He hadn’t really believed it, though—not until he’d met Ada.
“All right, then. Let’s see about getting that snow cleared for your mother.”
He wanted to surprise her by having the pathway to the barn and outhouse cleared for her before she awoke. Maybe if he made himself useful, she’d see the advantage in keeping him around a little longer.
The pair set to work. As much as Levi tried to minimize the movement on his injured side, the muscles on the left of his torso burned and ached. By the time they finished, he leaned his weight against the shovel and questioned the wisdom of his actions.
“You gonna stay for Christmas, Mr. MacAllistair?”
Levi wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over at Micah. The boy tossed snow into the air and Bruce leaped up to capture it, with minimal success. Levi had already made peace with the fact that if Ada stuck to her guns and sent him on his way, he would leave the dog with Micah. A boy needed a dog, in his estimation. Especially a boy with no other companions to speak of.
“Can’t quite say,” Levi answered. “And I believe I asked you to call me Levi.”
“You did, but Ma said I had to call you Mr. MacAllistair.” Micah made a face. “It’s kinda a mouthful.”
Levi laughed. “I suppose you’re right on that account.” But he didn’t contradict Ada, no matter that he thought the formality unnecessary. “C’mon. Let’s go inside and get some of that warm cider simmering on the stove.”
They tramped inside and stomped the snow from their boots. Levi shrugged out of his coat. Sweat had soaked the back of his shirt, and his legs wobbled as if he’d hiked up one of the mountains poking into the horizon. He undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it off, setting it by the fire to dry out before struggling out of his undershirt. Getting dressed proved a far easier ordeal than getting undressed.
He managed to pull up the shirt far enough to cover his face before he heard Micah laugh. “You want some help?”
Levi grinned. “I’d be much obliged.”
He bent down and let Micah pull the shirt over his head, then down his arms, finishing the task with a flourish that included a spin and a bow, much to the delight of Bruce, who barked his approval, then grabbed the shirt and started a tug-of-war competition. Micah’s laughter filled the cabin and he promptly wrestled the shirt away from the pup and set it next to the other one by the fire.
“Them shirts are kinda big on you.”
“They were your pa’s shirts.”
“Oh.”
Something in the way he answered, the flatness of his tone and the lack of emotion that went with the one-word answer, caught Levi’s attention. “You miss him?”
Micah shrugged and scooped Bruce up off the floor, hugging him close. “Suppose.”
Levi hesitated. He wasn’t in a position to take anyone to task for not feeling overly warm toward their pa, but Micah’s comment surprised him. “You didn’t get along?”
Another shrug. “I don’t think he liked me much.”
Levi straightened, his hands resting on his hips as he stared down at Micah, who maintained an oddly neutral expression despite the weight of his comment. Levi couldn’t quite fathom it. The boy was downright likable, and while he hadn’t spent a lot of time in the company of kids, he figured Micah was the kind of boy any man should be proud to call son. For a fleeting moment, he’d hoped—
Well, that was neither here nor there now.
“Well, I like you just fine.”
Micah smiled and the twinkle returned to his dark blue eyes. Bruce leaned up and licked the underside of the boy’s chin before falling back into his arms. Something ached deep inside Levi’s chest. He rubbed at the spot, but the feeling remained.
“You know what this place needs,” Levi said, turning the conversation in a lighter direction.
“What?”
“A tree. I hear people do that around Christmas, don’t they? Put a tree up. Some decorations and such.”
Levi had never had the opportunity to celebrate Christmas or to have a tree, unless you counted the branch Abbot Connolly had somehow smuggled into their cell one year after it had blown into the main yard. He’d propped it up in a corner and proclaimed it Christmas. It was February by then, but Levi hadn’t been about to ruin the old man’s joy. During those days, you learned to take joy where you could find it.
Micah’s face brightened and he nodded. “We were gonna get one, but the snow’s been too deep for me and Ma to get into the woods through the drifts.”
“What do you say after breakfast we go out and find a proper Christmas tree?” He figured his side hurt like the devil already—what more damage could he do? Besides, seeing the kid’s face light up as it did made the pain sting a little less.
“What are you doing?”
Levi spun on his heel to face Ada and his heart stopped. With her standing there with her hair tousled from sleep, her cheeks rosy and her body swathed in nothing more than a nightdress, warm knit slippers and a knitted wrap, he couldn’t think of a time he’d thought her more beautiful. The truth of that realization hit him square in the chest and traveled downward with the speed of a wildfire on a dry plain.
“We was shoveling, Ma.”
He was glad Micah answered, because all he could think of while staring at the disheveled blond waves pouring over her narrow shoulders and the sleepy expression stamped across her pretty face was how much he wanted to lift her into his arms and march them both into the bedroom and make up for all the years he’d missed with her.
She wrapped her arms across her chest as if she could read his unruly thoughts. “Were shoveling, Micah.” Her gaze narrowed on Levi, fixated on his chest. “You’re fit enough to shovel?”
The words she didn’t say drifted between them. The suggestion that if he was able to shovel, he was well enough to get on his horse and ride on to Salvation Falls without delay. He considered his options, but given lying had never been a skill he’d adopted with much success, he opted for the truth.
