He wondered if he'd have a choice, or if destiny was stacked against him, a bandit with more skill and cunning than he possessed.
"Hey," Bradley said, "where's the tree stand?"
Dillinger swore, resenting his rival's attempts to make himself at home.
"Uh-uh," Auburn said, "no cursing in front of the baby."
"Rose is asleep in her cradle in my room," Dillinger retorted. "And how do you expect me to feel when I've got your ex-fiancé in my house, cozying up to you?"
"I actually think he's cozying up to you," Auburn replied, snapping his behind with a dish towel. "Go help him. He's trying not to be a nuisance."
"Not very hard," Dillinger grumbled, and went to get the tree stand out of the shed.
Fifteen minutes later, he and Bradley had the tree in place. Auburn clapped her hands. "It's perfect!" she exclaimed, and Dillinger felt better, as if he'd given her something she really wanted.
He had to admit he'd started looking forward to the holiday. He'd been dreading it because Polly had loved Christmas, had loved putting pretty decorations on the tree. But somehow it felt right to have Auburn bringing Christmas to his lair, as she called it. He wondered if she would actually be here for Christmas, and felt edgy as he wished they were alone together.
Terror teased him as he contemplated her disappearing into the future.
"The star, please, Dillinger," Auburn said, and he took the star she'd made from some ribbon she'd found, and placed it atop the tree. "I made that just for you because you like stars so much," she said, giving him a gentle poke in the side.
Bradley shook his head and turned away from the tree to stoke the fire. Dillinger almost felt sorry for his rival, except that Bradley had proved himself to be unworthy of Auburn's love, and seemed to be accepting that he'd lost out on a good thing. Still, Dillinger didn't kiss Auburn in front of the man, even though he wanted to. Instead, he said, "I've got to go check some cattle."
"I thought you already did that," Auburn said.
"I was taking down a tree. I knew our two guests wouldn't follow me if they thought I was going to be out in the cold a long time with animals that are either surviving this storm or not." He put on his boots, lacing them tightly. "Want to come?" he asked Bradley, forcing himself to be sensitive to the other man's out-of-his-element feelings. "You can see a real ranching operation up close. If you can handle it in this weather, you'll know you were born to be a ranching man."
"Sure," Bradley said, delighted.
Auburn shook her head, got a few thick scarves from the closet and a big coat—of course Bradley was dressed for fashion, so he'd not stepped a foot outside yet—and Dillinger handed him an old pair of boots.
Bundled up against the cold, Bradley followed him out the door like a happy puppy. Dillinger turned to wave goodbye to Auburn, but she just shook her head again and blew him a kiss.
He went warm all over thinking about how good those lips could be to him. Old Man Winter and even forty degrees below zero couldn't steal the fire Auburn fanned inside him when she loved him. Just a smile from her filled him with delicious, soul-satisfying heat.
Please don't go, little one. Father Time, leave me with this one set of blessings, and I'll never ask for another thing as long as I live.
* * *
WITH PIERRE AND ROSE both asleep, and only an occasional hacking sound coming from Pierre's room, Auburn decided it was time to do some reconnaissance. She'd hidden Polly's earrings in Dillinger's room, so she went to locate them in the small matchbox she'd put them in, so Bradley or Pierre couldn't find them. Bradley wasn't the smoothest guy in this century, but he wasn't stupid, either, and she didn't want him figuring out the whole earring thing and going back with them. He'd sell them at Christie's to the highest bidder. She could just see it, Magic Earrings for Sale—Serious Bids Only, and shuddered. Although Bradley seemed as if he might be trying to change for the better, she knew greed would overcome.
Small and delicate, the earrings twinkled in the box, the dimness of the room doing nothing to diminish their luster. She could see them in Polly's ears, glittering at her lobes. How she must have treasured this gift from Dillinger.
Auburn didn't dare touch them, for fear of being swept away in time. When she'd be ready to leave Dillinger, Auburn didn't know; never, probably. Never, absolutely. Yet the time had to be close; something was warning her that she needed to be prepared for losing the only man she'd ever really loved.
"Please don't let the reason Bradley is here be because he's the man for me," Auburn whispered to the earrings. Then she closed the box, hiding it safely away again. These were Dillinger's; no one should touch them but him, because no one else deserved to have his wife's things.
She heard pained snoring when she paused at Pierre's door, so she went on to the writing desk, kneeling down to peer at the hidden drawer underneath. "Antique furniture is so cool," she murmured, and pulled out Polly's journal.
But Auburn didn't dare peek inside. Her fingers trembled as she debated looking at just one page—but what if she opened the journal and something happened, such as her being sent into a time warp? Dillinger would be alone here with an embezzler, a mad trapper and a baby. After tracing the gold lettering with a gentle finger, Auburn turned the journal over to admire the firm binding.
She'd give anything to have another woman to talk to. At times like this she missed Cherie, although her sister wouldn't have any advice for the pickle Auburn was in right now.
