Exultant Montana Christmas: Bear Grass Springs, Book Nine

by Ramona Flightner

  Ewan rose with such speed that he knocked backward the chair he sat in so it rattled on the floor. He ignored it, his gaze focused on his wife and her suffering. “Nae, my love, my lass, nae.” His callused fingers and palms swiped over her cheeks as he crouched in front of her. “Oh, never, my darling wife.” He pulled out a chair so it faced her and sat so she could lean forward against him.

  “I feared you’d become tired of my sadness. That you’d wish you’d married another.” At his disgusted noise, she swiped her cheeks against the cloth covering his chest and then raised her head to smile tremulously at him. “And there’s more.” She took a deep breath and gripped his hand. “I’m sorry, Ewan. Helen told me that she doubts I’ll ever be pregnant again. I will never have a chance for a baby.”

  He frowned as he rubbed at her cheeks, soaked with her tears. “This is no’ a surprise, Jessie. We’ve kent for some time …” He paused as he saw the utter despair in her gaze. “’Twas the loss of hope.”

  She nodded. “I found that, if I had any hope, I could handle … almost handle being barren. Realizing that I was truly barren, that I’d never be the woman you—”

  Ewan held a finger to her lips and shook his head, his brown eyes lit with a fierce intensity. “Nae, ye will no’ speak of yerself in such a way. Ye are no’ capable of havin’ a child, but ye are no’ barren. Ye are filled with life.” He kissed her forehead. “With passion.” He kissed her nose. “With love.” He kissed each cheek. “Ye are no’ a barren woman.”

  She sobbed, leaning forward as he held her. “Can you forgive me?”

  His hands gripping her back tightened a moment, and he eased her away. Cupping her face in his strong hands, he held her still. “Why were ye with Ezekial?” His brown eyes shone with confusion. “I canna imagine a life without ye, an’ I’m tryin’ to find a way to forgive ye. To understand that I did no’ do enough to soothe yer discontent.”

  “No, Ewan, no,” Jessamine said in a low voice, her hand rising to cover his lips. “I was never with Ezekial. Not like that.” She shuddered as though the thought were repugnant to her. “I’m sorry I ever caused you to believe such an idea. To give credence for one moment to the worst of the town’s gossip.” She frowned. “I frankly can’t believe you think me capable of betraying our vows.”

  She paused, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember Beth from the Boudoir?” He nodded, accustomed to her sudden topic changes. “Unbeknownst to almost everyone, Beth and Ezekial were having an affair. From what I’ve come to understand, it wasn’t out of a power struggle but true affection.”

  Ewan rubbed at his head. “The Madam willna like a younger Beauty takin’ her man’s attention away from her.”

  “No,” Jessamine whispered. “And she was furious when Beth became pregnant, hiding her condition for so long that she had no option but to give birth.” She waited for Ewan to nod as though in understanding, but he continued to watch her in confusion. “Beth had her baby a few weeks ago. The Madam expected Beth to resume her duties immediately.”

  “That vile woman,” Ewan hissed.

  Jessamine nodded. “Yes. I ran into Beth a few days after she gave birth, as I was researching a story, and I saw how ill she looked. She stood on the back stoop of the Boudoir in the freezing weather, trying to cool off.” She gripped Ewan’s hand. “Helen came and pronounced Beth quite ill and unable to continue to work. The other Beauties would tend the baby during their off hours, but they needed help during their busiest hours in the evening and early night. I … I offered to help where I could.”

  Ewan sat back as though he’d been poleaxed. “You’ve been caring for a baby? Ezekial and Beth’s baby?”

  She nodded. “I had to. I have no idea what the Madam would have done had I not helped.” She held up her palms in supplication, hoping for Ewan to understand. When he gave a small nod, she continued her story. “Beth worsened, despite everything Helen did. Beth died last night.”

  “I ken,” Ewan said. “I was there at the Boudoir, when Warren found Helen mournin’ the loss of wee Beth.” He gripped Jessamine’s hand. “I dinna ken why ye would no’ share this with me, Jessie. Why would ye allow me to believe ye were playin’ me false?”