“Seems so. Figured I’d give you a hand. Help out around—”
Her chin lifted to a militant angle. “I don’t require your assistance, Levi. Micah and I can manage just fine, thank you.”
She got her back up quicker than a bucking bronco with a burr under his saddle any time he suggested lending a hand. “I didn’t say you couldn’t manage. I just said, while I’m here, I might as well earn my keep.”
“We’re gonna get us a Christmas tree, Ma!”
Anger flared in Ada’s eyes and as her gaze shot back to meet his, their conversation from the other day echoed in his mind.
I don’t want Micah to grow attached to you.
But what about the attachment Levi felt for the boy?
“I figured with the deep snow it might be easier for me to get through the drifts. I can carry Micah on my back until we get past the worst of them.”
Her gaze left Levi and rested on her son, where it softened, her love for him as clear as day. What it must be like to have that. To know a mother’s love. He’d never known his own ma. She’d taken off when he was only five. His memories of her were like daydreams that drifted through his mind and disappeared.
“Fine, then,” she acquiesced and Micah rewarded her by setting Bruce on the ground and throwing his arms around her waist. Her fingers threaded through her son’s dark hair and she planted a swift kiss on top of the mussed-up locks. “But bundle up. I don’t want any frozen fingers and toes coming back, do you hear me?”
“We will, Ma.”
“And you’ll eat a hearty breakfast before you go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Levi answered, offering her his most charming smile.
For a brief moment, the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Levi had to check himself. He wanted to pull her to him and kiss her until that glimmer erupted into a full-fledged smile. Instead he stood there and soaked it in, accepting the small victory.
Her expression softened as s
he looked over the top of Micah’s head. “Thank you for helping.”
“You’re welcome.”
The sudden sense of inclusion in this small family pulled deep inside of him, a strange combination of pain and pleasure. God help him, but he wanted to be a part of it. Part of this life she had made for herself and her son. Hang Salvation Falls. If she would let him, he’d stay right here in this little cabin with her and Micah.
Every hope and dream he’d harbored from the moment he’d met her crept out from the shadows and shook off the dust they’d collected, standing before him stark and unadorned. Ada Baxter had been the only real sense of family he’d ever known. In the short time they’d had together, he had felt loved. Had been loved. It hadn’t been a lie or a lark. She had loved him, there was no mistaking it. If she hadn’t, he’d have been shown the door long before now, injuries or none.
“I’ll see to breakfast then,” she said, quietly, breaking the spell between them, though not completely. It lingered in the air around them like the Christmas magic Micah talked about, filled with hopes and wishes and possibility. Victory, no matter how small, sang in his veins.
Levi smiled at Ada’s retreating back as she made her way to the kitchen area.
Micah moved to stand next to him and nudged his arm. “I think she likes you,” he whispered.
Levi didn’t respond, but he couldn’t stop the fool’s grin that broke out across his face. Maybe he’d get that Christmas wish after all.
Chapter Six
Ada lost count of the number of excuses she gave for why she kept glancing out the window waiting for Levi and Micah’s return from the thick copse of woods they’d disappeared into to find their tree. Bruce lifted his head from near the fire and whined, echoing her feelings.
“They’ll be home soon, pup.”
It frightened her how seamlessly Levi had eased into the fabric of their lives. Had a week passed already? His sense of warmth and laughter had infiltrated the shadowed corners of the small cabin and shone a bright light into them, illuminating everything that had been missing in their lives. Everything she had once thought her life would be.
But those days were past. She needed to stop hanging on to a dream. With a shake of her head, she returned to her rocking chair near the hearth and picked up her knitting. The fire warmed her legs and the smooth click-clack of the needles provided a small distraction. She thought to make Micah a warm pair of woolen socks for Christmas, but when she stopped to start the heel, it was clear her mind had wandered. The sizing did not match up and too late she realized it wasn’t Micah she had been knitting for, but Levi. She moved to unravel the half-worked piece but stopped herself. It would be a parting gift, something to keep his feet warm against the Colorado winter as he rode off to his new life in Salvation Falls.
Her gaze shifted to the window once again. Sunlight shimmered against the white landscape.
What if we went with him?
She shook her head at the recalcitrant thought.
“Stop it,” she admonished herself. “That is one tree you do not want to be barking up.”
Besides, Levi hadn’t made a single overture in that direction. Not really. Oh, he’d been charming—that man couldn’t wake up in the morning without charming the sun out of its slumber. But he hadn’t touched her. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Heat rushed through her at the memory of his chest brushing against her back as he’d reached for the plates. The tip of his finger brushing against her lip, whispering against her skin.
What do you really want?
Yearning raged through her, need and regret fast on its heels, unearthing desires she’d spent years denying. Desires that went beyond needing the comfort of a warm body. She’d had a warm body in her bed for nigh on five years, and not once during that time had she experienced an ounce of the passion she’d shared with Levi before his arrest. She hadn’t been able to resist him. She still couldn’t. He had her heart. He always had. For him, she had given up everything—propriety, common sense, Marilla’s good opinion. For him, she had stepped away from promised safety and stability and had taken a chance. She had opened her heart. Loved.
