Then he did the stupidest thing of his life. He rode into Laramie and proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk. He was grieving for the man before he ever drew his last breath.
The rest Reid didn’t remember.
He pushed to his feet and left his office. The house was quiet save the ticking of the grandfather clock.
A full moon shot beams through the front window to lend a glittering magic to the ornaments hanging on the tree. He jammed his hands in his pockets and stepped into the parlor scented with cinnamon and pine.
Ellie had gone to a lot of fuss. Had she taken time to enjoy it?
He didn’t know. Nearly every time he saw her she was working or attempting to cook.
The soft strains of a guitar drifted on the night air, the melody one he’d heard a time or two from carolers strolling the streets of Maverick. He’d never understood what folks got out of it besides cold feet and a strained throat.
Same with the tree and all the fripperies. He didn’t know where Ellie had found the time to string popcorn and cranberries, but she’d embraced that job with glee.
Finding the right tree was no different.
His mouth quirked in a smile as he recalled that day. She’d frustrated the hell out of him, and sparked a fierce desire in him too.
He moved to the sofa he never recalled using and sat in the dark, finding an odd peace as muted moonlight flickered over the bright ornaments on the tree.
He’d never been one to ruminate, but he caught himself wondering how different his life would’ve been if his ma would’ve lived. Would he have found that set of carved horses in his stocking? Would he have celebrated this holiday with a glad heart?
The glow from a lone candle arced into the parlor a heartbeat before Ellie walked in. She lit the globe lamp, then set the candle on a table near the tree, humming the melody Shane was picking out on the guitar.
She kept her back to him as she secured small tins on the boughs, taking her time. When she’d finished that, she went back to each one and stuck a small candle on the holders.
She lit each one and stepped back with a pleased sigh.
He tore his gaze from her and took in the tree twinkling with candlelight. “That’s mighty pretty.”
She whirled to face him. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
“You were intent on your chore.” They stared at each other across the room, her eyes wide and misty. “Sit with me?”
To his surprise, she crossed to the sofa and sat beside him. He hesitated a second before draping an arm around her shoulders and tucking her against his side.
A sense of rightness hummed around him. “Do you always go to this much fuss?”
She laughed. “Sometimes I do more, especially in the school.”
“We never had a tree in the orphanage,” he said. “Kirby never bothered with one either.”
“Perhaps it is more woman’s work. My pa didn’t put up a tree either the first year after my mother died.”
He recalled her mentioning it shortly after she came to work here. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
The same age he’d been when he’d struck out on his own with Dade and Trey. “Did you see your pa much after that?”
She fidgeted with her hands. “He came to visit when he could.”
He suspected that wasn’t much. “He still alive?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t offer more, but even if she was a mind to, Hubert chose that moment to join them. He set down a heavy tray and gazed at the tree.
“It is quite lovely, Miss Cade,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Hubert glanced at Reid cozied up on the sofa with Miss Cade. “I’ve prepared my yearly eggnog. Would you both care for a glass?”
“That would be nice,” she said.
Reid nodded. As he recalled, Hubert’s eggnog was mighty potent stuff.
The old servant handed them their glasses of eggnog, then returned to the tree and the book he’d set on the chair. He took his seat and put on a pair of wire spectacles.
“If neither of you object, I’ll read a Christmas Eve poem an acquaintance of mine sent me.” His gaze lit on Reid’s in silent challenge, dragging a smile from him.
“Fine by me,” Reid said.
As long as Ellie would sit here beside him, he’d go along with damn near anything.
“Please, go on,” Ellie said.
Hubert opened the volume and began. “’Twas the night before Christmas…”
Reid sipped what must be hundred-proof eggnog and listened to Hubert’s animated voice recanting the lighthearted poem. When Hubert was finished, he closed the book, removed his spectacles and rose.
“Goodnight all,” Hubert said. “Pleasant dreams.”
Reid and Ellie remained on the sofa, but he sensed the tension returning to her. Hell, did she think he expected her to sleep with him again?
Though he’d like nothing better, he knew that wouldn’t happen again unless she wanted it. That time might never come.
“I want you to have this.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out the ring, then pressed it into her palm. “If things had gone different, I’d have asked you to be my wife.”
She stared at the small gold band. “I can’t accept this.”
“Sure you can.” He leaned forward and kissed her brow, drinking in her lilac scent. “Keep wishing on cornhusk angels, Ellie. One day they might come true for you.”
With that he got to his feet and walked out of the parlor. But instead of seeking his room, he stepped outside just as Shane sang the last chorus of a carol.
A warm breeze swept over the plains, feeling more like spring than winter. But winter would return with brutal force.
And in the dead of night, he’d remember snuggling with Ellie on the sofa one warm evening while an old man recanted the magic of Christmas.
He wanted to marry her.
Ellie curled in bed long into the night with the gold band clutched tight in her fist. She couldn’t recall her heart ever being this heavy, for while Irwin had broken off their engagement because she wasn’t good enough, Reid withheld asking because he was afraid he’d have nothing to offer her.
