A Cheyenne Christmas Homecoming

by Caroline Lee

  He was impressed. “So the more you write, the more you publish, the more you’ll get paid?”

  “Even if I don’t write anything else ever, I’ll still get paid from these stories!”

  “You ever think about quitting work, then? Going someplace simpler to just focus on your writing?”

  “Every day.” He could tell the words slipped out, and she regretted them. Lips pressed tightly together, she smiled thinly, apologetically. “I mean, you’ve met Mrs. Blakely. The whole family’s just like her. But I guess I feel I owe it to Jeremy to make sure he’s ready for school, and to help him become a slightly better person than his mother would have him be.”

  Nate toasted her, and that sentiment, with his wine glass. “You said you wanted to come to St. Louis to make a difference in the world. Even if Jeremy had been your only pupil—and I know you changed those other kids’ lives too—I’d say you’ve done that.”

  Her eyes met his, bright and full, and her lips parted slightly. “I think that’s the kindest thing anyone’s said to me in a long while, Nate.”

  “Well then,” he took a sip, “I’ll have to try harder.” She flushed and looked down at her plate. “You deserve the best in life, Wendy.” He just wished that he was worthy of giving it to her.

  “No I don’t.” He barely heard her whisper.

  “Yes you do. You’ve done great things, and you’re still doing them. You deserve to be pampered and taken care of, so that you can write to your heart’s content.”

  When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. Impulsively, he placed his hand on top of hers, where it lay on the table. The shock of her skin against his made him catch his breath, and try to tamp down his arousal. After a moment, she turned her hand over to lace her fingers through his. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive skin of the inside of her wrist, and hid his smile when she shuddered slightly. She wasn’t immune to his touch.

  The rest of the meal was mediocre, after that caress.

  During the cab ride back to the Blakely house, Wendy tried her hardest to imprint every moment of the evening on her memory. She told herself that she wanted to use it as fodder for one of her stories, but suspected it was because it was positively the most magical thing she’d ever experienced. And not just that incredible scene in the snowy woods, no. It was Nate who had made the evening so special, between his caring and his banter and his touch.

  Wendy rubbed her wrist, remembering the feel of his bare fingers on that skin. Who knew that part of her body was so sensitive? Not her, that was certain. She was no stranger to lust and arousal, but this… this was something different. Nate made her feel things she’d never imagined with another man, and couldn’t have begun to describe in written word.

  Nate made her feel complete.

  He was lounging next to her on the bench seat, his arm casually draped around her shoulders. Everything he did seemed so at-ease, and he always managed to look so relaxed. Only his gloved fingers, tapping out a rhythm on the arm rest, showed that he was furiously thinking.

  “I didn’t tell you why I got all suited up.”

  “You mean it wasn’t for me?” He smiled at her teasing, and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Besides that, I mean.” He took a deep breath, and Wendy felt it in her own chest. “I had a meeting yesterday, with Charles Green.” Wendy couldn’t place the name, so she raised a brow, inviting him to explain. “He runs the city Fairgrounds, and wants to buy our horses for the racetrack up there.”

  “Nate Barker!” She let some of her pride color her smile. “You’ve been in this city less than a week, and already you’re making business deals! Maybe you do belong here!”

  She’d been teasing, and the words just slipped out. If he was trying to fit into the city, it was because of her; he would never really ‘belong’ here. Judging from the cloud that passed over his expression, he knew it too.

  “I would stay, you know. If that’s what I could do to be with you. To make you happy.”

  Oh God. Why did he have to be so sweet? Why couldn’t he just let her go, and head back to Cheyenne and all the ladies she was sure had swooned for him over the last three years?

  He must have seen her expression, though, because he sighed. “But now I can’t. This is a good contract, Wendy. And I made a ballsy move, signing it without Ash’s input. I just committed us to providing runners for the next two years… I can’t turn all of that over to Ash to take care of. I have to be there with him.”

