Sullivan's Ridge: A Christmas Tale Page 4

  She glanced at his face, and saw that he was staring down at their joined hands. At the gold wedding band. She quickly withdrew her hand and hid it in the folds of her skirt, embarrassed. “Will you help me?”

  “Ma’am, I can’t remember the last time I celebrated Christmas like that.”

  “Me either. That’s why I want to do it this year.”

  “What about Mr. Lane? How do you celebrate with him?”

  Shoot. The man would keep coming back to her pretend husband, wouldn’t he? “I’ve never celebrated Christmas with him before, I don’t know his preferences.” She quickly changed the subject. “But I know what I want! Will you help me?”

  The lantern was flickering, but there was still enough illumination to watch his eyes. Those beautiful eyes, which showed everything he felt. She saw confusion, and then pity, and then acceptance. A slow, wry grin crept across his lips.

  “Yes ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  She couldn’t help but hear a second meaning in those words, and knew she blushed. Was it her imagination, or did his grin grow a bit?

  This Christmas was going to be an interesting one.

  The days that followed were a new experience for Nick. He had never seen anyone throw themselves into preparation for a holiday with such abandon. It was like Connie was trying to forget her pain, and embraced the frantic celebrations in the hopes of pushing it away.

  Nick carried the trunks into the parlor the day after Connie had found them, but she insisted on preparing the house before they unpacked them. Over the next several days, he helped her and Maggie scrub the house and move furniture to suit her whims. This time of year, there wasn’t much that needed doing out on the range anyhow, and he jumped at the chance to spend more time with Connie. He was discovering—much to his surprise—that he’d gladly stand on a ladder to dust rafters if it meant getting one of those smiles from her. Since he and Billy had been in charge of the house, there was quite a lot of grime that had collected in corners and behind furniture. Neither of them had possessed the inclination—or the time—to scour the hard-to-reach spots. But he discovered there was something satisfying about finishing chores, turning the few ranch jobs over to Red, and attacking the study floorboards with a scrub brush.

  Finally, when everything was just so, Connie declared it was time to unpack the trunks. She invited all of the hands in to help, and they gladly finished up their chores to be part of the excitement. It was an experience Nick would never forget. The woman could go from laughter to tears and back again in a blink of an eye, as she pulled out cherished treasures. She seemed to enjoy telling each item’s story, and they all laughed over some of her memories.

  For Nick, it was intriguing. The chance to spend a full day not doing anything useful… just fun. For as long as he could remember, his life had been ordered by work and jobs and responsibilities. It was an interesting experience to spend the day just relaxing with… with friends.

  He’d been working hard for years, since he left Wyoming. It’d taken him a year or so to make his way to the Montana Territory, working various ranching jobs along the way. Then he’d met Billy, and taken the job at Sullivan’s Ridge, and had worked hard to make it a success. But even before he’d left home, he’d rarely had a chance to spend a day doing nothing.

  His older brother ran the family farm now, with his sister Becky and her family nearby. They’d all worked the land since they were young, but Nick had never liked it. He wanted the chance to ride, to herd, and when his sister’d finally married a local boy who jumped at the chance to farm the Anderson land, Nick had said his goodbyes. His brother hadn’t been happy about it, but recognized that unlike their father, Nick would never be happy behind a plow.

  He missed them all, still, especially his sister and his brother’s wife’s cooking. He’d help her with the dinners, sometimes, which is why he’d been put on kitchen duty at Sullivan’s Ridge. He had close to a dozen nieces and nephews last time he counted, and they all loved their Uncle Nick. Becky’s weekly letters kept him up to date on their shenanigans. He hadn’t been home in almost two years, since their mother’s funeral, but hadn’t forgotten how much fun little kids were.

  Joshua was no exception. The kid was full of energy, and it was fun to watch his excitement as he was allowed to unpack some of the less-delicate Christmas treasures. When Red lifted him up on his wide shoulders, to hang garland over the mantle, Joshua squealed with delight. Maggie had tears in her eyes, watching her son’s joy.

