Following the program, those attending partook of the treats brought by the women while everyone buzzed about the shooting earlier in the day. Many still didn’t make the connection between Alford and Filly, and Luke thought it was fine to keep it that way. He didn’t want people judging her for what her father had done. He wanted them to love her for the wonderful woman she was.
Among the last to leave, the Grangers helped Chauncy and Abby straighten the church before bundling up to go home. Just as they were heading out the door, Abby handed Filly a lidded basket with a wink. “Don’t forget this.”
“Thanks for keeping it, Abby.” Filly said, swinging the basket out of Luke’s reach when he stretched over to take the handles in his hand. “You stay out of my basket.”
“What’s in there?” Luke asked, growing more curious the closer they walked toward home. “Is it something for me? Something to eat?”
Filly laughed, and the sound warmed Luke from the inside out. “I should hope not.”
“Come on, let me take a peek?” Luke said, pretending to grab for the basket.
Ignoring his antics, Filly turned to Dora. “Was he this terrible as a little boy?”
“Worse,” Dora said with a stoic expression on her face, making them all laugh.
Arriving home, they took off their coats and hats and gathered in the parlor. While Luke and Greg stoked up the fire and lit the candles on the tree, Filly took her basket to the kitchen and placed the sleeping puppy in a large box padded with an old blanket she had set up in the room they used to dry laundry. Since there wasn’t anything hanging in there, it would make a perfect spot to hide the dog for the night. She hoped the box was deep enough he wouldn’t be able to climb out of it. Setting a saucer of water and a bone from the roast in the box with him, she shut the door and fixed a tray with treats.
Carrying it into the parlor, she set the tray on the low table by the couch and smiled, so pleased to see how festive Granger House looked.
“The tree is magnificent,” Filly said, clasping her hands beneath her chin. Luke turned off the gaslights so the only light in the room came from the big fireplace and the candles on the tree.
Taking filled glasses from the tray, Luke passed them around and proposed a toast. “To Filly, who has made our holiday jolly and bright, and this house a home.”
“To Filly!” Dora and Greg echoed the sentiment.
Filly blushed and smiled. “Thank you, thank you all.”
Licking her lips, Dora turned to Filly. “This is delicious. I haven’t had raspberry shrub for years and years. My mother sometimes made it when I was a girl.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Filly said, setting down her drink to pass around the pie. “My Mama used to make it, too.”
“I think we should have it every Christmas Eve,” Greg said, draining his glass of the sweet, yet tart drink. “It could be a new tradition.”
“What traditions did your family have, Filly?” Dora asked. “Luke tells us your mother was Irish. Do you have any special Irish traditions?”
“The two my Mama always made sure to honor were leaving a candle in the window, which we would light for a while on Christmas Eve. Luke, will you light ours?” Filly asked and Luke complied, quickly returning to his seat next to Filly on the couch.
“You said you had two traditions you honored. What’s the second?” Luke asked.
“Mama always left a loaf of bread baked with seeds and raisins on the table, along with a pitcher of milk and a candle. She would leave the door unlocked, so that a weary traveler might find refreshment and welcome. She said it symbolized Mary and Joseph’s trip to Bethlehem,” Filly explained. “What about the Grangers? What traditions do you always follow?”
Filly and Luke had discussed some of them, but she wanted to hear what his parents thought of as family traditions.
“We always open our presents Christmas morning instead of Christmas Eve, much to Luke’s dismay,” Dora said, finishing the last bite of her apple pie and setting the plate back on the tray. “We usually sing carols and eat treats Christmas Eve. Quite often we are gone visiting and don’t get home until late.”
“I don’t know about the visiting, but we could certainly sing carols,” Filly said, looking at the piano with longing. “I can’t play a note to save my life, but Luke’s a good singer.”
“Well, you’re in luck, Filly, dear, because I can play and I won’t even need the sheet music,” Dora said, taking a seat at the piano, running through a few chords before she pounded out Deck the Halls.
