Caroline Lee's Christmas Collection: Six sweet historical western romances

by Caroline Lee

  She’d asked about their habits and eating schedule on the ranch. Since there was rarely anyone there but the two of them, they’d settled into a rut, and she was happy enough to join them. They woke up with the sun, unless there was a reason to get up earlier, and made breakfast after their morning chores. Molly seemed thrilled to discover those included milking the cow and collecting eggs, so she’d have those fresh for breakfast.

  After breakfast they’d head out to the barns and whatever tasks they had for the day. There was a lot less to do on the ranch in the winter; in the spring there was the big push to catch wild horses, and in the autumn they sold the previous year’s work. Most of their horses went to the army at Fort Laramie, but they were gaining a reputation in Cheyenne as providers of fine horseflesh. During the winter they had a much lower stock, and less to do. They spent their time on all the fix-it projects they were too busy to tackle during the year. During the coldest part of the season, sometimes they only left the house a few times a day to check on the horses, and otherwise spent their time inside. Usually during January or so, Ash would clear out some space in the back part of the main room, and start his building projects; the furniture in the room, and the house itself in some aspects, were a result of his tinkering during the cold months.

  They tended to like their big meal towards the end of the afternoon, with a big breakfast making them last ‘til then. Molly was happy to oblige their preferences, and promised that since she’d spent four years cooking breakfasts for hotel guests in Chicago, they’d be pleased with her selections. They left for the barn with her deep in consideration over planned meals.

  Dinner that first day didn’t appear remarkable at first glance—just a beef stew and some bread—but Ash changed his opinion after his first bite. The woman could cook. She’d taken ingredients that he’d used hundreds of times before, and even spices that he’d recognized, and combined them in some way that tasted new and interesting. It tasted the way he imagined a real, home-cooked meal would taste, even though he didn’t have anything to compare it to. He’d been dumped at the orphanage in St. Louis so young that he didn’t remember whatever home he might have had, and then he’d lit out for the western territories as soon as he was able. But this meal tasted like something someone’s mother might make.

  Which is when Ash gave up on thinking of Molly as his housekeeper, and started wondering if she’d be amenable to something more permanent. When she first stood up to him in the street, trying to protect Nate, Ash had been intrigued. He rarely met a woman as tall and sturdy-looking as she was, and definitely not one who would could stand up to him. Then, when he got to know her, he was intrigued by her determination and her unexpected softness. He offered her the job because she needed it, and because they needed another set of hands out on the ranch. It was a purely logical decision to have her work for them, and he tried to convince himself that his attraction to her made no difference. And now he found himself thinking that having her around his house all the time might be pretty nice. He valued his privacy, but he was finding that he valued the way she made him feel even more. Hell, he’d only known the woman a few days, and he was thinking about asking her to stay past the winter?

  It took another few days before he admitted the truth; he was seriously thinking about asking her to stay forever.

  Chapter 5

  By her second week on the ranch, Molly felt at home. And not just ‘at home’ because she knew where everything was, or because she’d cleaned everything she could reach, or because she had been granted complete control over the kitchen. No, she really and truly felt like she was home. She felt more ‘at home’ here in this simple house than she had since they’d lost their townhome to creditors after the fire. The apartment she’d shared with her sisters had never been more than a place to collapse after a long day’s work, and had never been filled with the smiles and laughter the ranch was.

  Who would have thought it? Her first sight of Ash Barker had scared her; he’d been big and burly and so… so manly, striding down the street in anger. But she had no reason to be scared of him. The man was startling at first glance, certainly, but he was kind to her, and had a gentleness in his eyes that she found herself contemplating more than necessary. Certainly, the man was reserved, but not somber; he had a great, booming laugh that had startled her the first time she’d joined in Nate’s joking. And Ash’s smiles? Whew! They were… well, they made her feel quite warm, for some reason.

  She spent her days in the house, but Ash didn’t seem to mind when she joined them in the barn to visit the horses. She wasn’t fond of the large animals, but when she saw how well Ash and Nate had trained them, she grew less nervous. Still, she didn’t venture out often, mainly because of the weather. For some reason, it seemed so much colder in Cheyenne than in Chicago. Nate laughed when she mentioned it, and told her it was probably because there were no tall buildings around to block the wind. Her first task, after cleaning the house and fixing up the loft, had been to start cutting the thick blue wool. While she would have liked a new coat herself, she knew she needed to get one made for Annie before the delicate little girl arrived. She’d never had anything worse than the German Measles, but she was so frail that she seemed to attract every cold that came her way. Molly couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her sister not sniffling into a handkerchief.

  She was careful not to neglect her employers for her sewing, though. She’d been flattered by their praise of her first dinner, and recognized that she’d impressed Ash. But when she presented them with her first dessert, a simple sweet potato pie, she didn’t quite understand the look that came to Ash’s face. He was staring at the fireplace, but not really looking at it, not even chewing the bite he’d taken off his fork. When she’d asked him if it tasted alright, he’d hastily swallowed and nodded. His grin looked forced, though, and he looked at her oddly for the rest of the meal.

