In Your Arms (Montana Romance)

by Farmer, Merry

  “I love you,” she sighed as she caught her breath. She twisted to her side, curling an arm and a leg around him so that she could hold him as the need to sleep carried her away. “I love you so much.”

  He stroked his hand along her arm, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved,” he said, hazy and contented. He placed her hand over his heart. “You’re the only woman I’ll ever want, I’ll ever need, for the rest of my life.”

  She smiled, eyes closed, snuggling against him. Let the storm rage all it wanted outside. Tonight she was safe in Christian’s arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Christian awoke to a stillness so deep he thought he was still dreaming. The world was silent. The wind had calmed outside, leaving bright white light streaming in through the windows. He was warm with the loose feeling of having slept like a rock. Best of all, Lily was still tucked against him.

  He shifted so that he could look at her without waking her. Her eyes were closed and her reddened mouth slightly open. Her body was soft against his, without tension for a change. Her black hair spilled against the pillow.

  He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. No wonder she was so exhausted. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and she had been carrying the weight of the world for who knew how long. He placed a light kiss on the top of her forehead, wishing he could reach more without disturbing her. As far as he was concerned, she would never have to carry any load without him ever again.

  When he was convinced that she was still so deeply asleep that he wouldn’t wake her, he slipped out of bed. There were things that needed to be taken care of, plans that needed to be made. The restless hollow in his chest that should have been contented was still there, but at least now he knew how to fill it.

  He gathered his clothes and took them into the main room to wash and dress. The horses looked at him like he was crazy as he dashed silently around the room, relighting the fire, coaxing the frozen pump to give water again, and searching every cabinet and closet for something that would suit his purposes. It didn’t help the heat of his plan that he also had to clean up horse manure from the floor and clear away the dinner dishes from the night before, but by the time he finished with his tasks, his heart was filled with confidence.

  Lily was still asleep when he crept back into the bedroom, his hands full of an odd assortment of sticks and paper. He sat on the corner of the bed and leaned close to kiss her, first her forehead and then her lips. She stirred and came awake slowly. He scooted closer to her, unable to resist the urge to kiss her awake.

  She sucked in a breath and stretched as the last of her sleep flew away. The bright light pouring into the room made her blink rapidly. She rubbed her eyes.

  “Christian.” She said his name with a smile as her sleepy eyes focused on him.

  “Sweetheart,” he answered and kissed her again.

  She tried to sit, pulling herself up toward the headboard. The bedcovers slipped, revealing her breasts for one tantalizing moment before she caught the quilt and held it to her chest. Christian chuckled and took hold of the quilt, pushing it back down again so that he could drink his fill of the sight of her round breasts and their dark rose nipples. He thanked every star in heaven that Lily laughed at his boyish gesture.

  “What is that?” she asked, nodding to the creation in his other hand.

  He smiled and presented the collection to her.

  “I wanted to bring you flowers,” he said, “but it’s winter and there are none. So I made them.”

  He’d gone through the kindling box, taking out the longest, slenderest sticks to use as stems. Then he’d searched until he’d found an old newspaper tucked away in a cupboard and some yarn. He’d ripped squares of newspaper and tied them in bundles on the end of the sticks. The result was something that looked vaguely like paper flowers, but more like the project of a well-meaning but incompetent child.

  “They’re beautiful.” Lily laughed as she took them. She even held them to her face and pretended to smell. “Thank you.”

  Christian’s smile widened. He slipped off the corner of the bed and dropped to his knees, reaching out to take her hand.

  “Are we saying prayers now?” she asked, inching to the side of the bed.

  “Oh, I think the time for prayers is long past, love.”

  He shifted so that he was on one knee, holding her free hand with both of his.

  “Lily, my life has been a mess since you walked into that interview at the school. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep or know my own mind since that moment. I’ve made a horrible mash of things. I’ve been as much of an arrogant bastard as you always want to call me. I selfishly took what I wanted without thinking about consequences.”

  “Oh, Christian.” She began blinking again, this time to fight back tears.

  “You deserve the best life has to offer. You deserve a strong, thoughtful husband capable of changing the world for you. You deserve to be happy in every way, because you are the kindest, the bravest, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You deserve so many things, but I hope you’ll settle for me.”

  He shifted closer to her, surprised that his throat was closing up and his eyes burned with tears.

  “Lily, will you marry me?”

  She sniffed, setting her fake flowers aside and stroking her fingertips along the side of his face. The gesture was electric.

  “You know I will,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Not for some plan to save your job or because people think that’s what we should do. Will you marry me because you want to, because…because you love me?”

  For one quivering heartbeat the fear that she didn’t love him, that all this was in his imagination, froze him. Then she leaned toward him, the bedclothes falling to her waist, and kissed him with such fervent passion that there would never be doubt in his mind again. Her mouth was hungry against his, her tongue mischievous. The aching love in his heart pounded through his entire body, settling with equal strength in his groin.