They were soon singing and laughing, enjoying the evening. When they finally checked the time, they were surprised how late the hour the clock chimed.
“I think it is off to bed for us all, so we can get up and enjoy a blessed Christmas,” Dora said, reveling in her role as mother, now that she had decided to welcome Filly with open arms and an open heart. “Turn on the lights so we can see what we’re doing, son. Let’s put out the candles and bank the fires, then go dream of sugar plums.”
“Yes, mother,” Luke said, rolling his eyes as he turned up the gas lights and started extinguishing candles. While the men and Dora did that, Filly took the tray of dishes back to the kitchen, washed up and checked on the puppy that was wide awake.
Filly took him out of the box and let him out the back door to do his business. Standing there watching him, she wished he would hurry before she either froze or Luke found his present. Finally, he came bounding up to her and whimpered, ready to be back inside where it was warm.
Picking up the puppy, she carried him to his box, gave him some meat scraps, instructing him to go back to sleep and be quiet through the night.
Setting bread and milk on the table, to follow her ancestors’ tradition, she turned off the lights and went back to the parlor where Greg and Luke were making sure every candle had been doused and the tree was safe to leave unattended.
Dora and Greg bid them good night and Luke waited until they left the room to turn off lights. Filly stood, staring into the flames of the fire as Luke slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against his chest. He breathed deeply of the rose scent in her hair and rested his chin on top of her curls.
“Merry Christmas, Filly,” he whispered in her ear, thinking again of how close he came to losing her, how very much he loved her. “You look so beautiful tonight. Is that a new dress?”
Filly smoothed a hand down her deep green velvet gown and nodded. “Abby said I had to save this one for Christmas when she was putting together my wardrobe. I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad you did, too,” Luke rumbled, transfixed by the sight of Filly in the firelight. “You look like a sprig of Christmas holly with your green dress and eyes and lovely hair the color of polished mahogany.”
She turned in his arms and offered a smile that made his knees weaken. Her hair blazed like a fiery crown while her eyes glowed like twin emeralds. Her lips, so sweet and beguiling, were more temptation than he could resist.
Lowering his head, Luke captured her rosy mouth with his. He felt her hands slide up his arms and around his neck. Pulling Filly against him, he deepened the kiss exploring, taking, giving. Finally, she pulled back with a ragged breath.
“Merry Christmas, Luke,” she said, placing a soft hand to his cheek. “How can I ever thank you for what you did today?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Luke said, brushing off any heroic efforts on his part. “The deputy took Alford by surprise and the shot went wild. Chauncy is the one who tackled your father and helped take him to the jail.”
“I know all that, but you’re the one who threw yourself between me and my father. You would have taken the bullet meant for me,” Filly said, tears filling her eyes, not wanting to think of what could have happened. “You’ve rescued me from him twice now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you. I’ll always be indebted to you, no matter what you say about this bargain.”
“I don’t want you indebted to me,” Luke said, s
tepping back and raking his hands through his hair. Turning, he leaned one arm against the mantle. Filly could see him working to keep his composure.
After a long moment, he turned and stared at her. “Blast it all, anyway,” he said, reaching out and pulling her to him. He kissed her hard and long, pouring out more passion than Filly had imagined was possible to share with another human being and not burst into flame.
“Filly, you’ve got to know by now that I lo…” Luke was cut off when a loud thumping noise erupted from the kitchen.
Grabbing the fire poker, Luke ran to the kitchen with Filly right behind him, trying to get him to stop. Luke was unknowingly going to beat his Christmas present to death.
As he turned the corner into the kitchen, Luke flipped on the light, expecting to see some vagrant sitting at the table enjoying the bread and milk Filly left out. Instead, the kitchen was empty. The sound had stopped.
Luke looked around, bewildered.
“Did you hear the noise?” he asked Filly.
