A Cheyenne Christmas Homecoming

by Caroline Lee

  Her breath caught in her throat. Had Molly always looked so much like their mother? Or had the last three years changed her so much? And why was she so blurry? Wendy checked that she was wearing her glasses, and realized with a start that she was crying.

  And then her sister was there, in front of her, and they were both crying, and hugging, and laughing. “Oh, Wendy! Oh, Wendy” was all Molly could seem to say. For her part, Wendy just kept repeating “I’m so sorry” but it seemed to have no effect. Molly just laughed and hugged her harder.

  Finally they pulled apart, oblivious to the bustle and excitement around them, and Molly captured Wendy’s face between her hands, unconsciously mimicking Serena. “You’re home, Wendy. You’re back.”

  “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I…” How to explain?

  “Shhhh.” Molly smiled. “It’s Christmas.” She placed a kiss on Wendy’s forehead, and it felt like a benediction. “One day, if you’re willing, I’d like to know what happened in St. Louis. But if you don’t ever feel like you can tell me, that will be alright too.”

  Oh God. It was like all of her worry over Molly’s reaction just slipped away. Her sister had accepted her back into the fold, without even asking questions. Wendy’s expression must have reflected her amazement, because Molly smiled again. “We love you, Wendy. You’re home now, and that’s all that matters.”

  Wendy’s throat was tight. It was the homecoming she’d hoped for, but hadn’t deserved. “I love you, Molly.”

  “Welcome home, Wendy.” Her sister hugged her again. “Happy Christmas!”

  “Daddy, why is Mommy crying?”

  Wendy saw a little boy—it had to be Noah, although he’d changed so much in three years—tugging on the hand of the largest man she’d ever known. Ash Barker was downright scary-looking to anyone who didn’t know him. His friends and family, though, knew that his imposing bulk hid a gentle soul, and his bushy beard hid his lightning-fast smiles. She crossed to him, and he held out his arms for a hug, and she reveled in the way he almost crushed her. “Welcome back, Wendy. Good to have you home.” His deep rumble enveloped her as much as the hug, and she smiled.

  Pulling away, he tousled the brown curls of the boy beside him. “Noah, say hello to your Aunt Wendy.”

  She squatted in front of him, and smiled. “Hi Noah. You’re much bigger than the last time I saw you.”

  “’Lo Aunt Wendy.” His mumble was adorable. He was obviously shyer than his older brother.

  “Noah, I heard that you have a little sister. I’ve never met her.” Good Heavens, how had she never met her only niece? “Could you introduce me to her?”

  “Yep.” Nodding matter-of-factly, Noah turned in a full circle, and then pointed. “Uncle Sebastian’s got her. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Little Rose was almost two now, and the most beautiful bundle of wiggly energy Wendy could imagine. She spent a few heart-breakingly beautiful minutes playing with Rose and Noah, before their older brother reminded him that presents awaited them under the tree. Rose toddled after Noah, and Jacob squirmed his way out of his mother’s hold to follow as well. Wendy rose to her feet, trying to keep the happy tears from falling.

  Someone took her hand, and she glanced over to see Serena beside her. “They’re lovely children, aren’t they?”

  Wendy squeezed her friend’s hand, glad for her support. “I might be biased, but I think they’re the most wonderful children in the world. I’ve met quite a few, you know.”

  Serena’s laugh was a perfect little tinkle of bells. “I know. Me too. They’re still some of my favorites.”

  “Thank you for having me here, Serena.”

  “Thank you for coming home, dear Wendy. More than anything in the world, I want you to experience the peace and hope that I’ve found. I found my place, here beside Sebastian, and I want you to find that.”

  “You found love.” Wendy took a deep breath. “I’d like that.” She glanced around the room, taking in her sisters signing to each other, Ash speaking to Sebastian and Tess showing off May’s new-found standing ability to the Selkirk aunts and Ian. They were all here, all ready to celebrate Christmas. But there was one face that was missing.

  “He’s not here.” Wendy glanced back at Serena, who continued, “Nate’s not here. I found a note this morning in the parlor that said he would be back after breakfast.”

  Exhaling, Wendy forced herself to loosen her grip on Serena’s hand. She plastered a smile on her face, and said as brightly as she could manage, “Oh good. We’d better eat then, so he’ll get here faster.”

  Her friend laughed, and then embraced her, and Wendy took peace in being able to hug her back. “Happy Christmas, dear friend.”

  “Happy Christmas, Serena.”

  Breakfast was a raucous, joyful affair, with so many people present. The children could barely keep still, and Cam and Molly seemed to take particular pleasure in teasing them about their waiting presents. Noah looked like he would burst from trying so hard to contain his excitement. There were many toasts and speeches by the adults, mainly as a way to prolong the little ones’ torments, before Sebastian took pity on them and suggested they all adjourn to the parlor. Noah and Jacob almost knocked Agnes over in their rush to get there first.

  Wendy was one of the stragglers, and almost missed the present-opening. The boys and Rose tore through their gifts so quickly, they might as well been racing. And little Mae wasn’t to be outdone; she happily plopped herself down in the middle of things and tried to eat one of her brother’s new shoes. All of the adults made themselves comfortable around the parlor, laughing and calling suggestions to the children about how to use their new toys and treats.

