A Cowboy Christmas

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A Cowboy Christmas Page 17

by Janette Kenny


  “Good night, Mr. Barclay,” she said, addressing him formally in hopes that would break her seductive thoughts.

  She tore her gaze from the heat of his and hurried to the door. But no matter how much distance she put between them, she couldn’t escape her own desire for him.

  Just as she pushed open the door and rushed into the hall, he said, “Sweet dreams, Ellie. Best lock your door.”

  She didn’t pause to respond. If she dreamed, it would center around Reid Barclay. And there was nothing sweet about what she longed to do with that cowboy.

  Chapter 13

  Ellie slipped into her bedroom, closed the door and locked it. Her heart was still beating too fast and her thoughts jumbled from Reid’s bold admission.

  Knowing he wanted her, and hearing him say it were two different things. All pretenses were gone.

  He’d made his wants clear.

  It was up to her to walk away or succumb to the dark desires he stirred in her. Though she’d managed to walk away from him earlier, she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to resist him again tonight.

  In the mood Reid was in, she half feared he’d visit her tonight. And in the mood she was in, she’d likely welcome him.

  The locked door gave her time to think about what her body ached to do. It might be the deterrent that would send Reid down the hall to his own bedroom.

  And if it wasn’t?

  She hugged the book to her chest. All thoughts of reading until she was too tired to keep her eyes open had vanished, replaced by the lure of satisfying this wicked longing with Reid.

  She didn’t dare attempt to lose herself in a book now, for if Reid saw the light on, he might take that as an invitation. If he knocked on her door, she’d have to make a choice. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to turn him away.

  Being that bold wasn’t like her at all. True, she’d known one man in her life, but she’d never lusted after any man as she did Reid Barclay.

  And it was all wrong.

  He was affianced.

  Cheryl was sleeping in the room down the hall.

  And lest she forget it, she was here to share the holiday with her pa and keep him from making a foolish mistake. Letting the virile cowboy seduce her would only cause heartache.

  Ellie donned her nightgown and climbed into bed. The springs twanged in the stillness.

  Her face flushed just imagining how loud the springs would sing if Reid was lying beside her. Good heavens, everyone in the house would know.

  She flopped on her side and drew the covers over her head, willing sleep to come. A dreamless sleep, thank you very much.

  Ellie prayed her rest wouldn’t be tormented with thoughts of the seductive cowboy down the hall, and dalliances that were oh, so tempting, but should never be.

  But sleep didn’t come, even after she’d heard Reid seek his room. Even when the hour grew late and silence hummed in the house like an angry old bee.

  Everyone was abed and asleep. Everyone but her.

  She was about to light the lamp and read until she fell over with exhaustion when an unmistakable click sounded in the night. She froze, listening.

  That had to have been a door opening very slowly, as if someone was being careful not to make undue noise. And was that the scuff of a shoe?

  She was sure it must be. Someone had left their bedroom. Were they in need of the lavatory? Or had Reid decided to pay her a visit?

  Ellie sat up and clutched the covers to her bosom, her head canted to pick up any telling sound in the hall. The seconds stretched out, each one seeming longer than the one before it.

  The footsteps she’d expected to hear moving down the hall toward her room never came. In fact, she heard nothing but the hammering of her heart. Had she been mistaken?

  Just when she’d convinced herself she’d imagined the sound, another click echoed in the night, this one even softer than before. And much farther from her room.

  Ellie leapt from the bed and padded barefoot to her door. She pressed her ear to the panel, trying to pick up a telling sound in the hall.

  Nothing. It was deadly quiet.

  Someone had left their bedroom and entered another room. She was certain of it. Considering Reid’s earlier horny mood in his office, it was fairly obvious what was going on.

  Ellie’s hands fisted against the cool wood door, and hated herself for that moment’s jealousy. It was perfectly understandable that Reid and Cheryl would share a tête-à-tête in the wee hours of the morning. Intimacy between an affianced couple was expected.