“What noise?” she asked, trying to act nonchalant as she gingerly tugged on Luke’s arm, trying to draw him out of the kitchen.
“The loud thumping noise that was coming from in here,” Luke said, opening the pantry to make sure no one lurked inside.
“Maybe a shutter was banging outside,” Filly said, taking Luke’s arm and walking him to the kitchen door.
“The wind isn’t blowing tonight,” Luke said, taking another look around the room. Filly was reaching to turn off the light when the thumping started again, followed by a loud howling.
“Ha!” Luke said, running to open the door of the room above the boiler. Flinging it open, a look of surprise soon turned into a smile as he stared at the whimpering puppy. “How’d you get in here, little fella?”
Picking up the dog, Luke held him to his chest and stroked the puppy’s chin. “You’re not very big, are you?” Luke sat down in a kitchen chair and continued petting the pup.
Hearing the commotion, Greg and Dora hurried from their room to see what all the noise was about. They came to a stop when they spied Luke with the puppy.
“My gracious, where did that come from?” Dora asked, pointing at the dog like it was the carrier of some terrible disease.
“Santa left him for Luke,” Filly said, unable to contain a broad grin.
“For me?” Luke asked with a look of boyish delight that melted Filly’s already soft heart. “You got me a dog?”
“Yes,” Filly sighed, exasperated. She had so hoped to be able to keep the puppy a secret until morning. “He was supposed to cooperate and be quiet tonight so you would have a surprise in the morning.”
“I don’t mind a surprise or two tonight,” Luke said, gazing directly at Filly. She got the feeling there was more than one message his words conveyed.
Greg walked over to Luke’s chair and hunkered down. Petting the puppy, he rubbed along his back, looked into his eyes and mouth, and felt his paws. “I think he’s going to be a great dog. Looks like a smart one.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, how could you possibly tell?” Dora said, standing across the room.
Luke got up and walked over to his mother. “Don’t you want to pet him, Mother? He’s really soft.”
“No,” Dora said, shaking her head.
“Just a tiny pet?” Luke encouraged. Ignoring her protests, Luke grabbed her hand and put it on the puppy’s back.
Dora stroked her hand back and forth a few times and her frown turned to a smile. “He is soft, isn’t he?” The puppy won her over when he stretched out his little pink tongue and licked her hand.
Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to think of a really special name for this little guy.”
“Well, think all you like, but I’m going back to bed,” Dora said, grabbing Greg’s hand. “Come on, Mr. Granger, it is past your bedtime. If you don’t behave, St. Nick won’t come at all.”
“Goodnight, children. Merry Christmas,” Greg called as he and Dora walked down the hall to their bedroom.
“Merry Christmas,” Filly called after them. Turning to watch Luke with the puppy, she was thrilled he liked the dog. “I’m really sorry your surprise made his presence known a little early.”
“He’s one of the best presents I’ve ever received, Filly. I’ve been meaning to get a dog and never got around to it. How did you know I wanted one?”
“I just thought it would be a good gift. His mother was one of the best cow dogs that ever lived and his father was a good bird dog. He should make a fine dog for you for hunting or working the cattle.”
“Thank you, darlin’. He’s great,” Luke said, holding a piece of kitchen string for the puppy to chew on. “Where did he come from?”
“That’s a story for another day,” Filly said, not wanting to hear a lecture from Luke about how reckless she’d been to go out to the farm. “But Abby and Chauncy kept him at their house for a few days. Chauncy wasn’t sure he wanted to part with him.”
“Is that so? Trying to steal my Christmas present away from me,” Luke grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Filly laughed. “He was in the basket Abby handed me this evening. I was so afraid he would bark and give himself away then. I suppose it really wouldn’t have mattered much.”
Luke looked up at her with love filling his eyes and heart. “He’s just perfect, Filly. Thank you.”
“Shall we move his box out here? Maybe he’ll go to sleep if he can hear the wood pop in the stove. Abby made his bed behind their stove and he seemed to like it there.”