  After a half-hour or so, Brixley and Sarah came in with mugs of hot cocoa, and were urged to stay to celebrate with them. Serena pulled the decorations off of the upright piano, Sebastian got out his violin, and the couple led their guests in carols. Cam and Ian kept changing the lyrics to keep them all laughing, and at one point, Ash swept Molly up in a quick polka to Good King Wenceslas.

  Wendy had to admit that it was probably the most cheerful Christmas morning she could remember, even considering that first one with the Barkers. There was so much happiness and goodwill here, among these people. But she couldn’t quite share their joy, because Nate wasn’t there. Was he coming back? Had he thought about what she’d said last night, and decided that her past was too much? Had he realized that she wasn’t worth loving?

  As if her thoughts had conjured him, Nate stepped through the parlor door. He must have just removed his hat and duster, because there was snow on his boots and his hair was messy. Usually it was too long to be messy, and she missed that.

  He’d cut his hair off to fit into her world, but hadn’t realized that her world was here.

  Sebastian started another carol, but was hushed by his wife. Wendy couldn’t seem to make herself look away from Nate, but she could feel everyone’s eyes on them. She took a step towards him, and then another, and they met halfway across the room, under the small chandelier.

  “Hi Nate.”

  “Hi Wendy.”

  “Last night—” She wasn’t sure what she had been planning on saying to him, so it was just as well that he reached one hand behind her head then, and pulled her into one of his toe-curling, earth-shattering kisses. It was hard, and hot, and utterly delightful. Merry Christmas, indeed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on for dear life.

  Wendy vaguely heard her sisters’ cheering, and someone’s whistle, and Cam’s “Finally!” But she felt Nate grin against her lips, and she smiled in return. He placed another few kisses on the corner on her mouth, and then looked up.

  She followed his gaze to the bunch of mistletoe dangling from the chandelier, and then met those twinkling green eyes. “I guess I owe Sebastian thanks for his mistletoe propagation.”

  “Yeah,” he drawled in that slow, sexy way of his.

  “I love you, Nate Barker.”


  “Good, because I love you. I know that you think things would change after what you told me, but they didn’t.” He stepped back, and ran one hand through his hair, messing it further. She resisted the urge to smooth it for him. “Wendy, life isn’t like some romance novel. If this was a book, and this was the climax, I’d come swooping in here on a white horse with a bunch of roses or something. But it’s not, and this isn’t the climax. This isn’t the end of our story. This is the beginning of forever, Wendy.”

  Her hands rose, unbidden, to her mouth to try to contain the sob that threatened. This was positively the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her. He was right. Nate was her real-life Hero.

  And then, there, in front of everyone, he dropped to one knee in front of her. “None of my horses are white, Wendy, and I couldn’t find any roses in the middle of a Cheyenne Christmas.” Oh God, what was happening? He’d reached into his pocket and opened his fist to reveal a small gold ring. “This is the best I can do, Wendy. Here, in front of our family and friends, I’m asking you to marry me. Make me complete.”

  Her legs refused to support her. She dropped to her knees, and he grabbed her arms. “Wendy? Are you okay?”

  With hesitant fingers she touched the fist that she knew contained that little band of gold, and he opened his fingers. It gleamed like the Christmas tree. It gleamed like the promise of the future, like forgiveness and hope and love all rolled into one. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from stroking it.

  He dropped to his haunches, joining her on the floor. “Sweetheart? Please say something.”

  “You… you want to marry me? Still?” She hadn’t planned on sounding so pitiful, so awe-struck, but that’s how it came out.

  “Love, I want nothing more in this life. You’re all I want for Christmas.” He lifted the gold band between a thumb and forefinger. “Please don’t say no.”

  She reached for it then, and it seemed that he held his breath while she slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly, like a dream. Or a novel, where the Hero always knew exactly what to do and say. She lifted her eyes to his, and saw the love there. This man, this wonderful, noble man, knew all of her secrets, her sins… and loved her in spite of them. He was her Hero.

  “I’ll marry you, Nate. I’ve loved you for longer than I knew what love was. You’ve been my other half since the Christmas I met you. Without you, I was miserable. You complete me.”

  He gripped her left hand, the one with the ring on it. “This is forever, Wendy. You might be here just for a visit, but if you think you’re going back to St. Louis without me, you’re—”

  “No.” She swallowed. “You brought me home, where I belong. Where we both belong.”

  She heard her sister’s “Oh thank goodness” just before Nate pulled her into another kiss, a joyful kiss. And she kissed him back, with all of the longing and wishes she’d felt for years.

  When they pulled apart, their friends and family were cheering, and suddenly, Wendy felt like the Heroine in a book. Everything had worked out, magically, perfectly. She was going to marry the Hero. She was going to marry Nate, the man she loved.

  It was a Christmas miracle.

  Resting his forehead against hers, Nate whispered, “This is real life, Wendy. Not a novel. We’ve both been looking for—working towards—this moment, but this isn’t our ending. We’ve got years of challenges and joys ahead of us. Life isn’t always going to be easy, sweetheart, but it’ll be worth it, if we’ve got each other.”

