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

by Caroline Lee

  Little Eddie wasn’t in the store today—probably at his apprenticeship with Mr. King the carpenter—but Rojita Cutter was sorting through a stack of children’s primers. When the other red-headed woman gave a little wave to acknowledge Rose, Arabella turned to see who’d entered the bookstore.

  “Oh, happy Christmas Eve, Rose! It’s good to see you again!”

  “Happy Christmas, Mrs. Bellini,” Rose replied, a little shyly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your festivities.”

  Arabella made a shooing motion with her free hand, and then shelved the last book she held just as her husband finished the last clear note. Rose inhaled, wondering if she could capture the taste of the missing music along with the cinnamon from the small tree decorated in the corner. “Darling, Rose White has come to visit us. She’s wearing the most beautiful green jacket, and her lovely red hair is flowing all around her shoulders.”

  Vincenzo smiled, and sat down in one of the fancy chairs Arabella had arranged in that corner. “Good. You know that’s the loveliest a woman can appear.”

  Arabella’s blush at her husband’s teasing matched Rose’s. She was always a little uncomfortable at the way Vincenzo required people described to him, but she supposed that it made sense if he wanted to hold a picture in his mind.

  So maybe she sounded a little rushed when she said, “I’m just here to return Black Bart’s Revenge, and thank you for allowing me to borrow it for so long this time. We enjoyed it.”

  “We?” Oh, dear, she hadn’t meant for Arabella to pick up on that. “Has Snow started to read your books now, too?”

  Rose just smiled weakly, hoping it looked like she was agreeing, and changed the subject. “Are you ready for the festivities tonight?” She’d promised Snow that she’d stop by the train depot this morning before heading to the church to help prepare. Her sister was getting anxious about the shipment of satin embroidery floss she was expecting, and apparently couldn’t complete her waiting orders without it, which would mean much less money than the family needed for the next month. So Rose had happily volunteered to check on the shipping schedule when she was in town this morning. “I know that this will be a lovely celebration.”

  “I heard you and your sister were helping with the decorations?” Rojita ambled over, carrying three primers. At Rose’s nod, she smiled. “Then I’m sure it’ll be lovely. You two have a special touch when it comes to ribbons and bows and making things beautiful.”

  Rose wanted to defend her sister, to tell these friendly ladies that it was Snow who had the special touch, and that Rose just did what she was told when it came to arranging things. She could imagine a whole story, and write out all the details and plot…but she was hopeless when it came to arranging a fine household. But, since Snow had long ago asked Rose to keep her secret about her special talent, and Rose had agreed, today she just smiled weakly again at the compliment.

  “Do you want another book to read, since you both enjoyed this one?” Arabella moved towards the shelf of dime novels Rose enjoyed, tempting her.

  “I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t…” Borrowing such books was a frivolous expense Mama would never approve of, but she did love them.

  “Oh, for goodness sakes.” Vincenzo’s booming voice startled them all. “Lend the girl as many as she can carry, and I’ll pay for them. It’s Christmastime!”

  Arabella laughed, and Rose blushed, but moved towards the shelf of books she knew and loved so well. “Thank you, Signore. There is one that I’d like to re-read.” Bear would enjoy reading Captain Reasinger’s later adventures, and it was one of her favorites.

  Rojita had carried her purchases over to the little table where Arabella kept her ledgers. “And I’ll take these three, Arabella. Blue and the twins are ready for their next level, but Tom Tucker and Jack Horner have positively ruined their primers, so they can’t be passed down. It might not be the most exciting Christmas present, but they’re needed.”

  The door opened and let in a burst of flurry-laden wind that swirled Rose’s skirt and curls.

  “Red? Are you hiding in here?”

  Rose might not have immediately recognized the man bundled under the scarf and thick coat, but his loud question and Rojita’s corresponding squeal left no doubt that this was Sheriff Cutter, returned at last from the mountains north of Granger. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach that came with the realization that she was going to have to make a decision soon about Bear, as she watched the happy couple reunite.

  There was hugging and kissing, and the Sheriff even spun his petite red-headed wife around once. He was obviously pleased to be home.

