Poor Boy's Christmas with Bonus Book

by Kathleen Ball

  “Albert sent you here, didn’t he?”

  “No. Like I said, he fled town when I told him I was carrying his babe. I suppose he found out I was a poor relation to my aunt. I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t give birth at my father’s farm. I was afraid for the baby.”

  “He wouldn’t have put a girl child out to die.”

  A tear trickled down her face. “You don’t know my father.” She shifted on the bed, giving him a glimpse of her bare back. She heard his loud gasp and quickly turned again, this time grabbing a sheet to cover her and Molly.

  “Damn his bloody soul!”

  “That’s what he said to me. It was my choice, which resulted in me carrying Albert’s child. I did this and I was punished for it.”

  His eyebrow arched. “You believe the punishment was just?”

  “The punishment yes, the way I was punished no,” she whispered.

  “Would you ever punish Molly like that?” he asked gently.

  She couldn’t look at him. “No, never. Thank you for helping me and I want you to know I’ll be gone as soon as I’m able. I’m guessing in two days.”

  “Ginger, look at me.” She gazed into his eyes and the kind understanding squeezed her heart. “It’s Christmas in a week. Stay here and we won’t have to celebrate alone.”

  She nodded but had no intention of imposing. In two days, she’d be fit to travel.

  Chapter Two

  Two days later, Foster gazed at his herd of horses. They were all accounted for and they looked well. The winter sky threatened yet another storm, and he hurriedly got as much hay to them as he could. They knew where their food came from at times like this, and he didn’t have to go far to find them. Amazing majestic creatures, his horses were.

  It had been bone-breaking work but he now had an Army contract for half his herd and most of those were saddle broke. A sense of pride ran through him. Things were looking good. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity, but it made him realize just how alone he’d been. The best part was Ginger’s smile and the look of wonderment and love she had whenever she gazed at Molly. Lucky girl was going to look just like her ma. Her red hair was already appearing. Hopefully she’d grow up without Albert’s blood showing through. That shiftless lying bastard.

  Ginger wasn’t at his place by accident. He didn’t buy that part of her story, but the rest rang true. He’d been gut kicked when he saw her back, full of scars. Some looked recent. How he wanted to strangle her father for putting his hands on her. It also scared him that he cared so much. He’d only met her and somehow she’d become important to him. His blood heated when he saw her. Her laughter was contagious and she was a kind and gentle mother.

  He shook his head. It’d be best not to think of her that way. It would only lead him down the path of heartache. He finished emptying the sleigh of hay and turned Dancer around. Leading him on foot, they made their way home. He turned his collar up and wrapped the scarf over the lower half of his face. Yes, a storm was brewing, and it looked to be a bad one.

  As they finally approached home, he saw lighted lamps. He chuckled. It had taken two days to convince her to use the lamps. She sure was frugal, a good trait for a wife. He swallowed hard. No more thinking about wives, she’d be gone soon.

  After tending to Dancer’s needs, Foster went inside. The warm cheerful atmosphere filled him. He’d never met a female who was happy before. The ones he’d come across always bemoaned their fate. Though he had to admit his mother had a right to be unhappy. Her husband was quick with his fists.

  “Good, you’re back. I have dinner ready for you,” Ginger said as she flashed him a smile.

  “You’re going to spoil me.” He took off his outer clothes and stretched his arms over his head. “The fierce cold tightens my muscles.”

  “Do you need me to help you?”

  He grew hard thinking about it, but he shook his head. “No, a hot meal is all I need.”

  “You’re easy to please.” She spooned up some stew and set it on the table. “Come sit and eat.”

  He nodded but first walked over to the crate and gazed at Molly. She sure was a beauty. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s eating well, and sleeping well. I’m taking it as a good sign.”

  Foster nodded and sat at the table. “This smells good.” He took a bite. “You’re a good cook.”

  “My father never thought so.”

  “Either he’s crazy or downright mean.”

  “Oh, I’d have to say he’s both.”

  He laughed then sobered. “I’m sorry. It couldn’t have been easy with a man like him.”

  She directed a sad smile his way. “I can’t change what was, but I can change how I will raise my daughter. I will never raise a hand to her.”

  “I believe you. You’re good with Molly.” His heart pinged as she colored prettily.

  “I’m trying to decide which direction to strike out tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I already told you I couldn’t stay long. We’re not your responsibility. Besides I bet you’re anxious to have your peace and quiet back.” She tried to look brave, but he saw how afraid she really was. She was right, he’d enjoyed his solitude, but having her and Molly around was nice.

  “You won’t be going far in the upcoming storm.”

  “Another storm? Walking through the snow isn’t easy. As soon as the storm is over I’ll be gone.”

  “Listen, Ginger, no rush.” He wished he had more to say. A compelling reason why she shouldn’t leave, but except for the storm all he had was she’d be safer, both she and the baby. “Christmas is in a few days, and I’d be honored to have you and Molly celebrate with me. I don’t have much, but I hate being alone on Christmas.” Patches meowed as if she echoed Foster’s words.