Never mind that he was Slim Cullen, the man her pa was gunning for.
Never mind that her pa was an outlaw that Reid Barclay openly reviled.
He wanted to marry her, and if the situation was right, he’d have proposed.
She pinched her eyes shut and squeezed out a tear. What would she have said?
Maybe the better question was, what would he have done when he learned the woman he wanted to marry and her father had deceived him from the start?
Oh, she should have told Reid the truth right then.
Tomorrow, she thought as she slipped the ring on her third finger. She’d tell him all tomorrow.
Ellie woke in far brighter spirits at the crack of dawn. She admired the lovely ring Reid had given her before threading it on a ribbon and tying it around her neck.
The gold band nestled between her breasts, close to her heart. This was the only way she’d dare to wear it, but that didn’t diminish its significance.
He’d marry her if he could.
That meant he cared.
And a man that cared that much, to buy a wedding ring for a woman he didn’t think he could marry, would surely understand why she’d held her secret for so long.
It was high time Reid learned the truth. Not just about her. But about her pa as well.
Surely there were enough hands on the ranch who could attest to the fact that Gabby Moss was busy working when someone used his name to rustle Reid’s prize stallion.
Surely Reid would see that as well.
She dressed and hurried to the kitchen, determined to outdo herself. Considering her past efforts, that shouldn’t be difficult.
After wrestling the turkey roaster into the oven, she laid out a buffet line in the dining room and set to work on breakfast. She’d just retur
ned from setting out the platter of bacon when the back door opened and three cowboys ventured in.
“Ma’am,” Shane said. “Was we to take breakfast here as well as dinner?”
She removed the second batch of hotcakes to a platter without a mishap. “I don’t see why not. Just head into the dining room and take a seat.”
The trio didn’t budge. “You sure about that?”
“Of course I am,” she said as she got a firm hold on the platter. “That table is large enough to accommodate a crowd. Just follow me.”
She bustled into the dining room just as Reid entered from the other door. “Good morning! You’re just in time. Dig in.”
He glanced at the cowboys. “Well, you heard the lady.”
After flashing Reid a smile, she ducked back into the kitchen. One meal down and the main one to go.
“Ellie!” Reid shouted.
Please, don’t let the hotcakes be undercooked.
Dread settled over her shoulders as she returned to the dining room. “Do you need something?”
“Yes, you.” He motioned to the chair next to Hubert. “This is Christmas. We’ll all eat together.”
“Oh, of course.” She slid onto a chair, noting the cowboys seemed as nervous about her being here as she was. “Is this everyone?”
“No, ma’am,” Shane said. “We’re eating in shifts so the stock won’t be left unguarded.”
That reminder put a bit of a damper on her mood. She’d be glad when the rustler posing as her pa was caught.
“Neal and Moss ain’t got back from town yet,” one of the young cowboys said.
“But they will return for dinner?” she asked, more than a bit unnerved to hear her pa had left the ranch, today of all days.
She was under the impression that he’d been very careful about venturing around too many people. Just because he’d changed his appearance so drastically didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t recognize him.
The cowboy frowned, glancing from his peers to her. “Neal said he’d come home today, but Moss—” He shook his head and frowned. “He was supposed to be back last night.”
The forkful of pancake she’d just chewed dropped into her stomach like a lead ball. “You don’t suppose something has happened to him?”
The cowboy shrugged. The other two didn’t bother to comment. In fact none of them looked concerned, including Reid, which only served to crank her anxiety up another notch.
“Moss likely decided to celebrate the holiday at Mallory’s,” Reid said, and sent her a meaningful look that she finally understood.
Her cheeks burned. Good heavens, she didn’t care to imagine her pa seeking female companionship. Not that she didn’t want him to be happy. It was just that imagining him off entertaining a lady clouded the picture she had of her parents in happier times.
“Mighty fine breakfast.” Shane rose and added a nod to the compliment.
“Thank you,” she said, inordinately pleased.
The two younger cowboys got to their feet as well, with one still chewing the last hotcake he’d just shoveled in.
“Much obliged, ma’am,” said the one she’d been talking to, and the other nodded his thanks.
“I’m delighted you enjoyed it,” she said. “Did you both get enough to eat?”
They tripped over themselves, nodding and thanking her again as they backed out of the dining room.
“I’d better cook some more,” she said, and hastened into the kitchen.
As before, the bacon cooked itself with very little tending on her part.
But this batch of hotcakes took more pains, and not just in timing them right to flip. The batter had thickened, and they tended to be twice the size of the first ones. It didn’t help that her thoughts kept turning to her pa.
After going through the first batch that were less than attractive and far browner than she liked, she managed to fill a second platter with hotcakes.
She delivered them to the table at the same time three more cowboys arrived for breakfast. Like the others, they made short work of the food and coffee, requiring her to fill the pot twice.
If only her Christmas dinner would be as much of a success, she thought as the last trio of cowboys dawdled over their coffee, discussing ranch details with Reid. She gathered the dirty dishes in a neat stack and started toward the kitchen.