  She’d known that his visit would be only that: a visit. She’d known that he would go back home, and that’s what she wanted. But hearing him say it, so soon after she wished for it… took her by surprise. She gripped her hands together tightly, and willed them to be still.

  She felt him take a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “The thing is, Wendy… I’m not ready to leave you yet.” She melted a little more. “I want…” another deep breath, “I want you to come home with me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Not to explain why she couldn’t go home with him. But he didn’t give her a chance to say anything, just hurried on. “I know that you came here to make a difference, and I don’t want to get in the way of that, or ever make you feel like you have to choose between your work and your family. Really.”

  He pulled his hand from around her shoulders, and slipped it under the robe to grip her hands tightly. She clutched them like a lifeline, not sure if she was relieved or heart-broken that he thought she couldn’t go home because it would interfere with her work.

  “So I guess I’m not asking you to come home forever, Wendy. Come home for a visit. Just to see Molls and Annie and the kids, if nothing else. Celebrate Christmas with us again. It’s something special, with the kids now. I promise I’ll even bring you back, when you’re ready, even though I know you could—and did—make the trip by yourself. I mean, I know you’re capable…”

  He trailed off, as if aware that he was rambling. She loved him even more for it, for giving her credit for being able to handle a simple rail journey. Turning to him, she smiled up at him through tears she refused to shed, and squeezed his hands.

  “Thank you, Nate.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll… I’ll consider it.”

  He nodded once, gruffly, and was reaching for her with his free hand when the Hansom rolled to a stop. Shaking his head, he paid the cabbie and helped her down onto Park Avenue.

  Tucking her beside him again, they turned onto Pratte. He cleared his throat. “Can I take you to dinner again, Wendy? Don’t say no.”

  She was glad for the change of subject. “Maybe I’ll take you to dinner. What would you say to that?”

  He grinned slightly and tipped his head towards her. “I’d take you up on it. You always told me you were as good as I was. So I could stand to let you pay.” He bumped her shoulder with his, like they were kids.

  “Good. Tomorrow?”

  She caught his wince. “I have plans. Mr. Green wants to introduce me to his partners, so we’re having dinner at his club.”

  She gasped, and rocked to a stop. When he turned to her, she asked incredulously, “His club, Nate? That’s…”

  “Amazing, huh? Can you imagine? Inviting someone who looks like me…?”

  She took his arm again. “Oh, shut up. Not everyone is as close-minded and bigoted as you fear, you know. There are plenty of good, fair-minded people in this world, and Mr. Green obviously knows value and worth when he sees it.” This time she was the one to nudge him with her shoulder. It was a common refrain; something she’d tried to pound into his head as kids that obviously hadn’t stuck. “Besides, that’s not what I meant. I meant that no wonder you were looking so refined and civilized. You don’t just have a contract, Nate, you’re making business contacts! You are a natural, just like Ash always said.” Her brother-in-law claimed that while he was the one who was skilled with animals, Nate was the brains behind the ranch. Wendy, being loyal to her friend, believed him.
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br />   “Maybe.” Nate shrugged. “But now that I’ve got the chance to see you again, I’m regretting making the plans with Green. Not when I could spend another fantastic evening with you…”

  She smiled and pressed her cheek to his shoulder, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” They passed by the Blakely house, draped in all of its Christmas finery, and turned into the normally-bustling alley to take them to the back door. “Friday night, then?”

  “Of course.” Friday… Friday. There’d been something about Friday. Something that an evening with Nate had completely chased from her mind.

  “Good. And on Friday, I’m not picking you up at the back door, Wendy.” They halted in front of the stoop of the kitchen door. He turned her to face him, holding her arms gently. It was still snowing, but she felt unaccountably warm. “I’m marching up to the front again, and I’ll use the bell this time,” she smiled at his teasing, “but I’m not going to sulk like we’re doing something wrong. You’re a tutor, for God’s sake, not a criminal. You have the right to use their front door.” His voice had gone hard, and Wendy swallowed, her throat dry. This was his businessman’s voice, the one that brooked no argument. It had been years since she’d heard him command like this, and despite her innate belief that she was his equal, she couldn’t help being impressed by this bold Nate. He made her feel a little weak-kneed.