The journal fell open in her hands. Auburn's jaw dropped. "I didn't do it, Polly," she said, quickly clapping the book shut. "I promised I wouldn't read anything private of yours. There's almost nothing so low as sneaking into a friend's diary."
She did consider Polly a friend. Even though she'd never met her, she had the strangest feeling that Polly was her one-woman cheering section. Auburn set the journal back into its hidden ledge.
It fell out onto the rag rug, open once more.
Auburn couldn't stand it any longer. She had to read Polly's words.
Dear Journal,
Every woman keeps secrets, even from her husband, her best friend. I love Dillinger with all my heart, but my heart is heavy with my secret. I always knew I couldn't bear him a child. I also knew how much he wanted children, but selfishly, I hoped our love could overcome the disappointment he would face eventually when he realized we would not have a child for him to call his own.
I didn't realize how this burden would affect me. Over time my love for him began to haunt me, because I knew what I had taken from him. Stolen, even.
That's what I did. I stole from the man I love, and what I took cannot be replaced.
There is a woman in a neighboring town who is ill. She can't take care of her baby, and she is desperate for someone to adopt her child. I'm going to do this, and I pray that doing one good thing for another soul will bless our marriage and our home with a child Dillinger can love.
Auburn gasped. "Rose!" Rose was the baby Polly was speaking of, she was certain, and her ghost had somehow gotten the baby to Dillinger's porch on that snowy night.
But Polly had died a year ago, and Rose had not yet been born. This was another child she watched over, and Polly was still with them, just in another place, a purgatory of her own guilt.
Prickles ran over Auburn's scalp. She lit a candle because the room was getting dark—the hour was growing late—and looked down at the page again, to reread Polly's journal entry.
But the words lifted off the page and dissolved in a shower of twinkling light.
Auburn slapped the journal shut, her heart racing. "Polly!" she breathed, hiding the journal safely away, not daring to read anything else. She picked up the self-portrait of the beautiful woman. "Polly, Dillinger loved you even though you didn't bear him children."
Polly smiled back at her.
"I don't know what to do," Auburn said, but she knew she'd been given the reason why baby Rose had appeared on Dillinger's doorstep that fateful night.
And Polly wanted her to make sure the baby stayed with him.
Auburn put the picture back on the desk.
She wished she had her computer so she could look up Christmas River one more time. But she was positive she had searched thoroughly, and the town had not existed.
Something had happened to the community.
She had a funny feeling everything that happened in this house was destined to change the future of Christmas River. "I need a cup of Godiva hot cocoa so I can think," she said, and went to get Rose out of her cradle. "You don't realize you're an angel," she told the baby, kissing her forehead. The tiny girl flailed a fist, which brushed Auburn's chin lightly, and Auburn smiled, then froze.
She was once again floating off the ground. Her Uggs hovered at least four inches above the rug; she could freely kick her feet and not touch the floor. "Not the kind of party trick one wants to be known for, although it might be good for reaching the top shelf of my closet." She settled to the floor again, her feet solidly on the rag rug. Rose stared up at Auburn with calm eyes, and everything was as before.
But something was changing.
Auburn's body was getting ready to return to the century it belonged to.
She must not have long. Somehow she had to make Dillinger understand that Polly had intended for this baby to be his, for always.
So Polly could rest in peace.
Chapter Sixteen
Pierre's door opened and he staggered out into the hallway. He coughed, bending over with the effort.
"For heaven's sake, Pierre," Auburn said, "go back to your room. You're going to get baby Rose sick."
"I have to kill you," he said, his eyes bright with fever.
"You have no gun, because Dillinger took it," Auburn said calmly. "So your revenge will have to wait. Anyway, have you ever thought that maybe you should just try to remember the good things about your sister and not the things you imagine that were bad? Frankly, I haven't seen any indication that she was unhappy."
He leaned against a wall, shaking his head to clear it. "You don't understand."
She sighed, feeling almost invincible because she knew her physical body was starting to fade away. It was a little like being immortal; he could kill her in this century, she supposed, but she'd probably be halfway into her own by the time he got around to doing the deed.
Still, she felt she needed some backup.
"Excuse me," she said, sidling past him in the hallway, "I need to tend to Rose's diaper."
She grabbed Polly's earrings from their hiding place, changed Rose, bundling her up securely. "Oh, I wish Dillinger were back! I'm afraid Pierre might make good his threat." She held the baby tight for a second, smelling her sweet scent. "I don't know if I'm supposed to take you or not, but I don't have a choice if Dillinger doesn't return soon. I can't leave you alone with that crazy man."
She went back out into the hallway, gave Pierre a shove that sent him stumbling.
"Hey!" he exclaimed.
"Don't breathe on the baby," she warned, holding Rose close and wishing again that Dillinger would come back. She wanted to hold him one last time, wanted to say goodbye, but if she'd learned anything here, it was that she had to rely on herself.