  After all, she’d allowed Irwin that liberty after they were engaged to be married. And look where that had ended!

  Ellie crossed her arms over her bosom and prowled the room, too restless to climb back into bed. This house was large, but not big enough to ensure privacy.

  If she’d heard that door open and close, others would too—especially Burl Erston whose room was adjacent to Reid’s. How cavalier of Reid to ravish Cheryl when her guardian was in the next room, privy to any sound they’d make.

  A door banged open this time.

  Ellie stopped in her tracks. Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall, but not for long and nowhere near her room.

  Now what? Was Reid leaving Cheryl’s room so quickly?

  Ellie wrinkled her nose, wondering if that was the way of men. Her own foray into intimacy had been over before she knew what had happened.

  But she’d expected Reid Barclay to have more finesse than Irwin possessed. She’d thought he’d take his time loving a woman. Damn, she’d thought about that far too often.

  “Blast it all, Barclay! Have you no decency at all?” Erston asked.

  Ellie knew she should mind her own business. But she couldn’t.

  She opened her door a crack, getting a narrow view of Reid’s room at the end of the hall. Burl Erston stood in the doorway holding a lighted candle and looking like she envisioned Mr. Dickens’s Ebenezer Scrooge.

  God knew Mr. Erston was of the same temperament. However she didn’t think he would be having an epiphany anytime soon.

  “Did you think you could postpone the wedding and continue trifling with Cheryl?” Erston asked.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Reid’s voice echoed out of the dark, sounding muzzy from sleep and a surfeit of alcohol. “What the hell are the both of you doing in my room?”

  “Attempting to stop my ward from being abused again,” Erston said. “But it’s obvious I was too late. Return to your chamber, Cheryl.”

  “Please, Burl,” she said.

  “Now!” he said, his voice cracking like a whip.

  Ellie jumped and clutched her fists under her chin, unable to believe the woman who’d barely paid Reid attention had sneaked into his room tonight. But Cheryl rushed from Reid’s room wearing only a nightdress.

  She’d gone to him.

  Cheryl stopped beside Erston, her face pale as moonlight. But instead of saying more, she shook her head and fled to her room.

  “There will be no more talk of a postponed wedding,” Erston said after Cheryl closed her door.

  Reid appeared in the doorway, hair mussed and wearing the same clothes he’d had on earlier. “Nothing happened here tonight, and even if it did, putting the wedding off till next week won’t hurt a damned thing.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Erston said. “If you’d lie about seducing her, you would likely lie about your intention to marry her. I won’t let it happen.”

  “I’m not reneging on our agreement.”

  “I should hope not,” Erston said. “Kirby took you in and gave you a home, but he wouldn’t have tolerated you ruining his daughter and then abandoning her. God knows you hurt him enough when your shenanigans nearly cost him this ranch.”

  “Don’t talk about what I did wrong,” Reid said. “You bailed me out of a jam and hustled me off to England because Kirby asked for your help, but it was you who demanded a big share of the Crown Seven for your trouble.”

  “Wha
t transpired then was between me and my cousin,” Erston said.

  “Like hell it was.”

  Tension crackled in the silence.

  Reid stared at Erston, and even from this distance Ellie could sense the anger rolling off him. “We’ll talk this out in the morning.”

  “At length.” Erston stormed back to his room and slammed the door in his wake.

  Ellie must have made a sound, for Reid looked down the hall to her room. His anger and confusion reached out to her in the darkness, coaxing her to come closer.

  Her fingers tightened around the brass knob and her mouth went dry with a need so intense she could barely breathe. It took all her willpower to close and lock her door—not to keep him out but to forestall the temptation to go to him.

  After a solitary breakfast the next morning, Reid sprawled in the chair behind his desk and stared at the nearly empty decanter of bourbon. His head still pounded with a hangover that anger made more miserable.

  Last night, he’d set out to dull his desire for Ellie with bourbon. It hadn’t worked.

