by Various
“Ayuh,” he replied, which meant she had to turn away because she had no proof against that.
His hands went to her shoulders. He turned her around, uncertainty written all over his capable face, the one she had thought so weatherbeaten and hard but which was exactly right. “Just teasing.”
“I know that,” she whispered. “It’s hard to leave friends.”
* * *
They arrived in Medicine Bow with time to settle Mr. Avery into a pleasant room on the ground floor of the doctor’s office. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Pa, or maybe the day after, if it takes me more time to find a hired hand,” Ned said.
“Shouldn’t,” Mr. Avery said. “I’d be surprised if there weren’t a whole brace of out-of-work hands eager to sign up.”
“What about you, Katie Peck?” Mr. Avery asked her. “You know you don’t have to leave, if Saul Coffin isn’t quite the man you remember.”
She nodded, too full of love to speak, and kissed Mr. Avery’s cheek. “We’ll see.”
Mr. Avery motioned her closer. “My boy’s a little slow, and I’m not talking about Pete. You might need to do the nudging.”
She left before she started to weep. A few deep breaths righted her equilibrium. She wondered what had happened to the capable mill girl who never cried. I’ve changed, she thought. Whether for better or worse, she didn’t know, because change was hard.
The Union Pacific was on time for once, although the conductor mentioned that past Cheyenne that would change because of the snow, or so he had heard via telegraph. Ned seemed disinclined to talk, which hardly surprised her. He touched her heart when he leaned against her and slept. She did the same, peaceful at last when his arm went around her, too.
Full dark came an hour before the conductor announced their arrival in Cheyenne. She stood up, grateful Ned had insisted on accompanying her to the Plainsman Hotel. Other ladies in the train car had their escorts, none finer than hers, she told herself. She looked as good as they did, with her handsome navy blue coat. Her hat wasn’t much, but it was an Eastern style.
In the dark, she admired Ned’s capability and courage, well aware that these qualities were found in his generous heart, hers alone to see. She tightened her grip on Ned’s arm, which made him look down in surprise.
“Things’ll turn out better this time,” he said. “Someone is waiting for you.”
Someone was. She looked around when they entered the hotel lobby and there sat Saul Coffin. He stood up when he saw her, but stayed where he was.
“Don’t leave me here,” she said, suddenly afraid he would disappear. “Not until I know.”
“I’ll wait here,” Ned said. “Go on, now. He’s expecting you.”
“Don’t you want to meet him?” she asked, then held her peace when she saw the look of distrust in Ned Avery’s eyes. She glanced at Saul, and saw the same look.
Katie took a deep breath and walked toward Saul Coffin.
He looked the same, but it had only been six months since she had last seen him. He had left the mill long before her, the better to get things set up for her arrival, he had told her. How many times had he bragged to the others about his cousin out in Wyoming who wanted him to go into the ranching business with him?
He was more handsome than Ned, and he dressed so well. The closer she came, the more she knew something had gone wrong. She saw it all over his face.
She held out her hand. “Saul, I suppose late is better than never.”
“You didn’t make it easy for me to find you,” he complained, and stepped back when she raised up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“I was here when you said, just as I am now,” she said, stung that he chose not to accept her affection, and not willing to apologize for something that wasn’t her fault. “Mr. Avery over there left my name and his address with the sheriff. That’s how you found me, wasn’t it?”
“You were pretty quick to go with him,” he said, still standing apart from her.
“I knew no one here. I had no money. He offered me a job to tend his father. I’m the chore girl.”
They looked at each other; he looked away first.
“What now, Saul?” she asked.
He sighed so loud Katie wondered if Ned could hear him. “I am not staying here,” he announced. “It’s too hard. The house my cousin promised is a two-room shack.” He held out his hands. “I have these callouses and blisters.”
She stared at him. “Think of what you said in Massachusetts! How your cousin’s ranch was the perfect place for a man with ambition to get ahead.”
“I’m glad you’ve never been mistaken about anything in your life,” he said, sounding more sulky than a schoolboy sent home with bad grades. He took an envelope from his coat pocket and she recognized the lettering—Chase and Sons Textiles, Lowell, Massachusetts. He slapped it in her hand.
She scanned it quickly. David Chase was willing to offer Saul his old job back. Shocked, she read the next paragraph, giving her back her old position, too.
“We can leave tomorrow morning, provided you can help out with your ticket, same as before,” he told her. “I assume that man paid you wages.”
“He did,” she said, the roaring in her ears making his voice seem distant. “You...you won’t even give Wyoming a year’s trial?”
He shook his head and took the letter back from her. “You’d hate the place, too. Nowhere to go, too much work, an old cabin with a dirt floor.”
The roaring in her ears stopped. The Eight Bar cabin had wooden floors, even if they were uneven. The pump brought water right into the house. Maybe in fifty years there would be gas or electricity. She couldn’t help smiling.
