“Trent! You hold on a minute.”
He froze and then turned. She motioned him over.
He pointed to his coat. “I got Addy.”
“She’ll keep.” Kelly waited. He turned and descended the steps, crossed the little alley between their houses and stood like Romeo beneath her porch.
“How you getting on with Mrs. Guntherson?”
He made a face.
“Why? Ain’t she good with your gal?”
Trent sighed. “Addy loves her. But she can’t cook worth a damn.”
“She’ll learn.”
“Yesterday, she set breakfast on fire. Dinner, I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“Why don’t you fire her then?”
Trent felt as though someone had kicked him. Just thinking about her leaving made him grind his teeth.
“Ah, why don’t you paint it like it is?”
He scowled up at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Kelly’s smile needled him. “Don’t you? You’ve avoided every pretty gal from here to Butte, but you can’t avoid this one. You kissed her yet?”
“Almost.”
Her smile broadened.
Damn, how did the woman do it? She always managed to wheedle information out of him. Lord, he ought to hire her as a deputy. Men round here wouldn’t stand a chance under her questioning.
“How’d you know?” he asked
“You’re a man, aren’t cha?”
“She works for me. I can’t go around kissing her.”
“If you say so. But, if you don’t, someone else will. And that girl needs kissing. And don’t ask her first. Young women, proper ones like she is, they’ll always say no if you ask. Pay no attention. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I say.”
“What if she doesn’t want me to kiss her?”
“Oh, she’ll let you know. Now get that child inside. Hear? And don’t scowl so much. You’ll frighten her to death.”
Trent stood in dumbfounded silence as Kelly Milward sauntered into her home.
Chapter Ten
Eliza woke the next morning to the maid’s familiar knock. Apparently, the real Mrs. Guntherson had still not arrived. Delayed, the deputy had said. How many days would it be until she was caught in her own web?
On the walk to the Foerster’s, she weighed the deputy’s advice against her new knowledge of how badly Trent had been hurt by the lies of Addy’s mother. Finally, she decided it would be better to tell him, if only so he didn’t find out some other way first. Her plan to speak with him privately upon arrival was foiled by Mr. Foerster himself, who did not even wait for her to take her coat off before heading out the door.
“You ever cut down a Christmas tree?” he asked from the porch.
She felt deeply inadequate and could only lower her chin.
“No, Mr. Foerster.”
He pressed his lips tight. What was he thinking? “I guess you’re not too old to learn. And call me Trent.”
“Yes, Mr…. Trent.”
His smile dazzled her. He turned and charged down the steps, calling back to her. “Have Addy fed and ready when I get home.”
Addy’s excitement was infectious. Truth be told, Eliza had never been on an outing for a Christmas tree and were she not still anchored by guilt, she would likely be bouncing up and down, as well. Instead, she fed Addy and bundled her into her bright green wool coat and red-and-green scarf. The mittens matched, but were too small to cover her wrists. Eliza wondered if her grandmother had knitted them for her.
Addy spent the next several minutes hopping up and down before the double-pane window, searching for some sign of her father.
The sound of sleigh bells reached them first. Addy rushed out, leaving Eliza to close the door behind them. From the steps she could see Trent, smiling brightly as he steered the fine bay trotter to a halt before them. The sticky snow clung to the bottom of the sleigh and the sun had already warmed the air so it did not bite at her nose and fingers.
“Daddy!”
Addy scrambled up and under the lap quilt beside her father, leaving Eliza to climb up next to her.
“There’s my girls,” he said as naturally as sunshine, and gave Eliza a wink that quite took her breath away.
The offhanded comment warmed her and gave her a secret thrill of delight. For just a moment, she could pretend that it was true, that they were a family and that she was really and truly his.
He tucked the quilt about them, his hand brushing her hip. He hesitated. Their eyes met, and his humor vanished as he waited for her to speak.
“I apologize for being forward last night.”
He was apologizing to her? She should be apologizing. “Please don’t.”
“We’ll start again?”
She nodded.
“’Cause I’d hate to do anything to run you off.”
Really? He liked having her here? Her heart thudded and her face felt warm as a sunny day in May.
“Daddy, let’s go!”
Trent straightened and smiled, his boyish charm startling her for it was a side of him she’d never seen.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and gave his daughter’s chin a gentle tug.
Her giggle turned to a shriek of delight as Trent lifted the reins and set them in motion.
The sleigh sped along, gliding on the ice as the horse’s hooves kicked up small saucer-sized discs of snow. It was like flying.
The silver bells on the sleigh jangled merrily with the fine high-stepping gait of the trotter.
Eliza gleefully gripped Addy’s hand, glad for the moment they were all together. Christmas was a little over a week away. Would she be with them then? Oh, she hoped so, but first she must face her worst fears. She was surprised to realize that the worst now meant losing them. She feared that more than capture or even prison.
Tendrils of dread coiled within her.
Trent was honest, kind and tough. Was he also merciful and forgiving? He’d been ill-used and she knew she must prepare herself for failure.
