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

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Caroline Lee's Christmas Collection: Six sweet historical western romances Page 8

by Caroline Lee


  “I think it’s beautiful here, but I’ve never felt anything this cold before!” Ash smiled, and the moment of shared appreciation passed.

  Nate tried to steal some corn from her bowl, but she slapped his hand away, unthinkingly. She knew she should behave with more dignity and respect, since he was her employer’s brother, but it was hard not to treat him like the scamp he was.

  She cleared her throat. “Now that you’re all fed and happy, I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind spending some time tomorrow decorating the tree? And maybe the house as well? I know that you’ve probably got plenty to do otherwise, but I can promise some delicious snacks, if you’ll help.” She looked hopefully from one to the other. Of course, she was perfectly capable of decorating herself, and they’d already done so much by taking time to fetch the tree, but it would be more meaningful if they helped. Besides, Nate had never had the experience of decorating, of preparing for the holiday, and that anticipation was important.

  They glanced at each other, and almost in tandem, shrugged nonchalantly. Ash smiled again and turned to her. “Nothing too pressing waiting for us right now. We can give you some time tomorrow, if you’ll follow through on those snacks. And if they’re likely to be as delicious as this pie.”

  Her heart leaped, and she wasn’t sure why decorating her employer’s house had suddenly come to mean so much. Her smile probably stretched from ear to ear. “They will be, I promise!”

  She hummed her way through cleaning up, as they each busied themselves. Ash settled himself on one of the chairs in front of the fire she’d built up earlier, and invited her to join him. She did, picking up the long blue cape she was working on for Wendy. It was less involved than Annie’s coat, which is why she’d chosen the design, but it would be just as warm.

  Nate joined them at the hearth, and when she made a move to get up to give him the more comfortable seat, he waved her back, joking about “deferring to his elders”. She had to laugh at that, and at the stories he entertained her with over the next hour. Ash was surprisingly involved, telling just as many stories about Nate as a child, which made the young man laugh harder.

  Finally, Ash stood up, and Molly took that as her cue to start arranging her sewing. She glanced up to see Ash glaring at his brother. “Don’t you need to go check on something in the barn?”

  “Nah, everything was nice and—oh.” Nate’s brows rose comically. “Oh yeah, the barn. Yep, gotta go… do… something in the barn.” He rolled his eyes, and smiled at her. “’Night, Molly!”

  “Goodnight.” She watched him grab his coat off the hook beside the door, and braced herself for the blast of cold air as he slipped outside. She wondered about the exchange, but only for as long as it took to turn back. Then she wasn’t able to think at all.

  She was alone with Ash. Alone in the house, and he was looking at her with that heated stare, and she was feeling quite warm. Oh my.

  “Come here, Molly.” Even his voice was warm, and low, and she felt it down in her belly. She didn’t even think about ignoring the command, too enthralled to reason. Slowly, she crossed the braided rug to stand in front of him.

  For a long moment he didn’t do anything. Then, slowly, he raised his good hand to stroke the backs of his fingers down her cheek. She shivered, but couldn’t step back, to put some proper distance between them. She was utterly captured by the intensity in those soft eyes. She felt like she was falling into them, and unconsciously leaned closer to him.

  His smile was slight, and his gaze serious. “I like having you around, Molly.” He was whispering, but they were standing close enough that she didn’t have any trouble hearing.

  Her response was instinctual. “I like being here, with you.”

  This time his smile reached his eyes. “You fit in here, Molly. Already your sewing has a place on the mantel,” she didn’t have to turn to know it was the truth. She’d been working there every free moment, to ready the girls’ winter wear, “And you’ve reorganized the kitchen to suit you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her whisper was slight, but she meant it. She hadn’t intended to take over their house; she was just the housekeeper.

  “Don’t be.” He caught one loose curl and tucked it behind her ear, and then rested that hand on her neck. She fought to keep her cheek from pressing against his palm, and her heart steady. “It’s nice. I like that you’ve made this place your home.” He took a deep breath, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his chest strained against the fabric of his shirt. “I want you to think about making it your home longer, past the thaw.”