  So he’d staggered to his room in the wee hours of the morning and fell into bed, too liquored up to bother undressing. When Erston’s bellowing had invaded his dreams and jerked him awake, his cock had been semi-hard.

  It wouldn’t have been like that if he’d screwed Cheryl. Yet she’d been huddled beside him in bed, clutching the bedclothes to her chin.

  The last person he expected to find in his bed was Cheryl. She’d made it clear the day before that she didn’t expect him to put on an amorous front. Hell, they’d never even kissed, so sleeping together was a monumental step.

  Which was why he suspected a trap long before Erston accused him of seducing Cheryl.

  It didn’t make sense, since he aimed to marry her as agreed. Why go to the fuss of making it look like they’d been intimate? Did Erston think to blackmail him with that now?

  Erston swaggered into the office like a conquering general and looked down his hooknose at Reid, certainly giving that impression. “I’m off to Maverick this morning to find a minister. After your tryst last night, it’s imperative the wedding proceed as planned.”

  “A week isn’t going to make any difference one way or the other,” Reid said.

  “It will to me.” Erston’s fingers tapped out an impatient beat on Reid’s desk. “Though the damage has been done, I hope you can restrain yourself until you’ve exchanged your vows.”

  “Nothing happened last night.”

  Erston’s sneer hinted he didn’t believe that. “Deny it all you like. The wedding will proceed as planned.”

  He turned and marched from the room.

  Reid bit off a ripe curse and combed his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t agreeing to do anything until he and Cheryl had a good long talk about why she’d sneaked into his room last night.

  Since she hadn’t ventured from her bedroom yet, he’d check his mares first. Talk could wait until he finished that chore.

  He pushed to his feet and strode to the door, catching sight of Ellie vigorously running the carpet sweeper over the fine rugs. No doubt she’d heard everything, just as she had last night.

  For a moment, he had the urge to go to her and defend himself. He didn’t want her thinking less of him, which was a switch from his usual attitude of not giving a shit what anyone thought.

  But Cheryl’s visit to his room had altered the course they’d agreed upon. He had to know why she’d done it. Then he’d figure out how to deal with Burl Erston and protect Cheryl from that bastard’s machinations.

  Ellie strode down the hall toward Miss Morris’s room, worry dogging her steps. It was midmorning and the lady hadn’t come down for breakfast yet.

  Last night’s misadventure had certainly cast a pall over the house this morning. It had been deathly quiet since Reid had left shortly after breakfast. Even Hubert had busied himself elsewhere in the house.

  Ellie understood the lady’s need for privacy, but she didn’t want her suffering in silence either. How odd that days ago, she’d felt it was her duty to take Miss Morris aside and tell her what a scoundrel Reid was.

  Now she hesitated doing so, simply because Reid hadn’t gone into Miss Morris’s room as she’d thought. The lady had taken the initiative and slipped into his room.

  Or had she?

  It was all so confusing. Should she believe her eyes? Or should she believe what was beating in her heart?

  Maybe she just couldn’t face the fact that he’d admitted he wanted her, and when she refused him he’d turned to his fiancée in the dead of night. Maybe she just didn’t want to admit how vulnerable she was around Reid. Maybe she was deluding herself by refusing to allow how much this hurt her.

  All that aside, it simply seemed too convenient for Burl Erston to catch his guardian in Reid’s bed last night. Like Reid, she couldn’t see why the wedding couldn’t wait until the minister could get here.

  She stopped at Miss Morris’s door and took several bracing breaths before rapping smartly on the panel. Not waiting for the lady to reply, she asked, “Would you like me to bring up tea or a light brunch?”

  “No, nothing, thank you,” Miss Morris said, sounding calm and not the least bit depressed.

  “Should you change your mind, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Ellie said.

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” Miss Morris said.

  That pretty much slammed the door on further dialogue.

  Ellie returned to the kitchen and the quandary of what to do about the noon meal. She imagined Mr. Erston would spend the bulk of the day in town in his search for a minister. She doubted Miss Morris would venture from her room. But Reid would surely expect a meal.