The town receded behind them, opening into an expanse of frozen earth that ran along the valley. Beautiful, lush evergreens lined the road, but Trent never slowed.
“There’s a good one, Daddy!”
Obviously, Addy had similar thoughts.
Trent chuckled. “But those are not on public land. It’s not much farther.”
After another half mile, he drew the horse to the side of the road, which now consisted of the twin marks from the runners and the well-worn path left by the horses that had passed before them.
Trent jumped down, carrying the reins along and looping them around the trunk of a sturdy pine, far too tall for their purposes. Addy scrambled after him and immediately found the snow reached up over her thighs. She did not stop, however, but waded in gamely, prepared to follow wherever he might lead.
Eliza knew exactly how she felt. How had she allowed herself to become so tangled up in their lives in so short a time? It seemed she had known them forever and that she had finally found a place where she belonged.
“Whoa, there, sweet pea. I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”
A moment later Trent had scooped his child up onto his shoulder. He returned to escort Eliza down. His gloved hand was sure and steady.
She caught him glancing at her ankle as she stepped onto the earth. He lifted his gaze and gave a boyish shrug and a smile that charmed and disarmed. Her heart was racing now and she had only taken the first step.
He released her to retrieve a fine, sharp ax he had tucked safely beneath the seat.
“Stay behind me so I can break a trail.”
She did, wishing that they could keep on this way forever. She waded through the fine field of white that shone like polished silver. Eliza breathed in the crisp, clean air and smelled the scent of pine.
Addy turned back to grin at her from her perch upon her father’s shoulder and then turned back to the path ahead. Trent broke the unmarred snow, cutting a direct pat
h to the woods.
When he stopped, he caught her unaware and she ran right into his back. He didn’t move an inch, but turned to grace her with another smile.
“Look here.” He pointed. “Fox tracks.”
And there they were. Eliza puzzled over the several deep holes in the snow.
“What made those?” she asked.
“The same fox. They listen for mice and voles under the snow and then dive right in and catch them.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
She stared back in astonishment at the cleverness of the fox and the depth of knowledge of her companion.
“One of nature’s miracles,” she said.
They were off again, pausing to admire rabbit tracks and the delicate brushstroke of the wings of a grouse. The empty plain was not the tranquil scene it appeared, but alive with its inhabitants all revealed to her by Trent’s narrative.
Once they reached the wooded area the snow was not so deep, and Addy dashed about searching for the perfect tree.
“Too big,” said her father for the fourth time.
Addy dashed off again, remaining in sight, her bright green coat and colorful scarf flashing between the tree trunks.
Trent hooked his axe in the limb of a pine tree and stared at Eliza.
“You seem quiet.”
She smiled. “Oh, I am just out of my element.”
“Your first?” His smile faded. “But you’ve had a tree in your home before?”
She felt deeply inadequate and could only lower her chin.
“Not in my parents’ home, and the school wouldn’t allow it for safety reasons. My employer had a feather tree. They are quite the rage, you know.”
“Never had a tree.” He frowned now and Eliza realized she had made him feel sorry for her.
“But I’m sure I’ll be able to decorate it. I’ve seen pictures and paintings of tannenbaums. Do you use candles?”
He nodded. A moment later he had clasped her hands and drew her forward.
“Eliza, I want this to be your Christmas, too. You’re a part of the family now.”
She felt her face heat. He was being polite, kind even. But she knew very well that an employee is not and never would be a true part of any family. She’d reconciled to that long ago. She, however, was not even a real employee. And she did not deserve to be included in this family until he knew it all.
“That is very generous of you to say,” she began. “But—”
“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.” He touched her chin, lifting it until her eyes met his. “I don’t know how you did it, but Addy has never been so taken with anyone.”
This was about his daughter then, not his feelings. How had it happened so quickly? How had she fallen in love with him in so short a course of days?
Tell him now. Tell him what you’ve done.
She looked into his eyes and saw everything she ever wanted shining back. His skin was rosy from the cold and his warm breath condensed into a vapor when he exhaled.
“Truth be told, it’s not only Addy who’s taken. I am, too.”
Her breathing stopped. What was he saying?
“I only wanted someone to look after Addy. But now I want so much more.”
Eliza lost her tongue completely and could only stare in mute astonishment. She’d already waited too long.
“I have something to tell you,” she blurted.
“After I kiss you.”
Chapter Eleven
Trent wanted this woman in every way a man wants a mate. He hadn’t been looking; fact was he’d been licking his wounds for five years. But no longer. He was prepared to make her his, just as soon as she’d allow it. This time was different—had to be.
He held Viola’s face firm in his two hands as his mouth slanted over hers. Her lips yielded and she gave a little gasp. Had he shocked her?
He hoped so.
Trent encircled her, cradling her head and holding her for his sensual assault. His tongue slid along the crease of her full lips and she opened her mouth. Her tongue emerged to duel with his, tentatively at first, and then with an abandon that thrilled and excited him.