  She didn’t understand, and it must have shown on her face. Using gentle pressure, he brought her face a little closer to his. “Stay here with us, Molly. With me.”

  What…?And then she wasn’t thinking at all, because he’d lowered his lips gently to hers. The kiss was sweet and mild, and she held her breath to better appreciate it. Her first kiss—not counting that hotel guest’s harassment that had led to her dismissal from her job—and it was every bit as precious as she’d hoped and imagined in her childish fantasies. His lips were chapped, but that made them tender. She would have thought that the beard would itch, but it was surprisingly ticklish, and she couldn’t help but smile beneath his ministrations.

  He was the one who pulled away, smiling back at her bemused expression. “Marry me, Molly Murray. Stay here and be my wife.”

  Her lips formed a small ‘oh’ of surprise, and he groaned. With one swift yank, she was plastered against him, his good arm wrapped behind her, and her hands flattened against his strong chest. She remembered the feel of his chest hair against the backs of her fingers—had it been only that morning?—and then she wasn’t thinking at all.

  If that last kiss had been soft and gentle, then this one was hard. He crushed his mouth to hers, and her heart leapt at the contact. This wasn’t the kiss of girlish fantasies, but the way a man would kiss a woman he wanted! His lips were demanding, his tongue probing and his breath hot… and she was captivated. She gave as good as she took, and learned more about men in those few busy moments than she could have imagined.

  She came to her senses a short time later, sitting on his lap, of all places, on one of the chairs. His arm was still around her, but his forehead was pressed against her shoulder, and he was panting like he’d been running. Her fingers were gently stroking the muscles of his left arm, over the cast. He was so firm, so warm. He made her feel things she’d never felt in areas she hadn’t known could feel. There was a warmth between her legs that she couldn’t explain, but she squirmed a bit on his lap.

  He barked out a hoarse laugh. “Molly, don’t do that. In fact, don’t move at all.”

  She stilled, and it was a long moment before he took another deep breath and lifted his head. He looked in pain, but then, she didn’t feel top-notch either. She wanted to know why he’d stopped, but deep down she knew that if he hadn’t, she’d be in his bed right now. She admired his honor and restraint, but a part of her bemoaned it, too.

  Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes again, and whispered, “You don’t have to say yes or no right now, Molly, but promise me you’ll think about it. About marrying me. I don’t want you to leave.”

  It was no I love you, but it was the first, and only, marriage proposal Molly Murray had ever received. She was flattered. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but no sound emerged.

  He straightened slowly, and sighed. He kissed her nose, and lifted her off of him, like she weighed nothing. “I think you should probably head upstairs, Molly. I’m not sure I can control myself around you, right now.”

  That was enough to send her scurrying for the stairs, but she turned again before she closed the quilt that she used as a door. Ash was kneeling in front of the hearth, banking the fire. He half-turned, resting the poker on his knee, and found her in the darkness. “Goodnight, Miss Murray.”

  She wasn’t sure if he heard her whispered reply, but didn’t think she could make herself say it
louder, over the lump in her throat. “Goodnight, Mr. Barker.”

  After that erotically disturbing encounter, she assumed she’d have trouble falling asleep, but she was wrong. She drifted off almost as soon as she lay down, and dreamed of giving up her goal of owning a bakery, of being stuck out on a lonely horse ranch in the middle of the Cheyenne wilderness. Of becoming Mrs. Ash Barker.

  And in her dream, despite knowing that she’d settled for a man who didn’t love her, who only wanted her because she made his life comfortable, she was genuinely happy. And that was what worried her.

  Chapter 9

  Ash woke to the smell of bacon, and had to smile. Molly hadn’t woken up early since that first morning, once Ash pointed out that she wasn’t working the early shift at the hotel anymore. But he had to admit that on occasion, it was a nice surprise to wake up to. He made a mental note to try to get up early one morning and cook her breakfast, once his arm healed, and once she agreed to marry him.

