The Cowboy from Christmas Past

by The Cowboy from Christmas Past (lit)

  "I have to keep any eye on them, Auburn," Dillinger said. "It's best to keep your enemies close to your bosom. Biblically speaking."

  Great. She wished he hadn't said "bosom." It made her think about what wonderful things he'd done to hers, but it appeared they would be staying under wraps tonight. She went to put soup in bowls, slice some bread and pour wine.

  Auburn wondered what she could do to send Bradley back home as soon as possible. She was itching to ask Polly. She had a funny feeling the woman in the picture frame knew.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sight of the three men sprawled in the parlor in a triangular standoff—recline-off, as they all had with their backs propped against furniture, rifles across their laps, their western hats pulled low over their faces—was more than Auburn could bear. "This is the room I'm going to put the Christmas tree in," she said, "and you three are definitely not cheery seasonal ornaments. Could we at least put the firearms away?"

  She held Rose tightly, afraid to step any farther into the room. One might have thought that after a delicious, if she did say so herself, meal of soup and wine, the testosterone levels would have gone down a bit. Who wouldn't feel relaxed in front of a cozy fire? It wasn't as if there was central heating in the house, so as far as she was concerned, the three of them were in the lap of luxury, while she was making do with a warming pan.

  And no Dillinger to snuggle with for warmth and maybe a little sizzle.

  "We're fine, Auburn," Dillinger said. "Go back to bed."

  "How can anyone sleep, knowing that the three of you are prepared to blow each other's heads off?" Auburn was certain nothing good could come of three men sleeping with their toys, the big babies. "It would work just as well, I'm sure, if all of you held Bibles or something," she said sweetly, and was rewarded by two very black glares.

  Bradley didn't look quite as annoyed; his expression might have even been a tad relieved, because he seemed somewhat perturbed by the whole gun show, though he was clearly going for bravado in front of the other two men. She didn't think he'd ever even held a gun before.

  "Bradley, put that weapon away," she said. "You look totally silly."

  "They gave me the smallest one," Bradley muttered sheepishly. "Dillinger said I might need it in case a bear tries to get in."

  She looked at Dillinger. "A bear?"

  He shrugged.

  "Oh, for pity's sake. I'm going to bed. You three are all going to help drag in a tree tomorrow for me to decorate, and you're going to mind your manners and not track in mud or anything, or I'm not cooking any turkey pie tomorrow." She sniffed. "I'm going to make it with potatoes and not noodles, but I'm pretty sure I can make a very good whipping cream to put in it if I'm not upset by too much male dominance in my house."

  Oops. Major tactical blunder.

  Dillinger looked pleased with her use of the possessive pronoun, Bradley looked unhappy and Pierre looked amused. "My house because I'm staying here for now, with this baby, the only person here who seems to have any sense," Auburn said. "Good night, Three Stooges."

  And then she went to put Rose in her cradle and herself in bed—not very happy about being robbed of a night in Dillinger's arms.

  What if last night had been the last time she'd ever get to hold him?

  She hoped Bradley hadn't used up the magic window or whatever it was that had allowed her and Dillinger to time travel. Otherwise, they might be stuck here. All of them, including Dillinger's vengeful brother-in-law.

  She had a bad feeling that Pierre was just biding his time before he made his move.

  * * *

  AUBURN AWAKENED INSTANTLY when someone got in bed with her. "If that's you, Bradley, you're about to lose your family jewels!" she hissed.

  Dillinger's chuckle warmed her. "It's me, my gentle little pussycat."

  "Whatever," Auburn said, instantly going into his arms. "What if I said, 'Gee, Bradley, what took you so long to get here?'"

  He growled against her hair, holding her tightly to him. "I'd spank you."

  "So did you cart their carcasses off to the forest?" Auburn murmured against Dillinger's chin.

  "A bloodthirsty woman," Dillinger said, tweaking her bottom. "I'm getting to know you better all the time."

  "So did you?" Dillinger wouldn't be here if he hadn't tied them up or buried them under twelve feet of snow.

  "Just put a little medicine in their wine at the table." He tweaked her nipple gently, drawing a surprised, pleased gasp from her. "You didn't think I was going to let them spoil my time alone with you?"

  "I should hope not," she said, doing a little tweaking of her own and drawing the desired response from the eager male in her bed. "Though I did wonder."

  He nibbled at her lower lip, and she nestled closer in his arms, as near to his heartbeat as she could get.

  "You should have faith, little one."

  "I'd feel so much better if they weren't here," she said.

  "Shh," Dillinger whispered as he held her tightly, easing her fears. And so Auburn held on to him and enjoyed the pleasure she found in his arms.

  By the time Rose let out a little squeak iin the morning, Auburn was alone again in the bed, but it didn't matter. She knew Dillinger wasn't worried about Bradley being here. In fact, he wasn't worried about much of anything, except making her happy.

