WESTERN CHRISTMAS PROPOSALS

by Various

  Except something unusual had happened.

  Morgan had returned. To the wrong place at the wrong time, but he’d returned.

  “Why come here now?” she whispered at his inert form. “Why didn’t you come back six years ago? If you had, Father wouldn’t have forced me to marry Clancy. We could have been together. Happy. I needed you then, not now.”

  She’d forged her own way in the world since then. It had been hard, and some days she hadn’t known if she’d make it through. But she had—the determination to never leave her life in the hands of someone else kept her going. Now she relied on no one but herself. Counting on others only resulted in hurt, heartbreak and humiliation.

  Maybe it wasn’t the life she’d envisioned. A life that included a home, a husband and a passel of children. She’d accepted that. Sometimes that was just the way things went. But the life she’d built was dependable and constant. This life would never leave her, or disown her or cheat on her. And that was a far sight better than the life she’d had before, so she accepted her lot and was glad for it.

  Morgan groaned, a quiet rumble from deep inside his chest. Willa held her breath as his eyelashes flickered. He had the longest lashes, black at the base and tipped with gold at the ends. He opened his eyes and stared at her. Her breath caught as it always had whenever she looked into those eyes, so reminiscent of the Colorado sky on a brilliant summer’s day. Not much had changed in that regard, though thin lines that hadn’t been there before now fanned out from the corners of his eyes, giving him a bit of a weathered appearance.

  What had happened to Morgan after he’d left her? The last letter she’d received indicated his law practice was doing well and then, nothing. The silence had turned deafening as the months wore on. What had occurred after his last letter that turned him from a successful lawyer into a drifter with only a saddlebag full of belongings to his name?

  “Please tell me I didn’t faint.” Morgan’s voice, warm and deep, interrupted her thoughts. Relief swept through her. He was fine. He’d have one beast of a headache for a day or two, but he was fine.

  “More like passed out.”

  He winced. “Fantastic. Very heroic.”

  “Were you trying to be a hero?”

  He turned his head and looked at her, the effect potent and exhilarating. “Were you? You went charging in there like a raging bull. What did you think to accomplish?”

  Was he chastising her? Had he forgotten this was her establishment? What did he expect her to do—just stand there, wring her hands and fret about it? “I had hoped to diffuse the situation before it got out of control.”

  “Darlin’, it was already out of control before you started running toward it.”

  Darlin’. The term slipped past the barriers around her heart like a thief. She beat it back. Closed the doors. Checked the locks. “So I discovered.”

  “You scared the hell out of me.” He gave her a censuring glare as if he cared what happened to her. A wave of heat rushed through her. She felt too many things when he was near. Time might have softened her memory of the effect he had on her, but this was no memory lying a few feet away. This was reality, and not one she had been prepared for.

  “I wasn’t thinking about your feelings in that particular moment,” she said. Though it might have been the only moment since his arrival when he hadn’t dominated her thoughts.

  “You weren’t thinking at all, from what I saw.”

  As if he was in a position to take her to task! “I wasn’t the one who ended up knocked to the floor, was I?”

  The corners of his beautiful mouth turned downward into a scowl and her lips twitched in response, knowing she’d hit a nerve. Other parts of her body responded too, but she ignored the sensation. It had a bad habit of getting her into trouble where he was concerned.

  Willa stood and stretched the muscles in her back. It was best she leave. Too much time spent in Morgan’s company had a negative effect on her ability to think straight. “I need to ensure everyone is doing their part to put my dining room back to rights.”

  “Hold up.” His hand wound around her wrist. Heat spread through her like a brush fire, swift and out of control. “Sit for a bit, Red. Talk to me.”

  “I can’t imagine there’s anything left to say.” Suddenly she did not care to stand here and have him provide an itemized list of the reasons he hadn’t come back for her. To hear why he had changed his mind and decided he didn’t love her enough after all. “Unless you want to tell me why you’re here?”

  “I came here to work for Bertram. He sent me a letter about joining his practice. I guess his office was damaged by fire and I was told he is now living above the sheriff’s office, but he wasn’t there when I went over. I have no idea where he is.”

  “I suspect Hunter and Meredith took him out to the ranch. Hunter Donovan is the sheriff. Bertram and Hunter’s wife, Meredith, are quite close. She’s been trying to convince him to move in with them, but so far he’s perfectly fine staying in the one room above the jail.”

  “Sounds like close quarters. Might be I need to stay here for a bit longer until I can find more permanent accommodations. If you’ll allow it?”

  Nothing good could come of that, but what other choice did she have? He’d been injured in her establishment and a beast of a storm raged outside. “You can stay until you can speak to Bertram and work out an alternative.”

  “Appreciate it, Red.” His grip on her wrist loosened and slipped downward until he held her hand, the intimate touch battering her flagging will. Once upon a time, that touch had meant security to her. A way out from under her father’s dictatorship. An escape from a life where she had no say, no choice. Where she was nothing more than a pawn in her father’s games. Back then, Morgan had been a safe harbor, a promise of a new, different kind of life. But one day, that safe harbor was gone, leaving in its wake a rocky shore filled with the jagged edges of broken promises and the crashing waves of lost dreams. “You haven’t told me how you ended up here yet.”

