A Coulter’s Christmas Proposal

by Lois Faye Dyer

  She leaned back in the circle of his arms to look up at him. “You can cook?”

  “I make a great Spanish omelet,” he told her. His hands settled low at the back of her waist and he tugged her closer, until her hips and thighs were snugged against his. “Stay.”

  “Will your brother mind?” Amanda asked, torn between wanting to stay and wondering whether she would be wiser to step back from the whirlwind pace of intimacy with Eli.

  “Brodie? No. Why would he?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after five. I’ll call Jane and have her throw some food together so we can pick it up before going up to the house.”

  “Won’t she be in the middle of the dinner rush? I’m not sure we should do that to her.”

  “She won’t mind. She always has a family version of whatever she’s serving at the Lodge. Zach and Cynthia use the service often—probably not as often as I do, since I hit her kitchen nearly every night,” he added with a half grin. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Stay for dinner at least.”

  “I’ll stay for dinner,” she said, giving in. “But I’m not sure about staying the night. All my things are at the hotel.”

  “I’ll loan you a toothbrush,” he told her.

  “Eli,” she protested. “I’m not sure….”

  “Let’s talk about it after dinner,” he said, catching her hand and tugging her after him toward the door. “I’m starving.”

  They bundled into coats and Eli swung her up in his arms once more, insisting on carrying her across the muddy drive to the truck. The rain beat a tattoo on the roof of the cab as he drove to the Lodge, leaving the engine running while he ran into the kitchen, returning in short moments with two large brown paper bags.

  “Jane gave us enough for three, in case Brodie hasn’t eaten yet.” He handed her the bags and backed out of the parking slot, driving down the service lane at the rear of the Lodge and onto the gravel ranch road that took them back to the ranch house.

  Just as Eli parked and switched off the truck engine outside the house, the rain let up.

  “You have impeccable timing, Mr. Coulter,” Amanda told him, pushing open the passenger door and jumping out.

  Eli joined her and they ran up the sidewalk to the porch. A gust of wind caught them as Eli opened the door, pelting them with raindrops as they hurried inside.

  “Nice weather for ducks,” Eli muttered as he slammed the door.

  “But not for humans,” Amanda laughed, shaking raindrops from her hair and coat.

  “You two look wet,” Brodie said from the depths of the recliner in the living room.

  “It’s pouring out there,” Eli told him. “We stopped at the Lodge and Jane sent enough food for all of us. Are you hungry?”

  “Always,” Brodie answered promptly.

  Eli and Amanda opened the bags of food on the coffee table, fetching plates and utensils from the kitchen, and joined Brodie to eat dinner. Afterward, Eli set up a folding table next to the recliner and the three of them played poker, Eli and Brodie complaining loud and long when Amanda had a run of beginner’s luck and took most of their coins.

  “I like your brother,” Amanda told Eli as she climbed into bed later that night. She wore one of his T-shirts in lieu of pajamas and it hit her midthigh, the neck opening nearly slipping off one shoulder.

  “You should have met him before the accident,” Eli said. “He’s always been edgy, but since he came home, he’s darker.”

  She curled her legs under her, turning to face him. “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” she said softly.

  “We all are. Rodeo’s been his life since he was a kid. Without it…” Eli shook his head.

  Amanda leaned closer, smoothing her fingertip over the two small frown lines that drew a V between his eyebrows, easing them away. “He’ll find his way,” she assured him. “All of you seem to love this amazing land and I can only assume Brodie feels the same. That will make all the difference. He has a chance to heal here.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He cupped her chin in one big palm. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down on top of him. “I’m guessing this bed is a lot more comfortable than the sofa at the studio. Let’s test it.”

  She laughed as his lips met hers. And then there was only heat and passion while thunder rolled and lightning flashed outside the window.

  The next five days flew by much too fast. Amanda and Eli didn’t talk about her leaving; instead, they spent every moment possible in each other’s company. And when it was time for her to leave, she refused to let him take her to the airport. She wasn’t good at saying goodbye and she didn’t want his last image of her to be with tears running down her face, her eyes turning red as she sobbed. Eli reluctantly let her have her way, but only because he knew he’d be joining her in New York for the auction in just over two weeks.

  Fortunately for both of them, there were telephone calls. Lots of telephone calls. They talked several times a day, any time of the day, but they always, without fail, called each other before going to sleep. This was reassuring to Amanda. This was the same man who had gone an entire year without talking to his brothers. Clearly, he felt the need to talk to her.

  A week after Amanda returned to New York, the phone rang just after ten and she put down her book, smiling as she took the phone from the bedside table. She didn’t need the quick glance at caller ID to tell her who was calling.

  “Hello, Eli,” she said.

  “Hi, honey. I wish you were here. Or I was there.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s too quiet around here,” he said, his voice a deep rasp. “Even my horse is moping.”

  “I’m so sorry, Eli.” Delight bubbled and she laughed. “Are you trying to tell me in a very roundabout way that you miss me?”

  “I guess I am.” He sounded surprised but she heard the thread of amusement in his voice.

  “I miss you, too, and I wish I was there. Or that you were here,” she added. “Why don’t you catch an earlier flight? You could be here tomorrow. We could order in and spend the day catching up.”