“What is so funny?” Saul Coffin demanded. “I’m offering you the opportunity to go back to Massachusetts to our old jobs! This...this whole state smells like a bog pit!” He lowered his voice, “Everyone makes fun of the way I talk! They won’t stop teasing me!”
“Same thing happened to me,” she said, sure of herself now, confident and happy. “I got over it. I like it here. I’m staying.”
She turned and walked away without a backward glance. She sat down beside Ned Avery, her boss, her friend, the man who bought her an overcoat because he cared, the man she taught to waltz and lost her heart to. There wasn’t going to be any delicate way to declare herself, but she didn’t care. If she was wrong, then she was wrong. She had no doubt she could find a job in Cheyenne. Maybe Ned would come around, and maybe he wouldn’t, but she knew she could manage. His strength had made her stronger.
Ned stared at her. “Better tell me what happened.”
“Saul Coffin is a milky boy who can’t stand the smell of manure and has a deathly fear of hard work,” she said. “He is going back to Massachusetts and his old job, and demands I come along, too, if I pay part of my way. I said no.”
His expression softened. Katie held out her hand, only to discover that his hand was already extended. They clasped hands.
“I have a confession to make,” he began. “I’ve been doing my own whining. I never liked the ranch, I’m tired of hard work and I wish for an easier life. I’m no more a prize than Mr. Milky Boy over there, who looks like he can’t believe that you walked away from him.”
“Could you really sell the ranch?” she asked, wanting to know his heart.
“I could in December and January,” he told her. He had moved closer and his other arm circled her waist. She watched his expression soften. “But then the calves come in late February, and I’m busy through March. April storms dump snow on the little fellows, and I have to keep them close to home.”
“And?”
“Spring comes, and you wouldn’t believe how green the pastures are. The calves that made it through the storms are strutting their stuff. I have new colts by then, too. I’m growing more and more gr
ass for hay, and it smells so good along about July. I’ll be eternally riding fence and coming home late.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You have to promise me not to worry so much.”
She heard what he was really saying, and her hand automatically went to the bridge of her nose to stop her tears. “I really couldn’t leave your father, either, because we haven’t come to the end of A Tale of Two Cities.” She leaned closer, enjoying the fragrance of his aftershave. She pressed her cheek against his and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Besides, before I said goodbye to your father, he said you had a Christmas present for me.”
He chuckled, the soft sound for her alone. “I suppose I do. Hold out your hand, Katherine.”
She did. Ned fumbled in his vest pocket, which meant she noticed for the first time that he was wearing the green brocade cravat she had made him, along with a white shirt and his good suit. Probably his only suit. What did a stockman need a suit for, except for weddings and funerals and the occasional dance, where he was supposed to find someone to marry and didn’t?
The ring was gold, with a smallish green stone. It fit on her middle finger, so that’s where it stayed.
“One of us should propose,” she told him. “I’m willing.”
“Even when it’s December and January and I’m ready to sell the place and move somewhere warm?” he asked, suddenly serious.
Katie touched his face and his lips automatically went to the palm of her hand. She kissed his hand in turn. She wanted him, plain, simple and soon.
“You won’t sell the place this December and January,” she whispered. “Not with me there loving you. I know your bed will fit the room you built me.”
He laughed at that, a quiet laugh so intimate that she wanted to drag him to the desk clerk, demand a room and take the stairs two at a time. “Katherine, would you believe me if I told you that earlier this week when you were out milking, I measured my bed against your bed? It’ll fit.”
They laughed together. She looked around. Saul Coffin was gone. “He was going to make me pay half my fare again.”
“What a pup. He’ll be better off in Massachusetts. Tomorrow morning, you and I will toddle over to the courthouse when it opens, for a license to wed. I will pay the entire amount, and we’ll find the justice of the peace.”
She giggled at that.
“We’ll stay a night or two here in the Plainsman.” He gave his timepiece a long look, then cleared his throat and looked remarkably young. “Uh, about tonight... We’ll be jumping the gun by about twelve hours. Do you really, seriously mind?”
Katie put her hand over his watch. “No! I have a better idea than the justice of the peace. That Christmas party in the Presbyterian Church is tomorrow night? Why don’t we...?”
“...wait to get married in Medicine Bow?” he asked. “Turn it into a wedding party?”
“Your father will be there,” she reminded him, which made his eyes fill with tears. “Don’t, my dearest,” she said, trying out the words and liking them. “He’s alive to see you married.” She touched his face. “Maybe he’ll live to see our first child.”
Ned put his hands on her cheeks and touched her forehead with his, then pulled her close. His overcoat was unbuttoned, so Katie put her arms inside it, enjoying the feel of his back.
He kissed her several times, until she wanted to push as close against him as she could. The lobby was deserted, except for the desk clerk regarding them with considerable attention. He rented them a room for the night, and Katie never even thought to be afraid when Ned locked the door to the room and pulled her even closer.
No words were spoken for a long time; none were needed. Not until Katie relaxed into his arms, enjoying the warmth of his so quickly familiar bare embrace, did she have a question for him. It had nothing to do with what they had just done, the first of many times, she knew already.
