by Carol Arens
So far, none of the sour souls had shown up. Things seemed to be going along just like Holly Jane hoped they would.
He kept a guarded eye on the folks having fun, hoping that nothing would change.
“Aren’t the children so sweet that you could eat them up?” came a feminine voice from behind him.
The young woman walked boldly up and stood closer to him than, he figured, her folks would be happy with.
“Miss Munroe made some cookies so you won’t have to do that.”
He took a wide step away from her, but she filled it in with a swish of her pink skirt.
“I just adore children, don’t you?” She blinked her eyes at him, fast and hard. He reckoned she had spent some time practicing the flirtation. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t invite them to your beautiful ranch if that weren’t the case.”
She slipped her arm through his and clamped on hard. Clearly, she wasn’t refined in the art of seduction, but she was eager.
“I want a houseful of the little dears.” She sighed and looked him in the eye. “Given all this, I don’t doubt that you want the same.”
“This is all Holly Jane’s doing,” he explained, pretending to misunderstand what she was suggesting.
The woman was curvy where a woman ought to be, her face was pretty and she would take a tumble as easily as a pebble on a slope.
At one time he would have felt a response to her promiscuous behavior. Not now. It wasn’t right that he didn’t even know her name, yet she clung to him like tar on a feather.
Unless he missed his guess, she saw him as the daddy of her brood.
“Holly Jane is a dear little thing,” the woman said, her voice ripe with dismissal.
“The lady has spunk...and beauty.” He watched Holly Jane in the distance. His heart swelled with pride as though she were his in some way. “She’s a rare one, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well,” the woman blustered, “she is sweet-tempered.”
Colt watched Holly Jane lift a little boy up on a wooden horse. They laughed and she patted his head.
She glanced about and spotted him with Nameless stuck to his arm. With a laugh, she climbed on the elephant’s back.
She smiled, she winked. He felt a surge of heat roar through his limbs.
Holly Jane was dearer than Nameless could imagine. She was also smart, brave and caring...not to mention as spicy as her modest, but somehow provocative, red dress.
He was going to tell her so. If she rejected him, so be it. He could not face the rest of his life without offering his heart.
It was worth the risk. If she did feel the same for him as he felt for her, he would gain the world. If she didn’t, hell and damn—
The pressure of fingers trailing up his sleeve brought his attention back to the woman attached to him.
“Ma’am?” He uncurled her fingers from the crook of his arm. “I believe my grandmother needs me.”
It might be true. Where was the old gal anyway? The last time he had seen her she was riding a fish on the carousel and chomping down a chocolate cookie. That had to have been half an hour ago.
He hurried to the carousel, jumped upon it then walked into the spin. Passing the grinning little boy, he stopped at the elephant and rested his hand on the tip of the trunk that had held Holly Jane’s camisole.
She looked pretty sitting astride the wooden beast with her red skirt splayed over the animal’s rump, but she might as well have not gotten dressed for all that he saw of her gown. There would never be a day when he didn’t see her sitting backward, naked and sighing under his touch.
“Have you seen Grannie?” he asked, in part as a reminder that this was now and not then. The women in his life were expecting him to act like a gentleman this afternoon.
A pair of creases wrinkled her brow.
“Not since she went into the barn for more sweets. I hope she hasn’t taken ill.” She lifted her leg over the elephant’s back, ready to climb down. “I’ll go look in the house.”
He caught her waist to ease her descent. Anyone would think so. The truth was that he wanted to touch her...to feel the warmth and the life inside her.
Since he’d moved into the barn, things hadn’t been the same. Even with his dream of raising horses on his own land being fulfilled on an hourly basis, something was missing.
Didn’t take much wondering to know what it was.
Joy in the form of Holly Jane. It was sharing common moments with her. Watching her laugh with the old ladies at the dining table. Hearing her talk to her pig when she thought he wasn’t nearby. Seeing moonlight tickle soft fingers through her sleeping gown when she went out late at night to visit the outhouse.
The fact that he was in love couldn’t be clearer if Cupid were stinging him with an arrow.
“There she is.” Holly Jane patted his hands where he’d neglected to remove them from her waist. “See her coming around the back of the house?”
“There’s something I need to...” His confession trailed off because all of a sudden her face lit up, and it wasn’t because of him.
“It’s the girls!” She hopped off the moving platform to greet the new guests.
He ought to go back into the barn and get his knife, because three Folsom girls had just crossed the bridge, arm in arm with four Broadhower girls.
Chapter Eleven
“Miss Munroe!” Susan waved at her from the bridge.
The girl bounced on her toes, gesturing to her friends and relatives to hurry.
They rushed toward the carousel, laughing and clapping their hands.
“This is so beautiful!” Cissy Broadhower exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement and a nip of cold. “I can’t believe such a thing exits.”
“We’d heard the stories about how it used to be, but I never quite believed them,” Bethanne said.
As excited as the girls were, Holly Jane was jubilant...ready to weep, in fact, because Bethanne snatched Cissy’s hand and they ran to the carousel as though they had always been best friends. Even better, they always would be.