  Since that dinner, and their reactions, she’d put extra effort into making their meals delicious, focusing on the foods and flavors she was coming to know that they liked. Nate, for instance, was more adventurous with his tastes, while Ash was suspicious of anything he hadn’t tried before. So far, he’d liked everything ‘new’ she’d prepared, but she was taking it slow; she’d save the fancy French sauces for later in the winter.

  Besides cooking and her sewing, and the less-frequent chores like laundry and soap-making, she needed to keep the house neat. She’d gotten permission to enter their bedrooms, and keep them tidy. Ash didn’t leave her anything to do except dust; his room was minimalistic and orderly, with one dresser only half-full of clothes, a night stand and oil lamp, and the largest bed she’d ever seen. On her first foray into the room, it had intimidated her enough that she’d left almost immediately. But on the second day, she noticed the way his blankets were piled around the footboard, and crossed the room to make the bed properly. She supposed that he couldn’t do it with only one arm, and so she made his bed for him every morning, the way she’d been taught as a girl. He never said anything, but she liked to imagine that she was making his life a little easier.

  Nate’s room, on the other hand, was a disaster area! The boy didn’t seem to use his dresser at all, preferring instead to pile his clothing up on the backs of one of two chairs, or over the bookshelf stacked high with tools, nick-knacks, and a few books that looked like they’d been read many times. It felt wrong to be sorting through a young man’s treasures, but she’d been hired to clean, and so she did. When he saw what she’d done, he grinned unrepentantly, and hugged her with a cheeky “Thanks, Molly!” She’d blushed, and thereafter unconsciously treated the boy more like a younger sibling than an employer.

  They both continued to enjoy her baking, and she put extra effort into making them daily little treats, knowing that they hadn’t had them in a while. Nate seemed to like whatever she made, but Ash particularly liked her cookies. So one afternoon, when she’d pulled an absolutely perfect batch of sugar cookies out of the oven, sh
e decided that he needed to taste them now, when they were crisp on the outside and soft in the middle. So she bundled some of them into a towel, threw on her shawl, and ducked outside.

  The sun was bright, and the glare off the snow caused her to squint. But she was glad for the slight warmth it provided; she didn’t even need to cover her head, but just draped the thick wool shawl around her shoulders. Of course, it was still cold enough for the slush to have iced over, but it wasn’t as frigid as it could be on days without the sun. She held on to the rail as she picked her way carefully down the front steps, but then she was able to hurry towards the barn. In her time here, she’d been outside enough to see the beauty in the simplicity of the buildings, and what she initially thought was stark, she now appreciated as utilitarian.

  She came around the side of the barn, and stopped short at the sight of him in the corral. Ash was working with a large horse, whose coat was as dark as his hair, his shirt unbuttoned clear down to his naval, and his sleeves rolled up. She could see the sweat clinging to his temples from where she stood, as she watched him chase the animal and yell out commands. He didn’t try to mount the horse, or use any tack. He appeared to be training it with just his hand and his voice.

  Molly thought it was the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen. He was the most magnificent man she’d ever seen. He was more than a match for the big horse, and she drifted over to the fence to watch him.

  The sun must have become warmer, to account for her sudden flush, and the way her palms were sweating. It probably also accounted for the warmth in her belly and across her chest. She sighed, dreamily, content to lean on the upper rail and watch him all day.

  Ash wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, but he felt her gaze between his shoulder blades, and when he turned, there was his housekeeper watching him. She didn’t often come out to the outbuildings, and Ash assumed it was because she saw the house as her domain and the barns as his. But here she was, looking downright sexy with that windblown hair and pink cheeks. She was watching him with a dreamy look, and he had to grin. What was it about this woman that made him smile so much?

  He dismissed the yearling with a firm word and a fond slap on the rump, and the animal moved to the far side of the corral. Ash ambled towards her, wondering why she was there.

  She didn’t say anything to him when he joined her at the fence, resting his elbows on the rail next to hers. Their faces were only inches apart, and she was slow to realize that. When she did, she straightened hurriedly, and her fluster pleased him. He was beginning to suspect that Molly Murray might be as attracted to him as he was to her.

  She could cook like a chef, kept his home orderly, could lend a hand out in the barn when necessary, and looked like a goddess. What more could a man want? He’d been thinking more seriously about asking her to stay on the ranch, which would mean marriage. Whereas even two months ago that thought would have made him cringe, thinking he was satisfied with the way things stood, he was now realizing that Molly was the perfect partner for him.

  And he aimed to prove it to her.

  “Howdy, ma’am. Just thought you’d come out to say hello?”

  She flushed, but didn’t look away. He liked that forwardness about her. It showed that she was strong enough to survive out here in the Cheyenne nothingness. Still, her stammer was endearing. “I… uh… made cookies.” She held up a bundle, and then quickly broke eye contact to open it up.

  He smiled, again, at the top of her head, his pleasure at her visit divided between the prospect of her baking and her own presence.

