A Coulter’s Christmas Proposal

by Lois Faye Dyer

  Amanda took the papers from him and quickly glanced through them. “They seem fairly straightforward,” she commented, quickly signing on the line above her typed name. “I assume I don’t need to do anything with my original?” she asked, leaving her chair to place one set of the documents on the workbench’s smooth surface, next to the sculpture. “Other than tucking it into a file in my office?”

  “I don’t believe so,” he told her. “But I’ll ask the attorney, if you want me to.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Her hazel gaze met his, curiosity on her expressive face. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me why you insisted my book doesn’t include comments on your family after the date of your mother’s death?”

  “No, I don’t suppose I would,” he told her.

  She contemplated him for a moment, studying his face. Apparently, his expression was as unreadable as he’d hoped, because she sighed with disappointment.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Her gaze moved to the eagle sculpture. “This reminds me of your mother’s sketch in the first journal I read.”

  Eli was relieved to move on to another subject. He, too, looked at the partially cleaned sculpture. “Yes, it does. Mom loved eagles and mustangs. She sculpted them many times. There are at least half a dozen of them that I plan to sell.”

  “My brother-in-law is going to love you,” she commented absently, still focused on the sleek, flowing lines of the eagle in flight.

  “Really? Why?” Eli studied her face as she studied the sculpture.

  “Because he’s a huge fan of your mother’s work,” she told him, her gaze returning to meet his. “And of yours, as well. In fact, he told me he’d love to include some pieces of yours in your mother’s exhibit. Whether or not you choose to make them part of the auction is up to you, of course.”

  “I’ve been out of the country for a year,” he told her. “I don’t have a collection at the moment.”

  “I know he’ll be sorry to hear that,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll want to discuss a future showing of your work whenever you’re ready.”

  “Good to know,” he said. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile flashed, quick and enchanting. “Now, I’d better get back to work and let you get back to yours.”

  She returned to her seat, and for the next hour, the only sounds in the quiet studio were the rustle of pages turning and the soft sound of cloth rubbing against metal.

  The near silence held until once again, Eli’s phone rang.

  “Yeah? Hey, Mariah.”

  Amanda brushed her hair back behind her ear and pretended not to eavesdrop. Given that Eli was sitting only a few feet away, however, it was impossible not to hear his side of the conversation.

  “Sure, I’ll ask her.” He paused. “Mariah’s at the Lodge with Cynthia. She wants to know if we want to have lunch with them.”

  “I’d love to,” she said, startled, after a moment spent trying to discern from his expression whether he wanted her to say yes or refuse. Since she couldn’t tell how he felt about the invitation, she decided to go with her first reaction.

  He merely nodded and lifted the phone to his ear. “She says yes. See you in a few minutes.” He snapped the phone closed and shoved it into his pocket, standing. “It’s not far to the Lodge, so I thought we’d walk. Okay with you?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” Amanda joined him, stepping outside when he held the door open and waiting while he locked it behind them. His long legs quickly moved him ahead of her, and she hurried to keep up until he glanced sideways and purposely slowed his strides.

  They left the studio driveway and turned right along the gravel lane. The sun was nearly straight overhead and Amanda was thankful she’d remembered to take her sunglasses from her purse and slide them on her nose before leaving the studio. The road followed the bend of the creek and wound to the left, the bungalow on the creek bank dropping out of sight behind them while the Lodge loomed just ahead.

  “You need a hat.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Amanda asked, tearing herself away from the view of the beautiful two-story log building with its wide porches. Eli wore mirrored sunglasses beneath the brim of his gray Stetson and she couldn’t see his eyes. But she could feel him looking at her.

  “I said you should be wearing a hat,” he repeated. He frowned and laid his palm on the crown of her head. He barely touched her before the weight of his palm was gone. “The sun’s hot, especially at midday.”

  “I have a baseball cap I use when I run in the morning,” she told him, still tingling from the brief touch of his hand against her hair. “I suppose I could start wearing it during the day, too, when I’m outside.”

