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

by Caroline Lee

  But when one muscular palm cupped a breast through the thin cotton fabric of her nightgown, and she felt the burn clear down to that private area between her legs, she gasped and pulled away. It had been a sudden bolt of desire, as powerful as a lighting strike, and it left her shaken. She put one hand against his broad chest to slow his inexorable advance.

  “Ash.” His name was almost a gasp. She felt like she was panting; things were moving so quickly. “Ash, I’ve never done this before.”

  His smile was fleeting, this taciturn husband of hers who rarely laughed. “I know, honey.” He dropped a kiss to her exposed shoulder. “You’ll have to trust me.” Another kiss, and Molly shivered.

  “I…” She felt like her tongue was made of lead, her brain made of cotton. All she knew was that she loved this man, and loved the way his lips made her feel. Her objections seemed silly, now.

  “It’ll be fine, sugar, trust me.” Molly thought she might have nodded, but at that moment, callused fingertips brushed lightly against one bare nipple, and she couldn’t think anymore.

  Lord knows how he managed to get the rest of her nightgown off, but she helped him peel off the undershirt that somehow had gotten stuck on his cast. When he dropped his jeans and longjohns, she blushed and tried to look away, but he caught her chin. “It’ll be fine, Molly.” His kiss was deep and gentle and strong and reassuring all at once.

  When she thought she couldn’t stand another moment of the build-up, Ash guided her over to the bed. He sat down on the edge, and looked up at her with something akin to adoration. Molly’s heart suddenly lurched, wishing that he could love her the way she loved him. He didn’t say anything, but ran his good hand down her side, over one ample hip. “…so lovely.”

  Molly almost scoffed. She’d always been too big, too tall, too broad, too everything. But here was a man she didn’t tower over, who could hold her tightly with just one arm. Here was a man for her, finally. Standing over him for a rare moment, she ran her palm lightly down one of his cheeks, lingering at the cleft in his chin. She’d loved his kisses with the beard and without, but it was nice to be able to see his sporadic smiles more clearly.

  “Molly, with this bum arm, I’m not going to be able to love you the way I want.” She didn’t understand, and he must have seen that. “You’ll have to be in charge.” Her breath caught; how could she be in charge of their wedding night? “It’ll be better for your first time, anyhow.”

  He pulled her towards him, and then down, until she was straddling his lap, and he showed her what he meant. It was awkward, and painful, and then wonderful and surprising. He taught her the ancient dance, and when they found fulfillment, their arms wrapped around each other in a desperate embrace, he moaned her name.

  The sky was lightening to a dark blue in the east when Molly slipped out of his bed. She was mortified to discover that she’d slept next to him all night naked. And then, when she realized that he was naked too, her blush was hot enough to cook eggs. Thanking the Lord that Ash was still asleep, she quickly—and quietly—performed what ablutions she could, remembering how gentle he’d been when he’d helped her clean up the night before. Pulling on her nightgown and robe, she slipped out of the room.

  She stood in the dark main room, looking around the furnishings that had become so familiar in such a short amount of time. She was home. She was well and truly married. She was a woman in love with her husband, and hopeful that someday he might love her back.

  She sighed, and smiled ruefully. Well, she knew one way to a man’s heart: Through his stomach. Ash liked her cooking well enough, and they might as well start their first day as husband and wife with something delicious.

  She did a lot more sighing as she mixed up the biscuit dough, thinking about the incredible time she’d spent in his arms. She’d never—not in a million years—have guessed how wonderful it could be between a man and a woman. It made her wish she’d tried it earlier, but she couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone besides Ash. He was the one that made it so special, and made her feel so special.

  There were eggs in the icebox, although the chickens were laying less. But for now, there were enough to scramble with some milk—she’d send Nate out for that when he woke up—and a little salt and herbs. The bacon would be filling, and there was enough butter and jam for the biscuits. She and the girls would have to make some more butter in the next few days, if they wanted some for Christmas supper. As she started the coffee, Molly made a mental note to start a batch of cinnamon rolls rising later that day, for tomorrow’s breakfast. Ash seemed to like them.

