A Cheyenne Christmas

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A Cheyenne Christmas Page 3

by Caroline Lee

He was mulling over the collection of ready-made clothes, hoping his backup long johns would make it through another season, when a gust of wind and the tinkling of the door chimes heralded another customer’s arrival. Old man Bullard was in the back, checking on his selection of jerky for Ash. There was no one else to take the newcomer’s order, and Ash figured they’d leave again soon enough.

  So when he rounded the table and moved on to the next aisle, the last thing he expected was to come face-to-face with a weary-looking Miss Molly Murray. The crisp gray wool outfit she’d looked so fine in that morning was bedraggled, with slush around the hem. Her hair was coming loose from the bun she’d fashioned, and those little wispy curls floating at her temples and base of her neck made her more approachable.

  And Ash very much wanted to approach her. As someone who’d spent his life happily secluded on his ranch, he was surprised to discover how much he wanted to get to know Miss Murray. She was beautiful, and obviously had guts. Coming all this way from Chicago—Nate had told him she didn’t know anything about the west—had been brave, but then standing up to him when he was so angry? That’d really impressed him, even if he hadn’t let her ire distract him from saying his piece to his wayward brother.

  She was brave, alright, but particularly fine-looking too. He didn’t have much use for most women, them being so much smaller than him. He’d been with a few here and there, but always worried he’d hurt them. And well-brought-up young ladies took one look at him, with his height and breadth, and what Nate called his “scary face”, and crossed the street rather than pass by him.

  But Miss Molly Murray was another matter. She had the guts to yell at him, and she came up past his chin. Why, he wouldn’t have to bend down very far at all to kiss her, and he’d been thinking that more than once since they officially met this morning. She wasn’t rail-thin, either, like some of the young misses in town. No, she had enough to her that he knew she wouldn’t blow over in a stiff breeze, and that she’d be a handful for any man lucky enough to bed her. Exactly the kind of woman Ash enjoyed looking at…. and kissing, come to think of it.

  She had thick brown hair, and wide brown eyes that reminded him of hot coffee with fresh milk. And Lord help him, she had dimples that showed up in her round cheeks at even the slightest smile. He’d always liked dimples.

  Yep, Molly Murray could surely disrupt his way of life, if he let her. And he found that he just didn’t care.

  So he was smiling when he bobbed his head in greeting. “Howdy, ma’am. Have any luck today?”

  Her shoulders slumped further. “No, nothing. Not a single establishment in this town appears to be hiring cooks, or even a maid or stockgirl. I am perfectly capable, despite my age, but no one seems to be willing to give me the chance!” He liked the way she forced her back straight again, and stuck out her chin stubbornly. “I want to ask at this store; perhaps the owner needs seasonable help?”

  Ash shook his head. “Sorry ma’am. Old man Bullard has three sons, two daughters, and a daughter-in-law. He and his wife have plenty of help around the store.”

  She sighed, and for one moment the determined mask slipped, and he caught sight of the despair and hopelessness in her eyes, before she plastered a small grin back onto her face. “Well, then, I’ll cross this establishment off my list. I believe I have time to ask in a few more stores, before it’s fully dark.”

  Not ready to let her leave yet, Ash said, “What kind of work are you willing to do?”

  “Anything, really. I’ve the most experience with baking, but I’m an excellent cook, and love to do it. I can work as a maid, or seamstress, or wait on customers.”

  And suddenly, Ash was struck with the perfect solution to his problems. He needed another set of hands out on the ranch, and she needed some kind of work. “How about housekeeping?”

  “I’ve been keeping my own house since I was sixteen. Why, do you know anyone who needs a housekeeper?” Her eyes had lit up with excitement, and those dimples were back. There was no way Ash was going to disappoint her now.