  When she didn’t respond right away, he gave her a little shake. “Alright, Wendy?”

  A nod was about all that she could manage. “Alright, Nate.”

  “Good...” His face went all soft again. He took a step closer to her, still holding her arms, and her hands came up to rest on his chest. They were pressed against one another, there on the back stoop of her employers’ house, where anyone could see… and staring up into his gorgeous eyes, holding her breath, Wendy positively didn’t care. She found herself pushing up on her tiptoes, straining to reach him.

  “And now, Wendy…” She swallowed as he leaned in towards her and dropped his voice to a whisper, “I’m not going to kiss you.” Wait, what? “I’ve been thinking about it all night—Hell, I’ve been thinking about it since Sunday. I’ve been thinking about it for years. That kiss was everything I’d imagined, and more, and I think you enjoyed it too.”

  Wendy was too confused to answer. He wasn’t going to kiss her? That’s a good thing, right? She didn’t want the distraction of his kiss interfering with her life, her determination. She didn’t need his touch reminding her of everything that she’d had and lost. But then, why did she feel so utterly deflated, to find out that she wasn’t going to be getting it?

  Nate wasn’t done with her, though. “But I’m not going to kiss you, because it—your reaction to it—confuses you, and you don’t like being confused.” God, he still knew her too well. “So I’m going to send you inside, and you’re going to lie in bed tonight, and you’re going to think about me not kissing you.” She swallowed at his command, wondering how she could do anything but think about his kisses. “And by Friday, I want you to be un-confused. Because you can damn well bet I’ll be kissing you then.”

  She had absolutely nothing to say to that. Nothing she could say, besides “oh.”

  He shook her, slightly. “But when you do that little thing with your lips like that, you’re really trying my resolve, so you’d better get inside.” Good thing he was still holding on to her, because she didn’t think she could find her way to the door at that point. As it was, he had to help her up the stairs, and help her find the key. Good Heavens, why was she so weak-kneed? What had he—this bold Nate—done to her?

  He pushed open the door, and shooed her inside. Her last view of him was him pulling the door shut again. “Good night, Wendy.” And then he was gone.

  She slumped against the door. “Good night,” she whispered to the dark kitchen. It was a long few minutes before she felt strong enough to throw the lock and tiptoe upstairs to her room. She performed her ablutions, but found that she was too excited, too full of memories, too aroused, to sleep.

  Instead, she sat down at her little table with her latest story and tried to capture the way Nate made her feel. She wasn’t entirely successful, but she drew on the magic on the evening to enhance her characters’ romance. Madly scribbling across the journal pages, she held her breath, afraid of losing the memories before she could get them down on paper.

  Her Hero had come to rescue her Heroine from the hell she’d gotten herself into.

  Like Nate, boldly sweeping into her life, planting impossible dreams. Could she go home with him, even for a visit? Could she celebrate Christmas with her family one more time?

  Did she deserve rescuing?

  CHAPTER TEN

  December 21, 1883

  Tonight had been even better than Wednesday evening. When Nate had arrived back at Mrs. Gardner’s that night, the older lady had taken one look at him and burst into laughter. “You look like a cat that’s got into the cream, young man. Can I assume she kissed you back tonight?”

  “Nope.” But he’d smiled. “No kissing. But a nice time anyhow.” He’d retreated to his room before his grinning landlady could offer him any whiskey, and spent the night thinking about Wendy. And how stupid he’d been not to kiss her.