“Go on, girls,” Holly Jane said to the others. “Better get some riding done before it starts to snow.”
Laughter trailed after the girls like a ribbon of joy wrapping everyone in its bow.
Sarah Milton whispered in Ellie Landers’s ear. They giggled then approached Bethanne and Cissy.
While she watched, children from other families appeared to overcome their fear of the Broadhowers and the Folsoms.
If the yard weren’t filled with folks of all ages munching sweets and having fun, Holly Jane would dissolve into a weeping mess of happy tears. A few months ago she would never have believed that peace would be possible for the town.
Now, because of Colt repairing the carousel, there was hope. If she had it to do over again, she would not have greeted him and his family with a disheveled home.
“Wouldn’t have believed it,” Colt’s voice said, surprising her from behind. She’d been so involved in watching the children that she hadn’t noticed him approach.
“I wonder if Granddaddy can see this,” she said.
“I reckon he can.” Colt stood so close that his breath stirred the hair at her temple. “Close your eyes...see if you can’t feel him.”
With her eyes closed, she noticed things she wouldn’t have. A note in the tune of the carousel’s song off-key. A woman’s voice that laughed a bit louder than the drone of conversation. The scent of apple cider drifting from the barn, the cold nip of the air promising snowfall before dark, and there, close beside her, she sensed Granddaddy’s presence.
If she dared to open her eyes she might see him standing beside Colt, grinning and clapping him on the back. Couldn’t she just hear him if she listened with her heart, telling Colt h
e was pleased that he was bringing the ranch back, thanking him that his granddaughter was not married to a Folsom or a Broadhower?
She startled, because she felt her grandfather turn his attention to her.
“Emily.” She heard his voice in her mind as clearly as when he had stood beside her in the flesh. “Or Alexander. Your grandma says to tell you she loves you and don’t dawdle on those babies.”
She heard the laugh that she missed every day since Granddaddy had gone.
Her visit ended abruptly when another laugh intruded.
“My word, Mr. Travers. I’m such a ninny, leaving my coat behind.” Hilde shivered. Her flesh pebbled where the bodice of her gown dipped too low to offer anything but a clear view of her charms. “I’m as cold as can be.”
“No need to be cold, Hilde,” Holly Jane said, still feeling Granddaddy at her back, urging her to fight for little Emily and baby Alexander. “The barn’s plenty warm and the cider is hot.”
“I’m sure it is, Holly Jane.” Hilde turned around, presenting her back. Holly Jane felt like an intruder on a private conversation.
“Maybe I could bring you my coat from the house.”
“Yes,” she said, turning at the waist and spearing her with a vinegar smile. “Be a dear, won’t you?”
“Mr. Travers.” Hilde turned back to Colt, the vinegar vanished, drippy honey taking its place. “I’d so adore a ride on the carousel with you. Won’t you please go around with me on the elephant?”
“Thing is, Goose Bump, I had my heart set on riding the elephant with Holly Jane.” He reached around Hilde to snatch Holly Jane’s hand. “Best go warm up with some cider.”
Holly Jane laughed. It wasn’t kind, but she couldn’t help it.
Hilde had been so sure of herself, of the charm of her low-cut gown, and now all she got for her effort was the shivers.
Colt Wesson had been her hero from the beginning, standing between her and her suitors. Today, he was that and more.
Hilde had made her feel like a child...a nuisance.
With a wink and a smile, Colt had chosen her...in front of Hilde and anyone else who might have been witnessing her humiliation.
She would love him forever.
With her chilly hand wrapped up in his big, warm one, he ran with her to the carousel. He lifted her up, turning her backward on the elephant. Just like before, he climbed on and faced her.
“Thank you, Colt. It was kind—”
He touched her cheek. “No one makes you feel small, Holly Jane.”
He traced her lips with his thumb. He kissed her gently just as the carousel rounded upon an outraged Hilde, who had been joined by her equally stunned mother.
“Meet me here tonight.” He cupped the back of her head with his hand. “There’s some things I have to say to you, and I won’t do it with all these damned eyes staring at us.”
“I’ll be here, as soon as the ladies are in bed.”
A gust of wind carried a snowflake that settled on the corner of his grin, then another on his hair. He slipped off the elephant then rested his hand on her thigh.
“I won’t be riding the elephant with anyone but you ever again.”
He squeezed her knee then jumped from the moving platform. Passing by Hilde and her mother without a glance, he turned and winked, then went into the barn.
Nothing would keep her from being here tonight, not a blizzard, a flood, or a pair of old ladies wanting to sit up late and talk.
For a brief second he was there. Granddaddy, riding the horse next to her, nodding his approval.
* * *
Colt watched Goose Bumps cross the bridge, her gray-blue skirt swaying with her angry stride. The vapor of her mother’s breath trailed behind while she tried to keep pace with her daughter.
There had been a time, all of his life to be honest, that he would have followed her...a full-bosomed, earthy and slightly lacking in morals, siren. The kind of woman who accepted a man like him without a qualm.
This afternoon he had sent her on her way without regret.