  And Rose wasn’t the only one who could tell. Even without eyesight, Vincenzo had been chuckling. “Well, Sheriff, I’d say this will be a merry Christmas for you, eh?”

  “You’d be right, Signore. I sure am glad to get back to Red and the orphans. A man can only take so much sleeping on the frozen ground.” Rose’s wondered how many times Bear had slept on the ground, and if he’d ever been cold. He was certainly large enough—and hairy enough—to stay warm, but she had to wonder.

  “Were you successful? Did you catch the bandits?”

  Sheriff Cutter pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his grey-tinged dark hair. “Nah. The Quigg gang don’t make big scores, but they don’t have to, if they keep this up. And this time, they took out a lawman.”

  Arabella gasped. “They did?” at the same time Rose felt her heart sinking. She had a name for Bear’s gang of ruffians; the Quigg gang. Moreover, she knew the truth now.

  She could never have a future with a man who killed a lawman. Bear and his compatriots were murderers, and she was just as guilty, for not turning him in. Ashamed, she pushed the dime novel back into the shelf, anxious to be far away from Sheriff Cutter before he could sense her guilt.

  The others were still chatting, likely discussing the dead lawman, but Rose didn’t stop to hear the details. She didn’t think she could bear it. Instead, she slipped out the door without saying her goodbyes, and the only one who noticed her leave was Vincenzo, who turned his face towards the door when the bell tinkled softly. She was thankful that he wasn’t able to see her expression, because she was sure it was as sickly as she felt now.

  Hurrying down Andersen Avenue, Rose tried to focus on the train depot. Hopefully Snow’s package would be arriving today, because she needed a little bit of good news. From here she’d join her sister at the church to help hang the bows and wreaths, and then lay out the food for the evening’s celebrations.

  And the whole time, she’d have to keep her chin high and hope no one would notice that her heart was breaking. Because she couldn’t have a future with a murderer. Couldn’t have a future with a thoughtful and polite man who believed in her dreams, and also happened to be a hell-bound outlaw.

  No matter how much she might love him.

  Chapter 9

  This was it. Christmas Eve. Today was the day he had to get into town, no matter what his sorry hide thought about it. Bear gritted his teeth, and used the railing around the pig pen to hobble a little farther. He’d named the remaining animals over the last two weeks, and when the fattest one snorted at him like she was laughing, Bear glared. “You shut up, Stinky. I’ll be gone long before you’re made into bacon.”

  But dang, he was weaker than he’d hoped he’d be when the time came. And everything hurt. But he’d been laid up in this barn longer than he should’ve been, and today was Christmas Eve. What he’d overheard from the Quigg gang told him that tonight would be the time they’d hit Everland, if they were still planning on it. The smart thing would’ve been to ask Rose to find a lawman and bring him back here, but how could he do that without explaining everything to her? And then once she knew that, how certain could he be that she wouldn’t reveal too much to the lawman she found? And if she was overheard and word got back to the Quigg gang, she’d be in all kinds of danger…and he would be absolutely useless at protecting her, laid up like h
e was here in her barn.

  No, Bear had to get himself into town, to find a lawman, and warn him in person. Heck, he should’ve gone yesterday, or the day before, but he hadn’t been able to drag himself away from Rose. Not with the way she spent hours with him every afternoon, snuggled up beside him as they read to each other and talked about every topic under the sun.

  Every topic except the most important; who he was, and what he was doing in her barn.

  It was amazing how close two people could become while ignoring something like that.

  He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring—although he kind of hoped it would involve an actual bed and a hot meal—but the time had come to find out. And after he met with whatever lawman Everland boasted, after he telegraphed his superiors, he’d figure out what to tell Rose. What he could tell her that didn’t involve losing her for lying.

  Bear took another few lurching steps. Walking was getting easier, thanks to his daily exercise, but it didn’t hurt any less. He wondered if he’d ever be able to walk without pain. A draft made him look down, and remember that he was still prancing around in just a sliced-up pair of long johns. His pants were neatly folded by his makeshift bed, and he’d have to figure out how to get them on past the bandage Rose had wrapped neatly around his leg yesterday afternoon.