  She gazed into his eyes as though she was trying to read him. “Thank you for the offer. Are you a drinking man, Foster?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had a drink or two in my life. Usually I’m too busy to partake.”

  Again, she gazed into his eyes. “Holidays?”

  “Why all the questions? I don’t have anything in the house except for a bit of whiskey for emergencies. Medical emergencies. I’m not a drunk. I don’t spend my money on liquor. If that’s what you’re used to then, I’m sorry for you.”

  She dropped her gaze and nodded. “I’d be delighted to stay until right after Christmas.” Molly started fussing and Ginger hurried over to her. She cooed and sang to her as she fed her. This time he didn’t look. Instead, he got up and cleared the table.

  “I’ll do that when I’m done here.”

  “No trouble. I’m used to doing it. You relax and take care of that beautiful child of yours.” Her brow furrowed and she bit her bottom lip. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Not all men expect to be waited on.”

  “You’d be the first, Foster.” She smiled. “See, I’ve stopped tripping over your name. I feel so stupid at how fooled I was by your brother. I knew he was a no-good rat, but I never thought he’d give me a fake name.”

  “He’s probably on to another big city looking for another rich girl.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Ginger watched as Foster cleaned the dishes. He’d rolled up his sleeves and dark hair sprinkled his strong arms. So far, they had been protective and helpful arms. The thought of them around her made her shiver. At least he wasn’t prone to drink himself to sleep each night. He was like no other man she’d ever known.

  “What makes you so pensive? I hope you’re not worried about the storm.” Foster dried his hands with a towel and sat on a chair facing her. His dark hair had fallen boyishly across his forehead. He looked much younger that way.

  “No, I guess I’m not smart enough to be worried about the dangers. You’re different from other men.”

  He cocked his brow. “How so?”

  “You have gone out of your way to take care of me. If I was home, I’d
be expected to cook and clean.”

  “Even if you’d just given birth?”

  “Yes. The stew you made was the first time a man had cooked my dinner. Well, I did go to a restaurant in Chicago and I don’t know who cooked the meal but…”

  “I know what you mean. I didn’t know my real pa. Howard O’Donnell was the only pa I knew and he was the same way in his expectations. He worked my ma to death. He beat her and he sure knew how to make her cry. I promised myself I’d be a better man. I don’t need to be like him, we have no blood in common.” His brown eyes flashed with conviction. Her heart was already filled with love for Molly but whenever she looked at him, it seemed to want to expand to include him. She needed to guard her heart. No more men for her. Somehow, she’d make her own way.

  “This really is a lovely cabin.”

  Foster nodded. “It took a long while to build. I lived in the barn for months. My horses’ well-being comes first. They are going to help me make enough to have a great ranch. Maybe even a bigger house someday.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not looking to make it rich. I want a ranch to be proud of. Maybe even have a family someday. For now it’s just me and Patches.” He was quiet after that, as though he was lost in thought.

  “Do you think the storm will be bad?” she asked, already knowing the answer. The quiet unnerved her.

  “From how close to the house the horses are getting I’d say so. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. I have enough chopped wood for three months at least, and I tied a rope from the cabin to the barn so no one will get lost in case of snow blindness.”

  Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her. “You have a reassuring manner, Foster. The type of man who’s good in a crisis. I can shoot a gun, hunt, and ride. All out of necessity. Besides your brother, the only man I ever wanted to shoot was my father, but he’s not worth getting strung up for.”

  “Impressive you can do all those things. When you went to live with your aunt, were you hoping to find a rich husband with servants?”

  She laughed. “I’d shame any man by wanting to work side by side with the servants. My aunt dragged me out of the kitchen by my ear. She explained it wasn’t my place to be there. It was terribly boring until Albert came along. He understood everything about me, or so I thought. You can add gullible to my list of traits.” She frowned glumly.

  “Hey we all get mixed up in things that seem great at the time. It’s not your fault. The blame goes to Albert.” She glanced away. There was no way she could look at him. He’d be sure to see the lies in her eyes. She needed to tell him the truth of how she found his cabin. She wasn’t big on lies either.

  “Foster—”

  There was pounding on the door. Foster’s brow furrowed and he grabbed his shotgun. “Who is it?” he yelled.

  “Damn it, Foster, it’s freezing out here!” Her heart sunk. She knew that voice, it was Albert. Fear and surprise shot through her. What was he doing here? Her stomach clenched as a huge lump formed in her throat. Instinctively she grabbed Molly and held her close.

  Foster gave her an angry glare before he opened the door. “What do you want?”

  “Foster, it’s cold out here and a storm is a brewing. I thought I’d spend Christmas with you.” He pushed past Foster and stomped into the cabin. His eyes lit with speculation when he spotted her and the baby. “I see you found the place. How long have you been here?”

  “Found the place?” Foster shot her an angry, accusing glare. “I should have known. I have to hand it to you Miss Galway, you put on a fine performance. You really had me feeling bad for you.”

  “Foster—”

  “Save it, Ginger. You have nothing to say I want to hear. If it wasn’t snowing so bad I’d put you out.” He turned toward Albert. “So, what’s the plan? Get rid of me while you and your family take over my ranch?”

