Wild West Christmas

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Wild West Christmas Page 25

by Jenna Kernan


  The animal kicked and bucked for another few minutes while Gale stuck on its back as if he were glued there. Suddenly the horse stopped and stood still, snorting loudly. Gale leaned forward and patted its neck, spoke to it, patted it some more and finally touched his boot heels gently against its ribs, and the animal stepped forward. He reined it to one side and it turned. He walked it twice around the corral.

  Alice swiped tears off her cheeks. Ernesto again murmured, “Bueno,” and I felt my own eyes sting. Alice was right; what I had witnessed was beautiful.

  “Well,” she said, her voice watery, “are you ready to learn to ride?”

  I must have looked horror-struck because she burst out laughing. “Oh, no, not that horse!” She tipped her head at the animal Gale was now unsaddling. “Ernesto, get Lady saddled for Miss Cornwell, would you?”

  Without a word the Mexican swung away from the fence and strode off toward the barn.

  All at once I was so terrified my entire body began to shake.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gale

  I turned over the stallion I’d just broke to Juan and stowed the saddle and bridle in the barn just as Ernesto was rustling up some tack and one of Alice’s old saddles. “For Señorita Cornwell,” he explained. “She is muy nerviosa.”

  I bet she was, having just seen me get bucked all to hell and gone. That was why I didn’t want her watching me work with the mustang. Lilah sure could be stubborn, though.

  So I wiped the sweat off my face, grabbed my hat and went to teach the lady how to ride.

  Jase swaggered over. “Whyn’t you let me teach her, huh, Gale? You already had a workout.”

  “I’m not tired,” I retorted.

  Skip sauntered up, too. “Prob’ly smell pretty sweaty, too. Me, I’m fresh as a—”

  “Shut up. Go find a fence to mend.”

  I led Lady out to the corral, took one look at Lilah and decided this was a very bad idea. Her eyes were as big as one of Consuelo’s cupcakes.

  “You ready?” I said. Half of me hoped she’d back out. The other half couldn’t wait to get close to her.

  She nodded, and I turned to clear everyone away from the fence. As scared as she was, she sure didn’t need an audience. I caught Alice’s eye.

  “Jason,” she called. “I need some help with a barrel of apples on the back porch. You, too, Skip.”

  Both the boys groaned, but orders from the boss’s wife took precedence over watching a pretty girl. When they’d shuffled off, I signaled for Lilah to crawl through the fence and stand next to the sweet old gray mare Alice’s kids had learned to ride on.

  She did crawl through, but she was moving real, real slow.

  “You can back out of this venture,” I said.

  She straightened her spine. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  I just looked at her. “You sure?”

  “I—I’m s-sure.”

  That got a claw into my heart. I laid my hand on the horse’s nose. “This here’s a real gentle mare. Name’s Lady.” I picked up Lilah’s hand and laid it next to mine.

  “Let her smell you,” I said. “And talk to her some.”

  Lady blew out a gusty breath and Lilah backed away.

  “That’s her way of sayin’ hello,” I said. “Just stand quiet. Keep your hand where it was.”

  I could feel her tremble, and I wasn’t even touching her. The ruffle down the front of her striped shirtwaist was shuddering.

  “What should I say to it?”

  “Anything that comes to mind. Doesn’t have to make sense.”

  She gave a little pat on the horse’s nose. “H-hello, Lady. I hope you won’t mind if I t-try to ride you today.”

  “Keep talkin’,” I said. “She knows you want to be friends. Horses are real smart.”

  Lilah bent toward Lady’s ear. “I bet you can tell I’m a little frightened, can’t you?”

  “Okay, now come on over here.” I guided Lilah over to the mounting block Juan had dragged over. “I want you to step up on this thing. When you’re ready, lift your left foot into the stirrup, and I’ll boost you up into the saddle.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t move.

  “Ready?”

  She bit her lip and nodded again.

  “I’m gonna have to touch your backside, so don’t scream. Thought I’d warn you.”