  He pushed off his knees and slid onto the bed and overtop of her, tangling with Lily and the sheets and quilt in his eagerness to hold and kiss her. She wrapped her arms around him, spreading her fingers through his hair, and smiled as she kissed him.

  “Yes,” she said when he let her up for air. “Yes, I will marry you! Because I want to and most especially because I love you.”

  His heart swelled to bursting in his chest. The pure white light pouring in through the windows must have come from the joy inside of him. He hadn’t thought it was possible to be so happy.

  In spite of having just washed and dressed, he stripped his clothes off again and burrowed under the covers with Lily. They made love with slow tenderness, in no hurry to go anywhere or cater to anyone other than themselves. It was the most natural and good thing in the world. Anyone who wanted to criticize or look down on either of them for causing a scandal would have him to answer to. Making love to the woman who belonged in his arms was so much a part of loving her that it couldn’t be wrong.

  At last their passions were spent and all they wanted to do was lie tangled up together in the warm, cozy bed. The wind outside blew occasional gusts of snow against the windowpane that tinkled like tiny chimes. Christian lay with his eyes closed, stroking Lily’s side, unwilling to let himself doze off when there was so much to feel. Lily breathed gently beside him.

  With a sudden gasp, her ease vanished. “Oh, dear!”

  “What?” He held her tighter.

  She met his eyes, wavering between upset and exhaustion. “The town council meeting. It’s today at noon.”

  A twist of regret squeezed Christian’s heart. “We’re not going to make it.”

  It was the truth, the simple, inescapable truth. Lily let out a breath and snuggled against him once more.

  “I suppose that’s it then,” she said. “My life as a teacher is over.”

  A lo
ng silence rested between them. With all his heart, Christian wanted to deny it. It was unjust, as so many other things were. Lily was the best teacher Cold Springs had ever seen. He didn’t have children at the school, but he still knew it. There wasn’t a prayer in heaven that the likes of Samuel Kuhn would let her keep her position when she had so blatantly broken the rules.

  “Good thing your new life is just beginning,” he said.

  It couldn’t possibly be consolation for a woman who was so used to standing on her own two feet and ruling her own life, but she hugged him anyhow.

  “We could have lots of children and I’ll teach them,” she said.

  The thought put a smile on his face that spread from ear to ear.

  “You won’t hear any objections from me.”

  The storm was over and the sky was bright and clear, but more than eighteen inches of snow had buried the Montana countryside. Lily stood in the open door of Sturdy Oak’s house later that afternoon, dressed in her winter things and ready to go home. One look at the landscape around them and she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Do you think the horses can make it through snow this deep?” she asked Christian as he came to stand behind her.

  He rubbed his chin, bearded now with more than just a trace of stubble, and sighed.

  “Maybe they could for a short distance. I’m worried they could step on something and hurt themselves. We might be able to ride to one of the farms close to here, see if they have a sleigh to take us back to town.”

  She leaned against his chest and he put his arms around her. “Do you think conditions might be better tomorrow?”

  He hummed with laughter and kissed the side of her forehead. “Almost certainly.”

  They stayed another night. The provisions that had been left behind in the house were enough to keep them from going hungry, but not enough to give Lily the sense that she wanted to stay there forever. As magical as it was to be with Christian uninterrupted, to talk with him in front of the roaring fire, to attempt to teach him to knit with the supplies that had been left behind, and to make love to him for long, beautiful hours, the horses put a damper on what could have been a romantic retreat. They were still in the house out of necessity, and when they didn’t need water or food, they needed cleaning up after.

  The next day dawned as clear as the one before. After a long lie-in and a late breakfast, Lily and Christian decided that they would have to attempt to make it back to town.

  “We’ll pack a few things, the rest of that bread you made and a couple canteens of water, in case something happens and we get stuck along the way,” Christian said.

  Lily stopped midway through putting their breakfast dishes away and arched an eyebrow. “Will we get stuck along the way?”

  He crossed the room to her and kissed her forehead. “No. We won’t.”

  Two hours later, as the horses slogged their way through snow that reached their knees, Lily wasn’t so sure.

  The world they struggled to pass through was blinding white with snow and sun in every direction. Any distinguishable landmark had been buried so deep even its shape was obscured. Christian pushed ahead, a stern but certain expression in his eyes as he scanned the horizon, looking for signs that would show him the way. It could have been worse, the snow could have still been coming down. At least with the direction they were going, even if they were off-track and missed the road, they would still be able to see farmhouses.

  It was the sight of one of those farmhouses when the sun was well past its zenith that flooded Lily with relief. Christian pointed out the trail of smoke rising up from the chimney and rode straight for it. Lily was beyond grateful when they passed through the front gates of the homestead and onto a path that had been cleared.

  Her gratitude caught in her throat when the front door opened and Grover Turner rushed out onto the porch.

  Grover Turner, the boy whose father she and Christian had caught as a thief and landed in prison.

  They rode up to the porch. Christian dismounted and came to help Lily off of her horse. As her stiff and frozen feet hit the snowy ground, Rebecca Turner joined Grover on the porch with a baby in her arms.