It seemed that his type had become the kind of woman who was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. When the two qualities were bound up in one little lady wearing a modest, but all the more alluring for it, dress, she was irresistible.
She would be his.
Holly Jane went from guest to guest, carrying a tray of cookies and pie. She walked through the intermittent snowflakes, looking like some sort of Fairy princess seeing to the sweet needs of her kingdom.
He’d have to stay away from her, keep his hands on proper things until folks went home. But come tonight, he wouldn’t.
He dodged a pair of running children then went into the barn. The stove would need feeding.
Grannie and Aunt Tillie sat on the bench near the stove. Aunt Tillie sipped something from a mug while Grannie dipped a cookie in her hot drink.
He sat down beside them.
“Holly Jane must be pleased,” Aunt Tillie said, nodding her head toward the group of girls in the corner. “There’s got to be ten of them now, Folsoms and Broadhowers, even some other girls from town.”
“I’d like to be young like that again, wouldn’t you, sister?”
“If only to try harder to talk you out of running away with an outlaw.”
“Luckily, I wouldn’t have paid a blink of attention. We wouldn’t have had our little Colt if I had. If there were no Colt, what would become of Emily and Alexander?”
“Grannie.” Colt folded her splotched and veined hand in his. He thought her hand was beautiful with its lines that revealed a lifetime. “You know that Emily and Alexander don’t exist?”
She sighed. “Yes, dear, and Cyrus wasn’t just behind the house with the monkey and the alligator, either.”
“Colt—” Aunt Tillie touched his back “—you aren’t wearing your sword today.”
“First of all it’s not a sword.”
“It might as well be,” Grannie observed. “And we haven’t seen you without it in years.”
“Holly Jane didn’t think it was right wearing it around the children. It’s hanging in the back stall.”
He hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of being without it. He felt vulnerable, what with the buzz of unease in his gut that wouldn’t let up and not a damn thing he could do if something happened.
“That ought to tell you something about your feelings for Holly Jane, young man.” Judging by their matching expressions, Aunt Tillie spoke for the both of them.
“Tells me I’ll probably be sorry.”
At that moment Holly Jane came through the barn door with a light flurry of snowflakes rushing in with her. He reckoned that folks wouldn’t be staying much longer.
Holly Jane walked to the pot of apple cider and dipped the ladle in. She turned to him and raised her mug.
Until tonight, was her clear message. Good thing he wasn’t holding a cup of something hot or he’d have sloshed it all over his fingers.
He’d need his fingers later on. Damned if they weren’t itching in anticipation of slowly stripping that red dress off her.
* * *
Susan Broadhower nibbled on her fingernail. Bethanne Folsom yanked her friend’s hand from her mouth and held it.
“Things are different for us, Suzie.” Bethanne shook her head. “It’s not right or fair, but it’s a born-and-bred fact.”
Susan turned to Holly Jane on the bench. “Shouldn’t I be able to court a Folsom if I want to?”
Holly Jane glanced out the barn door, watching the snow drift softly past. Sadly, she couldn’t give the girl the answer she wanted.
“You’re too young for courting just yet,” she answered then took a sip of her cider and let the warm liquid glide down her throat while she search
ed her heart for a bit of wisdom to give the child. “All of you are the hope for this town. Old ways won’t last forever. Keep on doing what you are, meeting and bringing in more friends. With any luck, Suzie...and the rest of you, will be able to court anyone you choose to.”
“I’d choose to court Mr. Travers,” a pigtailed girl, who was neither a Folsom nor a Broadhower, said with a sigh. “But I’m thirteen. He’ll be an old man by the time I’m even old enough to be noticed.”
“Well, we’d all court him, Clara, but he’s Miss Munroe’s fellow,” Bethanne pointed out.
He wasn’t, but come later tonight he might be. She glanced about the barn but didn’t see him.
“I saw him go out with his grannie and his aunt a few minutes ago.” Clara twirled the tip of her pigtail about her finger.
“The snow’s getting heavier. I reckon we ought to go home like the rest of the folks have,” Susan said.
“But it’s so dreary. Uncle Henry is going to go on talking about how we will all come to ruin if a Folsom grabs Miss Munroe first. And the threats against Mr. Travers. It’s all we ever hear,” Cissy complained.
“I’m not going to be grabbed by anyone. Tell your families they don’t have to worry about their water. Colt has no intention of drying anyone out.”
“Be careful, Miss Munroe.” Bethanne’s pretty face looked weighed down with worry. “Our grandfather found out that Henry Broadhower has decided to cart you off, willing or not. Now he’s trying to get one of my uncles to do it first.”
“Since we all saw Mr. Travers kiss you today, we reckon he ought to marry you as soon as he can,” Clara said.
“That ought to get both of our families into a tangle. I really don’t want to go home,” Cissy moaned.
“You bunch of worthless, disloyal females! I figured I’d find you here!” A big, booming voice rang off the walls. The horses that Colt had brought in when the snow started falling stomped nervously in their stalls. “Stand up, you Broadhower girls! I’m going to tan you right here for everyone to see your shame.”
“No, Uncle Henry!” Susan rushed forward, placing her slight body between him and the other girls.