  “We could use some help out at the ranch.” Her mouth formed a little “oh” of surprise, and he hurried through his explanation. “I busted my arm pretty badly about a month ago. Doc Sanderson had to actually cut it open to reset it, and he says I can’t use it again for at least another month. We’ve been scraping by, but the house is a mess, and,” he glanced around, making sure his brother was out of earshot, “Nate can’t cook for sh—” He cleared his throat. “He can’t cook very well.” When she started worrying her lower lip, thinking about his offer, he continued. “I can’t promise the job’d be much good past the thaw, because I should be healed up by then. But if you’re looking for a place to spend the winter, we could use an extra hand. In fact, I’m not sure if we’ll make it through the winter without someone else out there to help.”

  She was quiet for a long minute, and he found himself holding his breath. She was idly stroking the material under her hand, and staring at his chin. Finally, she met his eyes. “Would I have my own room?” Ash nodded. They could rearrange the loft, and hang up a quilt or two for privacy. “So room and board are included. Hmmm.” Another long thoughtful pause. “What salary are you offering?”

  Ash swallowed. He didn’t rightly know what housekeepers were paid. “Listen, I can pay you, but this arm has cost me a lot.” His years hunting buffalo had made him a pile of money, and his way with the wild mustangs they caught and trained had made him wealthier still. But he’d had to use a lot of his savings over the last month, paying for goods they wouldn’t normally have to buy. “But if you’re getting room and board, what kind of salary are you expecting?”

  She watched her draw herself up, all business now that negotiations were underway. “Enough to pay the rent at a boarding house in town for my sisters.”

  Ash was so surprised, he snuck a glance behind her, looking for these sisters she claimed to have. She must have seen him do it, because she actually smiled. She looked like she might have been laughing at him, and he didn’t mind one bit. He was too busy enjoying the way those plump cheeks dimpled and those coffee-brown eyes lit up.

  “My sisters are still in Chicago, but will be joining me here shortly. That’s why I needed to find a job so quickly. We’re interested in making a new start, so I came out first to make sure I could support them.”

  “How many sisters are we talking about, here?”

  Another one of those smiles, and he found himself smiling back. “Wendy is thirteen, and Annie is seven. Truthfully, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Annie here in Cheyenne while I’m at your ranch. She—isn’t well.” Why the hesitation there? “But your offer is the only one I’ve received all day—the only respectable offer, that is—so I shouldn’t turn it down.”

  “What Annie has isn’t catching, is it?” Molly shook her head, and he shrugged. “Well, bring them along too.”

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his in disbelief. He almost winced. He was a man who valued his privacy, but they needed help on the ranch, at least through the winter. Things were precarious enough that he’d gladly take on three more mouths, if it meant they could work to keep themselves alive. Besides, he’d get to have the fascinating Miss Murray on hand. So he nodded. “If you three can share a room, and you’re willing to take room and board for all of you in exchange for an outrageous salary, I’ll hire you.”

  There was barely any hesitation when she stuck her hand towards him. He wrapped his large hand around hers, and was surprised and pleased to feel the calluses under his fingers. Here was a woman who wasn’t afraid of hard work. Exactly the kind he admired.

  “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Barker.”

  Nate chose that time to show back up, carrying a new hat. “Whatdya think?” He cocked it over one eye, and struck a manly pose. “Also, what deal?”

  “You look like an idiot. And Miss Murray is our new housekeeper.”

  Nate snatched the hat off his head, and shot Ash a look that asked
him if he was serious. Ash nodded, and Nate looked disapproving for a moment, before that wry little grin returned, and he nodded towards Miss Murray. “That’s great! It’ll be nice to have someone else around for a change.”

  Ash didn’t have to ask what his brother’s disapproval was about, he knew. A young, unmarried lady like Molly Murray out on his ranch, all winter? Even if nothing happened between them, the townsfolk would talk. Her reputation would likely be in tatters, and Ash couldn’t even make himself care.

  He looked down at their hands, still clasped, and was surprised to find his thumb making unconscious circles against the smooth skin on the back of her hand. And she wasn’t making any move to pull her hand away, just making small talk with Nate about the ranch. It felt natural to Ash, to be holding her hand like this. To be holding her.