  Red had asked the petite woman to marry him that very first night. She’d been shocked, but Red had explained that in this part of the country, marriageable women were few and far between, and she’d have a dozen offers before the week was out. Red said she’d blushed, but had given him permission to court her. He said he was going to give her ‘til Christmas, and ask again. Nick, knowing the Irishman’s determination and impatience, thought that was pretty reasonable.

  So now, Red was doing his best to impress Maggie, and seemed to be having fun playing with Joshua. In fact, they all were having fun playing with Joshua, and the beautiful decorations. Nick helped Maggie make a large breakfast in the late morning, and they all sat down to enjoy it. Timmy and Old Abe joined them. They spent the afternoon with more unpacking, a batch of Maggie’s muffins, whiskey for the men, and much laughter.

  It didn’t feel like a job, or Connie their boss…. It felt like a family.

  After dinner, that night, Nick made them all a batch of hot cocoa, which he remembered had been Billy’s favorite drink to share with his daughter. Everyone helped themselves, and he poured her a mug. But when she didn’t come into the parlor to drink it, he picked it up and went looking for her.

  He found her out on the porch, gently rocking in her father’s swing. He almost turned back around, but she called his name, and gestured him to join her. He glanced back inside, and decided that, in the spirit of camaraderie the day had fostered, he would.

  “Here. I brought you some cocoa.” He handed it to her, and stood awkwardly, hands in his pockets, until she scooted over and patted the swing beside her.

  She took a sip. “Mmmm… Papa’s stash. I never did find out where he got it from.”

  “The general store in town ships it in just for him.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes more, the cold seeping into their bones. Nick was wearing only his usual undershirt and flannel, but it looked like Connie had grabbed some kind of shawl before coming out. He crossed his arms to stay warm.

  She noticed, and sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. We should go in.”

  “Nah, it’s OK. It’s not too cold, yet.” He sniffed and smiled crookedly. “We’ll get snow soon enough.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, can’t you smell it? This time tomorrow, maybe. This might be your last chance to sit out here ‘til spring.”

  She sipped her cocoa and smiled slightly. “Then I’d better enjoy it.” She was quiet for another minute or so, watching the sky. Nick found himself watching her from the corner of his eye.

  In the semi-darkness, he could see the curve of her chin, the way the curls framed her face just so. He watched her breath escape in little puffs, and imagined what it would feel like to caress those cheeks, to kiss those lips.

  The fact that she was married didn’t seem to matter to him anymore. He knew it should. He knew that he was betraying her father’s trust, and his own honor, by thinking these thoughts about her. If her husband were here—whatever his name was—he’d have every right to call him out for thinking about his wife this way. But Nick couldn’t seem to make himself care.

  The more time he spent in her presence, the more he liked her. He liked her strength. He liked her determination, her drive and her intelligence. He liked the way she felt so deeply, but tried so hard to hide her emotions behind a ladylike façade. He liked her laughter, and teasing, and joy for life. There wasn’t anything about her he
didn’t like.

  Like? Hell, he was beginning to think he loved the woman.

  She took another sip of the cocoa, and the starlight glinted off the gold ring on her left hand. A sobering reminder that he was a fool to even consider falling in love with her.

  He wanted to curse at himself for sitting out here. For continuing to torment himself. He stood to leave, and was surprised when she did as well.

  Without looking at him, she walked to the porch railing, and stood peering up at the sky. He couldn’t help drifting after her any more than a moth could ignore a lantern.

  “I used to spend hours out here, lying on my back, looking at the stars. I haven’t really looked at them since I left for St. Louis. But seeing them here, the way I remember, the same patterns… it seems like I’m finally at home.”

  His hands shoved deep into his pockets, he didn’t know how to respond. “I guess they looked different in St. Louis, huh?”

  “Nowhere near as beautiful.”