  In fact, he was so focused on her that he barely appreciated the absolute delight of biting into the sugar cookie she handed him. She took one for herself, and he couldn’t help but stare at the pink tongue that darted out to lick crumbs from those perfect lips.

  “These are really good, Molly. Thanks.”

  She smiled slightly, still looking flustered. “I’m glad you like them. They came out so well, I thought you should have a few now, rather than after dinner.”

  She’d missed some crumbs, there on her chin. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from reaching out to brush them away, with one callused thumb. She didn’t seem to mind his touch, and was that a shiver he saw right before she closed her eyes? “You spoil us, Molly.”

  She was slow to regain her control. “You deserve it. You work so hard, and cookies are the least I can do.”

  “It’s been real nice having you around. Not just for your cookies, either.” She blushed, but was smiling. It made him want to kiss her.

  In fact, he was leaning in towards her when he realized what he was doing, and slowing straightened. He didn’t want to push her, to frighten her. He was finding that he wanted to taste her—taste the sugar cookies on her lips—more than he’d wanted anything in the past. But he also didn’t want to overwhelm her.

  She was holding her breath, and that realization made her even more appealing. Maybe she was willing to be overwhelmed…?

  He didn’t want to rush things, but he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He ran the fingers of his good hand down her cheek, feeling the dimple under his fingers as she smiled. “…Real nice.”

  “I’ve… I’ve enjoyed being here. You’ve welcomed me. Made me feel almost like part of your family. That’s been very nice.”

  “Well, we think of you as part of our family. I want you to feel at home here.” He wanted her to be at home here on his ranch, but hadn’t quite figured out how to ask her.

  “I do.” Her whispered confession made his heart leap, and a small grin pull up the corners of his lips.

  He’d do it. He’d ask her to marry him. To stay here and be his partner and part of his family and make his home complete.

  She must have seen something in his face, because her breath hitched again, and she straightened suddenly.

  “I have to… dinner shouldn’t be left to burn.” Was her hand shaking, when she tucked an errant curl behind her ear? He wanted to believe that his touch had flustered her.

  He nodded slowly, watching her, thinking how nice she looked there in the afternoon sun. She sure looked like she belonged here. With him.

  She left him the bundle of cookies, and he promised himself that he’d take them into the barn to share with Nate, right after he finished watching her walk away. He leaned there on the fence, munching on a perfect cookie, enjoying the way her dress swung around her bottom. She looked back at him twice, and both times he saw her smile.

  Yep, Molly Murray was the woman for him.

  Chapter 6

  Molly was… happy. Happier than she could remember being, at least since her mother died. Happier than she thought she had a right to be, living a life so different from what she’d always assumed. She was a little disturbed to discover how easily she was forgetting her dream of opening a bakery, and thinking about how nice it was to run a household, instead. She’d just always assumed that she’d open a bakery, like Papa, and that’s what she’d been working towards for so many years. But now she was questioning if that’s what she really wanted.

  She liked being here, stuck out in the middle of nowhere with two men who were no longer strangers. She liked Nate’s irreverence and Ash’s patience and heated glances; she liked them. They made her feel like she was part of their family, and that was… well, that was a lovely feeling. She liked mealtimes the best, when they would linger over her creations, and their praises made her feel warm. If they didn’t have any pressing concerns, they would talk until the fire burned down; she best loved hearing stories about the lives they’d carved out of the Cheyenne wilderness.

  Fair’s fair, though; she told them all about her life in Chicago, and the bakery she’d run with her stepfather, and the dreams she’d had that burned in the Great Fire. She’d missed Papa after his death, of course, but theirs had always been more of a business relationship, each confident in the other’s skills and interests, each committed to making the bakery successful. She’d grown
to love him for the way he accepted her with her mother, and she’d admired him for his abilities. Molly glossed over the details of his death, but told them how she’d been driven for a long time to open her own bakery or coffee shop. It had been impossible in Chicago, after the creditors took what the fire had left them, but she still had hopes for Salt Lake City.

  Ash put down his fork, taking the time to arrange it beside his plate. She found that she liked the deliberate part of his personality, so different from what she’d assumed the first time she’d seen him. He finished chewing the last of his biscuits and gravy, and pierced her with that soft gray she was finding harder and harder to resist.

  “So you figured you’d head out here and open a business?” She nodded. “Five years ago I would’ve called that a dumb idea, but with the railroad bringing folks in all the time, it might’ve worked.”

  “That was my thinking, yes. I needed a job to tide me over until I could find a property to lease, and work out an arrangement with a supplier.” She toyed with her biscuit. “I’d thought Cheyenne would have been different from the smaller towns I’d visited along the railroad. But no one was particularly interested in hiring me.” They kept making lewd suggestions.

  He nodded, as if he could hear her thoughts, and she wondered if maybe he could when he said, “I’ll bet they made some suggestions of where you could get work, and you didn’t like the sound of that, huh?” She blushed and looked away. The topic was entirely unsuitable for discussion with one’s employer, so why did her breath hitch at the knowing look in his eyes?