A Cheyenne Christmas

by Caroline Lee

  Ash was trying to look angry at the kid’s teasing, but couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at his lips over the ridiculous performance. Soon he was all-out guffawing, and Nate lapsed into chuckles too.

  Wiping tears from his eyes, Ash settled back down, speculating on Nate’s impression. “Yeah, she is pretty nice to have around, huh?”

  “I wish there was a way to keep her around past the spring. I’m pretty sure she likes us. Well, you at least.” Nate nudged him with his shoulder, which jarred his injury. The plaster-of-paris cast and the sling helped hold it immobile, and the constant ache was gone now. But Nate didn’t know that, and was immediately contrite. “Hell, I’m sorry! Is your arm okay?”

  It reminded Ash of how helpful his brother had been, over the last month. He’d been the one to help him onto a horse—a tame one, not the mustang he’d been working with—and drag him into town to see the Doc. Nate had cooked and managed the horses, and been Ash’s spare hand, and done it with a gentleness the bigger man couldn’t have mimicked. He’d been lucky to have Nate around, and so he just sighed, not wanting to make the kid feel guilty.

  “Nah, it’s feeling much better these days. But you’re right,” he quickly returned to the subject they’d been discussing, not wanting to lose the opportunity, “it would be nice if she’d stick around.”

  “I do the books, though, Ash. I think you did a good thing by hiring her, and it helps that we don’t have to pay her much. But even then, we really can’t keep paying her past the thaw.”

  “Yeah… uh, about that…” Ash took a deep breath. He’d been mulling this over in private for a day or two, but wanted to see what his brother—his partner—thought. “I was thinking about asking her to stay, only not really paying her, as such.”

  Nate’s brows drew in, confused, so Ash hurried on. “You said yourself that she likes us, and yeah, I know she comes with two little sisters, but I figure we can manage fine. I mean, we may have to add on a room or something next year, but still…” Nate still hadn’t said anything, and Ash felt like a fool, blathering on like that. “Um…so? What do you think?”

  The younger man was still confused, judging by the way he was hunched over the reins, and sending Ash baffled looks from beneath lowered brows. “What do I think about what? Keeping Molly?”

  Ash took another deep breath, realizing he’d made a mess of the explanation. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  The younger man didn’t respond for a long time, and Ash wished he could see more of his brother’s expression. Finally, Nate nodded slowly. “I think that’s a good idea. Her reputation’s probably ruined by now, being stuck out here with us. Marrying her would fix that. And for you, it’d be good to have her around, to help with the ranch, even after that cast comes off. It’d mean she’d have to give up on opening a bakery, and you’d have to convince her she’s not settling for you.” Ash had seen the look in her eyes when he’d stood so close; Molly Murray was thinking about kissing him as much as he’d been thinking about it. He was pretty sure he could convince her to marry him.

  Nate continued listing reasons it was a good plan, and ended with, “And of course she’s a great cook. It’s about time you settled down.” His grin was a little shaky. “A man needs sons to take over his spread when he’s old.”

  Slowly, Ash sat back, unsure what to say. Sons? He’d never considered that marrying Molly would lead to children—he sure wasn’t going to leave a woman as delicious as her untouched!—but now that he thought about it, the idea of a baby or two around was kind of nice, if Molly was the mother.

  But suddenly Nate’s hesitant response to the news made sense. If Ash married and had kids, what would happen to Nate? What would happen to the ranch? Nate had busted his rear right alongside Ash to make this place a success. Was he afraid the older man would kick him out if heirs came into the picture? Ash needed a way to tell Nate that he’d always have a home here, as long as he wanted. His kid brother needed to feel like he was wanted, too.

  And just like that, Ash solved the problem that’d been bugging him.

  He would deed half the ranch to Nate. He could do it; it was still all in his name, since he’d applied for the acreage and the increases. Half the land, and half the assets. That would make Nate feel secure enough, and show him that Ash had valued his contributions all these years. Babies or not, Nate would have a future on the ranch.