  They stood for a moment more, until he unlimbered one arm, and pointed. “Did you see that shooting star?”

  She’d turned towards him slightly, and the light from the parlor window played across her face. He saw that earth-shattering, beautiful grin, but her eyes were closed. She whispered. “Shh, I’m making a wish.”

  And so he did, too. It was useless to wish for what he couldn’t have, so he just wished that he would have the strength to do what needed to be done.

  There was no way he’d be able to stay here at Sullivan’s Ridge with Connie so close, and know that he couldn’t court her. There was no way he’d be able to sit by quietly, pretending to be pleased, when David Daniel Lane showed up to run the place. There was no way he was going to be happy here.

  Nick was going to have to leave.

  Connie was up early the next morning, invigorated by the day before. She didn’t bother to wake Maggie, but dressed and secluded herself in her father’s study to go over the books and the supplies for the winter ahead. If Nick was right, and it started snowing tonight, they’d have to be prepared.

  The cattle had been grazing on the rough grasses that had made it through the fall, but with snow cover, it was doubtful they’d be foraging again until the melt. The animals had been gorging themselves all summer, so they wouldn’t need much to make it through the winter, unless it was exceptionally harsh. It was during this time that they’d feed the cattle the hay bales and straw they’d harvested and purchased with the money from the last drive.

  Luckily, the men had herded the cattle closer to the ranch, so they wouldn’t have to travel far to feed them, if need be. There was a large group that would find shelter down along the river, and another up by the ridge. There were smaller groups spread throughout, but if the snow hid their forage, they’d make their way back. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask Nick to see about them.

  She spent an hour going over their hay reserves, and doing some calculating based on the head of cattle, how much they would eat, and how long the winter would last. Even if the predicted snow was the first of many, since it had waited until so late in the year, they should be able to make it through the winter with little concern. She smiled and silently thanked her Papa for being such a great planner.

  She had a map of Sullivan’s Ridge open in front of her, and was poring over the locations of the shelter the cattle might find, when Maggie bustled into the room carrying a tray. She placed the bowl of porridge beside Connie, poured a cup of tea from an heirloom silver pot, and stirred in some milk. Connie thanked her with a smile.

  Maggie started to leave, but then turned back. “I’ve just remembered, Timmy asked if he could speak with you this morning.”

  She looked down at her porridge, and said “Give me fifteen minutes or so to eat breakfast, and then send him in.”

  The young man’s timing was perfect; she was just draining her cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. When she called out for him to enter, Timmy pushed his way in. He was there to ask permission to visit his family, who lived almost a day’s ride away. Apparently his father had broken his leg, and Timmy was needed at home for the foreseeable future. Connie assured him that they’d be able to manage without him for a while, and sent him on his way with best wishes for his father’s recovery and a happy Christmas.

  With breakfast and business behind her, she emerged to a beautiful day. Absolutely stunning. Cold, crisp and clear… the perfect day to choose a Christmas tree. She decided to do just that.

  She found Red in the kitchen, sweet-talking Maggie, as usual. Connie assumed there’d be a wedding soon enough, with the blushes her friend was sending her suitor. The big Irishman straightened when she entered, and nodded respectfully.

  “Good morning, Red.” She smiled brightly. “Do you and the men—” she emphatically did not say Nick’s name, “have any plans for the day? Any projects?”

  “No ma’am. This time o’ year, most o’ our work is done before noon. I had Timmy muck out the last few stalls, an’ then let him talk to you about leaving.”

  She nodded. Her decision made, Connie asked him to invite Nick and Abe on an outing. “It shouldn’t take too long; maybe we could bring more of Maggie’s biscuits?” The other woman nodded. “Red, will you get the wagon ready while we prepare Joshua?”

  They hustled about, dressing the boy in warm clothing and packing snacks, but still the men were ready long before. They emerged from the house to find Red seated on the bench of the wagon, and Nick holding the reins of two magnificent quarter horses.