And for her trouble, she’d been gifted with hurt, a broken heart and a baby growing inside of her.
Levi’s baby.
How humiliated she had been, crawling back to Marilla and Harlan, pride in hand. She’d had nowhere else—no one else—to turn to. Marilla had agreed to take her in, but at a price. And for the entirety of their marriage, Harlan had held that price over her head. He had never let her forget that he’d saved her and her son. Never let her forget that she owed him.
The door flew open and Ada jumped to her feet, juggling the knitting in her hand and the ball of yarn in her lap. Bruce scrambled to his feet and ran past her. Levi came through the opening first, bent over and pulling the trunk of a Douglas fir with his good arm. Micah followed at the other end of the tree, a smile as expansive as the horizon spilling across his face.
“We got one, Ma! It’s a beauty!” The dog barked and bounced as if to verify Micah’s claim.
The scents of sap and fir filled the small space as they laid the tree in the middle of the floor. The snow that clung to its needles melted and dripped into a puddle beneath it as the fire’s warmth reached out to encompass it. When it was upright, she guessed its top would sit level with Levi’s eyes, but its substantial width made her glance around the cabin.
“Where exactly are we going to put this?”
Levi’s gaze followed hers and when she met it, he laughed, his eyes bright. Humor carved itself into every plane and angle of his rugged face. He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
She wanted to be angry. Wanted to grasp something—anything—that would keep her from falling for Levi’s smile, to stop the warmth spreading through her center at the sound of his laughter. But it eluded her and before she could stop herself, she did something she could not remember doing in a very long time.
She laughed.
She laughed at the joy in her son’s face. At the absurdly fat tree. And at the handsome, charming man who had tromped through drifts of snow to chop it down. Their laughter filled the room, so wonderful and welcome that she didn’t ever want it to stop.
“Well,” she said, catching her breath. “I suppose we should find a spot for it. Maybe we could move the sofa a bit and set it in the corner?”
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement and they set about moving the necessary furniture. Levi nailed two thin planks of wood to the bottom of the tree to hold it upright and they nestled it into the corner.
“Smells like Christmas, doesn’t it?” Micah stated, hands on his narrow hips as he looked from the tree to Levi.
An emotion Ada couldn’t define flitted across Levi’s features, causing his smile to waver slightly. “I will take your word for it.”
The sad truth plowed through her conscience like a runaway train, whistles blowing, demanding her attention. Levi had grown up under horrible circumstances for a child, moving from place to place with a father who spent his life in pursuit of crime. When Levi had finally made a move to leave that life behind, he’d found himself in prison. Of course he had never had a proper Christmas. How could she send him on his way just days before and rob him of the chance to have one now?
“Then you’re in for a treat,” she said.
He glanced at her sharply, a question in his gaze she had no answer for. What would it cost her to allow him to stay?
Only her heart.
But he had that already, didn’t he?
The rest of the afternoon passed with chores, and once their bellies were full and the dinner dishes washed and put away, she tucked Micah into bed with Bruce snuggled next to him and brushed back the thick, dark hair that was so much like his father’s.
Her heart twisted.
She needed to tell Levi. The longer he stayed the more her conscience demanded to be heard. It was the right thing to do, but whenever she tried to find the
words, fear hid them away and whispered into her heart—would he understand? Forgive her? Turn his back on her? Take Micah away to a better life than the one she could give him?
She didn’t like the answer she came up with.
“It was a good day, wasn’t it, Ma?”
She shook the thoughts away and pulled the quilt up higher to keep Micah warm until she joined him later. “It was a good day.” She placed a kiss on her son’s forehead. “Go to sleep, little man. Tomorrow we’ll need to figure out how to decorate that behemoth you brought home.”
He nodded, already beginning his descent into slumber. How she wished she could find such oblivion. But sleep had eluded her since Levi’s arrival. Each time she closed her eyes, the memories teased her and the truth taunted her and the fear tormented her. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on like this before the dam broke and everything flooded out.
What would happen if it did?
She waited until Micah’s breathing was deep and even, then gave him one more kiss and returned to the main area of the house. She stopped short.
Saints preserve her, was it too much to ask that the man keep his shirt on? “What are you doing?”
Levi glanced up from where he stood in front of the hearth. He had stripped down to his denims and his fingers probed at his bandaged wound, where a bright red dot soaked through the white strip of cotton. He gave her a regretful look.
“Think I might have popped a stitch or two when I was chopping the tree down.”
Her mind refused to work properly and her mouth went dry. It was hardly the first time she’d seen Levi in a state of undress since his arrival, but the way the fire’s light glinted off his skin, warmed it until she wanted to reach out and wrap herself around it—around him—
Stop it!
But it was too late. The thoughts were there. The memories were there. And so was the need. A desperate longing for him to hold her. Kiss her. Make her forget the past eight years she’d lived without all the things he’d promised her. Without him.
Dreaming of a Western Christmas: His Christmas BelleThe Cowboy of Christmas PastSnowbound with the Cowboy Page 15