“Looks like fun to me.” Millie picked up a shovel and worked alongside him, cutting through the drifts.
It took several hours to shovel a path from the ranch house to the barn. Inside they breathed in the rich, musty scents of earth and dung that permeated the air.
While Malachite cleaned his horse’s stall and added fresh water and oats, Millie milked the cows and sent her daughters searching the straw for eggs. By the time they latched the barn door hours later, the wind was hurtling in from the north, bringing even more snow.
“It’s a good thing we shoveled this path,” Malachite muttered. “Or by tomorrow morning we’d be trapped in the house until this latest storm blew over.”
“Why do we have snow?” June’s mouth was pursed in a little pout. “It isn’t good for anything.”
“What do you mean, not good for anything?” Malachite set down the heavy milk pail and scooped up a handful of snow. Taking aim at Millie, he said, “I’ll show you what it’s good for.”
Millie shot him a look of mock anger. “Malachite Jewel, if you toss that I’ll...”
“You’ll what?” he taunted.
“I’ll be forced to defend myself. And you won’t like what I’ll do.”
“This sounds like war. All right,” he called to the three girls. “Who’s with me?”
“I am,” little June shouted, sidling up beside him.
“Me, too,” May called.
“Traitors. Wait a minute,” Millie protested. “Isn’t anyone on my side?”
“I am, Mama.” April took a step closer to her mother.
“All right. Prepare to defend yourselves,” Malachite warned. He couldn’t resist tossing the first snowball. Especially since the little girls were alternately daring him to toss it then daring their mother to do the same.
The snowball splattered against Millie’s cheek and trickled down her chin. With a shout she wiped it aside and tossed one of her own, landing it squarely on the side of Malachite’s head.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he told her. “Well? What are you waiting for?” he called to May and June as he scooped up a handful of fresh snow.
Following his lead, the two little girls prepared their ammunition and took aim. Millie and April did the same, laughing and ducking as a volley of snowballs flew through the air. When May and June took refuge behind Malachite’s back, Millie grabbed her older daughter’s hand, and dragged her closer. “Come on. We’ve got them on the run now,” she shouted, scooping up more snow as she ran.
When she got close enough, she smeared the snow across Malachite’s face.
“Oh, you’ll pay for that, Mrs. Potter.” He caught her by the shoulder and pressed a handful of snow to her face. But at the last moment she turned her head and caught the snow in her hair.
Laughing uncontrollably, they fell to their knees and began to wipe the snow from each other, while the children gathered around to watch.
“Give up?” Millie demanded.
“I guess so.” Malachite shook snowflakes from the ends of her hair. “Even though we have you outnumbered, you and April seem to have the better aim.”
Millie turned to her laughing daughters. “You’re lucky April and I didn’t want to beat you too badly.”
As she started to get up, Malachite caught her by the hand and dragged her back to her knees. “Just a minute. There’s one more thing,” he muttered.
“What’s that?”
“It’s an old Comanche custom.” Before Millie could guess what he was planning to do, he leaned close and brushed a kiss over her lips. “When a fight is ended, the two sides have to show that there are no hard feelings.”
April gaped in astonishment. May and June, enjoying the look of surprise on their mother’s face, giggled and pointed.
Millie struggled to hide the pleasure that shot through her at the touch of his mouth on hers. She braced herself against him for a moment, then allowed him to help her up. When they were standing, she said sweetly, “Now I’ll show you one of our old Texas customs.”
Malachite puckered his lips.
With one hand she pulled open the neck of his shirt. With the other she dropped a handful of snow down his chest. Then, before he could react, she raced toward the house.
In mock outrage Malachite called to her retreating back, “You’d better keep looking over your shoulder, Mrs. Potter. I intend to see that you pay for this.”
“I’ll warn you to do the same, Mr. Jewel,” she called as she ducked into the house. “Just remember. I’m a very poor loser.”
The little girls were giggling so hard they dropped to their knees in the snow.
From her position at the window, Millie watched as Malachite gathered the three little girls close and joined in their laughter. At the sight of them she felt a sudden tug at her heart. And without warning, her eyes filled with tears.
* * *
“Something smells wonderful.” Malachite stomped snow from his boots and dumped an armload of firewood beside the hearth.
“I figured since you fixed us such a delicious breakfast, I’d better make something special for supper to redeem myself.” Millie looked up from the fire. Her cheeks were red, her hair curling damply. “I hope Carmelita won’t mind that I helped myself to some of her spices.”
“At the rate that snow is falling, Carmelita might not get back here until spring.”
He breathed deeply. The kitchen smelled of apple and cinnamon. Mixed with the wood smoke, it gave the house a festive flavor.
“I’ve brought in a couple of buckets of snow,” he said.
“What for?” With her back to him, Millie stirred soup in a big black kettle.
“I thought we’d melt it over the fire and use it for baths later.”
Millie turned. “Oh, Malachite. What a grand idea. The girls would love warm baths before bedtime. And so would I,” she admitted.
“Then we’ll start heating it now, so it’ll be ready after supper.” He filled a round tub with snow and placed it over the fire. For the next hour, as the snow melted and heated, he gradually added more and more snow from the buckets until the tub was filled with steaming water.