  Just seeing him again made her stomach flutter. Tall, straight, and proud, his hat pushed back high on his forehead, and bundled in a sheepskin coat, he was just about the most handsome thing she’d ever seen. He was wearing gloves—as were they all—but those strong hands brought back the memory of him washing the dinner dishes. Him standing there in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, water droplets glistening on the small hairs on his forearm, thick hands caressing the delicate china. She couldn’t help but imagine what those tanned hands would feel like, cupping her cheeks or stroking her bare skin.

  She didn’t quite let out a whimper, but knew her face was hot from the memory.

  When she stepped off the porch, she couldn’t help the way her feet took her towards him. She stopped by the horses’ heads, reaching up to pet one long nose.

  “Where is Abe? Will he be joining us?”

  “Nah, he’s sleeping. He says that he’s old, so he needs to hibernate in the winter.” Nick chuckled.

  She turned to him with brows raised. If Abe wasn’t coming, who were the horses for?

  It was like he knew what she was asking, and flushed slightly before shrugging and turning away. “Billy always bragged about your riding. I know you haven’t been since you’ve been back, so I dunno if you still like to… But I thought you might….”

  She couldn’t help smiling brightly, not just at his unexpected sweetness, but at the thought of riding again. She rode in St. Louis, of course, but it was nothing on riding on the range! Luckily, she’d worn a pair of trousers under her petticoats for warmth.

  She touched his arm to draw his attention, and loved the way his lips curved up in response to her smile. “Thank you, Nick. I would love to ride again!”

  She pulled herself into the saddle—when was the last time she’d been allowed to do that?—and smiled widely at the man beside her. In fact, she couldn’t help smiling at everything that day. Nick took the time to point out interesting details on their ride, or changes and improvements they’d made to Sullivan’s Ridge.

  Red drove the draft horses pulling the wagon, with Maggie and Joshua perched beside him proudly. They made their way towards the ridge, to a small patch of evergreens Connie remembered. She and her Papa had always come here for their Christmas trees, and the trees had grown much taller in the last eight years. They arrived, ate a snack, and set about choosing a tree.

  Not surprisingly, Maggie and Red disappeared into the grove after a
few hurried words to Joshua, and Nick scooped the boy up onto his shoulders. Seeing his ease with the child, his gentle manner, brought a lurch to Connie’s heart, and that flutter back to her stomach.

  She knew what it meant. She was attracted to Nick on all levels. She couldn’t remember ever meeting a more handsome man, and there wasn’t a single aspect of his personality she didn’t like. He was kind, and honorable, and strong, and sweet, and everything she’d want in a man. And he was attracted to her, at least a bit, judging by his reaction in the loft.

  So why was she persisting in her plot to hold him off? Because she knew what would happen if she confessed that she wasn’t married; she would throw herself at him, and disgrace herself thoroughly. And that would be a dangerous thing for a lone woman to do with one of her employees. It would completely undermine any authority she’d hope to have, and start tongues wagging.

  But if there was anyone she’d want to disgrace herself with, it would be Nick Anderson. She hadn’t known him for too long—if she didn’t count her Papa’s constant updates—but she trusted him completely. She knew she—and her reputation—would be safe in his arms.

  So maybe she should just throw caution to the wind, and herself into his embrace?

  There was a way that this could work, that she could have Nick. She could marry him. Then, he wouldn’t be an employee, and she wouldn’t have to worry about her authority. He would be a good match for Sullivan’s Ridge—Papa had hinted that often—and he was definitely a good match for her.

  But it wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t just marry him. He still thought that she was married to another man, to begin with. And maybe he didn’t even want to marry her; maybe he didn’t want to be married at all! It was all well and good if she confessed to her lies and offered to marry him and he agreed and proposed… But what if she bared her heart like that to him, and he turned her down? Then she’d be back in the position of his boss, but with her authority severely undermined by her faux pas.