  She got her toe into the stirrup just fine, and I laid my hand on her bottom. Goddamn, she was soft. And so warm my palm felt as if I’d picked up a hot coal.

  “Stand up in the stirrup.” I gave her behind a shove upward and gritted my teeth. “Swing your right leg over the saddle and settle onto the seat. Now reach your other toe into the stirrup on the other side.”

  When she was seated, I grabbed the reins and swung up behind her.

  “Oh! I didn’t expect you—”

  I had to chuckle. “To climb up behind you,” I finished.

  “Well, no, I thought…”

  “I can get off if you’d prefer.”

  She kind of leaned back against my chest. “No. Don’t get off. Stay here with me.”

  For a minute I couldn’t remember what the hell I was doin’ up on a horse with my arms around her. So I gigged the mare and started walking her slowly around the corral.

  Before we’d gone three steps, Lilah peered down. “It—it’s quite far to the ground,” she said in a small voice.

  “If you’re scared, hold on to the saddle horn.” I grabbed her hand and positioned it, then walked the mare around twice more. Most of the time I had my eyes closed, just breathing in the scent of her hair. Roses, maybe.

  She kept a stranglehold on the saddle horn, but after a while I felt her body relax.

  “You doin’ okay?”

  “Yes.”

  The next time we came around I spoke to Juan. “Open the gate, por favor.”

  We moved out into the meadow. I didn’t want to stop riding behind her, but this wasn’t teaching her how to manage the horse on her own. I reined up after a few yards and dismounted.

  “Gale? Where are you going?”

  “Gonna get my horse.” I laid the reins in her hand. “Just sit there and stay still. Horse won’t move unless you do.”

  I walked off toward the barn to saddle Randy. When I got back she was still there, her back stiff, her hands white-knuckled around the reins.

  “Now,” I said. “Touch your heels to her sides, real light. When she steps forward, follow me.”

  I headed off toward the river, keeping my eye on Lady behind me until Lilah spoke.

  “What is that building over there?”

  “That’s my cabin. I live there.”

  “Can I go see it?”

  “Nope.” Didn’t mean to sound so sharp, but in all the years I’d been foreman at the Rocking K, I’d never invited anyone to my cabin.

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t ask why, Lilah.”

  She was quiet all the way to the riverbank. I showed her how to dismount, and then I boosted her back up into the saddle again and we headed back to the corral. She didn’t want to stop, but I knew she’d be plenty sore after her first time on horseback.

  And anyway, I was having a real hard time keeping my hands off her. Figured I could only take so much.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lilah

  I did not like riding a horse nearly as much as I liked playing poker with Gale, but after watching him tame that wild horse with such gentleness and skill, I knew I was in good hands.

  And I was. I made “horse friends” with the mare Lady and I enjoyed the experience more than I thought I would. Possibly that was because of Gale. I appreciated that he did not allow the ranch hands to observe my fumbling first attempt and…well, just because it was Gale.

  I like the man. I like him more than I thought I could ever like a man. I blush to admit it, but I especially like it when he kisses me. Mama would have an attack of the vapors at such an admission, but I think Aunt Carrie wo
uld cheer. Aunt Carrie lived life to its fullest, even though it cost her dearly in the end.

  That afternoon Ernesto drove me back to town in the buggy, and I will never forget the gallant and thoughtful thing he did. When he pulled the horse to a stop in front of my house, he dipped his hand into the pocket of his worn leather vest and pulled out what looked like a man’s sock. The top was knotted and something was tied up inside it.

  He pressed it into my hand and gave me a shy smile. “For you, señorita.”

  Inside were thousands of tiny black seeds. “Flowers,” he explained in his softly accented voice. “From the land.”

  “Wildflowers! Oh, Ernesto, thank you!”

  He studied my garden, where drifts of daisies and baby’s breath mingled in riot of color, like a painting. “Muy bonita. You grow more.”

  I was so touched I leaned over and kissed his wrinkled cheek, which embarrassed him. A flush colored his skin until he bid me goodbye and drove off down the road.