  Thinking about the way her hands had felt on his thigh, Bear figured that maybe some things could ache more than his wound. Being that close to her for so many days, feeling her skin against his, had been the best kind of torture he could’ve imagined. If blasted Quigg and his blasted gang hadn’t been looming over Bear’s shoulder, he figured he could probably sit right here beside this pig sty until Easter, if it meant seeing her every day.

  The barn door creaked, and all of his senses instantly went on the alert. Was it Rose coming back, or someone else? Usually she just stepped inside, but this time—? He cursed himself silently for leaving his guns way over by the woodpile.

  Frozen, he watched the door slowly swing open, followed by a woman’s rear end. She was muttering to herself, dragging something backwards into the barn. The gentleman in him would’ve jumped to help her, but he was still too surprised at the sight. Besides, his bum leg meant he couldn’t do most of what he wanted—or needed—to do.

  Whoever she was, she kicked the door shut and kept backing up. Bear realized she was dragging a big trunk, like the kind a lady might travel with. Was she storing it in the barn, or moving in with him in these dubious accommodations?

  She still hadn’t seen him, judging from her mutterings. He really should help her, but he couldn’t, so he settled for calling politely, “Ma’am? Do you require assistance?” If she said yes, he’d figure out how to hobble over there.

  Instead of shocking her, though, his call seemed welcome. She was smiling when she straightened, putting her hands in the small of her back and stretching. She was fairly young, with straw-straight blonde hair and owlish pale eyes behind spectacles, and didn’t look a thing like Rose. Still, he had to assume that this was Snow, the sister she’d mentioned a few times.

  “Thank you, but I’m…I’m…ahhhh…” The visitor’s face contorted, and Bear was already lurching for her, thinking to help, when she let loose a volley of furious sneezes right in a row. The woman groped for a handkerchief to try to catch the sneezes, but it didn’t seem to help. “I’m sorry, I thought that the snow would’ve—ahhhh-choo!—cut back on—ahh-choo!—hay fever, I think.” It was Christmas. Whatever was making this woman sneeze, it wasn’t hay fever. The moldy straw in the back corner, maybe? “I can’t stand these blasted—aaahh-choo! Ahh-choo! Aaaaaaahhhh-choo!”

  Another furious fit of sneezing—during which Bear was glad his beard hid his smile, because he sure couldn’t contain it—the woman finally subsided, and straightened once more. Her eyes were watery, and her nose red, when she offered him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Sometimes they just come on me like that. I’m Suzy, but the others call me—well, their nickname isn’t quite as nice.”

  Bear couldn’t help himself. “Is it ‘Sneezy’?”

  Suzy glared. “I said it wasn’t very nice.”

  “So you did. The ‘others,’ Miss Snee—Suzy?”

  “Suzy is fine,” she sniffed. “The other Godmothers, of course. The guild is based here in Everland. Usually we help the ladies, but since dear Rose has things under control—even if she is a little misguided—I’m here to help you.”

  Bear had stopped listening at godmothers. Did she honestly expect him to believe that? That there was a group of ladies who went around helping people? Sounded more like an excuse to meddle, if anyone had asked him. Still, he managed not to snort in disbelief, and to look at least semi-interested when she turned those spectacles his way.

  She seemed to be waiting for a response. “Oh, good?”

  Her bright smile made him feel a little low, for doubting her, but she immediately launched into a flurry of sneezes that made him sigh and lean his good hip again against the railing while he waited. She just waved one hand at him and turned slightly away, her face buried in her handkerchief, as if asking him to hold on a moment.

  Finally, she sniffled once or twice, nodded firmly, and muttered, “That had better be the last of them,” and tried for another smile. “Well, what are you doing, still over there, Barrett? Hop on over, and we’ll get you all set up.”

  How had she known his name? “All set up for what?”

  “For your grand adventure this evening, silly! It’s Christmas Eve, have you forgotten? The big celebration is at the church tonight, and Rose will be there, of course. And of course, there’s the fact that the Quigg gang will be attacking at nine.”