Lord, she was sweet. How fortunate for him that Mr. Guntherson had departed this life and left Viola here—for him.
She drew back and he allowed it, but did not permit her to go far. He wasn’t done kissing her yet, never would be done.
“Mr. Foerster, this isn’t proper. People will talk.”
“Let them.” He realized with astonishment that it was true. He didn’t care what the good people of Early thought. He’d have Viola if she’d have him.
“Mr. Foerster, please.”
He felt the first inkling of worry. She had her arms braced on his chest now. “I have to tell you something.”
“So do I. I want to court you, Viola.”
Her brows lifted high. “But you hardly know me.”
“And I’m looking forward to discovering every detail, each secret and every habit. But for now, you’re going to kiss me again.”
He reeled her in, her resistance easily broken. She was sweet as a sugar cookie and fresh as a new day. He wasn’t gentle this time, taking her mouth as he pressed her full against him.
Without any warning he could detect, she turned her head and leaned away, refusing him in the only way he’d left open to her.
The way she kissed him, that was not the kiss of a reluctant woman. But neither was it the kiss of an experienced one. Something didn’t fit here.
“Viola? What is it?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m…I’m…not…”
Good God, Mr. Guntherson was dead, wasn’t he? They weren’t just separated. He let her go and she stumbled.
From somewhere to his left he heard Addy shriek. Viola’s eyes widened and she ran in the direction of his daughter.
“Daddy!” came the panicked cry.
Trent grabbed the axe and followed, unbuttoning his coat as he went, so he could reach his gun. It took an instant to realize Viola was several feet in front of him, running like a deer, her skirts hitched up to her thigh and snow flying out behind her.
He saw a flash of green wool and then Addy came into sight. He stopped, relief flooding through him, blending with the fear. His heart still pounded, but he found himself chuckling.
“What happened?” he asked, trying very hard to keep from laughing.
Addy was not smiling, for she had somehow managed to catch the back of her coat on a broken tree branch and now hung like a rag doll on a clothes hook.
“Daddy! I’m stuck!” Her voice held irritation, because despite his efforts, Addy had caught him smiling.
Viola was doing her best to reach his girl, but Addy dangled above her grasp and her charming hopping had only managed to earn her one of Addy’s boots.
He clasped Viola’s arm and pulled her gently back, then set aside his axe and reached, disengaging his daughter from the clutches of the evil tree branch.
“Oh, Addy,” said Viola. “You’ve sap all over the front of your coat.” She fussed over the girl exactly as his own mother used to do, except there was a difference between an indulgent grandmother and a…mother.
He felt his stomach tighten as he realized that he wanted Viola to have his babies, that his dream, the desire he had long ago put upon the shelf, was now possible again. He might still fill that old house with children, their children.
The tenuous hope flickered within him, and he hardly dared breathe for fear he would extinguish it once more.
Once Addy had regained her footing, she took him to the tree she had selected. It was slightly too tall, but had a nice shape and a fine, straight trunk. He retrieved his axe, chopped through the wood and dragged the tree back to the sleigh with Addy riding the pine like a travois.
The tree fit nicely behind the seat, though the branches had to be tied to keep them from encroaching into the seating area. The horse was anxious to return to the shelter of the livery, wher
e, no doubt, a nice bucket of oats awaited her, so her pace was brisk.
He and Addy sang “Jingle Bells” on the return trip, but Viola was unusually quiet. He wondered if her silence had something to do with whatever it was she had been trying to tell him or about his announcement that he planned to court her. He began to wonder about her first husband again. Why was it she had never mentioned him?
Perhaps that was what she meant to say, something about him. He’d be sure they had a moment’s peace when they returned home, so she could speak plain.
The scent of pine filled the cold air about them as they jingled and jangled through town. He paused at his home to unload the tree before climbing back into his seat.
Viola did not go in, but stood beside the sleigh. “Mr. Foerster? We were interrupted in the forest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Addy came back down the steps to tug at Mrs. Guntherson’s shirts. “I’m cold.”
Viola looked from him to the girl and frowned.
“I’ll be back in two shakes,” he promised. “Soon as I get this sleigh stowed at the livery.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded her consent. Her solemnity worried him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
He thought about the kiss. Had he been too forward? Damn Kelly Milward and her advice anyway. He’d gone too fast. But she was a widow; surely she was used to a man’s appetites. He glanced back and found her following him with her worried eyes as he pulled into the street.
Trent returned the sleigh and was just leaving the livery stable when he spotted his deputy. The two fell into step together.
“I’m going home for lunch. Can you stay until I get back?” asked Trent.
Joey pushed his hat back on his head and grinned. “I reckon so.”
“Sheriff!”
They turned toward the unfamiliar female voice and found a handsome woman, about Joey’s age, striding purposefully toward them. She was out of breath when she reached them, her cheeks flushed and her blue eyes sparkling. Joey’s mouth hung open as he gaped.
Western Winter Wedding Bells Page 17