  “We’re not a family!” she insisted. The fury on Foster’s face scared her. “I thought this was his ranch. He talked about it enough and told me how to get here. When my father threw me out, it was the only place I knew to go. Believe me, I didn’t relish coming to the ranch of a man who threw me away, but I couldn’t take the chance my father would put my baby out in the snow.”

  “You told her this was your ranch? What the hell is going on?”

  Molly started to cry in earnest and nothing she did comforted her. She wasn’t hungry or wet.

  “Can’t you shut that brat up?” Albert sneered as he kicked at the cat.

  “Look, you low-down lying snake, my daughter is not a brat, and we were just fine without you.” She put Molly to her shoulder, lightly patting her back, but she still howled.

  Foster shook his head and held out his arms. “I’ll take her.” His eyes gentled. She handed Molly to him and watched as he cradled her in his strong arms. Molly stared at him and sighed contently. She settled down and when he held her to his shoulder she promptly fell asleep.

  “You’re so good with her.” Their gazes met, and she swore something connected between them.

  “Here, let me hold the brat.” Albert got close enough to Foster to start grabbing at Molly.

  “Step away from me and Molly, Albert, or I swear to God I’ll put you out. I really don’t care if you freeze or not. I don’t know what’s going on around here, but I’m going to get to the bottom of all this deception.”

  Albert turned and pinned her with a beady stare. “You called her Molly? All the Mollys I know are lowly house servants. You don’t have an ounce of class in you. If I weren’t under the mistaken notion you came from money, I’d never have given you a second glance. You looked and acted like a poor, inferior relation. There isn’t a regal bone in your body. I felt sorry for you, being so plain.”

  “That’s enough, Albert. Ginger is a guest in my house and you will stop insulting her.”

  “Don’t let her fool you, brother, she comes from trash. Her father is the town drunk. Said she was a virgin but there wasn’t much blood after I took her.”

  Her face heated as tears welled in her eyes. She’d been a virgin. It was the only gift she had to give a husband. She’d tried so hard to learn everything her aunt taught her, from sitting properly to eating barely anything in front of company. She didn’t know she was plain too. Being the town drunk’s kid was bad enough. There were so many strikes against her.

  “I think she’s fetching, and you don’t have to have money to have class. My mother said those words many times.”

  “Your mother was a used up piece—”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Foster warned as he gently set Molly into Ginger’s arms. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” His voice was deceptively calm.

  “Fine, Ginger, get Molly ready to go.” Albert smirked. “That child is mine, and I’m taking her with me.”

  “If that’s what you want, Albert. I guess you’re here to make good on your promise to marry me.” She held her head high and looked him right in the eye. “Where will we live? Do you have a job lined up?”

  He blanched. “A job?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Albert? You have a low opinion of me and you didn’t want the baby. What game are you playing now?”

  He stared at her for a long time then smiled. “The game we dreamed of, my sweet. The one where we take the ranch for ourselves. Why else would we be here? Is it my fault you’re not playing your part? I guess you decided you’d rather have Foster than me.”

  She gasped. “Foster, open the door and push him out.”

  “Gladly, but I need to figure out what’s going on around here.”

  He knew his voice was rather sharp, but he didn’t have it in him to be nice at the moment. He should have trusted his gut and never gotten to know Ginger. He’d become used to them being there, even if it had been a short time. He liked the way her eyes lit up when she saw him, or the special way Molly snuggled against his shoulder when he held her. They belonged to another and it made it even worse that it was Albert. How he hated the man. H
e always lorded it over him, he was the real son and Foster just an extra stray. The damned man he called father was just as bad, making Foster work from sun up to sundown while Albert went to school.

  Albert had the best clothes while he wore cast offs. He didn’t care at first. His mother seemed happy until the first time his father struck her. He ran all the way to town to get the sheriff but was instantly laughed out of the jailhouse. Somehow, his father already knew he’d gone to the sheriff. When he got home he got his first whipping while Albert watched, smirking.

  “Albert, you’ve never done an honest day’s work in your life. Don’t bother looking for any money. I don’t keep it here. I have it safe in the bank where you’ll never get it. Don’t even bother with the next of kin claim. You are of no blood of mine and I already had papers drawn up in the event of my death. So, you might as well go. I’d tell you to take your woman and child but the weather is getting worse.”

  Albert paled and turned toward Ginger. “Just how much did you tell him, my sweet?”

  The anger on Ginger’s face surprised him. “You no-good scoundrel. The only thing you ever told me was where the ranch was. A ranch I believed you owned, Foster. I will forever berate myself for being so stupid to believe you. You ruined my life when you ran away like the coward you are. My father threatened to put the baby out into the snow to die. Where did you go? Did you find another woman to shame?” Tears ran down her face and she tried to wipe them away but they kept coming.

  “If you must know, I spent the last months with a wealthy widow. At least she knew how to please a man.”

  Foster stepped between them. “Not another word, Albert. It was bad enough you seduced her and left her, but the things you are saying will not be tolerated any longer. Understood?” It was getting harder not to punch him in the face. Perhaps Ginger was telling the truth after all. It made no real difference in the end. She couldn’t be trusted either.