“Miss Ellie, are you watching us?” Hannah asked from her position on the floor.
“I am.” Or rather, she was now.
“Brody is really good at jacks.”
Determined to focus on the children, and not what was being discussed outside the church, Ellie forced her attention on the game unfolding on the floor. Tongue clamped between his teeth, Brody threw the ball in the air and gathered up a handful of jacks. He had fast reflexes and caught the ball before it bounced twice. “Yes, Brody is very good at the game.”
“Want to play with us?”
Ellie shook her head. “Not right now. Later, perhaps.” When my heart isn’t breaking. “I have to check on something in another part of the house.”
Head down, she rushed to her father’s private sanctuary in the back of the house. She took a roundabout route, bypassing the kitchen where her father and Betsy were drinking coffee and talking in low tones.
Eyes damp with sorrow, barely able to see through a blurry haze of regret, she opened and then closed the door quietly behind her.
Now that Caleb’s future bride was in Thunder Ridge, he could very well be married before Christmas.
How would she ever bear seeing him with another woman?
Choking on her hurt, on her terrible sense of loss, she sank into a wingback chair and buried her face in her hands.
She wanted to sob for hours. She refrained, holding back the tears by sheer force of will.
Barely a month ago, she’d come home from Colorado Springs vulnerable and humiliated. She thought she’d experienced the worst kind of hurt imaginable. She’d been wrong, so wrong. Losing Caleb and his daughters hurt a thousand times worse.
She’d promised herself she would never fall in love with a man who didn’t love her back. And she hadn’t. Caleb loved her, she was sure of it. But he hadn’t said the words. He probably never would. He was promised to another woman, a stranger who wouldn’t expect too much from him. A woman who would accept his conditions for a marriage of convenience.
Ellie choked on a sob after all.
A pounding came at the door.
She lifted her head. The bold, hard raps of knuckles to wood continued.
“Ellie, open up, I know you’re in there.” Knock, knock, knock. “Let me in.”
She swiped furiously at her cheeks. “Go away, Caleb.”
“Not until you hear me out.”
She stood, moved to the door, but couldn’t gather the courage to do as he requested. She placed her hand flat on the wood instead. “I can’t talk to you right now. Please, Caleb, let me alone.”
“I’m not leaving.”
The cloud of misery hanging heavy in her heart lightened somewhat at his determination. She pushed back from the door.
“Ellie.” He’d never spoken her name with such tenderness. “Open up.”
Swiftly, without hardly knowing she’d meant to do it, she twisted the knob and swung open the door in a single swoop.
Caleb reared back.
Clearly, she’d caught him by surprise.
He recovered quickly. Then gave her his slow, gentle smile, the one she’d first fallen in love with all those years ago.
“I can’t do this.” She turned her back to him.
“Ellie.” Again, her name slipped past his lips like a caress. “I have much to say to you, things you deserve to hear.”
“I’m not feeling very conversational.”
“That’s good.” He moved around her. “Because I plan to do all the talking.”
*
Holding nothing but Ellie’s gaze, Caleb got straight to the point. “Matters aren’t as they may seem.”
“Are you saying that the woman with Mrs. Jenson isn’t your mail-order bride?”
“Oh, she’s the woman Mrs. Jenson has chosen to become my wife.”
Ellie’s deep, hesitant intake of air was more eloquent than words.
“But I won’t be marrying her.”
“You…you won’t?”
“I told her there was a change in plans.”
“You did?”
“She wasn’t upset over my change of heart, more confused,” he said, briefly reliving his surprise. “I offered to pay for her return ticket, but it seems she wants to stay in Thunder Ridge. Mrs. Jenson is already making plans for her to marry someone else. Billie Quinn’s name came up, as did a few others.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out as you planned.” The smile playing at the corners of her mouth suggested otherwise.
His own lips lifted. “No you’re not, and neither am I.”
They held one another’s gaze.
“Ellie, all I’ve ever wanted was a normal, stable home for my daughters. I thought that was enough. Love never entered the equation. I’d had my chance at love and didn’t want another try. But then you came into my life and taught me to want more, not only for the girls but also for myself.”
“Love and stability don’t have to be mutually exclusive. You need both to make a home.”
“I know that now.”
Ellie had already told him how she felt. I love you. She’d said the words sweetly, confidently.
It was now his turn to say them to her. “I love you, Ellie.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
He smoothed a fingertip along her cheek, down her jaw. “I love you with all that I am.”
“I love you, too. I have for a very long time.”
The wonder of that stole his breath.
“I want you to be my wife. I want us to have a real marriage, not one of convenience but a union full of love and laughter. Ellie, will you marry—”
“Yes.”
“—me?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Laughing, she leaped into his arms and planted her mouth to his. “Yes, Caleb, I’ll marry you.”
He stared into her eyes. “You don’t want to think about it? You’ll be getting three of us.”
With the softest expression he’d ever seen in her eyes, she cupped his cheek. “I want to be your wife. I want to mother your daughters as if they were my own. I want to build a home with you and the girls and any other children that may come along, God willing.”