  Her routine belied the significance of the day, but she was quickly coming to realize that life on the ranch—life in general, in fact—wasn’t like the frivolous dreams she’d harbored as a girl. Here in the Cheyenne wilderness, a woman could be married without the pomp and pageantry she’d imagined, loved within an inch of her life, and then be back to mixing biscuits the very next morning. The sheer ordinariness was what made the special memories important.

  Her musings were interrupted by a strong arm snaking around her middle, and a warm breath on her neck. “Good morning, wife.”

  His words, as much as his kiss, caused a shiver to race down her spine. Wife. “Good morning, husband.” She felt him smile against her skin.

  And just like that, their lives together began. The rest of their family joined them for that first breakfast together, drawn by the delicious smells and the sound of laughter. They joked and told stories and caught up until well after the coffee pot was empty. Wendy and Molly showed the men more signs than they could remember, including how to sign the letters, so they could spell words to Annie if she was without her slate and chalk. They all had fun making up new signs for things around the ranch the girl was likely to need to know, and Ash seemed particularly intent on making sure he could communicate with her, despite really being able to use only one hand. It warmed Molly’s heart, to see the two of them deep in conversation about something trivial. He quickly learned how to get her attention by stomping on the floor, and how to hand her little slate back and forth, scribbling questions and answers in short-hand.

  Nate had warmed up to her sisters, too. He often seemed to forget that Annie couldn’t hear him, talking to her just like normal. It seemed to simultaneously frustrate her that she didn’t always know what he was saying, and please her that he treated her like everyone else. He wasn’t so cold to Wendy, either. He wasn’t exactly friendly, though; it seemed like he expected disdain from her, and kept a wall of formality between them. Wendy didn’t say much to him, either, but she’d stare at him when he wasn’t looking, and Molly could see the curiosity in her gaze.

  When the men left for the barn after breakfast, she and her sisters started on the laundry. They unpacked the trunks, and managed to stack them in the loft, putting the clothing and personal items in various chests. Molly moved her things into Ash’s room, blushing all the while. They took a break in the middle of the day for Wendy and Annie to work on their lessons, while Molly started on the rolls for the next morning. With Wendy’s faint droning in the background, Molly couldn’t stop thinking about the hours she’d shared with Ash, and wondering if he’d want to do that every night.

  Now, if only she could convince her husband to love her as much as she was discovering she loved him…

  Chapter 13

  The days leading up to Christmas quickly settled into a routine, and Ash couldn’t be more pleased. When he’d first hired Molly, and discovered that she’d be bringing her two younger sisters, he dreaded what would happen with three extra bodies crammed into the cabin. But Molly had told him that while their childhood home had been much bigger, the three of them had been sharing an apartment slightly bigger than the loft for the last four years. To them, the cabin, with its separate bedrooms, kitchen, and living areas, seemed very spacious. Hearing that had made Ash proud; he’d worked hard on the house, and although he knew he’d need to expand it in the coming years—he was already plan
ning a bathing chamber off the back—it pleased him to know that his new family members liked it just the way it was.

  Even with the extra mouths, he and Nate were working less. They were able to just focus on the animals, and leave the house chores to the womenfolk. It sure was a treat to come in to a house smelling of cookies and ham, or pull on a soft, clean shirt.

  He was coming to know each girl a little better. Wendy couldn’t cook anywhere near as well as Molly, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy cleaning. It was like she took clutter as a personal affront, and attacked dirt with a vengeance; a useful girl to have around, Ash figured. She was orderly and studious, and seemed to be peering at a book whenever she was free from chores. But she had a sarcastic wit to rival Nate’s, and even made the boy laugh out loud once or twice. When the two of them started on a subject, there were sure to be chuckles all around, especially if Molly was signing for Annie.