  He smiled, and had to chuckle at himself. It got her attention, and he heard the way her breath hitched when she looked up at his face. He didn’t know why, but he had his hopes.

  “Finish up here, Nate, and tell Bullard to put it on our tab. We’re taking Miss Murray out to dinner tonight, to seal the bargain.” And he’d get the chance to learn all about his new housekeeper.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  And thus, the very next afternoon, Molly was on her way to Ash Barker’s ranch. She was conflicted about this; part of her thought it rash and dangerous, to take a stranger up on his offer of employment, and to travel to his home, miles from civilization. But the other part of her—the part that ultimately had won—remembered that during days of searching in other towns, and all day yesterday, she’d been turned down by every shop and establishment. Ash and his brother were the only ones who’d been willing to hire her. And besides, Ash was a little scary-looking at first, but she couldn’t deny that she was utterly fascinated by him, and the gentle look in those soft ash-gray eyes. She’d be traveling to his home, and would be seeing him every day. Surely she’d settle into a routine, and her breath wouldn’t catch every time she met his eyes?

  Dinner the night before had been a revelation. He might be intimidating, but he had a way of setting her at ease, without ever once smiling or cracking a joke, the way most other men did when they wanted a woman to like them. Instead, he asked about her family, about her past, and seemed genuinely interested in her stories. And in return, he answered her questions about the ranch and how the two brothers had become a family.

  She saw the way Nate treated him, like an older brother who would never harm him, and grew bold enough to ask after their disagreement the day before. To her surprise, Ash explained part of it, and Nate took up the story after. Neither slighted the other, and both accepted responsibility for their role in the argument. Molly was impressed; how often had she and her sisters bickered, and afterwards refused to see their own stubbornness as the cause?

  They’d discussed logistics of her employment, and what supplies they had at the ranch. She asked after their Christmas traditions, and was surprised when they both admitted to having none. When she pushed them, she saw Nate’s wistful look, and decided then and there that this Christmas would be special. Wendy and Annie would have their first real Christmas celebration in years, and Nate could experience something every boy should know; the wonder and joy of the holiday season.

  This morning she’d rushed to be ready to leave on time. She’d visited the train depot for a schedule, and then sent the girls a telegraph advising them to come to Cheyenne immediately, even including specific travel instructions. Since the telegraph office wouldn’t be able to reach her with their reply, she told them she was unreachable, but would be waiting for them at the depot on the afternoon of the seventeenth. If something—such as weather—prevented her from meeting them, they were to secure lodging and leave word at the depot. It was worrisome to someone like her, who liked to have control over situations and a plan for everything, but she knew that Wendy was smart and would make the right decisions. Hopefully, though, they’d all be together by Christmas Eve.

  Then she’d gone back to Bullard’s Dry Goods, to pick up the items she thought she would need to run a household through the winter. She found herself excited at the prospect of tackling a new and different role; she’d run her own home in the years since her parents had died, but never one so isolated, and never for two strangers. Knowing that her sisters would soon be with her, and that they would be having a real Christmas, was part of her excitement.

  At Bullard’s she picked through spices, and added more flour, sugar, salt, and other cooking necessities to Ash’s tab. She included a big bag of popping corn and a smaller one of cranberries. Both would be delicious, and had the added bonus of being useful as decorations. There was a big spool of red ribbon, and smaller one of white ribbon, and several bundles of cinnamon sticks. She’d use them in cooking, but the spice was always indicative of the season, and she was looking forward to scenting Ash’s home with it.

  Her new employer showed up as she was looking over the bolts of cloth. He told her he’d picked up enough butter, eggs, cheese, pickles, dried meat and other perishables to last all five of them through the winter, and everything was waiting out front on the sleigh, along with her trunks. Now that he was here, she was almost embarrassed by how much she’d bought with his money, but he politely and impassively started loading her purchases onto the sleigh.