  He shrugged. “A cap’s better than nothing, but a Stetson crown and brim give you more protection. I have one in the closet that I wore when I was about twelve. It might be small enough for you. I’ll check at the house.”

  “Thank you.” Bemused, she stared at him, but he was already facing forward again. Just when she’d decided he barely tolerated her for the sake of their bargain, he said or did something nice and knocked her off balance. Who are you, Eli Coulter?

  They neared the Lodge and Eli veered to the left on a walkway that skirted the wide green lawn edged with flower beds and tall old maple trees. The overhanging branches shaded the path and their protection immediately gave Amanda relief from the sun’s hot rays. They walked past a low hedge that divided the lawn from a neat kitchen garden with arrow-straight lines of mulch separating rows of lush green plants.

  “What a beautiful garden,” Amanda commented.

  “That’s Jane’s work,” Eli told her. “She’s the chef at the Lodge. Both she and Cynthia are advocates of organic food served as fresh as possible. I’m not a gardener, but given how good the meals are here, I have to assume they’re right.”

  Amanda remembered very clearly how delicious the food had been at the Lodge’s open house and suspected the women were on the right track.

  The path ended at a set of shallow, wide steps that led up onto the deck at the back of the Lodge, and Eli ushered her through a door that opened directly into the big kitchen.

  A slim woman wearing a white chef’s jacket and slacks stood at the big commercial range with her back to the room, stirring something in a big stockpot. Cynthia perched on a tall stool at the counter, knees crossed, one slim foot swinging in time to the classic rock music coming from a radio in the far corner. As they entered, Mariah bumped the refrigerator door closed with her hip, a pitcher of iced tea in one hand, the other balancing a huge bowl of salad. She looked up as she walked toward the island counter, a smile lighting her face when she saw Eli and Amanda.

  “Hi, there.” Mariah’s cheerful greeting was echoed by Cynthia, who turned at her words.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Cynthia said. “We’re having salad and Jane’s classic stir-fry. She had porterhouse steak on the menu last night and we get the leftovers.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Eli drawled. He pulled out a stool and seated Amanda. “Amanda, I don’t know if you’ve met Cynthia and Jane. Cynthia is Zach’s fiancée and also manager of the Lodge. Jane is the Lodge chef and rules the kitchen. Jane, Cynthia, this is Amanda Blake.”

  “Hello.” Amanda had seen the stunningly beautiful Cynthia with Zach from across the lobby at the Lodge’s grand opening but they hadn’t been properly introduced. She hadn’t seen Jane before, neither here on the ranch nor in Indian Springs, but the slim redhead’s quiet smile as she looked over her shoulder to nod a welcome reassured Amanda.

  “It’s very nice to meet you.” Cynthia’s expression was warm and friendly as she openly studied Amanda. “I understand you’re writing a book about Zach’s mother?”

  “Yes, I am.” Before she could say anything more, Jane left the stove to slide a large steaming bowl of vegetables with chunks of meat in broth onto the countertop. It smelled heavenly, reminding Amanda she hadn’t eaten since breakfast
at the café in Indian Springs six hours earlier.

  Mariah set a bowl of fluffy white rice on the countertop and took her seat. “I’m starving,” she announced. “You’re joining us, aren’t you, Jane?”

  “Yes, I’m just waiting for Harley. Matty’s dropping him off for lunch.”

  Amanda belatedly noticed that there were six places set at the counter. Before she had time to do more than wonder who Harley was, the back door opened and a little boy dashed into the kitchen.

  “Mama, guess what?” His face radiated excitement. A shock of tousled reddish-brown hair fell over his forehead and below eyebrows that were the same shade of brown, his bright blue eyes gleamed with delight. A light dusting of freckles highlighted the bridge of his short, straight nose in a face tanned golden-brown by the summer sun.

  “Harley, stop running.” Jane calmly intercepted him and steered him to the sink. “Where have you been? I expected you ten minutes ago.”