Luke helped her get the puppy situated, then took the fire poker back to the parlor and turned off the hall lights. Filly was washing her hands and singing an Irish lullaby to the puppy when he came back to the kitchen. The puppy’s eyes blinked slowly then closed as he fell asleep. Backing out the door, Luke quietly turned off the kitchen lights and took Filly’s hand, ready to go upstairs.
“I’ll be up in a moment,” Filly whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. “Go on up. I promise I’ll be right there.”
Kissing her cheek, Luke went up the stairs, wondering what other Christmas surprises his wife had planned. She had him feeling like a giddy child, waiting on St. Nick’s arrival.
Filly quickly pulled her gifts for Luke and his parents out of their hiding spot in the closet in her former room and placed them under the tree. Arranging the packages so they looked just right, she let out a happy sigh and hurried to the stairs.
This was the first time she had celebrated Christmas, other than in her heart, since her mother died. It was so fun and exciting, especially in this warm, beautiful home with Luke and his parents. After spending so many years alone for Christmas, feeling beaten and of no value, she gave thanks again for her new life.
As she hastened up the steps, she thought about the man waiting for her. Any doubts she had about Luke loving her vanished today when he would have given his life to save hers, had her father’s bullet not gone astray. Knowing the depths of his love, she finally felt free to be his wife. His true wife.
Quietly opening their bedroom door, she shut it behind her and took a deep breath. Luke was leaning against the mantle of their fireplace, stirring the embers. With his jacket, vest and tie removed, his unbuttoned shirt drew her attention to his broad chest. She could see his muscles bunch and move while his skin glowed bronze in the firelight.
The sight of him stole her breath away.
Hearing her come in, Luke turned his icy blue eyes on her, now warmed to molten pools. The smile he gave her was not one of mirth or friendship, but one of invitation. Setting down the poker, he held out his hand to her and Filly felt her wobbly knees carry her across the floor to her husband.
“You started to say something downstairs,” Filly said, as Luke pulled her into his arms and buried his face in the curls on top of her head. “You don’t have to say it, Luke. I know.”
“What do you know?” he asked, raising his head and rubbing his hands over the velvet of her sleev
es, along her back, around her waist.
“That you love me almost as much as I love you,” she whispered, meeting his searching gaze with assurance.
“I’ve waited forever to hear you say those words,” Luke said, kissing her neck.
“I love you, Luke Granger, with all my heart,” Filly said, feeling light-headed from Luke’s thorough attention to her neck, his touch searing her skin.
“I love you, my wild Filly,” Luke said, kissing along her high neckline before taking her lips in a demanding kiss unlike anything Filly had ever experienced or imagined.
He felt Filly stiffen and pulled back his head. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked, concerned he had frightened her with his passion.
“You never finished our kissing lessons,” she said, tilting her head to study his full lips, not looking into his eyes as she spoke. “I hope you don’t mind teaching me because I…I don’t…know exactly where to go from here.”
The heat from Luke’s eyes was enough to make Filly feel hot and cold all at the same time. A shiver swept through her as Luke teased her ear with a kiss. “I’ll be glad to show you,” he said in a husky, deep voice. “But I want to give you something first.”
Walking to the nightstand on his side of the bed, Luke opened the drawer and removed a small box, tied with a green ribbon. Taking Filly’s hand he tugged her down on the settee in front of the fire. Holding the box out to her, he wore a boyish grin. “Go ahead, open it.”
Filly tugged on the ribbon then opened the box to reveal her mother’s little heart-shaped jewelry box. A new hinge had been made with such care it matched the box perfectly. No one would know it wasn’t original to the piece. Swallowing back tears, she took a moment before she could speak. “Thank you for having this repaired. I couldn’t find it the other day and decided I must have left it downstairs, but I’ve been so busy, I forgot to look. You can’t begin to know how much this means to me.”
The Christmas Bargain Page 23