  “Because I was!” she cried out, her hand rising to cover her mouth as she attempted to swallow another sob. Tears poured down her cheeks, soaking the collar of her dress. She dropped her hand to cover her chest. “In my heart, I was coming to love another as much as I love you. And I feared you’d resent me and hate me for it.”

  “The bairn?” Ewan asked with tear-brightened eyes. “Ye mean the bairn, no?”

  At her nod, he let out a deep breath of relief. “Ye have to ken I’ll give ye everything I can to make ye happy. Everything. But we canna claim a child who is no’ ours.”

  She gripped his hand tightly. “Ezekial sought me out this morning. He is mourning the loss of Beth. I believe he truly loved her.” She looked deeply into her husband’s eyes. “He asked if we would raise his daughter. And he agreed to sign whatever papers we wanted, granting us custody.”

  Ewan paused; his gaze locked with hers as he saw nascent hope in her gaze. “Is the bairn why ye are so exhausted?”

  She nodded. “And because I can’t sleep without you beside me. These past nights with the baby have been horrible.”

  He raised her hand, kissing first her knuckles and then her palm. “What have ye named her?”

  Jessamine beamed at him, joy lighting her entire expression. “I haven’t. I wanted to wait for you. And I didn’t want to become any more attached if we weren’t to raise her.”

  “Ye do ken we’ll be even more infamous in town, raising a Boudoir Beauty’s bairn?” He winked at her and looked around the kitchen. “Where is our daughter?” he asked and then frowned as Jessamine froze at his question and then burst into sobs again. “Dinna fash yerself, love,” he murmured as he pulled her close again. He held her as she cried against him, his hands tangling in her red hair.

  “How … how can you know you’ll accept her as your daughter when you haven’t met her?” Jessamine asked.

  “I ken because ye already love her. An’ bairns deserve love, no matter who their parents are. Besides, Beth was a kind and sweet lass who deserved more from this life than to suffer becomin’ a Beauty. I like to believe we can ensure her daughter has a better future.”

  “Oh, Ewan, how I love you,” Jessamine whispered as she pulled him tight to hold him even closer.

  He shuddered at her words, saying a silent prayer of thanksgiving at holding her in his arms again.

  Twenty minutes later they had left Cailean’s and walked to Fidelia and Bears’s house. They lived a short distance from the livery, beside Warren and Helen’s home. Ewan had his arm around Jessamine’s back as they waited for Fidelia to answer their soft knock. He kissed Jessie’s head as she snuggled into his side.

  “Oh, you’re here,” Fidelia said with a bright smile as she ushered them inside. “Baby fell asleep after eating again, and I just finished up washing her dirty clothes.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Dee,” Jessamine protested.

  Fidelia shrugged. “I was doing my own wash. A little more didn’t hurt me.” She reached a hand out as her daughter, Mildred, raced toward them. “Millie!” she said in a loud whisper. “Don’t wake the baby.”

  Mildred stifled a giggle and wrapped her arms around Jessamine and then Ewan. “We have two babies in the house for a little while! Mama said she’s going to be my cousin.”

  Jessamine smiled and ran a hand over Mildred’s head. “Yes, she is.” She watched in fascination as Ewan gravitated to the basket where the baby slept.

  “Our bairn needs a cradle,” he whispered as he knelt beside the basket, his gaze roving over the baby’s downy head covered in a fine layer of black hair. He studied her closed eyelids, her perfect eyelashes, tracing a finger over her head. “So soft,” he murmured before he kissed her forehead. He looked up with a wondrous smile to meet Jessamine
’s watery gaze. “What do ye think of Aileana?”

  “Aileana?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Aye, a beautiful name for our beautiful bairn.” He reached out a hand for Jessamine, linking their hands as he kept a palm over their baby’s head. “I ken we’ll be exhausted for years to come, an’ we willna have a day we are no’ worried about her.” He grinned at his wife. “But I would no’ want it any other way.”

  Jessamine sank to her knees beside him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Me neither.”

  Chapter 6

  Two days later, Ewan walked into the café in a daze. He sat at the first available table, resting his head on his crossed forearms. The loud thunk of a coffee mug set down beside his head had him jerking upright, and he stared blearily at Harold. “Coffee. Aye. Thank ye,” he said as he reached for the mug.