  “Catching up?” He laughed. “I like the sound of that. It’s been a week since you left. We have a lot of catching up to do—in bed and out.”

  “I wish Montana wasn’t so far away from New York,” she said, frustrated that they were separated by so many miles.

  “So do I, honey, so do I.” He sighed, a gusty sound of frustration. “Hey, Tom called today. He had a question about hanging one of Mom’s wall sculptures. I told him we can talk about it when I get there but I think he wanted an answer sooner. Would you mind taking a look at the wall space and deciding? We discussed the showing more times than I can count. I’m sure you can be as much help to him as I would be.”

  “You’d trust me to do that?” she said, overwhelmed by his easy confidence in her.

  “Yes, without question.” His voice was deeper, darker.

  “I’ll call Tom tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you,” she said softly.

  “Same here. What are you wearing?”

  The switch of subject caught her off guard and she looked blankly down at her pajamas. “A white cotton tank top and blue sleep shorts. Why?”

  “I was hoping you were naked,” he told her. “But I can picture you in pajamas, too. Cute, right?”

  She laughed. “Well, the pajamas are cute—that’s why I bought them.”

  “Then you are, too,” he said with satisfaction. “And sexy.”

  “They aren’t exactly the same as lacy black lingerie, Eli,” she said dryly.

  “Honey, on you, everything’s sexy.”

  His voice made her shiver and sent heat rolling through her veins, tightening her nerves with anticipation.

  “Stop that,” she murmured, her own voice throaty. “You’re too far away for me to seduce.”

  He sighed. “Sorry, honey. I promise we’ll take care of that the minute I get to New York.”

  Amanda would be counting
the minutes.

  But just over a week later, Eli’s plane was late and plans had been changed. Getting Amanda alone for some much needed one-on-one time would have to wait. Her family had insisted on welcoming him to New York with dinner.

  Eli had time only to drop his suitcase in his hotel room, quickly shower and change clothes before catching a taxi to the restaurant.

  He’d adjusted to the quietness of rural life over the past month. There, the cry of a hawk high overhead, a bugling call from Jiggs or the chug of the tractor were the loudest noises he heard. Here in the city, sound was a backdrop for the throngs of people on the sidewalks and the traffic clogging the streets. The loud thump-thump of bass pounding out of speakers grew louder before fading away as a battered car driven by a twenty something guy pulled even with the cab and then turned at the end of the block. Up front, the cabbie’s radio squawked with intermittent static.

  The city hummed with all the human activity that was absent on the Triple C. Eli sat back and enjoyed the quick snapshots of the city outside the cab’s windows.

  The restaurant where Amanda had chosen to gather the family to meet him was Italian, and as he stepped inside, the smells of red sauce and sausage, rich cheese and good wine assaulted his senses. He scanned the room, searching for Amanda. He found her just as she stood, leaving the group surrounding a table near the back to walk toward him, a smile of welcome lighting her face.

  “Hi,” he told her. With unselfconscious ease, she hugged him, going up on tiptoe to brush a kiss against his cheek before catching his hand in hers. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her properly and won, but just barely.

  “Hi,” she replied. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. Come meet everyone.”

  Her fingers threaded through his, she drew him with her as they wound their way around other diners to reach the table set for seven.

  “Eli, this is my mom and dad, Connie and George, and my sister, Lindsey, and her husband, Tom. The little one chewing her binky is Emma. Everyone, this is Eli,” Amanda said, beaming at him.

  There was a round of hellos. Eli shook George’s and Tom’s hands before seating Amanda and slipping into the remaining vacant chair.

  “We’ve ordered family style,” Amanda told him. “We come here often and the owner always has a wonderful variety and includes salad and bread.”

  “Sounds good,” Eli told her.

  “Are you hungry? What did they feed you on the plane?” she asked.

  “I’m starved,” he said with feeling. “The flight meal was a sandwich and chips.”

  “I hope you’re ready to greet a crowd at the gallery,” Tom said from across the table. “The auction is only five days away and the buzz about the exhibition unveiling your mother’s work is getting frantic.”

  “I’m hoping that translates into a lot of bidding,” Eli responded.

  Tom grinned. “I think that’s a given,” he said with complete confidence. “Just the fact that new Melanie Coulter work is on the market will pull in serious collectors, but twenty-two sculptures, previously unseen, well…” He paused significantly. “The gallery has had so many inquiries about the pieces that we had to assign an assistant to deal with callers nearly full-time.”

  “That’s good news,” Eli said with feeling. “Let’s just hope they bring their wallets with them to the auction.”

  Tom laughed. “The collectors I’ve spoken with are very interested and they have deep pockets.”

  “Good.” Eli felt a deep twist of satisfaction. He wouldn’t count on anything until the auction itself was over, but Tom’s comments made hope move higher. Maybe they could save the ranch, after all.

  “I wanted to thank you for being so hospitable to Amanda while she was visiting Montana, Eli,” Amanda’s mother put in from down the table, leaning forward to smile at him.

  “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Blake,” Eli told her politely.