Their hours in the fresh air made everyone ravenous. They needed no coaxing when Millie called them to a supper of spicy beef soup, followed by roast beef swimming in thick gravy and served with potatoes, turnips and bread still warm from the fire.
Malachite leaned back, sipping coffee. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything finer.”
“I hope you left room for my apple-cinnamon biscuits,” Millie said as she uncovered the basket of desserts.
“Well, maybe one bite.” Malachite helped himself to one biscuit, then another. Seeing little June watching, he winked. “Can I help it if your mother’s the best cook in Texas?”
She giggled. “Is she?”
He nodded. “Without a doubt. And that means trouble for me,” he said, patting his stomach.
“Why?”
“Because if this storm keeps up long enough and the root cellar here at the ranch keeps yielding treasures like this, and your mama keeps putting all this tempting food in front of me, by the time the snow melts, I won’t be able to see my boots.”
All three girls giggled at the thought of tall, lean Malachite getting fat.
“What did you eat when you lived with the Comanche?” June asked.
“Much the same as what you eat. Deer. Rabbit. Squirrel. And for dessert, we loved dried pumpkin meat drizzled with honey and nuts.”
“Mmm.” May turned to her mother. “Could you make that, Mama?”
Millie nodded. “I don’t see why not.”
“Didn’t you eat beef?” June asked.
He shook his head. “Not often. The People are nomads. We don’t raise cattle. But we take great pride in our horses.”
We. Millie wondered if he realized that he’d referred to himself as one of the People. Could it be that some of the pain and bitterness was beginning to ease?
“Have you ever seen a devil horse before?” June asked.
His smile was quick and warm. “Diablo is one of the most magnificent animals I’ve ever seen. But he’s no devil. Or evil spirit. He’s just a horse. And I intend to prove it. To you and to the town.”
“Nobody can catch Diablo,” April said with disdain. “Marshal Regan said half the cowboys in Texas have tried. And plenty have died trying.”
“I’ll catch him,” Malachite said softly. “And when I do, you’ll realize that he’s just a horse. What’s more, when I bring him in, his harem will follow. And I’ll have the finest breeding stock in Texas.”
At the thread of excitement in his tone, Millie turned to study him. He was always so careful to mask his emotions. But this time he’d revealed a tiny glimpse of his true feelings.
“I could help you find him,” June said.
He shoved back his chair and paused to tousle her hair. “And how could you help?”
She squeezed her eyes closed and thought for a moment. It was plain that Malachite had become her hero, and she would do anything to please him. “I can see for miles from my bedroom window,” she said solemnly. “I could watch for him. And when I spot him, I could call you, and you could chase after him.”
He was careful not to allow her to see the smile that touched his lips. “I think that’s a fine idea. When will you take the first watch?”
“Tonight. Until I fall asleep.”
“That’s good.” He began to clear the table. “You can get started right after we help your mama with the dishes.”
Millie was surprised at how quickly the three girls jumped up to carry the dishes to the sideboard.
As they finished washing and drying, April asked, “What’s on the fire, Mama?”
“A tub of warm water. Malachite has been melting snow so we can enjoy a bath. If you girls will fetch your blankets, we can get started.”
The three girls raced up the stairs and returned carrying their blankets folded over their arms. Millie took the bedding and spread it out in front of the hearth to warm.
She looked up to see Malachite pulling on his cowhide jacket. “Where are you going?”
He gave her a quick grin. “I think the four of you would appreciate some privacy. I’m heading out to the barn. I’ll check the horses, then bring in a supply of firewood for the night. That ought to give you an hour or two.”
As soon as he was gone, the three little girls stripped off their dresses and took turns bending over the tub while Millie washed their hair. Then they climbed into the warm water and splashed and giggled. Each time the water cooled, Millie added hot water until the tub was filled to the brim.
“Look, Mama.” June held up her hands. “My skin is wrinkled. What does that mean?”
“It means you’re waterlogged,” she said with a laugh. “I think it’s time to get out.”
The three little girls reluctantly climbed out of the tub and dried themselves before slipping into warm blankets.
At a discreet tap on the back door, Millie hurried over to admit Malachite, whose arms were piled high with logs. A bitter wind rushed in behind him, nearly snatching the door from her grasp.
“How was my timing?” he asked.
“Perfect. The girls are all ready for bed.”
She leaned against the door and slipped the latch, then hurried over to adjust the blankets around her daughters’ shoulders. “You need to get out of this draft. I think you’d better get right upstairs.”
“It’s going to be cold up there,” April complained, following behind her mother and sisters.
“It can’t be helped,” Millie soothed.
When they reached their bedroom, the girls were still grumbling as they climbed into bed. Millie looked up as Malachite paused in the doorway. In his hands was a thick layer of towels.
“Maybe this will help.” He crossed the room and handed it to Millie.
“It’s warm.” She glanced at him in surprise. “What’s in here?”
“Stones. I heated them in the fire,” he explained. “Then I wrapped them in the towels. If you set this under the blankets, the bed will be warm until the girls fall asleep.”