Other children. With Ellie. He couldn’t think of a richer, more satisfying future.
“I want to marry you as soon as possible,” he said. “And start our life together.”
“I’m pretty sure that can be arranged. I happen to know a preacher who will happily perform the ceremony.”
He kissed her nose. “Handy.”
“Isn’t it?”
He kissed her cheek. “When do you want to tell the girls?”
“I was thinking now.”
“Sounds perfect to me, but first…” He kissed her lips, lingering a moment longer than any friend would dare.
“You know, Caleb,” Ellie whispered in his ear. “If we work out the timing just right, we could be a family by Christmas.”
A family by Christmas. “That would be the best gift I could ever hope to receive.”
*
Dear Reader,
I adore creating characters searching for love, family and a place to call their own. The day Ellie and Caleb became husband and wife two special little girls gained a new mother, one who couldn’t have loved them more if they’d been born to her. Now, that’s what I call a happy ending.
When I was approached to write this shorter book, I never expected to embark on my own unique journey. In the process of helping Ellie and Caleb find one another, I discovered a brand-new town with a host of characters waiting for their happily-ever-after. This isn’t the last time I’ll be visiting Thunder Ridge, Wyoming. I certainly hope you’ll come along for the ride, as well.
I love hearing from readers. You can drop me a quick note either through my website at www.reneeryan.com or on my Facebook page ReneeRyanBooks.
In the meantime, happy reading!
Cheers!
Renee
Yuletide Reunio
n
Louise M. Gouge
This story is dedicated to my wonderful editor, Shana Asaro, whose insights always improve my stories; to my hardworking agent, who wisely guides my writing career; and, as always, to my dear husband, David Gouge, who is my inspiration and loving support.
Walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us.
—Ephesians 5:2
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Dear Reader
Chapter One
Riverton, New Mexico
December 1886
At the sound of approaching hoof beats, Emma Sharp didn’t bother to look up from clearing away the charred boards of her family’s burned-out barn. No doubt more men were coming to help with the cleanup. The ones who’d come first thing this morning said last night’s blaze had been visible in the clear, black sky from ten miles away, so she expected many good neighbors to show up throughout the day and for days to come.
Emma shoved a lock of hair from her forehead with her leather-gloved hand and blew away the fine strands that always lingered to tickle her forehead and cheeks.
The hoof beats stopped nearby and a familiar voice called out in a teasing tone, “My, my, what a pretty sight.”
Emma froze. Jared Mattson. The last person she wanted to see, even at her best. Today, dressed in Pa’s old trousers and faded flannel shirt, she cringed in spite of herself. Even two years after he cruelly played with her affections and then jilted her without any explanation, she still couldn’t bear to be in his presence. She could manage to ignore him in church and at social gatherings, but now, covered from head to toe with soot, she would make an easy target for his teasing wit.
She looked up to see the grin on Jared’s too-handsome face but quickly cut her gaze away from him to focus on his brother Cal, whose gray eyes exuded kind regard. “Hey, Cal. Nice of you to come over and help. Julia’s inside fixing refreshments. I know she’d like to see you before you get to work.”
For several weeks, Emma’s younger sister, Julia, had expected a proposal from Jared’s truehearted younger brother. Maybe this would be the day. It was a marriage both families approved of. In all her twenty years, Emma had never met a nicer young man than Cal. Too bad some of that couldn’t rub off on Jared.
“Thanks, Miss Emma.” Cal threw a leg over the pommel of his saddle and slid to the ground. All five of the Mattson brothers dismounted that way, just like Indians. And all five were entirely too good-looking with their dark brown hair, gray eyes and hardy cowboy forms. Many a gal in this part of New Mexico Territory had tried to lasso one of the four single brothers, with no success. That was, until Julia won Cal’s heart.
“I’ll be right back out to help.” Cal led his horse to the hitching rail by the back door of the house and looped the reins around it.
Jared slithered from his gelding, posted his fists at his waist and surveyed the damage with those piercing dark gray eyes that used to make her heart beat faster. “What happened?”
She paused for the briefest moment. “The barn burned down.” She granted him a quick, cross glance and added under her breath, “Obviously.” Lifting another ruined board, she tossed it into the pile to be burned in the fireplace. Very few boards could be salvaged for a new barn, meaning Pa would have to spend a lot of the profits from this past fall’s cattle sale to rebuild. At least they could store up several barrels of wood ash to make soap for a long time to come.
“Do tell.” He tipped his wide-brimmed hat back to expose the pale line across his forehead that most cowboys sported. “Did you knock over a lantern while milking, like Mrs. O’Leary’s cow did in Chicago back in ’71?” The continued grin on his well-formed face issued a challenge she couldn’t resist.
“Nope. O’course, I’ve never been as clumsy as you.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “I seem to recall having to soak my feet for quite some time after dancing with you at the harvest celebration in ’84 when you stomped on them every two seconds.” Back then, she’d been quick to forgive his lack of dancing skills because she’d expected a marriage proposal any day, one that never came. That was the last night he’d courted her.