  But the gamble had paid off, because she’d been much more at ease with him tonight when he’d picked her up. He’d marched right up to the front door—lavishly hung with garlands and red bows—and rang the bell. A stately silver-haired old man in a dark suit had opened the door, and stared at the visitor impassively. Nate bristled, and opened his mouth to tell him that he was there for Wendy… when she appeared. She must have been waiting for him in the parlor, and was already wearing her coat and bonnet. He would have liked to wait on her in the foyer, to help her get ready to go out… but he supposed that he’d take what he could get. For now.

  “Thank you, Martin.” Her voice had been low as she slipped by the older man.

  Nate was surprised to see a smile crease Martin’s face, as his gaze flicked from her to Nate. “Have a good time, Miss Murray.”

  She slipped out onto the porch, and as Martin was shutting the door, Nate had heard Mrs. Blakely’s voice call out from inside “Who was that, Martin? Who was at the door?”

  Wendy burst into giggles and fairly tripped down the steps to link her arm through his. “Come on! Let’s get out of here before she comes to check.” She started pulling him down Pratte, but Nate pretended to hang back out of concern.

  “You forgot your glasses, Wendy. Wanna go back and ask Mrs. Blakely to help look for them?”

  “Shhh!” She slapped his arm playfully, still dragging down Pratte Avenue. “I didn’t forget them, I left them at home. I wanted to look nice tonight, and I look more dignified without them.”

  He couldn’t contain his laughter then. “Oh yeah! You look plenty dignified now.”

  Realizing she’d been practically running away from the house, Wendy abruptly pulled to a stop, and dissolved into giggles as well. It took a few moments before, breathless, they were able to continue on their way.

  It had been the start of a remarkably fun evening. How long had it been since he’d had real fun with a woman? Not since Wendy had left, definitely. He’d never really opened up with people outside of his family; they were the ones who knew and loved him… and Wendy was one of them. Tonight, they’d been like kids again; laughing and teasing and even throwing snowballs at each other again.

  He’d taken her to Fairgrounds Park to show her the zoo animals—which she’d seen several times with Jeremy—and the racetracks, which she’d never seen. He explained Green’s idea about building a larger grandstand and selling concessions, and making the races an actual event to be seen at, rather than just someplace gamblers went. She’d been impressed, but more interested in his role in the enterprise. And he had to admit that it had made him puff up a bit to see how proud she was of him.

 
Afterwards, they went to Faust’s Oyster House downtown on Broadway. It was famous enough that Nate had heard of it even out in Cheyenne, although he’d never thought he’d have the chance to try it. It was overpriced, and he hadn’t been thrilled by the food, but the atmosphere made up for it. Of course they hadn’t eaten in the roof-top dining room, but they’d snuck up there to see it anyhow. And Wendy had looked… well, just stunning. She blushed when he’d told her that, and explained she’d purchased the pale blue confection for an engagement party her last employer threw for a niece. Nate didn’t care where she’d gotten it; it was perfect for her. She looked like a goddess.

  They laughed a lot, and he teased her mercilessly about not wearing her spectacles, and offered to describe the décor for her. She stuck her tongue out at him—in public!—and teased him right back about his table manners. They had a grand time talking about Nate’s plans for the Barker horses, and her writing. He asked her all sorts of questions about her characters and plots, and thought that he could sit there for hours—his chin propped up on one hand—listening to her gush excitedly about her ideas for future books.

  Sitting there, in a fancy restaurant, all decked out in his new ridiculous finery, across from the most engaging woman he could imagine, made Nate feel… like a real man. Not like a half-breed Indian kid who was just pretending to run his brother’s ranch. Proud to be here, with her, looking like he belonged.

  And now they were walking back down Park Avenue, peering into windows of shops all decked out for Christmas and watching other strolling couples. The evening had been perfect, and he’d made a point of not pushing her to give him an answer about coming back to visit Cheyenne. But he’d noticed the way her breath hitched whenever he touched her. She might have seemed at ease with him, but it was an act. His caresses made her hot, and he knew she was thinking about his threat to kiss her tonight.