  Bear began to move as soon as she said the name Quigg. “What do you know about the gang?” He didn’t need his guns to intimidate someone the size of Suzy.

  But to his surprise, she just looked at him curiously, her head cocked to one side. “Godmother, Barrett, remember? We know all sorts of things.”

  “Like classified information about the habits of criminals?” He was looming over her now, but she just smiled and patted his chest.

  “Yes, exactly like that.” Another pat. “My, you’re certainly fit, aren’t you? No wonder Rose likes you so much. She already—ahh-choo!” She sneezed on his chest, but Bear was too confused to be concerned. What the heck was going on? “Sorry. Anyhow, we’d better get started.”

  “Started on what?”

  “On making you presentable, of course. Heroic, even. Here.” She turned towards the trunk, and lifted the top in such a way that he couldn’t see inside, and pulled out a chair. A full chair, big enough to support his weight, and far too large to have fit inside that trunk. She set it down beside him with a flourish. “Go on, sit, Barrett. I can tell your leg is still paining you, even though it’s healing. Ahh-choo! Excuse me. It is healing, by the way. You won’t be able to walk without a limp, but you’ll be able to walk, at least.”

  Bear struggled to take in her flow of words. “Oh, good.” He sunk into the impossible chair she’d offered. “That’s good, right?” How could she know that about his future, if he wasn’t sure?

  But Suzy just sent him a look that made him feel like he was in school again, and then sniffled her way over to the trunk again. This time she lifted out shaving implements and a basin of warm water. He could see the steam rising from it. How had she managed to keep a bowl of hot water from tipping over inside the trunk? “Here you go, Barrett.” She set up a little mirror. “I’m assuming that you can manage to shave yourself, right? I think it’s time Rose see what she’s really getting, under that beard.” Shave off his beard? His disbelief must’ve shown, because she rolled her eyes behind the spectacles. “At least trim it down a bit, so you don’t look quite so much like a bear.”

  He snorted, but took the razor. After, he had to admit that, even with the long black jacket, he looked a heck of a lot less like a dangerous outlaw, and more like a man who might be allowed to court a pretty little a
uthor. Suzy whisked away the shaving implements, and brought out another basin of hot water, some soap, and a rag, along with a folded bundle. “I’ll leave these here, Barrett, while I go outside and hum loudly. Maybe my allergies won’t be so bad out there.” From the number of times she’d sneezed since being in the barn, Bear didn’t think there was much hope of that. “Go on and give yourself a wash. You might not look like a bear anymore, but you sure smell like one. There are new long johns there,” she pointed to the stack of clothing on top of what Bear was fast believing was a magical trunk, “And some trousers. Do hurry. It’s going to take you an hour to hobble into town.”

  While she stood outside—and yeah, Bear heard her sneezing almost constantly—he made short work of washing and changing. It sure felt good to be clean again. Yeah, he had to rely on the chair more than he used to, but that was a combination of his tricky leg not supporting nearly enough weight, and the fact that he was still weaker than a day-old kitten.

  “Are you—ahhhh-choo!—Sorry. Decent? Are you decent?”

  No matter what hocus-pocus Suzy used, it was hard to take her seriously. Bear slammed the lid of the trunk closed—of course he’d peeked inside, and had been surprised when it looked so normal—and turned to the door. “Yeah, I’m clean and dressed. Now what?”

  “Now what, what?” She hurried inside, wiping her nose. “We’ve got to get you into town.”

  His leg still hurt from hobbling over from the pig sty railing. “How? In that magic box of yours?” The sarcasm in his voice was mostly for show.

  “No.” She was giving him that look from behind her spectacles that reminded him of Miss Peachly, the schoolmarm back home. “No, Barrett. You can’t fit in my trunk.” Without looking, she lifted the lid just far enough to reach inside and pull out a cane. Bear’s brows lifted. He could’ve sworn that thing was empty when he’d looked inside a moment ago. “This is a cane. A caaaaane, Barrett. Do you know what a cane is?”