  And that was enough to make her start thinking about whether she could stay with Dillinger forever.

  But she must have unfinished business with Bradley, as Dillinger and Pierre did with one another, and this was time's way of smoothing everything out for their eventual happiness.

  She got up, made herself presentable, fed Rose, sang a quick morning lullaby to her and went to see what the men were up to.

  The two males were lounging in the living room. "Where's Dillinger?" she asked them.

  "Gone to look at his livestock," Pierre said.

  She raised a brow. "You didn't go with him?"

  "Would you have trusted me to?" he asked with a toothy grin.

  "More than I'd trust you here," Auburn retorted.

  Bradley looked at her. "I'd protect you, Auburn."

  "With that popgun?" she asked, glancing at the pistol Bradley had stuck in a holster he'd found. "What makes you think I trust you more than Pierre, anyway?"

  "Auburn!" Bradley exclaimed. "How can you say that about a man you were going to marry?"

  "Not trusting each other isn't good," Pierre said, laughing. "You're probably better off without each other."

  Auburn sighed and went into the kitchen. Maybe she'd whip up some eggs and bacon. She'd seen bacon in the larder and Dillinger brought in eggs from the chickens each day. She wondered how the gunslinger liked his eggs cooked, and decided he'd be so cold when he came in he wouldn't care if they were fried or scrambled as long as they were hot.

  "Auburn, can I talk to you?" Bradley murmured, coming into the kitchen.

  "If you must," she replied, looking at the frying pans and trying to decide which would be best for the amount of eggs she was going to end up serving three hungry men.

  "Your mother and father miss you," Bradley said.

  She turned to stare at him. "Are you insane?"

  "What?" His expression was one of total innocence.

  "You're the reason I'm not with my parents right now."

  "Nonsense. We just had a misunderstanding," Bradley said. "You're such a sensitive girl."

  "You gave my parents a loan with terms they couldn't possibly meet in this economy, and you say I'm sensitive? How about just plain intelligent?" She chose a frying pan and went on with her preparations. "Scoot, Bradley. I can't think with you under my feet, and I'm trying to get the hang of this stove."

  "I think you gave up on us too hastily."

  "No," Auburn said, "I gave up on us not a moment too soon, and several moments too late."

  "That is so cold!"

  "Bradley, what are you really doing here? I wish you'd go back and get your life in order. The
re's no reason for your presence."

  "I can't go back. I don't even know how I got here."

  She had a feeling she did, but she darn well wasn't going to give him Polly's earrings so he could take off and leave her stuck in the past.

  "All I can figure is that you wanted to see me, Auburn. There's no other explanation for it. I think you're telling me one thing, but your heart says another. I believe we're meant to be together."

  She handed Rose to Bradley. "Can you at least hold her so I can make some breakfast?"

  "I—Okay." He took the baby as if she were a time bomb.

  "First of all," Auburn said, cracking eggs into a bowl, "we are not meant to be together."

  "You're not staying here, are you?" Bradley asked, his tone horrified. "Your parents wouldn't like that."

  "I'll let you know after I've figured it out myself. I don't really know how I got here, either, so going back isn't exactly like buying a ticket to Paris. Now a little butter," she murmured, sliding some into the pan she was heating.

  "It's so weird watching you be Mrs. Cleaver," Bradley said with a smile. "I would have proposed sooner if I'd known you were going to be Suzy Homemaker."

  "Say one more thing like that and you'll find an egg cracked over your head," she said, her nerves already wearing thin with his commentary. Why hadn't she ever noticed how boring Bradley was?

  Because I was busy doing what my parents wanted, which was being a good heiress, making a good match and settling down for the good of the McGinnis family name.

  She'd lost a lot of time trying to be a good girl and socialite, climbing the right social ladders. On the other hand, she was certainly making up for it now. She smiled, thinking about how thoroughly Dillinger had loved her last night.

  She doubted her parents would approve of her getting it on with a gunslinger, but hey, this was 1892, right?

  "Bradley, take Rose out and put her in her cradle, will you, please?" Auburn asked, and just then Dillinger blew through the front door, carried on a snowy wind, dragging a wonderful fir tree behind him.

  She smiled. "Hey, Superman."

  Dillinger looked at her, confused. "Who?"

  "Did you cut that all by yourself?" she asked, going to admire his handiwork.

  "And dragged it half a mile, too." He was sweaty, but pleased that she liked his surprise.

  "With drifts that high?"

  "Snowshoes," he said. "There's too much snow even for horses today."

  She flicked a stray wood chip off his flannel shirt and said, "You're probably starving after all that muscleman work. I have eggs in the kitchen for you."

  Dillinger grinned, and it was like they were the only two people in the room, the only two people in the whole galaxy.

  Bradley sighed. "I'll serve myself."

  "She forgot the bacon, but I can fry that," Pierre said.

  Auburn smiled at Dillinger. "What would you have done if you'd come home and I'd dinged both of them with a frying pan?"