  He stacked his good arm behind his head and stared at the tall ceiling. He’d never before asked a woman to marry him, and couldn’t help but think that he’d made a cock-up of the whole thing. But still, it just felt right to be kissing Miss Molly Murray beside the hearth. Holding her had felt so natural, it had been hard to stop. And kissing her? Hooo-whee! His smile grew. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced a kiss quite that hot before.

  Maybe it was because he knew she was a virgin. Maybe it was because he knew she’d make such a fine wife. Or maybe it was because she fit against him so perfectly, and had melted so completely into his kiss. When their lips first met, she’d stiffened, but quickly became so involved that he almost lost control. He’d never kissed a woman who could meet him head-on like that; he didn’t have to worry about hurting her, or getting a pain in his neck from bending. And he knew now that she’d be able to match his passions.

  Yep, Molly Murray was the woman for him.

  He stretched and scratched at his cheek under his beard. Maybe he’d shave it before she married him. A woman ought to see what she was getting, after all.

  He pulled on his jeans and shirt, but didn’t bother with the sling, or with buttoning it all the way up. As he eased open the door to the main room, and watched Molly bustling about the kitchen, a slow smile stretched across his face. God Almighty, a man could get used to such a sight. A beautiful woman making his house a comfortable place, doing all those little things women did to make a man feel good, like smiling and singing and leaving their scented soaps in the sink. Molly had made herself right at home—her sewing was on the mantel, her shawl hanging on the hook beside the door, and her spices carefully organized in one of the cabinets—and he didn’t mind at all. He hoped it meant she was comfortable enough to stick around.

  She finished flipping the bacon, and went back to stirring something in a big bowl. When he straightened, the floor creaked, and she let out a startled gasp and dropped the spoon. Her eyes flicked to his, and a blush crept up her neck. She grabbed the spoon, turned slightly away, and hunched over the bowl again, stirring frantically.

  He was still smiling when he reached her, and hooking his good fingers under her chin, raised her lips to meet his. It was a sweet kiss, a soft one, over before she could draw a breath, but he still saw the confused daze in her eyes when he pulled away. “Good morning, Molly. Hope you slept okay?” His whisper was teasing, but she was too bewildered to appreciate it.

  He enjoyed making her so flustered, but then she surprised him by putting down the spoon and reaching up to button up his shirt. Just when he thought he had her pegged as a virginal naïve miss, she went and did something bold enough to make him think she’d been born and raised on a horse farm. Touching him in his current frame of mind was certainly bold, and he figured she’d do just fine out here in the Cheyenne wilderness.

  That thought surprised a burst of laughter out of him, which drew her attention. A small smile curved those full lips, and he found himself wanting to kiss her again. So he did.

  When they drew apart, she wasn’t blushing, but watching him curiously.

  “What?”

  “You don’t laugh very much. It’s very nice. You should do it more often.”

  He chuckled and dropped a kiss to her forehead. He’d been thinking about that kiss, and had flattered himself to think she’d been thinking the same. The woman certainly kept him guessing. Life was going to be exciting with her around. “I guess I don’t have much reason to laugh out here. I hope you’ll change that.”

  Hinting at his proposal brought the blush back, but she didn’t drop her eyes again, and his smile grew. “Maybe.”

  His heart leapt, and he was surprised at the happiness he felt, knowing that she was considering marrying him. When had he ever felt that way about another woman? When had a woman’s feelings ever brought him joy? He wanted to shout, to twirl her around; but he appreciated her no-nonsense consideration. So instead, he just kissed her again.

  A loud throat-clearing broke his concentration, and they drew apart to see Nate standing beside the kitchen table, his hands on his hips and his eyes glued to the ceiling with a long-suffering look. Molly practically jumped backwards, and hurried to pat her hair into order, although Ash didn’t see anything wrong with it. She was obviously just flustered by the kid seeing them like that. She opened her mouth to say something—explain, probably—but then closed it and looked to him imploringly.

  Ash didn’t have to say anything, though, because Nate’s quipped “I’m guessing she said yes, big brother?” proved that he’d been in on the proposal. Molly whirled back to the young man.