  As time was short and her culinary experience already strained, she decided on a simple fare of noodles seasoned with braised chunks of antelope. Mixing the dough was simple enough, but rolling it thin and cutting the strips was a challenge.

  The back door opened and closed. Ellie worked a bit faster, certain Reid had returned and would be hungry as a bear.

  But instead of the tall cowboy who occupied her thoughts too often, Hubert shuffled into the kitchen. Mercy, she hadn’t known he’d gone outside, too.

  He stared at the dough covering the table before sliding her a curious look. “Dumplings?”

  She frowned and dropped the strips that wanted to stick together into the boiling water. “Noodles, though these will be a bit fluffier than usual.”

  That was an understatement. They were too thick, too wide, and would probably be as heavy as wood shingles. As soon as the dough hit the boiling water, the noodles expanded to twice their size.

  He glanced in the pot, then went about fixing himself tea. “Ah.”

  That exclamation said it all.

  She groused to herself and dumped the last of the noodles in the pot. If she couldn’t master something as simple as noodles, how in the world was she going to prepare the Christmas feast? Or for that matter, the traditional plum cake for the wedding?

  And just thinking of the wedding put her in a sour mood again. The questions she’d wrestled with last night while sleep eluded her were clearing in her mind now.

  Reid had openly pursued her for a clandestine romance, proving he’d be an unfaithful lout to his fiancée. Yet Cheryl had showed more concern for Kenton Pearce, than Reid.

  If not for that episode last night, she’d be convinced that Cheryl wanted nothing to do with Reid. And yet if Cheryl did care for Reid, then why in the world hadn’t she shown any interest in her wedding?

  The holiday promised to be an interesting one in more ways than one. If she could just think of a way where she could spend uninterrupted time with her pa.

  “I suppose Mr. Barclay will invite the cowboys to the house for Christmas dinner,” she said, an idea teasing her mind.

  “Indeed, Mrs. Leach insisted we all dine together on that day,” Hubert said. “Mr. Morris never argued.”

  How sad that had been the extent of the
ir Christmas celebration here. Hopefully this year would be far different.

  She slid the cast-iron lid on the skillet just as a recognizable thud sounded in the house. But the gust of cold air that usually followed the opening and closing of a door didn’t come.

  “Did you hear the front door open?” she asked.

  He sipped his tea and carefully returned the delicate cup to the saucer. “No, I didn’t.”

  She glanced down the hall toward the front door, but didn’t see anything amiss. How odd, she thought as she added the braised chunks of meat and drippings to the noodle pot. Perhaps Miss Morris was moving around in her room.

  Hubert gave a loud sniff and frowned. “I say, have you something in the oven?”

  Oh, no! “My pudding!”

  She grabbed a heavy towel and lifted the peach tapioca from the blazing cavern. Regulating the temperature of the oven was a mystery to her.

  Her dessert didn’t smell burnt, but the edges were a tad brown and crusty. She’d have to avoid serving those parts in order to salvage the dessert.

  The back door slammed shut, leaving no question that someone had entered. The heavy footfalls left no doubt to his identity.

  Ellie didn’t have to look up to know Reid had come in. Even if she hadn’t recognized the assured, resolute cadence of his steps, she was beset by an innate sensual awareness that he was close.

  He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and looked in. “Smells mighty good in here.”

  “Thank you,” she said, unable to stop beaming at the compliment.

  A tense moment passed where he just stood there looking in, then with a negligent shrug, he ambled into the kitchen. “I’ll take a cup of coffee if you’ve got it.”

  She hurried to oblige and hid her surprise that he pulled up a chair and straddled it, as if in no hurry to leave her company, as if mingling with the help was the most natural thing to do. “How is your mare?”

  His mouth quirked to one side. “She foaled a fine dun colt about an hour ago. He ought to fetch a pretty penny.”

  “Excellent news, sir,” Hubert said. “Have you heard from the prospective buyer yet?”

  “Nary a word.” Disappointment tolled in every word.

 

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