  Satisfied, Ash cleared his throat. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I have to ask her still.” Nate didn’t respond. “We have to go back into town on the seventeenth, to pick up her sisters. I figured we could do it then, if she says yes.” The younger man nodded. “But before I asked her, and changed the way things were working around here, I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

  Nate’s dark brows lowered again, but he didn’t look at Ash. “Why?”

  The older brother half-shrugged. “Because we’ve been managing alright on our own, and if she says yes, things’ll change a lot. I didn’t ask you before I hired her, and that was a pretty major change, so I should’ve. I’m sorry.” Nate looked surprised at that admission, gratified too. “So I wanted to run this by you, first.”

  Another long moment passed, and Ash hoped he hadn’t hurt Nate more than the kid was willing to admit. But then his younger brother half turned to him, his eyes bright with unshed tears and his smile gentle, and stuck out one gloved hand. Reaching across his body, Ash gripped it, feeling his brother’s strength even through two layers of leather. He shook it, proud of the kid he’d raised into a young man.

  “I hope you’ll let me stand beside you when you marry her.”

  Ash had to clear his throat, and look away, not entirely surprised by the welling of emotion. His voice was still rough, however, when he said, “Nate, there’s no one else in this whole world I’d be prouder to have next to me.”

  Neither said anything the rest of the ride back to the house. They didn’t have to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Molly had finished Annie’s blue coat. It wasn’t lined, but it would be serviceable enough to bring the girl home in. She’d made it larger than necessary, for her sister to grow into, and so that it could be worn over her current winter coat, for extra warmth. If she was able, in the next few days, she’d add pockets and a collar, and then later go back and line it. But for now, it’d keep Annie from freezing, and that was what mattered.

  Her stew was bubbling perfectly, the dumplings having just been dropped in, and the pie ready to go into the oven, when she heard voices from outside. She breathed a little sigh of relief, thinking of the late hour, and hurried to tuck a few stray curls behind her ears. She smiled at her foolishness, but didn’t stop herself from brushing the flour from her apron and making sure that her cheeks had some color. She was still smiling when she rushed to the front door and slipped out onto the front porch.

  Ash’s return smile seemed bigger, somehow, and she blushed when she noticed. Ninny, stop trying to make more of things! He was probably just happy to be home.

  She hardly noticed the chill in the late afternoon air, watching Nate grab the other end of the tree Ash was trying to hoist over the railing by himself. She hurried to help stand it up and soon both trees were leaning against the logs of the house; she dutifully exclaimed over Nate’s choice of Christmas tree, noting his pleased grin. She brushed as much snow off the branches as possible, intending to leave them out on the porch for the rest of the moisture to drip off, and hurried back to her dinner preparations.

  When the men stomped into the house, she made sure that the stew was just coming off the stove, and ready to be ladled into heavy bowls she’d found in one cabinet. Both were very appreciative, and seemed in good spirits. Again, she praised their choice of trees, explaining that the larger, rounder one would be perfect along the back wall, and that she’d use the boughs from the scrawnier one to decorate the house.

  After dinner, she cleaned up while they rested. She popped the pie in the oven
, and then, shyly, brought out the bag of popping corn. When she offered to make some, Nate’s eyes lit up.

  “Can Ash make it? He makes the best popped corn!”

  Molly smiled at his boy-like enthusiasm, but Ash was shaking his head. “Sorry, kid, I don’t think I can handle it with only one arm.” He shifted in his seat, and was suddenly piercing her with that gray gaze. “But I’m thinking Molly’s probably a deft hand at it. Why don’t we try her corn?”

  Again, Molly blushed happily, and he met her smile with an answering one. She hurried through the process of popping corn, but with Nate standing over her shoulder, she made sure that it was perfect. She dumped the fluffy kernels into a bowl, and when she saw how many handfuls Nate ate between the stove and the table, she laughed and poured more into the pan.