  “I said ‘maybe’, and I’ll thank you to not talk about me like I’m not here, it’s just plain rude.”

  Nate’s hands rose defensively, and he grinned charmingly. “Far be it from me to upset whoever’s cooking that bacon. Smells great, by the way.”

  Her feathers less ruffled, Molly pointed to the table. “If you’ll set out the dishes, I’ll have breakfast out in a jiffy.”

  Ash leaned one hip against the counter, and watched her bustle around the kitchen, putting the bacon on a platter with a heaping pile of spicy-smelling eggs and poking around in the oven. Her head was still inside when Nate asked, entirely too nonchalantly to be off-hand, “So why didn’t you say yes, Molly?”

  She backed out, most of her attention on the pan of sweet cinnamon rolls she held between two rags. Ash’s mouth watered at the sight. He’d only had cinnamon rolls once before, when he’d been invited to dine with the commander at Fort Laramie, and he’d long remembered the succulent little bits of sweetness. Suddenly, he was just as interested in those rolls as her response.

  She kicked the oven door closed behind her, and crossed to the table. Carefully arranging the pan on a towel, she distractedly answered Nate. “Because where I come from, there’s a word for a housekeeper who dallies with her employer, and it’s not a nice name.”

  The young man reached out and grabbed her hand. Surprised, she gave him her full attention. “They’re probably saying those things already, and they’ll stop saying them when you marry Ash.”

  She tried to pull away. “There’s also a word for a servant who marries her employer.”

  “Yep.” The kid grinned again. “’Wife’.” She frowned at his teasing, and Ash watched his brother’s eyes soften. “Ah, come on, Molly. We really like having you around, and hopefully you like us. Say yes to him, and stay here.”

  She finally succeeded in freeing her hand, and she tucked a curl behind her ear. “And what about my sisters? Do you think you’d like having them around?”

  Nate shrugged. “Life’s not easy out here, but it’s easier with more people. Having you here has been helpful, since we’re down to three hands otherwise.” He winked at Ash, who managed to not groan at the stupid joke. “And having two more sets of hands would be great.”

  “Even if one set belongs to a little girl?”

  “If she can learn to make soap or cure meat or tend
a garden or any of the other things we don’t have enough help—or talent—for now, that’ll save Ash money in town. So yeah, it’ll be good to have more people.”

  Ash noticed that Nate had mentioned “Ash’s money”, which reminded him that he needed to get working on that deed. The kid deserved to have some ownership of the ranch.

  But he forgot all that when Molly turned to him, the question in her eyes. He could tell she wanted him to confirm what Nate said. So he nodded. “Right now we buy everything—including most of our food supplies—in town, which cuts into our profits. Yeah, having extra mouths to feed will cut into our profits too, but having extra hands that aren’t worried about expanding the business, and just want to help keep us alive… that’ll be real useful.” She didn’t say anything, and he got to wondering about little Annie again. “You think your sisters could handle that?”

  She raised her chin. “I know they can. We’ve been surviving on our own, and doing without store-bought goods since the Fire. The girls will pull their weight, and they can help with the ranch, too.”

  Seeing that Nate was finished setting the table, Ash held Molly’s chair out for her. Surprise showing on her face, she sat down, and the others joined her. As he was scooping a helping of eggs, Ash continued. “Sounds like you’re thinking about staying, Molly.”

  She sighed, not making a move towards the food. Nate noticed, but was busy shoveling eggs in his mouth. Through the food, he asked, “What’s holding you back?”

  She didn’t answer. Ash put down his fork. “Molly.” When she looked up at him, finally, he raised his brows. “What’s wrong? What are you worried about?”

  She sighed again, but didn’t turn away. “It’s just… since I was a little girl, helping my step-father in his shop, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. And that’s what I’ve been working towards, even after the Fire took away all our options.”

  Well, hell. He’d been hoping that she’d get over that goal, but didn’t know how to convince her. “And is that still what you want? Your dream?”

 

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