“And I seem to recall—”
“Enough.” She held up a hand with the palm facing Jared. “Did you come to work or to yammer?” If he were closer, she’d be tempted to swipe some of her soot over his face, no matter how improper such a gesture would be.
“Weelll.” He drawled out the word slowly as he pulled on his well-worn leather gloves. “I reckon I’d best pitch in and get this job done. Sure don’t look like you and the boys have put much of a dent in it.”
He nodded toward the three other men who’d showed up four hours ago and hadn’t stopped working since. Half of the rubble had been cleared and sorted, so the men laughed and made a few humorous retorts. He doubtless knew these old friends didn’t mind his teasing, so his comment was obviously meant to goad her. He’d wait a long time for her reply.
“Thank you, Cal.” Julia’s voice wafted across the barnyard as she emerged from the house carrying a refreshment-laden tray.
Cal insisted on taking it from her, and his starry-eyed gaze at Julia caused an unexpected ache in Emma’s chest. If she were as sweet and ladylike as her sister, maybe she could win the love of a truehearted man. But Pa needed somebody to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him in running the ranch, and she was determined to be the one. Pa never complained about not having a son, even though he and Ma had lost three baby boys. God’s will, he called it. Ma said that most folks out here in this harsh land lost a child or two, and she bore her burden of grief with grace. Emma could only admire their faith and try real hard to fill in where God had left an empty spot.
Julia poured coffee from a steaming tin pot into crockery cups, and Cal passed them around to the men. They hesitated to take the offering, each looking at his grimy hands.
“Never mind the soot on the cups, men.” Julia gave them one of her glorious smiles. “It’ll wash off.”
Emma could see two of them melt into puddles of admiration, although not Jose Mendez, who was happily married. He and his wife, Maria—who was expecting a baby in a few weeks—had been chosen to portray the Holy Family during all the Las Posadas doings, which would begin tonight and were supposed to end up at the Sharps’ barn on Christmas Eve. Emma had looked forward to being in the middle of Riverton’s brand-new Christmas celebration with all of their neighbors. After all, this important event had been planned to bring the community together.
When the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad had extended their line to Espanola in 1880, Americanos like the Sharps and Mattsons had begun to move into the area to establish businesses and cattle and sheep ranches. Some communities saw deadly conflicts between the long-settled Mexicans and the newcomers. But the people who settled north of Espanola in the town they named Riverton decided to put their Christian faith into practice. Instead of trying to run off the Mexicans, they sought cooperation. Led by the pastors of Riverton’s new community church and the two-hundred-year-old Spanish mission, they planned to celebrate Christ’s birth by combining their traditions.
In the American tradition, folks would have Christmas trees and gift exchanges. Following Mexican customs, the community would gather at a different home, or “inn,” for nine evenings to celebrate Las Posadas. For this event, “Mary and Joseph” would travel from home to home seeking lodging. Each night, a different family would welcome them with refreshments and singing. The final celebration would take place on December 24, Christmas Eve. The inspiration of the Mexican tradition rang true to the new settlers, who’d done a sight of traveling themselves as they’d moved into this New Mexico Territory. Everyone had looked forward to watching Mary and Joseph find shelter at the Sharps’ large barn for the final and largest celebration. To finish it all off, they’d planned to have fire
works out in the field. Now another place would have to be chosen. Emma was particularly disappointed over having to miss the first night of the celebration, maybe every night.
As though reading her thoughts, Julia gave a soft sigh. “Looks like we’ll have to find another place for our Christmas Eve party. We were so much looking forward to having everyone come and celebrate Jesus’ birth here at our place.”
“Who’s to say you can’t still do it?”
Emma had to look around to be sure she heard right. Had Jared said that? Before she could offer a tart response, Cal spoke up.
“Whadda’ya have in mind, brother?” His gray eyes twinkled, as though he already knew the answer to his question.
“Why, building a new barn, of course.” He grinned that maddening grin of his that said he had everything under control. “Our pop said we could stay as long as it took to rebuild. We’ll get things started and then invite folks to come over for a barn raising. Pop said y’all’d need a barn before the worst of winter arrives. Gotta protect your horses and milk cows and that prize bull and all. That’s why we took so long getting here today.” He waved a hand toward the pack mule Emma hadn’t noticed behind their horses. “Had to pack up and bring our gear and tools so we could stay.” He looked beyond Julia. “That all right with you, Mr. Sharp?”
“I’d be much obliged, boy.” Pa grimaced painfully as he limped toward them, leaning heavily on his cane. He’d fought the fire right hard last night and had fallen down more than once in his desperation to put it out. Of course Ma and Emma and Julia had been right there, along with Paco, the lone cowhand in their hire who hadn’t gone over to Texas for the winter. “You sure Ralph can spare you?”
Jared and Cal traded a glance and laughed.
“I think our older brothers were glad to get rid of us for a spell,” Cal said. “There’s not so much work around the ranch in the winter that four men and a boy can’t handle it.”
“I’m much obliged.” Pa coughed softly, probably to clear some of last night’s smoke from his lungs. “We’ll put you up in the spare room.”
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 57