The back door banged open and shut, and boots pounded on the floor. A cowboy burst into the dining room, breathing hard.
“You ain’t going to believe this, boss,” he said.
Ellie held her breath, hoping the rustler hadn’t struck again.
“I’m listening, Neal,” Reid said.
“The marshal threw Gabby Moss in jail,” he said.
No! Ellie tightened her hold on the plates as her world tipped on its axis. It couldn’t be, she thought, her head buzzing and growing far too warm.
“Except he ain’t Moss at all but Ezra Kincaid himself,” Neal finished.
“What?” Reid thundered.
That’s when the buzzing in her head drowned out all other sound. She lost her hold on the plates, letting them drop with a clatter while her knees buckled and she crumpled in a heap.
Chapter 21
Ellie came awake with a start, mindful of exactly what had happened. Her pa was in jail. Dear heavens, the truth was out.
Things were still a bit muzzy, but she couldn’t dawdle. She made to rise, desperate to get to him now.
“Whoa up there,” Reid said, pressing her shoulders back down on the sofa. “You’re not going anywhere until we figure out why you fainted dead away.”
Uh-oh, this wasn’t going to be pleasant or easy.
“Perhaps I ate too much.”
“Try again.”
She blinked to clear the remaining fog from her vision and wished she hadn’t. Reid looked angry and tense, so unapproachable she wanted to scream.
“Shock,” she said, which was the truth.
His gaze narrowed to slits. “Over?”
She swallowed. “Gabby Moss being arrested.”
“Now why would that upset you so?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft and his gaze incredibly intense.
She pinched her eyes shut and said, “Because he’s my father.”
Ellie was certain she’d never heard such deafening silence in her life. She was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid to look at him and see out-and-out hatred blaze in his eyes.
She chanced a peek at him, then another.
He stared at her without heat. Without censure. In fact, he stared at her as if she were a stranger, and one he wasn’t too anxious to know.
“Ezra Kincaid is your pa,” he said at last, and she bobbed her head in answer.
He looked away, and that’s when she saw the muscle hammering away in his cheek. He wasn’t angry. No, he was furious.
She’d expected that, but still it hurt. “I’ve got to go to him, Reid.”
“Not yet. Not until I get some answers.” But he did move aside and let her sit up.
She straightened her skirt and clasped her trembling hands together, feeling sick, and scared and angry as hell too. “What do you want to know?”
“What was your part in this?”
“There wasn’t a conspiracy,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers now.
“Don’t lie to me, Ellie,” he said. “Mrs. Leach convinced me to hire you while she was away. Why?”
She couldn’t very well deny that fact. “In her own words, she hoped I could stop my pa from putting his neck in the noose.”
He tossed his head back and gritted his teeth so hard she could hear bone grinding. “She knew he was Kincaid.”
It wasn’t a question, but she bobbed her head anyway. “She told me she recognized my pa shortly after he hired on.”
One dark eyebrow winged upward. “I always suspected that Mrs. Leach knew him back in her sporting days.”
“Yes, she admitted as much to me. Pa knew where I lived, but he’d decide
d to stay out of my life so I wouldn’t be shamed or shunned.” Ellie gave a short laugh, for despite his caution, she’d been shamed and shunned anyway. “Anyway, Mrs. Leach contacted me some weeks back. I hadn’t even known where he was, or that he had assumed another name. She didn’t even tell Pa she’d written to me.”
“Why’d she do it?”
She’d asked herself that many times. “She was worried that Pa had become obsessed with finding Slim Cullen.”
He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Do I have any secrets left?”
Plenty, she imagined. “I didn’t tell Pa that I’d found out you were Slim.”
He flinched. “Where’s my stallion?”
“I wouldn’t know, and neither would Pa,” she said. “Someone is rustling and using his name.”
He pushed to his feet and strode to the window, his spine one tense, unyielding line of masculinity. “All right. We’ll head into Maverick and see what Moss has to say.”
Ellie didn’t bother to paste a polite smile on her face as she stormed into the jail. The long, tense drive into Maverick had frayed her nerves.
Marshal Tavish was seated at his desk. He straightened at her approach and offered a smile.
“I’ve been expecting you, Miss Cade.”
She marched up to his desk and slapped both palms on his desk. “How did you know it was him?”
“That was just luck on my part,” he said, as the door opened again and Reid walked in. Tavish paid him a passing glance before facing her again. “I was at the mercantile looking to buy a new knife when your pa came in to buy a gift for his daughter.”
“Oh, no,” she said, swaying under the immense guilt.
Tavish shook his head. “Moss neglected to buy a doll for his daughter years back when she asked for one, so he was set on making amends to Ellie Jo.”
Ellie dropped onto the chair, heartsick that he’d gotten in this fix because of her. “You knew who I was.”
“Yep. It was easy to see then why a teacher took on the cook’s job at the Crown Seven.” Tavish tipped his head to the side and eyed her. “I knew then that Gabby Moss was the notorious Ezra Kincaid.”
A Cowboy Christmas Page 25