  It was hard to say what Annie’s talents were, since she just seemed eager to please, and would do whatever chores Molly set her to. At first, they were hesitant to let her out of the house, especially when that storm that Ash had smelled on the way back from town hit. The snow was brutal, and quickly trapped them on the ranch. It was a good thing they’d gotten that last load of supplies, because it looked like they’d be there until the thaw. The snow that piled deep against the porch and the walls kept them well insulated, and they had to dig out the corral and barn.

  Annie wanted to learn to take care of the chickens, and once Molly determined that wearing both her winter coats should keep her warm enough for short periods, Nate gladly showed her how to feed the birds in the morning and afternoon, and make sure they got as much sun as possible to keep laying. It seemed to make the girl proud to bring in a few eggs every morning and evening.

  None of them realized that the girl wanted to do more, until, a few days after her arrival, she went missing. They were sitting down for dinner when Molly got tired of waiting and climbed the stairs to the loft. She hurried down a few seconds later: “She isn’t here!”

  The cabin wasn’t that big, and it didn’t take the four of them long to determine that she wasn’t anywhere in it or the outhouse. Ash met Molly’s eyes across the room and saw her panic. The snow had stopped, but it was still dangerous outside for any length of time, especially for a little girl like Annie. He and Nate nodded, and grabbed their coats on the way out. A few seconds later, Molly followed, pulling on her coat. She breathlessly explained that Wendy would wait in the house, in case Annie returned.

  Nate split off to check the coops and the water pump, while husband and wife continued towards the barn. Ash wanted to check there before he saddled horses to hunt for the girl in the surrounding drifts. He didn’t think she had much chance of surviving if she’d become disoriented and wandered away from the cleared areas of the ranch, and he knew that every minute counted.

  The horses turned towards them when he pulled open the door and they slipped through. It was a few steps into the barn, though, when he registered an odd noise; a sort of crooning coming from the rear. He exchanged glances with Molly, and they hurried in that direction.

  He had to put up a hand to stop his wife, though, when he reached the far stall. The stallion in there was one they’d name Brute, for his size and temperament. They hadn’t, in good conscious, sold him last year, since he wasn’t completely tame. He tolerated humans and the comfort they offered, but rarely let anyone to ride him. He was the horse that had thrown Ash, when the man underestimated him.

  And there, standing under Brute’s neck, stroking his shoulder and humming atonally to him, was delicate little Annie. Ash just about had a heart attack, before he realized that the horse was tolerating the girl’s presence. Tolerating, hell; he seemed to be enjoying it! When she stopped scratching, he jerked his head and let out a whinny that made her smile and concentrate on his thick winter coat. She looked perfectly at ease with the large animal.

  “How’d she know what to do with him? She spend a lot of time around horses in Chicago?”

  Molly’s whisper matched his, and he could tell how shaken she was. “She’s never been around them before in her life.”

  “Well, now…” A slow smile flickered across Ash’s face, and just like that, he gained a new ranch hand. He and Molly had a long discussion with Annie about how she’d handled Brute, and he asked her if she’d like to spend more time with the horses. The little girl’s face lit right up, and there were tears in her eyes when she emphatically nodded. He could tell that Molly wasn’t keen on the idea, and looked pretty disapproving while she translated; but Ash figured Annie could do some of the small jobs around the barn, the little things Ash and Nate didn’t have the time for. She could get used to the animals, and maybe build Molly’s confidence. If he was lucky, what Annie did today wouldn’t be a fluke, and she could prove to her sister that she could be trusted. Of course, he’d have to watch her for the first few months or so, but he figured Nate could teach her plenty too.

  It took some convincing on his part, and Nate’s excitement at the idea helped, but later that evening he got Molly’s okay on the idea. Starting on the day after Christmas, he’d introduce Annie to the horses and cow, and come up with a few chores the girl could start with. Molly only agreed to let her younger sister out of the house for so long because she was making Annie some mittens and a hat for Christmas, and figured the girl would be about as warm as she could make her. Ash didn’t really care what her reasoning was; as long as the girl wouldn’t get sick, and could be a help, he was glad to teach her a useful skill.