  “I stopped by the barn to see the puppies.” His words were muffled as Jane ran a damp washcloth over his face.

  “Wash your hands,” his mother instructed, turning on the faucet. “So they were born? I hadn’t heard.”

  “Yes, they were borned.” The little boy scrubbed his hands with reckless disregard for splattering water, rinsed and accepted the towel Jane held out. “And they’re so little, Mama.”

  “I’m sure they are.” Jane took his hand and drew him with her to the counter.

  Eli stood and, without a word, lifted the little boy up onto the tall stool next to him while his mother settled on the one just beyond.

  “Thanks, Mr. Eli.” Harley flashed him a grin.

  “You’re welcome, Harley,” Eli answered gravely.

  The interaction between the little boy and Eli charmed Amanda. She couldn’t help noticing how comfortable Harley clearly was with Eli. And how easily Eli dealt with the boy. She wondered fleetingly if he’d had practice with his own child, but none of her research on the Coulter family indicated that any of the brothers had children.

  Apparently, Eli and his brothers liked children, however. She knew from earlier conversations with people in Indian Springs that they’d hired John and Matty Arnold some months earlier. The couple lived in a small house on the property and John was employed as a ranch hand, while Matty provided day care for Harley while Jane worked. The ranching community soundly approved of the Coulters creating a solution that allowed single parent Jane Howard to work as the Lodge chef.

  “So, Harley, Belle had her babies?” Cynthia asked.

  “Yes. She had eight.” He held up two hands, fingers splayed, visibly counting his digits and folding down the thumb and two fingers of his left hand.

  “One more, little guy,” Eli said quietly, nodding in approval when Harley laboriously unbent his little finger and proudly waved his hands.

  “How many boys and how many girls?” Mariah asked, spooning rice onto her plate and passing the bowl to Cynthia on her left.

  “John says four are boys and four are girls.” Harley’s face split into a wide grin. “And he said one of them can be mine if I promise to take care of it.”

  Amanda caught Jane’s quick, exasperated amusement as her gaze flashed to meet Cynthia’s.

  “Oh, he did, did he?” Jane said mildly, no trace of negativity in her voice as she spoke to her son. “Did you tell him we can’t have a puppy at the Lodge?”

  “But, Mama,” Harley pleaded. “I’d keep him in my room all the time, honest.”

  “But our apartment is right off the kitchen,” she reminded him. “I’m not sure the Department of Health regulations would allow a dog here.” She exchanged another long-suffering glance with Cynthia. “Even if Cynthia and Zach approved of it,” she added.

  Harley’s face fell. “You’d let me have a puppy, wouldn’t you, Cynthia?”

  “I think that’s something your mom and I—and Zach—would have to discuss, Harley.” Cynthia’s face was solemn but her eyes twinkled.

  “In any event, the puppies have just been born,” Jane reminded him calmly. “It’s going to be quite a while before they’re old enough to leave their mother. So we have some time to think about this. Meanwhile, you need to eat your lunch.”

  “Okay.” The little boy’s mouth drooped for a moment before he looked up, his expression hopeful once more. “When Miss Matty comes to get me, can I go see the puppies again before we go back to her house?”

  “Only if Matty has time to stop at the barn with you,” his mother said. “And if you eat all of your lunch.”

  “’Kay.”

  Bowls of rice, stir-fry, and salad had passed around the counter and plates had been filled during Harley’s conversation. While Jane’s son enthusiastically applied himself to emptying his plate, Amanda listened without comment while the four other adults discussed the upcoming weekend. The Lodge’s guest rooms were filled to capacity and Cynthia had scheduled entertainment that included an outdoor barbecue on Saturday night, complete with a small local western band and dancing under the stars.

  Amanda savored every bite of the delicious food as Cynthia told Eli about the carpenter she’d hired to build a wooden platform for the guests to dance on.