  “Rebecca,” Christian called a greeting to her. He took Lily’s hand and led her up the stairs and onto the porch.

  “Mr. Avery, Miss Singer,” Rebecca Turner greeted them with a blank expression and shaded eyes. In the bright light reflecting off the snow, Lily saw the fading yellow marks of a bruise on the side of her face. “What brings you out here on a day like this?” she asked.

  “We were caught in the blizzard and have been holed up at Sturdy Oak’s place for the last day and a half,” Christian answered as though a man and a woman trapped alone and far from town was an everyday occurrence.

  Rebecca Turner stared at him. Her thoughts were completely hidden. She turned to look at Lily with the same eerie vacancy. A prickling chill raced down Lily’s spine. This woman must hate her for her part in putting her husband in jail.

  “I’ve fixed an early supper,” she said without a hint of malice. “I’d be grateful if you’d join us. Grover, put the horses in the barn.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Grover said. There was something different about him. The grim confrontation that never left his eyes was gone. Instead, he smiled from ear to ear at Lily and Christian as he passed them and rushed down the stairs to take care of their horses.

  “We’ve got a little bit to add to your feast if you need it,” Christian said as they passed through the door and into the tiny house.

  “Thank you, but we have enough,” Rebecca answered.

  The nicest thing that could be said about the house was that it was clean. However much money Bo Turner had gained from his thievery, it was clear none of it had been spent here. Three more neat but thin children waited inside. They were quiet but cheerful, singing a spirited hymn as they carried dishes from the kitchen to the long table in the main room. The scene felt as out of place and disjointed as finding Sturdy Oak’s house abandoned.

  “Look, Rebecca,” Christian began, taking off his hat. “I’m sorry about what happened to Bo.”

  “Don’t be,” Rebecca answered.

  Christian shifted his weight, brushing a speck of dust off of the brim of his hat.

  “You know it was Lily and I who caught him at the store and….”

  “I know,” Rebecca said. “Please, sit.”

  She walked to the head of the table and pulled out the chair, the place of honor, for Christian, then did the same with the chair on the right for Lily. Lily and Christian exchanged a look, then took the seats they were offered.

  “There will be a trial, I’m sure,” Christian went on as Rebecca handed the baby off to the oldest girl. “With any luck, Bo will serve his time and—”

  “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in nearly thirteen years, Mr. Avery,” Rebecca interrupted him. “These last two nights I’ve slept safe and sound for the first time since my wedding night. We all have. I have you to thank for that.”

  She didn’t say another word. Instead she took a bowl of potatoes from the center of the table and served both Lily and Christian heaping spoonfuls.

  A new, uncomfortable emotion closed Lily’s throat and brought tears to her eyes. For the past two days all she had been able to think about was the scandal that had been caused by her and Christian being discovered together. It had never dawned on her that the reason they had been caught together, the crime they had foiled, had stopped chaos of a different kind. She had lost her job, yes, but as Rebecca served them then sat down, Grover returning to join them in a simple grace, it dawned on her that they had caught a criminal. More than just a robbery had been stopped that night.

  “You’re coming to the play tonight, aren’t you, Miss Singer?” Grover asked from his place across the table from her as they ate.

  “Play?” Lily blinked. She sucked in a breath when she remembered. “It’s History Night!”

  “You’re coming, rig
ht?” Grover asked again.

  Lily thought of the disappointment in Mr. Prescott’s face as he’d dismissed her. She remembered the bitter insults Alicia Kuhn had hurled at her classroom door. She imagined the distain the town council must have felt when neither she nor Christian showed up for the meeting to decide her fate.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she told Grover, eyes downcast.

  “Of course it would!” Grover exclaimed. “You have to come!” His bold, twelve-year-old petulance only broke Lily’s heart further.

  “We’ll see when we get back into town, son,” Christian answered for her. “For now, let’s just enjoy this good food your mother made for us”

  He glanced across the table to where Rebecca sat eating with one hand and nursing her baby with the other. For the first time in what Lily imagined was a long time, Rebecca smiled.

  A swell of pride filled Lily’s heart. She understood. Her whole life she’d yearned to belong to someone, to something, only to feel lost. Christian, on the other hand, knew what it was to be a part of a community. He had risked so much to do what was right, to bring justice and peace to people like Rebecca and Grover and the rest of the family. She had fought for the rights of Sturdy Oak’s grandchildren even though it had seemed to her like she was working against them. He wasn’t. He had worked for the benefit of the whole town. She understood why as the Turner children laughed and chewed their food, no fear in their eyes.

  She had never felt prouder or been more in love in her life.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lily faced the drive back to Cold Springs with a heart full of dread.

  “Everyone in town will know what happened now,” she whispered to Christian. They sat huddled together in the sleigh as Grover drove them slowly along snow-covered roads. “They’ll see us returning together and that will be the end of it.”

  “The end of what?” Christian answered her, an irritating grin tweaking the corners of his mouth.