“You’ve been calling me Katherine,” she whispered into his neck. “Why?”
“It seemed like a wife’s name,” he whispered back. “I started that a while back, didn’t I?”
She kissed his chest, closing her eyes as his hand rested so lightly on her hair.
* * *
True to the conductor’s predictions, the westbound Union Pacific was delayed by snow east of them. Not until well into the next evening did the train pull into Medicine Bow. They left her luggage at the depot and walked toward the Presbyterian Church, well lit and with blanketed horses tied to hitching rails. Someone played the organ. The strains of “Silent Night” made their way into the night, where snow had begun to fall again.
They walked slowly, matching each other’s steps, stopping to watch the stars overhead, kissing now and then, and in no hurry, because their lives together stretched before them.
They stopped at the church’s front door. “I’m almost afraid to go in,” Ned told her.
Katherine tightened her grip on his arm. “This from the man who breaks horses, brands anything that holds still long enough, and tells me not to get tight-mouthed if he’s late for supper?”
“That one,” Ned said.
There was just enough light for Katherine to see he was smiling. “The man who had better marry me since I did extraordinary things last night without benefit of clergy?”
“That one, too,” he said and joined in her laughter. “Oh, hell, let’s give this door a push.”
They started to push and nearly fell inside because someone must have heard them laughing on the steps. Welcoming hands pulled them inside the warmth of the church’s vestibule, decorated with artificial ivy, probably because no one considered Wyoming sagebrush appropriate.
The Bradleys, Peter with them, pulled them right inside the chapel, and up to Mr. Avery, who sat close to the front beside the doctor. Katherine waited for her nearly almost husband to speak. A glance showed her how Ned struggled, so she knelt beside the man she was so soon to call father.
“Mr. Avery, we decided to get married right here and right now,” she said. “Ned has a license and I’m thinking you can produce a minister.”
She noted with amusement that many partygoers gave her quizzical looks, so she repeated herself, using a little less Maine and a little more Wyoming. General applause followed, reminding her just how much she knew she would love this place.
And then they stood in front of the minister, who looked just a little silly in his Saint Nicholas costume, but only just a little. Ned had taken his brother by the hand, pulled him close and pronounced him best man, which made Mr. Avery nod in appreciation.
Katherine paid close attention to Dearly Beloved, then closed her eyes and felt gratitude seep into her heart. She said “Ayuh” instead of “I do,” which made her really almost husband shake with silent laughter. The ring came off and went back on, with a whispered promise from the now husband to find one that fit, and soon.
The minister urged a little kiss, which occupied them a brief second. She already knew from sound, recent experience that Ned Avery was capable of a much longer and deeper kiss, but that wasn’t information anyone in the chapel needed.
Katherine looked into Ned’s eyes then, knowing it lay in her power to make him happy well beyond the Decembers and Januarys of his hard life. From the look of real contentment on his face, he knew it, too.
* * * * *
CHRISTMAS IN
SALVATION FALLS
Kelly Boyce
To my own Christmas Crew, thanks for always making the holidays a time of laughter and wonderful memories—ShayFaye and Bone; Craig, Joanne, Owen, Natalie and Dylan; Alyson, Allan, Malcolm, Maggie and Gabriel; Riley (Rileymas!); and, of course, to John and Cedar. Love you all and Merry Christmas!
Dear Reader,
When the opportunity to take part in this year’s Harlequin Christmas anthology came about, I jumped at the cha
nce! Not only is Christmas a huge event in my family, but also I was thrilled with the idea of getting to spend it in Salvation Falls with past characters and new ones searching for their own kind of Merry Christmas.
The idea for Morgan and Willa’s story came from the image of a woman sweeping the porch and a man watching her from a distance. I began to wonder who she was and why he seemed so shocked to see her there. After that, the story and the characters gradually unfolded, telling me their secrets, past and present.
I love the idea of second chances, and thoroughly enjoyed spending Christmas in Salvation Falls. I hope you will, too.
Kelly Boyce
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
Salvation Falls, Colorado, 1877
Years had passed since Morgan Trent had seen her last.
So many, in fact, he had convinced himself his memories of her had dimmed. He’d worked hard to shove them into the recesses of his mind where he kept all the things he preferred not to think about. But now, sitting atop Buckeye, saddle sore and in desperate need of a place to rest his travel-weary bones, those memories stood not two hundred feet away, bright as day, mocking him. Turns out he hadn’t locked them away as tightly as he’d hoped.
Maybe coming to Salvation Falls had been a mistake. He’d spent over half a decade running from the pain of his past. From mistakes he didn’t care to admit to. Now here he was, face-to-face with it—with her—once more.
When Uncle Bertram had asked Morgan to join his law practice in Salvation Falls, it had taken a full year for him to make the decision to accept. It had been years since he’d practiced the law. Since he’d done much of anything that required brain over brawn, or which meant staying in one place for too long.