  When he’d gone out the door for the last time, she hurried over to the counter with two bolts of cloth she’d picked out. One, a thick blue wool, would make serviceable coats and gloves for her and her sisters, who owned nothing warm enough for a Cheyenne winter. The other bolt was a soft gray cotton that reminded Molly of Ash; she knew it was a silly reason to buy it, but surely she’d be able to make new dresses and underclothes with it as needed.

  She was so focused on her inner justifications that she almost didn’t notice the clerk, a young woman with a pinched mouth, giving her disapproving glances. Molly didn’t have the chance to ask, before the woman said with a raised brow, “Mr. Barker is certainly buying a lot of things for you.”

  Molly flushed at the implication that Ash was gifting her these things. “I’m his new housekeeper. He merely had me choose the items most necessary for his home.”

  At the woman’s sharp intake of breath, Molly met her eyes and saw the scorn in them. It didn’t take long for understanding to dawn; Molly was about to venture into the wild with a strange man and his brother, to live alone on their ranch. Her reputation would be surely ruined.

  She resisted the urge to flush in embarrassment and duck her head. Instead, she straightened her back, stuck her chin out, and reminded herself of her choice. It was her choice to come to the west, to search out new opportunities to follow her dream. It was her choice to work hard, and give up the chance at a home of her own, so that her sisters could one day achieve that goal. What did it matter if her reputation was ruined by living with Ash Barker? As long as her sisters had the opportunity to make their own lives, it would be worth it. And besides, it didn’t need to be for more than a few months; Ash had said that they couldn’t afford to keep her past his arm healing, and then the three Murray sisters could travel on to Salt Lake City, and start new lives again there.

  So Molly paid for her cloth with as much dignity as she could muster, and marched from Bullard’s with her head held high, and tried to pretend that living with Ash Barker was going to be a sacrifice she willingly made.

  The only problem was, the more time she spent in his company, the more she wondered if it was really going to be a sacrifice. The man was courteous and kind in his own taciturn way, and becoming more handsome by the minute. She sat beside him on the ride to his ranch, and while he made no effort to engage her in conversation, he answered her questions honestly and in plenty of detail.

  At first, she was distracted enough by the scenery to forget about the niceties of conversation. She’d traveled across the plains by rail, and had seen flatter land… but as Cheyenne receded behind them, she was struck by the nothingness. Along t
he rail, there’d been small towns or depots. Out here, for as far as she could see in any direction, there was nothing but snow-covered scrub, with hills in the distance. But strangely, she liked it. She could see the lonely beauty in it, and admired the kind of person who could make a home out here.

  She hadn’t even been on the sleigh for an hour when she realized that the winter coat she wore wasn’t going to be sufficient protection from the Cheyenne winter. Ash saw her rub her legs to warm them, and without a word, pulled a buffalo robe forward and draped it over her lap. It was cozier than she could have imagined, but didn’t help her shoulders, which were just as chilled. She inched closer to him, drawn by his heat, and stopped only when their shoulders touched. It was such a small thing—such an inappropriate thing!—but his touch made her warm all over, and she finally sighed in contentment.

  Nate picked his way behind the sleigh, allowing the larger horse pulling the vehicle to tamp down more of the snow for his animal. But by turning slightly, Molly was able to carry on a conversation, and discovered more about the outgoing, gregarious young man. She discovered that his mother had been following the railroad as it was built, earning her keep various ways—Nate had the good grace to blush at this remark—and he didn’t know who his rightful pa was. After she’d died he’d just kept on following the rail-workers, doing whatever odd-jobs he could to stay fed and warm. It had been a hard life on a small child who’d inherited his grandmother’s dark skin and hair, and stood out as obviously Indian in a place as prejudiced as the west. When the railroad had reached Cheyenne, he’d gotten into some trouble with a local drunk, and Ash came upon him just in time to halt a deadly beating. When he’d recovered well enough, he decided that he was done with the railroad. Because Ash was the only person who’d ever stuck his neck out for him, Nate decided to find this mysterious man who lived outside of town.

  “Goodness!” That was quite a tale. “How old were you?”

 

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