"Where's my gun?" Pierre demanded.
"I told you, Dillinger took it. But here's a little thought from my sister, Cherie, who insisted I join her for kickboxing lessons…" Auburn lodged a kick firmly in Pierre's gut.
He gasped, swore, staggered off to his room, slammed the door. She could hear him coughing up a storm from the other side.
"Sorry, Polly," Auburn muttered. "He really needs a doctor."
She walked to the Christmas tree she'd trimmed with all the decorations she'd found in the attic, and wondered if she'd be here long enough to see all the pretty candles on it lit. She stared out into the snow, searching desperately for Bradley and Dillinger, hoping they hadn't gotten lodged in a snowdrift somewhere.
"They're big boys," she told Rose. "At least Dillinger is." She sighed, looked at the tree again with longing. "Hurry, Dillinger!" she cried out, feeling her hands go slightly numb. She wasn't surprised in the least to see them turn filmy, though she could still hold the baby. For that she could be momentarily thankful.
She went and sat in the rocker, pulled down one of Dillinger's leather-bound books, and held Rose close. "I never had a chance to read to him," she told the baby. "Your daddy likes to be read to. And I bet you will, too, one day."
And she clearly saw the picture that would never be: Dillinger holding Rose as he sat in front of the fireplace, this time with Auburn reading to him, all backlit by the beautiful Christmas tree.
It was her dream come true, her heart firmly in Christmas River with the man she adored. But as Pierre came lunging down the hall again, angry as a wounded bear, crazy with fever and maybe the snow madness, Auburn clutched Polly's earrings, held Rose tight, closed her eyes and let the future sweep her away.
* * *
DILLINGER WALKED INTO his house, saw his brother-in-law facedown on the rug in front of the fireplace. "Pierre, what the hell are you doing?"
He raised his head, his mouth slobbery and stuck with some fur from the rug. "Trying to kill your woman."
"My woman?" Dillinger glanced around. "Where's Auburn?"
"I don't know. She was here one second, and the next she was gone." Pierre laid his head back down.
"I think he's hallucinating," Bradley observed.
"We want him to think that," Dillinger said. "It's best that way." His heart was pounding, though, despite his brave words. Surely Pierre was only out of his head? Auburn wouldn't leave him or Rose, Dillinger was certain.
Bradley's eyes were huge. "I'm sure Auburn is around here somewhere."
Realization flooded him and Dillinger's heart went into a panicked overdrive. Every nerve, every inch of his soul screamed out.
She was gone!
He was going to die of a broken heart.
"She kicked me," Pierre said, his tone pitiful, "and I think she broke one of my ribs."
Dillinger smiled grimly. Auburn wouldn't have hurt anyone unless she'd felt threatened.
Pierre groaned. "My sister would never have kicked anyone. It's unseemly."
"You dope," Bradley said, "it's unseemly to try to kill a defenseless woman with a baby."
The baby! Dillinger had nearly forgotten Rose in his abject heartbreak that Auburn was gone. He was hoping she'd walk out of her room any minute, and they'd all laugh at Pierre's fever-induced hallucinations. But the house was eerily quiet, bereft of a baby's cries, laughter, or Auburn humming.
"Auburn! Rose!" he shouted, striding to the bedroom. She wasn't there. And she wouldn't have gone outdoors with the baby, not with it being about ten degrees outside.
His heart shattered, more painful than a gunshot wound.
It was three days before Christmas Eve. He should have known he couldn't escape the curse of Christmas.
He wanted to take the tree and toss it out the door into the snow. He hated Christmas and always would, forever and forever. This was the second time he'd lost a woman he loved in this cursed season, but this time he'd also lost a child.
Bradley peeked into the room. "I don't suppose she's here?"
Dillinger shook his head, unable to speak past the burning in his throat.
"Aw, man. That stinks, dude. I'm real sorry for you."
He and Bradley had had a long talk while they were out checking fences and cattle. Bradley had confessed that he was ashamed of what he'd done, had no intention of carrying through the terms of the loan. He'd also realized Auburn was a great person, but not necessarily the woman he wanted. All this realization had come to him after staying in Dillinger's house a few days.
"I didn't want to do the corporate thing all my life," Bradley had said, "and that's just part of the deal with the McGinnises. You can't see it in Auburn now, but she loves her Versace, her Vera Wang and her Vuitton. She calls them the three Vs
of bliss."
Dillinger didn't know what those were, but he figured Auburn knew what she liked, and that was okay with him as long as she moved him onto the Bliss List.
"It's expensive keeping up with a girl like that," Bradley had told him, and Dillinger felt sorry that Bradley didn't realize a man should be enough for a woman, and not feel any less because of his financial situation.
In the end, the two of them came to an agreement, and Dillinger decided Bradley was all right, he just needed a few years of seasoning in the country. With hard work he'd toughen up a bit and make a worthy human.
The Cowboy from Christmas Past Page 13