  He laughed, then gave her a long kiss he didn't seem to care about anybody seeing. "I would have thanked you."

  Auburn was so happy she felt as if she were floating.

  And then she realized she was.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Auburn floated only for a moment, and maybe just a couple of inches off the ground. She wasn't sure if anyone had noticed, but then Pierre said, "Witchcraft! That's it. I'm ready to kill both of you." He raised his rifle.

  Bradley looked alarmed.

  "I came here to kill you. I've only waited because there are two eyewitnesses and the snow is so deep it'll take me forever to walk back, unless my sleigh magically repairs itself."

  "It didn't," Dillinger told him. "I hacked it into bits before I chopped down this tree." He shook the fir a little to make certain no more snow was caught in the branches, then propped it against a wall.

  "You chopped up my sleigh?" Pierre lost his icy composure for the first time. "That's it, gunslinger. You're first. Get away from the woman so I don't splatter her with your blood." He aimed the rifle at Dillinger, suddenly coughing as he did so.

  Auburn gasped. "Have you gone mad? What exactly is your problem?"

  "The problem," Pierre said, his coughing fit racking him, his eyes glazing a bit, "is that you're wearing my sister's clothes, you're in my sister's house, and you're making him forget she ever existed."

  "I don't think so," Auburn snapped. "The house is practically a shrine to your sister. Even I enjoy her being around." She frowned. "I don't get the sense that she was as mercenary as you."

  Pierre couldn't seem to stop coughing, so he waved a hand and shook his head in lieu of arguing.

  "Are you sick?" Bradley demanded. "Because if you are, I don't think you should be in the same room with the baby, or the food or us, for that matter."

  Bradley had always been a bit of a germaphobe. Auburn stepped in front of Dillinger, prepared to shield him with her body. "Look, Pierre, your sister wouldn't mind me borrowing her clothes. She'd lend them to me herself if she were alive. She'd say it was practical, and probably would have given her clothes to anyone who needed them. And frankly, I think she'd be a bit embarrassed by the way you're behaving. It doesn't speak well for the family name."

  He scowled at her. "You're in love with a gunslinger. What's that going to do for your family name?"

  "Ouch," Bradley said. "She's not in love with him. She's going to marry me."

  "Right," Pierre drawled. "That'll happen when this hellhole thaws out."

  "Hey!" Bradley glanced around the room. "I happen to think this is a sweet setup. I wouldn't mind living here myself."

  "I don't know why," Pierre said. "It's the middle of nowhere. And it's colder out here than in town. I think all the damn trees block the sun."

  He bent over, coughing, and Auburn said, "You are sick!"

  She went to touch his forehead, not that she wanted to. But she didn't want him filling Rose's living space with germs. "You have a high fever, Pierre," she said. "You'll just have to do your vengeful act another day. Go get in bed in the guest room. And I'm not cleaning out your chamber pot, so don't make a mess. I expect that room to be daisy-fresh when you move out."

  He shook his head, coughed harder. "No."

  "Yes," she said, firmly steering him toward the back room. "Trust me, we don't want you here, but you can barely hold that gun straight, so you can't shoot Dillinger today. I'd send for the sheriff and make him drag you off to get well in a jail cell, but Dillinger says no one can get out of here."

  "That's what happened to Polly," Pierre said, allowing her to march him to the back room. "She couldn't escape."

  "Well, your story and Dillinger's conflict, and truthfully, I'd tend to believe him over you, because you're kind of a mean character. Now get in bed and don't come out until you're well. I don't want Rose catching your grunge."

  "Arrgh!" He dropped his boots to the floor and rolled into the bed without further protest.

  "Exactly," Auburn said, and closed the door.

  She went back out to the family room, where Bradley and Dillinger were eating eggs and bacon and engaged in a discussion of the best ways to grow hay for cattle.

  "Bradley, you don't know anything about farming or ranching," she said.

  He shrugged. "I've always wanted a place in the country. I might as well learn something while I'm here."

  Auburn sighed and wondered when the spaceship to her century would be boarding for takeoff.

  * * *

  "IF YOU EVER STAND in front of me again when someone points a gun at me, I will spank you," Dillinger said, coming into the kitchen to help her wash dishes.

  Auburn smiled and said, "Promise?" which did not make Dillinger's blood pressure go down one bit. The woman was driving him mad. Making love to her was all he could think about, to the point where he'd put a drop of laudanum in their companions' drinks last night. Hadn't someone once said that all was fair in love and war? Bradley and Pierre had gotten a good
rest; he'd gotten a great night in Auburn's welcoming arms.

  He was a happy man except for their two visitors, and wondering when Auburn was going to start talking about her little levitation act this morning when he'd kissed her. He feared that her time here was beginning to run out, though she hadn't seemed to realize it yet. The thought panicked him. He didn't know if he could stand the grief of losing another woman he loved.