  She felt Ash’s eyes on her as she tried to concentrate on the kernels. He was sitting at the table, long legs stretched in front of him, occasionally stealing a handful of popped corn from Nate’s bowl. Whenever he caught her eye, he smiled, and it caused a funny fluttering sensation in her stomach. She didn’t know why he was being more open than usual, but she found that she liked it.

  They spent another hour at the table, enjoying the corn, and then the pie. Ash and Nate each exclaimed over the crisp apples and the delicate crust, and she relished the praise. Baking was her pride, after all. While they each had a third slice, she worked on stitching the popped corn kernels in a neat row. She soon had a long strand of the kernels, and Nate was eyeing them, unsure.

  “Why’d you waste perfectly good corn that way?”

  She had to chuckle, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m going to use them for decorating, along with the cranberries. One time, when I was a little girl, we had a Christmas tree decorated entirely with edible things; cranberries, corn, gingerbread cookies, sweet little sugar angels. It didn’t last long, but…” she sighed, “It smelled delicious!”

  They had to both smile over that. Then Nate spoke up again. “We’ve never had a Christmas tree. I don’t think I’ve ever had one, other than ones we’ve seen in the stores. You seem like you know an awful lot about them, though.”

  Molly smiled sadly, thinking of past years and a little boy who’d never experienced the joy of the season. “Christmas has always been the most wonderful time of the year. The time when it didn’t matter if you didn’t have enough during the rest of the year, or if you were feuding with your neighbor. You scrimped and saved and everyone got a little something in their stocking, and the food was delicious and plentiful, and you felt good about everyone, everywhere.” She closed her eyes, picturing her family’s house. “And best of all, there was always snow, to cover the buildings and the chimneys, and the terrible smoky factories. Snow seemed to make the season special, and pure.” She glanced at Ash. “Does that make sense?”

  And oddly, from his expression, she could see that it did. “So you like snow, huh? We get plenty of it, in these parts.”

  “I think it’s beautiful here, but I’ve never felt anything this cold before!” Ash smiled, and the moment of shared appreciation passed.

  Nate tried to steal some corn from her bowl, but she slapped his hand away, unthinkingly. She knew she should behave with more dignity and respect, since he was her employer’s brother, but it was hard not to treat him like the scamp he was.

  She cleared her throat. “Now that you’re all fed and happy, I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind spending some time tomorrow decorating the tree? And maybe the house as well? I know that you’ve probably got plenty to do otherwise, but I can promise some delicious snacks, if you’ll help.” She looked hopefully from one to the other. Of course, she was perfectly capable of decorating herself, and they’d already done so much by taking time to fetch the tree, but it would be more meaningful if they helped. Besides, Nate had never had the experience of decorating, of preparing for the holiday, and that anticipation was important.

  They glanced at each other, and almost in tandem, shrugged nonchalantly. Ash smiled again and turned to her. “Nothing too pressing waiting for us right now. We can give you some time tomorrow, if you’ll follow through on those snacks. And if they’re likely to be as delicious as this pie.”

  Her heart leaped, and she wasn’t sure why decorating her employer’s house had suddenly come to mean so much. Her smile probably stretched from ear to ear. “They will be, I promise!”

  She hummed her way through cleaning up, as they each busied themselves. Ash settled himself on one of the chairs in front of the fire she’d built up earlier, and invited her to join him. She did, picking up the long blue cape she was working on for Wendy. It was less involved than Annie’s coat, which is why she’d chosen the design, but it would be just as warm.

  Nate joined them at the hearth, and when she made a move to get up to give him the more comfortable seat, he waved her back, joking about “deferring to his elders”. She had to laugh at that, and at the stories he entertained her with over the next hour. Ash was surprisingly involved, telling just as many stories about Nate as a child, which made the young man laugh harder.

  Finally, Ash stood up, and Molly took that as her cue to start arranging her sewing. She glanced up to see Ash glaring at his brother. “Don’t you need to go check on something in the barn?”