  Yeah, Ash was a pretty content man. He had a well-kept house, hearty and delicious meals, and a ranch with a future. He had his brother standing tall beside him, a wife that he loved, and two lovely young ladies to plan for that future. So how come he felt… strangely unfulfilled? Like there was something he was missing?

  It was the night after they’d discovered Annie’s talent, the night before Christmas Eve, when he realized what the problem was. He loved Molly, more than he’d thought it would be possible to love a woman, but she didn’t love him. At least, she’d given him no indication that she loved him, other than the tender way she cared for him; and hell, she treated Nate that way too.

  In fact, if it weren’t for the amazing way she came alive in his arms every night, he’d think she was still his housekeeper. Of course, if you’d asked him a month ago what a wife was, he would have said ‘a housekeeper you can make love to.’ And hooo-boy did he make love to Molly. He’d never had a woman so fulfilling in bed. She was gentle and wild, insatiable and generous, and if he hadn’t been in love with her before, he would’ve been lost the moment she climbed in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He’d never imagined a woman could match him so perfectly, and satisfy him so completely. He was content and happy with his new life, and it was all thanks to Molly.

  But it hurt him, someplace deep down in his stomach, to think that she didn’t love him the way he loved her. Of course, Ash knew that no self-respecting man would go around spouting off romantic drivel like that, so it was hard to even admit to himself. But yeah, he loved her, and she didn’t feel the same way in return.

  …Unless, maybe, she did? He groaned and rolled over in bed, pulling the pillow on top of his face so he wouldn’t wake her up. Hell, how did any man knew what was going on inside a woman’s head? Maybe she didn’t even know she loved him. Maybe if he told her his feelings, she’d tell him what she felt, what he wanted to hear?

  But how in the world was he supposed to admit how he felt to her first? He’d always considered himself a brave man, but the idea of confessing his love for her, only to receive disdain—or, oh God, even worse: pity!—in return made his stomach churn with fear.

  He struggled with the dilemma for the rest of the night, and through the next day. Everyone noticed that he wasn’t in a very good mood, and both Nate and Wendy teased him about it. Even their jokes couldn’t bring him out of his bad temper, and they l
eft him be. He could see Molly watching him with concern, but that made it even worse. Maybe she did love him? The only way he was going to know for sure was if he manned up, and told her his feelings.

  He was going to have to, in order to have any hope for the future with the woman he loved. His wife. He was going to have to sit her down and tell her how he felt, and hope that she was willing to love him in return. The not-knowing was cramping his stomach, and once he made the decision to do it, he had to find the right time. He didn’t want to just blurt it out, because then she might not think about it fully before responding. He would have to watch, and wait, for the perfect opportunity.

  For Molly, the twenty-fourth of December was a trial of patience. She was determined to make this Christmas something special, since it’d be their first one all together, and their first real celebration in many years. Nate was nearly as excited as Annie to learn all about the traditions and customs, and she was thrilled to share them. She’d been cooking for days, treats and special concoctions she knew or guessed they would like. The meal she was planning was sure to be a grand one.

  But for some reason, she just couldn’t get into the spirit of things on Christmas Eve. Perhaps it was the fact that Nate hung around the house most of the day, asking questions and interrupting her tasks; although it was hard to fault the boy for his excitement. It was more likely Wendy’s petty disagreements with him. The girl seemed to seek out ways to pick on Nate, which was difficult with someone of such good humor. But whereas Nate was usually good-natured, he seemed to lose all sense around Wendy; she could make him blush and stammer like a schoolboy, and Molly could see how much he hated that reaction.

  Molly finally threw her hands up and banished Nate to the barn and Wendy to the loft for a few hours. She quickly relented, though, when she realized how much more she needed to get done for the evening meal. The younger girl was quiet and moody, and Molly suspected she knew the reason. Wendy liked Nate, perhaps more than she thought she should, and compensated for the confusion she was feeling by teasing and heckling the young man. Molly had no idea how Nate felt about her sister, but knew that Wendy was going to have to come to terms with him, in order for them all to live comfortably.