  “You haven’t asked.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m asking now.”

  She pursed her lips. He’d lost the right to hear her story after he left her high and dry. But even as her brain made this decree, her knees gave way and she lowered herself back into the chair.

  “After Clancy got himself killed in the Black Hills, I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. He’d tried to swindle Father a year after our wedding and so we were cast out.”

  Shock registered across his handsome features. “Your father disowned you?”

  She nodded. “A year after that, Father died. Lettie’s husband Ernest took over the business and subsequently ran it into the ground. Lettie managed to send me a little money before that happened, but it wasn’t much.”

  “I’m sorry, Red. I had no idea.”

  “Why would you?” She tried unsuccessfully to keep the accusation from her tone, unwilling to accept his sudden concern. “Anyway, I managed to keep the money from Clancy and when he died, I used it to come to Salvation Falls. I suppose after all the stories you told me about the place, it felt familiar.”

  “Was it what you expected?”

  A sharp laugh, devoid of mirth, escaped her. “Nothing was what I expected at that point. I was frightened and alone for the first time in my life. The woman who originally owned this place took me in. And when what little money I had ran out, she allowed me to work for my room and board. A couple of years ago, she passed on and left the place to me.”

  Morgan stared at her, an unreadable expression darkening his eyes. “That’s quite a story, Red. Can’t say I ever expected you to be the one to land on your feet. Guess you proved me wrong on that account.”

  She stood and pulled her hand from his. His lack of faith in her abilities pricked her pride, but the truth was, when she’d ar
rived here, she’d been as green as could be, despite everything she’d been through. But she’d learned fast. Necessity was a master motivator. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone. I was just trying to survive. What other choice did I have?”

  He shook his head and a look of respect settled upon his features. “Some people would have faltered. You didn’t. Look at this place, Red. You didn’t just survive. You thrived. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I am. But everything comes with a price.” The words were out before she could stop them. Talking to Morgan had always been so easy and she’d told him all the things she could never tell anyone else. He had a way of listening to her as if he really heard her, as if he took what she said to heart.

  Willa stood and straightened her skirt. She’d stayed too long. She couldn’t afford to slip back into these easy patterns they’d once shared. It brought her too close to having her heart broken all over again.

  “Leaving?”

  “I’ve work to do.” She walked to the door and opened it, turning before she left. “Oh, and don’t be surprised if you see Lettie.”

  He sat up sharply then winced, holding a hand to the side of his head. “Your sister? She’s here?”

  “Arrived six months ago. Turns out Ernest didn’t care to live life as a pauper. He’s petitioned for divorce and is now living with a wealthy widow.”

  “So you took her in?”

  She shrugged. She and Lettie had never had the easiest of relationships. Lettie had always blamed Willa for their mother’s death that had arrived so soon after her birth. But she was all the family Willa had. “If it hadn’t been for the money Lettie had sent me after Father died, I don’t know what would have become of me. In a way, she saved me. It only seemed right I return the favor.”

  “Does she help out around here?”

  Willa twisted her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “Only if you consider constantly criticizing everything helpful. Now, I need to go. Once the weather clears, I will send word to Bertram that you’ve arrived.”

  The sooner she could do that, the sooner Morgan would be out from underfoot and she could get on with her life.

  But even as she told herself that, her heart whispered something different. It whispered that her life had just done an about-turn and there was nothing short of leaving town on the next train that she could do about it.

  * * *

  Morgan spent a good portion of the day drifting in and out of sleep. By the time he finally woke for good, the storm had burned itself out. Orange and purple streaked across the sky beyond his window, the last of the sun’s light illuminating the snow-covered tips of the mountains in the distance. The scene robbed him of breath and for a few minutes, he simply lay there and watched the sun kiss the day goodbye. It was moments like this when he knew coming to Salvation Falls to finally put down some roots had been the right thing to do. Not that he’d expected to have the life he’d once imagined. That dream had been destroyed long ago.

  Or so he’d thought.

  But now Red was here. And the dreams that had burned to cinder and ash all those years ago sparked anew, like tiny embers that had yet to give up and fizzle out. All he’d ever wanted was to build a home filled with life and love like his parents had had, but somewhere along the way he’d got caught up in the idea that he’d achieve that with success and money. That’s what Lyle Stanford had drilled into him and he’d been young and stupid enough to listen.

  And then it had all come crashing down around him when he’d lost Willa.

  Why had his uncle never mentioned her in his letters? Did he fear learning Red was in Salvation Falls would send Morgan heading in the other direction? Maybe. And maybe he would have been right on that account. The letter that had broken his heart had sunk him deeper than he’d ever been. He’d spent the next week trying to drink his pain away before he’d wised up and decided it was better to head back to DeSoto County and restake his claim. But he’d arrived too late.

  If only he’d returned when he’d first received her letter instead of drowning himself in whiskey. If only he’d answered the letters she’d sent before then instead of putting it off.