  “Nah, everything was nice and—oh.” Nate’s brows rose comically. “Oh yeah, the barn. Yep, gotta go… do… something in the barn.” He rolled his eyes, and smiled at her. “’Night, Molly!”

  “Goodnight.” She watched him grab his coat off the hook beside the door, and braced herself for the blast of cold air as he slipped outside. She wondered about the exchange, but only for as long as it took to turn back. Then she wasn’t able to think at all.

  She was alone with Ash. Alone in the house, and he was looking at her with that heated stare, and she was feeling quite warm. Oh my.

  “Come here, Molly.” Even his voice was warm, and low, and she felt it down in her belly. She didn’t even think about ignoring the command, too enthralled to reason. Slowly, she crossed the braided rug to stand in front of him.

  For a long moment he didn’t do anything. Then, slowly, he raised his good hand to stroke the backs of his fingers down her cheek. She shivered, but couldn’t step back, to put some proper distance between them. She was utterly captured by the intensity in those soft eyes. She felt like she was falling into them, and unconsciously leaned closer to him.

  His smile was slight, and his gaze serious. “I like having you around, Molly.” He was whispering, but they were standing close enough that she didn’t have any trouble hearing.

  Her response was instinctual. “I like being here, with you.”

  This time his smile reached his eyes. “You fit in here, Molly. Already your sewing has a place on the mantel,” she didn’t have to turn to know it was the truth. She’d been working there every free moment, to ready the girls’ winter wear, “And you’ve reorganized the kitchen to suit you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her whisper was slight, but she meant it. She hadn’t intended to take over their house; she was just the housekeeper.

  “Don’t be.” He caught one loose curl and tucked it behind her ear, and then rested that hand on her neck. She fought to keep her cheek from pressing against his palm, and her heart steady. “It’s nice. I like that you’ve made this place your home.” He took a deep breath, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his chest strained against the fabric of his shirt. “I want you to think about making it your home longer, past the thaw.”

  She didn’t understand, and it must have shown on her face. Using gentle pressure, he brought her face a little closer to his. “Stay here with us, Molly. With me.”

  What…?And then she wasn’t thinking at all, because he’d lowered his lips gently to hers. The kiss was sweet and mild, and she held her breath to better appreciate it. Her first kiss—not counting that hotel guest’s harassment that had led to her dismissal from her job—and it was every bit as precious as sh
e’d hoped and imagined in her childish fantasies. His lips were chapped, but that made them tender. She would have thought that the beard would itch, but it was surprisingly ticklish, and she couldn’t help but smile beneath his ministrations.

  He was the one who pulled away, smiling back at her bemused expression. “Marry me, Molly Murray. Stay here and be my wife.”

  Her lips formed a small ‘oh’ of surprise, and he groaned. With one swift yank, she was plastered against him, his good arm wrapped behind her, and her hands flattened against his strong chest. She remembered the feel of his chest hair against the backs of her fingers—had it been only that morning?—and then she wasn’t thinking at all.

  If that last kiss had been soft and gentle, then this one was hard. He crushed his mouth to hers, and her heart leapt at the contact. This wasn’t the kiss of girlish fantasies, but the way a man would kiss a woman he wanted! His lips were demanding, his tongue probing and his breath hot… and she was captivated. She gave as good as she took, and learned more about men in those few busy moments than she could have imagined.

  She came to her senses a short time later, sitting on his lap, of all places, on one of the chairs. His arm was still around her, but his forehead was pressed against her shoulder, and he was panting like he’d been running. Her fingers were gently stroking the muscles of his left arm, over the cast. He was so firm, so warm. He made her feel things she’d never felt in areas she hadn’t known could feel. There was a warmth between her legs that she couldn’t explain, but she squirmed a bit on his lap.

  He barked out a hoarse laugh. “Molly, don’t do that. In fact, don’t move at all.”