  After taking a few sips, he looked around the café, meeting the gazes of the men who blatantly stared at him with curiosity. After another sip, he frowned at their overt rudeness. Turning to find Harold still here, Ewan saw the man sitting at the table next to him and froze. “Ezekial,” he said in a low voice.

  The large man nodded, although he didn’t appear as menacing as usual without his ferocious glare or his billy club sticking out of his back pocket. Dressed in all black, his ebony hair needed a cut, and his five-o’clock shadow was in danger of turning into a beard. His silver eyes shone with desolation.

  “MacKinnon.” Ezekial’s gaze roved over Ewan and then darted around the café at the men avidly watching the exchange between them.

  Ewan jolted again as Harold came to stand between them, blocking the view of most of the other café patrons. “Harold,” Ewan murmured.

  “I’d be obliged if the two of you would refrain from coming to blows in my café. I’ve no desire for a remodel just now.” He looked from one man to the other, frowning when Ewan sighed and then yawned as he ran a hand through his hair.

  “Ye ken I’d just be makin’ more work for myself, an’ I have no desire or need of more work just now.” He smiled at Harold, his amusement fading as he glanced at Ezekial. “I dinna ken his intentions.”

  Harold looked at the somber man. “Come. Talk in the back.” He motioned for the two men to follow him, ignoring the groans of protests and mutters from a few of the men present.

  “He always ruins the chance to learn good gossip,” one of the patrons grumbled.

  Chuckling, Harold slapped Ewan on the back, assuming Ezekial would follow.

  Ewan entered the kitchen, smiling his hello to Irene, who sat at the table chopping vegetables for a stew. He leaned over, kissing her cheek, and then sat at the table. After nodding his thanks for the coffee Harold placed in front of him, Ewan watched as Ezekial stood with uncertainty in the doorway.

  Harold stood near the stove, waving him in. “You boys need to have it out, but it would be better for that baby if you could make your peace.”

  Irene looked to the doorway and blanched at the sight of Ezekial in her kitchen. She exchanged a long look with her husband before giving an attempt at a smile of welcome at Ezekial. “This is the first I’ve had the pleasure of your company in my kitchen,” she said with wry humor in her voice. “Come in and sit down.”

  Ewan and Harold exchanged an amused look when Ezekial jumped to do her bidding. He sat across from Ewan, with Irene between them. Harold remained standing by the stove, as though ready to leap in at any moment to intercede, if necessary.

  After long moments of tense silence, Irene said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Ezekial.” She reached forward and squeezed his hand. She murmured, “Your losses.”

  Ezekial jerked at her quiet words. “Thank you.” His gaze flitted to Ewan, filled with gratitude and envy. “I … I wish things could be different.”

  Ewan cleared his throat. “I ken a little of what ye are sufferin’.” He paused as Ezekial met his gaze. “I lost a woman I loved in Scotland an’ believed I’d never recover. Thankfully I was wrong.” His gaze sobered. “Ye ken I still want to beat ye to a bluidy mess. Ye should have spoken to Jessie an’ me, no’ just Jessie alone.”

  A slight flush limned Ezekial’s cheeks, but he refused to acknowledge that Ewan was correct. “When you are desperate, you aren’t always logical.”

  “Well said,” Harold muttered.

  “How is she?” Ezekial asked in a hesitant voice. “Is she well?”

  “The bairn?” Ewan asked. At the eager look in the other man’s eyes, Ewan smiled. “She’s bloomin’. We’ve named her Aileana.” A smile burst free as Ewan spoke of her. “She kens what she wants, and she has us wrapped around her little finger. But she’s a good bairn.”

  “May I—?” Ezekial shook his head and closed his eyes.

  “Do ye want to see her?” Ewan asked. “Ye should come to the house an’ see the bairn.”

  “I … shouldn’t,” Ezekial said. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

  Irene gave a small noise of agreement. “No, it would not be,” she said. She set her knife down a moment as she looked at Ewan with exasperation and then to Ezekial with compassion. “I understand your desire to see your daughter, but there is no need to fan the gossip in town with any more speculation of a liaison between you and Mrs. MacKinnon,” Irene said with a nod to Ezekial.

  Ewan’s jaw tightened at the thought. “What would ye suggest, Irene?”