“Ooh.” The little girls’ complaints were forgotten as their feet rested on the warm bundle.
“Thank you, Malachite. I think I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to watch for Diablo.” Little June, sandwiched between her sisters, fought to keep her eyes open. But the day’s activities and the warmth of the bed were too much. Against her will, her lids closed. And she drifted into sleep.
“Thank you, Malachite,” May echoed before she followed suit.
“You’re welcome.” Malachite brushed the hair from her eyes, then took a step back.
His gaze was drawn to April. Though her eyes were heavy with sleep, she continued to stare at him.
At last she managed to whisper, “Thank you.” The words were spoken so softly they could barely be heard. Then she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
“You’re welcome.” Malachite turned and walked from the room, leaving Millie alone to tuck the blankets snugly around her daughters and blow out the lantern.
* * *
Deep in thought, Millie trailed slowly down the stairs. She was feeling anxious about this time alone with Malachite. Anxious and... expectant. Anticipation hummed through her.
Being here in Onyx Jewel’s big house, so far from town, wasn’t the same as being in her own home. There she was surrounded by memories of Mick and their life together. There among her familiar belongings, she was master of her own fate. But here she felt completely out of her element.
This was a different world. A world of success and luxury and power. A world that could belong to Malachite, if he chose to accept it.
But it wasn’t the luxurious setting or the complete isolation that concerned her. It was Malachite himself. Or, more precisely, her reaction to him. She had been barely able to resist him in her home. How would she fare in his? Especially now that she was aware of her true feelings for him?
When she entered the kitchen, she took a deep breath, then stared around in surprise. Malachite wasn’t there. Nor were his cowhide jacket and wide-brimmed hat.
The tub had been emptied. Fresh water was heating over the fire. The kitchen chairs had been set up around three sides of the tub with blankets folded over them, creating an island of warmth and privacy.
She gave a little laugh of delight at his unexpected gift. Once more he had taken himself off to the barn so that she could have this time to herself.
She filled the tub with warm water, then stripped off her gown, her chemise and her petticoat. When they were carefully folded, she stepped into the warm water and began to wash herself. Unpinning her long hair, she lathered it, then ducked under the water until it was thoroughly rinsed.
Wrapping her hair in a thick towel, she leaned back and gave a sigh of pure pleasure. What did it matter that the wind howled outside the door, bringing with it sprays of snow and sleet? She and her daughters were snug and warm and safe. Thanks to Malachite.
Malachite. She felt a twinge of guilt that he had taken himself out in the cold so that she could enjoy this luxury.
She smiled. She would make it up to him tomorrow. First she would fix him a very special breakfast. The rest of the roast beef. Coddled eggs. Thick slabs of freshly baked bread smothered with Carmelita’s wild-gooseberry preserves. And if she could find a pumpkin in the root cellar, she would fix him the special dessert he had described. Dried pumpkin meat drizzled with honey and nuts.
The water had begun to cool and she wished idly that she could add hot water to her bath and remain here for just a little longer. But she owed it to Malachite to dry herself and take her lantern upstairs so that he would know it was safe to return to the house.
Still she lingered, unwilling to end the moment. How long had it been since she had pampered herself with such luxury? She couldn’t recall the last time she’d stolen a f
ew moments just for herself.
She shivered and forced herself into action. Stepping from the tub, she wrapped herself in the warmth of a blanket. Pulling a chair close to the fire, she removed the towel from her head and began to brush her hair. That done, she picked up the lantern from the table and made her way upstairs.
Before she even reached the top of the stairs she heard the door open and close; heard Malachite’s booted footsteps; heard the sound of a fresh log being tossed on the fire.
And as she crawled into bed, she whispered a soft sigh and listened to the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. And knew that she’d been lying to herself. The truth was, she had been unconsciously hoping that Malachite would return while she was bathing. She had wanted him to see her. Just as she had wanted to see him. To see his face. To watch the way his eyes darkened with desire.
She brought both hands to her heated cheeks. What was happening to her? Worse, what would become of her if she allowed these fantasies to take hold and become reality?
She rolled over and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, hoping to blot out all thought. But it was impossible. Even with her eyes closed she could see Malachite Jewel. His dark eyes. His strong, powerful body. His hands, touching her, stroking her. And his mouth. That wonderful, clever mouth, claiming hers. Bringing her pleasure beyond anything she’d ever known.
Sleep, she knew, would be a long time coming this night.
* * *
On a swirl of snowflakes Malachite stepped into the kitchen and leaned his weight against the door until it was latched. He turned, breathing in the dampness of water and the fragrance of soap that lingered in the air.
He’d stood on the porch, watching through the window until Millie left the room. It had taken all his willpower to remain outside in the cold, knowing what awaited him just beyond the door.
Did she have any idea just how tempting she was, with all that pale creamy skin and fiery hair? Seeing her running a brush through her hair had been the sweetest torture. He’d wanted desperately to take the brush from her hands and see to that chore himself.
Even now, picturing her in bed had his blood pumping, his nerves jumping. It would be dangerous to go upstairs yet. The door hadn’t been made that would keep him out if he wanted to give in to temptation.
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