  I was so excited I stripped off my riding skirt and donned the jeans I wore to work in the garden, dragged out the shovel from the shed off the back porch and started that very afternoon to spade up more ground.

  The next morning I was so stiff and sore I could scarcely hobble downstairs for my marmalade toast and coffee. All the spading, no doubt. Or two hours on horseback. Gale had warned me to soak in a hot tub before bed, but in my excitement over Ernesto’s wildflower seeds I forgot to follow his advice.

  The next three days I spent sowing my new seeds and wondering when I would see Gale again. But when he did finally appear on my porch, it was unexpected. And terrible.

  It was late afternoon on a beautiful fall day. I had just finished up a new story and addressed it to the publisher of a lady’s magazine when I heard someone calling my name through the front screen door.

  Gale. His voice sounded harsh. I clattered downstairs with a sudden knot of apprehension in my stomach.

  “Gale! Come in.” I pushed open the screen.

  “I’d rather you came outside,” he said. His face looked odd and tight. He sat me down in the swing and began pacing back and forth from one end of the porch to the other, his hands jammed in the back pockets of his dusty jeans.

  “Lilah…” His voice caught. Something was very wrong.

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  “Don’t really know how.” He turned toward me, snatched off his hat, and crowded close to me on the swing.

  “Ernesto…” He stopped and swallowed, then started again. “Ernesto was moving some of those mustangs from the holding pen into the corral when one of ’em went kinda crazy. Kicked Ernesto in the head pretty bad.”

  He jerked to his feet and walked to the front steps, stood for a moment staring down at my newly spaded-up garden, then came back and sat down again.

  “Doc came out. Said it was a concussion. Bad one.” He drew in a rough breath. “Ernesto’s dead, Lilah. He never woke up.”

  For a moment I felt nothing. This was not real, not happening. But when Gale reached his arms around me I knew it was true.

  I cried and cried. Gale finally went into the kitchen and brought me a cup of wine. “Whiskey’d be better,” he said. “Couldn’t find any.”

  “I-in the hutch,” I said, sobbing.

  He brought that, too, and I drank all that he poured into my glass. After a while he poured himself half a glass and tossed it down.

  “Funeral’s tomorrow. I’ll come get you with the buggy.”

  I could only nod and mop at my eyes with my skirt hem. Gale reached over and squeezed my shoulder, then untied his horse and mounted. He forgot his hat, but my throat ached so much I couldn’t tell him.

  * * *

  We didn’t talk much on the way out to the ranch. Every time my gaze lit on the clumps of goldenweed and wild sunflowers Ernesto had pointed out to me, my tears started in again. Both my handkerchiefs were sodden before we had gone three miles. Gale pulled his out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me; when I noticed that it, too, was tear damp, I started in again.

  Alice met me on the porch. “We have an hour before the boys load the…” She stopped short. “Would you like something to drink? Lemonade?”

  I wanted some whiskey, but I wouldn’t dare ask. Consuelo brought out two glasses, and we sat in silence except for Alice’s occasional shuddery breath.

  The burial plot was a small square on top of a gentle hill, fenced in black wrought iron. There were two graves beside the deep hole that awaited Ernesto’s remains. One headstone read Timothy Kearns Kingman, aged eleven. The other was for Charles Randolph Kingman, aged twenty. Alice studied each grave for a long moment before turning her attention to the coffin the men carried up.

  Charlie read some verses from the Bible, but I could not listen. Consuelo blotted away at her streaming eyes with the sleeves of her black silk dress. Juan stood beside her, thin lipped but dry-eyed.

  I felt sick and strange, as if I were wrapped in thick cotton. Skip and Jason and Alice bowed their heads for the Lord’s Prayer, but I could not, and Gale did not. His face looked ravaged.

  When it was over, the dirt shoveled over the coffin and the grave filled in, I stepped forward and laid the bunch of goldenweed daisies Gale had let me pick on the drive in from town on top of the mound of fresh dirt and numbly turned away.