  If only.

  He shook his head and winced, both at the pain throbbing beneath his skull and the one lancing his heart.

  He never delved too deep into his own part in the breakdown of their relationship. Why bother? Sure, he should have been more attentive, gone back and visited a time or two. Replied to her letters. But her marrying Clancy Barstow had been permanent, a clear end to their relationship.

  Her betrayal had raged through him until there was nothing left but bitterness and regret. He’d walked away from his law practice and thrown away the future he’d worked so hard to build for her. What was the point? It had all been for her. To go on without her would only be a caustic reminder of his loss.

  And nothing could ease that loss. He couldn’t quite remember how to live in a world that didn’t have her in it. Each time the thought of settling down popped up, the idea soured in his gut. Settle down to what? With whom? The cold, hard fact remained that the only woman he’d ever loved—still loved—had married someone else. So he tucked the notion away and moved on to the next thing, only staying a little while until things began to feel comfortable and then moving on once more, constantly searching for that missing piece.

  He never found it.

  Until now.

  The second he’d set eyes on Willa everything had fallen into place. At least it had for him. Though she didn’t appear to share his belief that this was fate’s way of handing them a second chance. To hear her tell it, she had her own life now and he didn’t fit into it.

  Maybe she was right, because while he’d moved from one place to the next, she’d come here and put down roots, made a life, become a part of the town he’d always dreamed of settling in. And grown into a competent and beautiful woman in the process.

  Did he even stand a chance at convincing her to give them a second try?

  Someone banged on the opposite side of his door, shaking the thick oak on its hinges. The sound reverberated through his skull like someone swinging a pickaxe. Whoever stood on the other side didn’t bother waiting for an invitation. The door swung open, banging against the wall with another resounding thud and the beast who’d brandished the ladle barreled in with a tray of food. If he was a cook, it explained the ladle, Morgan supposed. The scent filled the room and he immediately forgot his irritation at the disruption as his stomach grumbled, announcing its displeasure over not being fed since the night before.

  “Here ya go. Eat up. Willa wants ya strong like an ox so ya can get outta her hair.” The man sat the tray across his lap and tossed a cloth napkin onto Morgan’s chest.

  Morgan glanced up from the tray. “She say that?”

  “It was inferred.” The beast gave him a look that was hard to decipher given the bushy eyebrows and thick beard covering his wide face, but Morgan would bet his last dollar that irritation factored in heavily. Apparently this two-legged bear had elected himself Willa’s protector. Great.

  “Is she around?”

  His uninvited guest crossed his arms, which seemed a chore in itself given their size. “Can’t see that’d be any of your business, boyo.”

  “The name is Trent. Morgan Trent. Not boyo.” Beast or not, the man was grating on his last nerve. He took a bite of the succulent roast beef smothered in gravy. It was so tasty he nearly wept.

  “Hmm. Speakin’ of, Bertram’s on his way up. Don’t see the resemblance though. And you can call me Fritz.”

  Morgan would prefer not to call the man at all. Unless he brought more meals like this. He hadn’t eaten mashed potatoes this good since his ma had died. “Then, Fritz, you didn’t answer my question. Is Willa around?” He preferred not to call her Mrs. Barstow if he could avoi
d it. The name didn’t suit her and saying it felt like a punch to the gut.

  “She’s over at the church helping with the plannin’.”

  “Planning?”

  “The Christmas Festival, my dear boy.”

  Morgan looked around Fritz to see his uncle. He’d only met the man in the flesh once as a young boy but aside from that fact his blond hair had turned pure white, not much had changed. The man exuded an energy that touched everyone within reach. Seeing his uncle filled Morgan with the sense he had finally come home.

  “Bertram!”

  Morgan set the tray Fritz had brought him aside and threw his legs over the side of the bed, standing up in one swift movement. Bad idea. He closed his eyes as the blood rushed from his head and he wavered. The dishes on the tray rattled as he sat quickly back down.

  When he opened his eyes again, the room had righted itself and his uncle’s smiling face wavered in front of Morgan’s. “Heard you took a bit of a hit to the noggin, son.”

  “You heard right.” He returned his uncle’s smile. “It’s good to see you, Bertram.”

  “It’s good to be seen. I’m pleased Mrs. Barstow had room for you. Guess maybe she’s softening a bit toward you, hmm?”

  “You guessed wrong on that account. And I was the injured party, if you’ll recall.”

  His uncle lifted a snow-white eyebrow. “You can’t leave a lady waiting in the wind without word and expect she’ll stay put, sonny boy. Women are mercurial creatures with their own hearts and minds. That’s always a hard lesson for us men to learn and we always seem to find out the hard way.”

  Morgan didn’t answer. He and his uncle had never quite seen eye to eye on that particular subject, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to argue, especially since the truth behind Bertram’s wisdom was growing clearer.

  “Just what is this Christmas Festival, anyway?” Not that he was particularly interested. Christmas was a time for families and friends and had always served as a stark reminder he had neither of those things. Would that change now that he’d finally reached Salvation Falls and found the one family member he had left?