  Harold spoke up. “The lawyer’s office. No one would suspect anything there. Besides, I hear you have some business to conduct with the man.” Harold studied Ezekial, who sat slumped in his chair with his head bowed. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Ezekial.”

  “No, not at all. I’m grateful they took in the baby.” He rubbed at his forehead. “And we should meet with the lawyer.” He raised his eyes, and his gaze was filled with resignation. “I simply wish life were different.”

  Harold grunted. “If you want a different outcome, then you’ll have to live a different life. You can’t live in a brothel, working as the thug for a woman like the Madam, and expect to have things turn out any differently than they did. Think about that, boy.”

  Ewan fought a smile at Harold referring to the hulking Ezekial as “boy.” However, Ewan’s smile faded at the blatant misery he saw the man attempting to conceal. “Ye ken we’ll do all we can to care for yer bairn? She’ll be ours, an’ we’ll love her as ours.”

  Ezekial raised his eyes and met Ewan’s gaze. “I will be forever grateful that you and your wife are so generous of spirit.” He rose. “Should we meet in two days at Mr. Clark’s office?”

  Ewan rose, offering his hand. He waited a long moment before Ezekial reached out his. He gripped Ezekial’s hand as they forged a silent truce. They discussed a meeting time at Warren’s, and Ezekial left through the rear door.

  Ewan hugged Irene and nodded to Harold. “I should return to the job site to ensure everythin’ is under control.” He yawned. “An’ then I’ll return home to help Jessie.”

  Irene watched him with concern. “How are things between you and your wife?” She held on to his arm to prevent him from slipping out the door as she sensed he wanted to.

  He shrugged. “Ye ken how it is when there’s a bairn in the house. Ye have no energy for anythin’ but the care of the bairn.”

  Harold snorted with disgust. “You’re a fool if you believe that hogwash.” He looked at Ewan. “Make peace with your wife, son. Not because you now have a child you will adore. Because you already cherish your wife. Let your anger and doubts go.”

  Jessamine answered the knock at her door and smiled as she saw Annabelle. She motioned to indicate Aileana was asleep, and Annabelle smiled her understanding.

  After hugging Jessamine, Annabelle whispered, “It’s why I left Skye with Dee. I didn’t want Skye to wake her. She’s so excited that she has another cousin to play with.”

  Jessamine’s eyes filled with tears, and she rubbed at her eyes. A few more tears came, and she sniffled. “Forgive me. I never knew I c
ould be this tired.”

  Annabelle chuckled quietly and pushed Jessamine into a chair. “Would you rather rest while the baby is sleeping? I can tidy things up here while you both nap.”

  Jessamine swayed in her chair. “Although that is a tempting offer, I wouldn’t mind some company for a little while.” She yawned. “Ewan is away at the worksite, and I don’t expect him back until tonight.”

  “Well, don’t worry about dinner. I’ll bring by plenty of food for you, and I know Dee is planning to come by in a few hours to help with Aileana too.” She ran a comforting hand over Jessamine’s shoulder, as tears continued to drop from her sister-in-law’s eyes. Frowning, with a hint of confusion and exasperation, she said, “You had to have known this is how we would act, J.P. We would welcome any child you were blessed with. And help in any way we could.”

  Jessamine shrugged. “I’ve been so horrible. Thought such wretched things.” She closed her eyes.

  “Jealousy does that to us,” Annabelle murmured. “And if anyone understands that particular emotion, it’s Dee. So don’t worry that she is holding a grudge, because she isn’t. She’s delighted you and Ewan have a child and overjoyed that she can finally do something to help repay Ewan for the life she now has.”

  Jessamine lowered her head, half dozing while Annabelle puttered around the kitchen. Diaper cloths were strung over every available surface to dry, with the premium space near the stove. When Annabelle set a pot of tea on the table and then cups, milk, and sugar, Jessamine raised her head, after a half-hour nap.

  “Come. Have some tea.” She poured Jessamine a cup. “The dishes are done, and I’ll be back later today with food. Leticia says she will come tomorrow, so don’t worry about tomorrow’s dinner. Have Ewan come by the bakery, and I’ll set aside a loaf of bread and some sweet rolls for you in the morning.” She blew on her tea before taking a sip. “Leena is in today, and hopefully she’ll save us both some pepperkake.”