  Alice and Charlie walked back to the ranch house holding hands. The buggy stood at the porch. “Consuelo has made a light supper,” Alice began. “If you would stay?”

  I could not answer. I shook my head and pressed her hand. Then Charlie spoke. “Thank you for coming. Ernesto thought you were really something.” He bent and kissed my cheek. “Gale will drive you home.”

  Oh, thank God. I could not stand being with anyone but Gale. I climbed up into the buggy, clenched my hands in my lap and waited.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gale

  The minute we left ranch property I reined up the horse, stopped the buggy and pulled Lilah into my arms. She wasn’t crying, exactly, but she wasn’t acting normal, either.

  “You all right?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Take me home.”

  I whipped the horse into a trot. I never whip a horse, but I could see something wasn’t right with her. I pulled the buggy around in back of her house. Didn’t know why, really, just thought I might be there for a while and I didn’t want to start any talk.

  She didn’t seem to notice. Seemed kind of as if she was sleepwalking. I felt pretty low myself. Inside the house she went straight to the hutch for the whiskey, snagged two glasses from the top shelf and uncorked the bottle. She started to pour it out, then stopped and looked over at me.

  “Do you want some of this?”

  I lifted the whiskey out of her hand. “Nope. Do you?”

  “No.”

  I stuffed the cork back in and we just stood there looking at each other. Her face was bone-white, and her eyelids were red and swollen. Her mouth…oh, God, her mouth was all twisted.

  I reached for her. “Lilah.”

  “Kiss me, Gale.” Her voice was so soft I wasn’t sure I heard right.

  “What?”

  “Kiss me.” She wound both arms around my neck and held on tight. “I need you to kiss me.”

  I needed her, too, but maybe this wasn’t the right time. I knew if I kissed her I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  And I guess she didn’t want me to. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe, and her mouth told me things I wasn’t sure I could believe. I held her until her knees gave way, and then I gathered her up and climbed the stairs with her in my arms, pushed through her bedroom door and laid her down on the bed.

  She moaned and pulled me down beside her. “Don’t leave,” she whispered.

  I walked over to the china basin on her chest of drawers, poured in water from the pitcher and wet a square of linen and wrung it out. When I returned to the bed, she rolled toward me. I sponged off her face and neck and pressed my lips against her
reddened eyelids.

  “More,” she murmured.

  I unbuttoned the top seven buttons of her shirtwaist and ran the cloth over her upper chest. I was right—no corset. Might explain why my hand started to shake.

  “Gale?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you stay with me?”

  I sure couldn’t answer right away. When I trusted my voice, I tried to say something sensible. “You don’t know what you’re sayin’, really.”

  “I know exactly what I am saying.”

  “Lilah…”

  “Don’t stop me, Gale. I want you to stay.”

  “That’s grief talking, right?”

  “Yes. And more.”

  Oh, lordy. I undid all the rest of the buttons and undressed her slowly, all the way down to her camisole and lacy drawers, thinking she’d stop me any minute. But she didn’t.

  So I stretched out beside her and stared up at the blue-painted ceiling. I wanted her like I’d never wanted another woman, and I wrestled with it a long time. Finally she rose up on one elbow and began unbuttoning my shirt. When she reached for the belt buckle at my waist, I caught her wrist.

  “Don’t, unless you’re real sure about this.”

  “I am sure.” She smiled for the first time that day.

  I rolled off the bed and stripped while she watched. Standing in front of her stark naked made the state of my need more than obvious.

  “Gale, you are a handsome man.”

  “That’s not what’s important, is it?”

  “Of course not.”

  I lay down beside her and tugged the ribbon on her camisole free, wishing like hell my fingers weren’t shaking. She laid her hands against my bare chest.

  “This is the most wonderful thing I have ever known,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “Spending time with you.”

  “You know something, Lilah? Everywhere I go, everything I do, I think about you.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “I know that I like to be where I can talk to you.”

 

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