her uncle Bill called it. “I suppose if I showed up alone and they found out I’d seen you here and left you stranded, it wouldn’t set well with your folks.”

  Patricia’s heart leapt. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Jared!”

  “But I can’t let you ride the colt,” he said quickly.

  “That’s fine. The paint looks steady.”

  Jared looked down into her vivid blue eyes—still as bright and lively as he remembered. He gave himself a mental kick. He had to be crazy to tell her he’d take her with him. But her face was so eager. How many nights had he dreamed of those china-blue eyes?

  “All right, little girl, I guess I have no choice.”

  “You won’t regret it!”

  He sensed a new layer of reserve behind her enthusiasm. In the old days, he reflected, she would have launched herself at him and hugged him ferociously. The years of separation had changed things, but they both remembered how close they had been. Those memories tipped his hand.

  Jared looked over at Peakes. “I don’t suppose you can let us borrow a saddle?”

  Peakes closed the barn door. “Guess I can let you take one. I’ve got an old cavalry-issue rig.”

  Jared winced. “All right, if that’s the best you can do.”

  “Can’t let you take one of my good saddles. You got a bridle for him?”

  “Yeah.” Jared handed Patches’s reins to Trisha and tied the young stallion to an iron ring in the barn wall. “Easy, Chief.” He took the extra bridle from Patches’s saddlebags and slipped it over the colt’s face. Chief took the jointed bit easily—something Jared was proud of. He had trained all of his father’s colts to let their trainers handle them easily and safely.

  “You got your stuff?” he asked Trisha.

  “I left it at the Ryders’.”

  “Well, get on over there and get it. You’ve got ten minutes. If you aren’t back, I’m leaving.” He tried to scowl at her, but she laughed at him, handed over Patches’s reins, and opened the big door just enough so she could squeeze through. As soon as she’d left, he regretted sending her for her luggage. He should have told her to leave it and let her pick it up later. He dropped Patches’s reins. The gelding wouldn’t go one step until Jared told him to.

  Peakes brought the saddle and a worn blanket. Jared eyed it for a moment and took the military gear with distaste. Next to no padding in those old things. He knew he would be uncomfortable all day.

  “You want me to pay you for this miserable thing?”

  Peakes waved his hand. “I’ll trust you or Bill Logan to get it back to me sometime.”

  Jared folded the blanket and smoothed it over Chief’s withers. He slung the saddle onto the young stallion’s back.

  “You’re asking for trouble, you know,” Peakes said.

  Jared grunted and tightened the cinch.

  “Shoulda told that gal to wait here.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Jared tried not to remember how close he and Trisha had been ten or twelve years ago. She was always a bit bossy, and he wasn’t above giving in to her to keep peace when they played together. He suspected her uncle did the same thing. So she was a little spoiled. She had also become a beautiful woman. He tugged on the leather strap. The saddle would stay on Chief. Too bad he’d gotten so fond of Trisha when he was a boy. By the time he and his father moved away, when Jared was fifteen, he was even dreaming of marrying her one day.

  “I never knew why Logan ended up raising that girl,” Peakes said, sticking the end of a straw in his mouth.

  “Her parents died when she was five. Her pa was Bill’s brother. Someone shipped her out here to the ranch after her folks died. My pa and Bill were working the ranch together then. I was seven.” Jared shook his head. “I recall when she came, I couldn’t decide if I was glad to have a playmate or mad that someone else started getting all the attention.”

  “So you two grew up like brother and sister?”

  “More or less.”

  Peakes shook his head. “Making a mistake, that’s what I say.”

  Jared was surprised how quickly Trisha returned with her bag. He rolled the door open and led the horses outside. Her face glowed with the effort of hauling her bag, and Jared caught his breath. In all his dreams, she’d never grown to be this beautiful. Good thing he hadn’t been around her lately. She probably had dozens of young men swarming about. The funny feeling in his stomach told him he would have been jealous if he’d seen it. He took her bag and tied it securely to the back of Patches’s saddle.

  “You ready?”

  “Sure am.”

  She smiled up at him, and his heart beat a strange, quick rhythm. What would Bill Logan do to him if anything happened to her? Too late to think about that now.

  She swung into the saddle without waiting for assistance. Her skirt billowed for a moment in the wind. Patches stood rock still for her, but Chief pulled at his reins and snorted. Jared turned to speak to him, calming him down. He hadn’t thought about Patricia riding in a skirt. She used to tear around the
ranch in dungarees, but he supposed she didn’t wear them anymore, now that she was a lady. He mounted Chief, and the colt pranced a little.

  “Easy, now.” Jared patted the horse’s neck. He lifted a hand to Peakes. The stable owner waved back and shut the big door. “Will you be warm enough?” he asked Trisha.

  “I’m fine.” She smoothed her skirt and tucked it in here and there. “I’ll follow you.”

  Jared nodded and turned Chief toward the ranch.

  The snow began to fall again lightly as they trotted out of the stable yard. Someone had gotten out and rolled a short section of the street, but as soon as they hit the end of it and got into the loose snow, the horses slowed to a walk. The young stallion whickered and tossed his head. He had almost no experience in snow. If he didn’t settle down, he’d quickly wear himself out.

  Jared looked back at Trisha. He ought to insist they give up and go back to the stable. She smiled and waved, her eyes bright.

  “I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” she called.

  Jared turned forward and concentrated on finding the best path for Chief.

  They followed the contour of the road, although Patricia couldn’t tell where the road ended and the prairie began. Jared seemed to observe every tree and house closely and to have an innate sense of where to guide the horse.

  After they got out onto a flat stretch, the going was easier, though snow was falling again. The wind had blown all night, and in places the snow was only a few inches deep. Patricia realized that the snow must have drifted into hollows and piled up much deeper in other spots.

  She urged Patches up alongside the black colt, and he responded to her eagerly. The young stallion gave a whicker from deep in his throat and eyed Patches, his ears twitching.

  Patricia laughed. “He’s absolutely gorgeous, Jared. And he’s behaving very well.”

  “I hate to push him hard.” Jared shifted in the saddle and stroked the colt’s neck. “His mother was a thoroughbred.”

  “He’s got the long lines. I’ll bet he’s fast.”

  He didn’t answer but frowned up at the gray ceiling of clouds above them. “I think the snow’s getting heavier.”

  “We’ll just take it slow. We’ve got all day.” She smiled at him, but Jared’s worried expression didn’t lighten. “I’m so glad we met up this morning.”