  “He hasn’t checked in and I haven’t been able to reach him at the phone number he gave me.” Cynthia frowned, worry pleating two vertical lines between her eyebrows. “Which makes me nervous about whether he’s actually going to show up.”

  “Kenny hasn’t been in the café for at least a week,” Mariah told her. “And he usually eats lunch there every Tuesday and Thursday.”

  “Is Kenny Roberts the man you’re talking about?” Amanda asked, hesitant to offer information unless it was needed.

  “Yes, he is. Do you know him? Have you seen him recently?” Cynthia looked hopeful.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know him, nor have I seen him,” Amanda replied. “But I had lunch with his grandmother, who happens to be the librarian in Indian Springs. She told me he was visiting his cousin in Wyoming and was involved in a car accident. I believe his leg was broken. Mrs. Roberts was very concerned about him and was hoping she could drive down and visit him when we chatted a week ago.”

  Eli glanced sideways at her, his expression contemplative. “You’re getting to know quite a few people in Indian Springs,” he told her.

  She shrugged noncommittally, not certain if he viewed her growing familiarity with the residents of Indian Springs as a good or bad thing.

  “Well, I’m glad she is,” Cynthia said firmly. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known what happened to Kenny. And I might have wasted more time waiting for him to contact me. Now I know I have to make alternate plans.”

  Amanda hid a smile when Eli narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “I’m busy, Cynthia.”

  “But all I want you to do is help Zach with the carpentry work,” she told him.

  “Does Zach know you’ve drafted him to build a platform by Saturday?” Eli asked, one eyebrow rising in disbelief.

  “No, but I’m sure he’ll agree when he knows the situation. Please, Eli,” she wheedled.

  “All right.” Eli heaved a sigh. “But you owe me. And I’m talking major debt here. This could cost you free dinners at the Lodge for the next month, plus handing over half of any bakery goods Mariah brings home from the café.”

  “Fine.” Cynthia grinned at him. “I’ll pass the bill on to Zach. And Mariah,” she added with a twinkle as Mariah frowned at her.

  Amanda could have sworn he growled, but it was a halfhearted effort at best. After watching him with his future sisters-in-law, little Harley and Jane, she was beginning to doubt Eli Coulter was anywhere near as coldhearted and uncaring as he claimed to be.

  “I owe you, too, Amanda.” Cynthia’s voice interrupted Amanda’s musings. “If you hadn’t told us what happened to Kenny, I would have had far less time to enlist alternative builders. Please join us on Saturday. I can promise you fabulous food because Jane’s in charge of the b
arbecue, and also fabulous music, since the musicians are all local boys.”

  “It’s lovely of you to invite me, Cynthia, but you don’t owe me,” Amanda protested. She was vividly aware of Eli seated beside her. She couldn’t believe he would want her to spend time with his family. He’d been very specific about confining her presence to the studio, and even then only with him present. She was pretty sure socializing with his future sisters-in-law was not on his list of approved activities.

  “Come on, Eli,” Cynthia coaxed. “Tell her she has to come.”

  Amanda looked up at him through the shield of her lashes. She couldn’t read anything in his enigmatic expression.

  “Since I’ll have to cancel our time at the studio for the next day or so in order to build your dance floor, I suppose it’s only fair she get equal time at the barbecue,” he said at last.

  “Yea, it’s settled. You’re coming, Amanda.”

  “If you’re sure you want me, I’m delighted to accept.” Amanda didn’t look at Eli; instead she smiled across the countertop at Cynthia.

  “Do I get to come to the party, Mama?” Harley asked.

  “I don’t think so, kiddo,” Jane told him. “It’s an adult party and I have to work. But Matty can walk you down to the Lodge from her house so you can have barbecued beef for your dinner. Would you like that?”

  “Yes.” His prompt response was so enthusiastic, the adults all laughed.

  A rap on the back door interrupted them and a young woman poked her head inside.

  “Matty!” Harley jumped down off his stool and raced across the room to grab her hand. “Can we stop and see the puppies on our way to your house? Please?”