  Beneath the cover of the white tablecloth, Amanda’s fingers threaded through his, their hands palm to palm. The pressure of her hand squeezing his made promises for later.

  By the time they reached Amanda’s apartment later that evening, both were long past being patient. Eli pulled her into his arms the moment the door closed behind them and they kissed feverishly, shedding clothes and laughing as she tugged him down the hall to her bedroom.

  They made love and held each other until nearly dawn.

  It wasn’t until he was nearly asleep that Eli realized he hadn’t told her about the engagement ring in his coat pocket.

  Tomorrow, he thought hazily just before sleep claimed him. I’ll ask her to marry me tomorrow.

  But somehow, in the rush of busy, happy days, he kept putting off asking Amanda if she’d marry him and return to Montana.

  The days flew by. Amanda and Eli were nearly inseparable as she took him on tours of her favorite neighborhoods, her favorite coffee shop. They walked through Central Park, sitting on a bench to eat hot dogs and watch children playing on the grass.

  Eli had visited New York City before but now he saw it through Amanda’s eyes. For her, this was home. She’d been born and raised here, her close-knit family all lived here and she clearly loved it.

  As the hours and days slipped away, he became more and more convinced that he couldn’t ask Amanda to give up her life here in New York to marry him and live in Montana.

  There were many things about the city that Eli liked, too, but if he couldn’t ask Amanda to leave New York, he was forced to consider whether he could leave Montana and live here full-time.

  And the answer was no.

  Somewhere between leaving Spain and now, his roots had sunk deep into Triple C’s acres once more. He didn’t want to, couldn’t, rip them up again.

  The engagement ring he’d taken from the studio vault, the one created by his mother that matched the ones he’d given to Cade and Zach for their future brides, remained in his pocket. He never removed it, but neither did he tell Amanda he carried it.

  If he’d loved her less, maybe he would have proposed and seduced her into returning to the Triple C with him. But he couldn’t do that to her. Even if she agreed, how long would it be before she was miserable away from her family, friends and the life she loved?

  When the auction was over, he’d fly back to Montana, alone.

  In the meantime, he cherished each moment with Amanda, though the time was bittersweet.

  The auction of Melanie Coulter’s sculptures was a smashing success. Even Eli hadn’t expected the crowd of collectors that mobbed the gallery. When the evening was over, the doors locked behind the last guest, and Tom told him the total dollar amount they’d made from the sales, Eli was dumbstruck.

  He could easily pay his share of the tax debt on the Triple C.

  Tom opened a bottle of champagne and Eli, Amanda and Lindsey joined him in toasting their success.

  It was after 2:00 a.m. when Amanda and Eli returned to Eli’s hotel, leaving the taxi to walk the last block.

  “I love New York.” Amanda smiled, looking up at the flashing neon sign on the top of the tall building. Arms held out, she twirled in a circle, laughing. “I’ve missed it.”

  Eli laughed, catching her hand when one of her stiletto heels caught on a crack in the sidewalk and she would have stumbled. “Careful, honey. You don’t want to fall and break something.”

  “You’d catch me,” she said with certainty. “Will you always catch me, Eli?”

  “Absolutely,” he said without pause. “But you might want to cut back on the champagne if I’m not around, just in case you feel like spinning in circles on sidewalks.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her laughter effortlessly charming him.

  “Let’s go to your room,” she murmured against his mouth.

  Eli kissed her, heat simmering between them, before he raised his head, tucked her under his arm, and took her into his hotel, up the elevator and into his room.

  They made love with an intensi
ty that shook him. And when she finally fell asleep in his arms, Eli remained awake. Unwilling to give up a moment of these last hours with her to sleep, he stared at the ceiling and wondered how the hell he was going to survive without her.

  Amanda woke slowly the next morning. Eyes closed, she rolled over, her hand searching for Eli. But the bed was empty. She opened her eyes and sat up, clutching the sheet. She was naked beneath it, and she took it with her as she slipped off the bed, wrapping it around her like a sarong.

  A room service tray sat on the small table near the window and she poured herself coffee, sipping as she crossed to the bathroom. The door was open, the room steamy, and Eli stood in front of the counter, packing his shaving gear into his leather kit.

  “Good morning,” she said, smiling when he turned to her, his eyes heating as he took in her naked shoulders and the slipping sheet. She grasped the upper edge with one hand.

  “Good morning.” He leaned in and kissed her, his arm slipping around her waist to pull her close when the kiss turned hotter.

  When he let her go, she was breathless.

  “What a lovely way to say good morning,” she said, her voice husky.

  He smiled at her. “Don’t spill your coffee.” He nudged her hand with his, leveling the tilting cup.

  She followed him out of the bathroom and realized his suitcase was open on the rack, the hangers above empty because he’d already folded his shirts and slacks into the case. “You’re packing?”

  “Yes.” He looked up at her, then bent to stow the leather bag with his shaving gear in the suitcase. “I have to catch a flight this morning.”

  “You’re leaving today?” She stared at him. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “No.” His voice was gentle. “Like you, I hate saying goodbyes.”

  “I thought you might stay a few days. We haven’t been to the Statue of Liberty yet. And we talked about driving upstate, out in the country….” Her voice trailed off.