  She swallowed, and said the only thing she could say through the lump in her throat. “I love you.”

  He held up her hand and looked at the ring. She had to admit that it looked nice against her skin. “I know this sort of thing only happens in books, but…”

  She knew what he meant. She smiled. “Happily Ever After, Nate?”

  “Happily Ever After.”

  EPILOGUE

  June, 1884

  Molly sat on the front porch, enjoying a rare moment of not having anything to do. Ash always dragged her rocker out here in the spring, so that she could sit and enjoy the gorgeous view as she sewed, or peeled potatoes, or braided Rose’s hair, or any of the million other small chores she could do sitting down.

  It was moments like that, when she was hard at work, and looked up to see the sun glinting off the distant mountains, or heard her husband’s strong voice calling to his horses, that she realized how lucky she’d been. Who would have guessed that a desperate journey here in ’75 would have resulted in such peace? They’d had their share of hardships, but she and Ash were happy, and were raising three beautiful children.

  She was watching those children now. The boys had stripped to the waist—although the Lord knew that Noah didn’t need any excuse to take his clothes off—and were wrestling in the grass in front of the house. Rose, who refused to be separated from her brothers, even when their games didn’t interest her, was sitting in the dirt nearby, making mud pies with a bucket of water from the well. Molly smiled at her daughter’s intensity, wondering if she’d ever been so engrossed in dirt when she’d been that age.

  A shout of laughter drew her attention to the large corral, where Ash, Nate and Annie were working with the new colts. Her husband lounged against the rail, his shirt unbuttoned in the heat, laughing while his brother and Annie—who were in charge of the breeding program and the colts, respectively—chased a particularly stubborn little filly around the enclosure. Molly knew that with the new contract for Mr. Green in St. Louis—they’d already sent the first batch of racers to St. Louis—the two of them were working hard to make sure the young horses were ready to be trained.

  It was ingenious, the way the two of them communicated with each other and the horses through a series of signs and short, spoken phrases. Annie had taken to wearing jeans when she worked with the horses and was speaking better than ever now. She had started to spend less time in Cheyenne at the school. Serena had offered to sponsor the girl—young lady, Wendy corrected herself—in her entrance into society, and Molly had left the decision up to her sister. While this denim-clad, dirt-smeared imp might not exactly fit into Serena’s world, Molly didn’t want Annie to have to choose between them. Surely there was a way for Annie to continue to work with the horses and receive the benefits Cheyenne civilization offered.

  “It still amazes me that Annie can speak.” Molly had been so intent on her youngest sister that she’d missed Wendy’s arrival. “Sebastian is a wonderful teacher.”

  “Almost as good as you,” Molly teased her sister.

  The younger woman smiled slightly as she crossed the porch to stand beside Molly, watching the antics in the corral. She’d come from the direction of Nate’s smaller house. Wendy spent most of her time there, writing, but the newlyweds still joined them for most meals. Wendy, for all of her love of neatness and order, couldn’t cook worth a fig.

  In the six months she’d been home, she’d written two more books to send to her publisher, and all the money she’d made she’d poured back into the ranch’s funds. When Ash had protested, Wendy was matter-of-fact: “It’s only fair. If you’re going to support me while I follow my dream, the least I can do is pay for my own keep.” Molly didn’t mind cooking for one more person, and it was nice to have extra cash on hand.

  She was probably the only one not surprised by Wendy’s big announcement, when it was revealed that she’d become a successful author in St. Louis. Of course, Molly wasn’t that big of a reader, but she’d borrowed a few of Nate’s copies and tried Wendy’s books, and had to admit that they were fun to read. Serena, on the other hand, had nearly fainted from the shock. Molly smiled to remember the younger woman’s reaction: “You? These books Nate keeps lending me are yours? You wrote them?” It was like she hadn’t believed Wendy the first three times she’d said ‘yes’. She made up for her doubting her best friend by buying multiple copies of every single book by “W. Jones” for the Cheyenne Library.

  Molly had been so busy reminiscing that
she missed Wendy’s departure. Her sister lifted her skirts—she was dressing more simply now that she lived on the ranch again, no more bustles—and skipped down the steps. Crossing the yard, she called out something to Pete that Molly couldn’t hear, and continued towards the corral. Seeing her coming, Ash straightened and started ambling back towards the porch.

  Molly’s husband reached the porch and sat down on the top step, close enough that she could touch his sweat-plastered hair when he removed his hat. He groaned theatrically and leaned into her touch, but she chuckled and moved her skirts out of the way. “Not until you bathe, mister!” and she saw him grin. She loved him year-round, but she especially liked when he shaved off his beard in the summer, and she could see that handsome dimple in his chin.

  Together, they watched Nate sign something to Annie, and then join his wife at the rail to the corral. From here, Molly could see the love and happiness in the younger man’s face, as he lifted Wendy’s hand and kissed her palm. Wendy wrapped her fingers through his and climbed up on the fence beside him. They made a handsome pair, and Molly wondered what they were talking about.

  “He sure seems content, huh?”

  “I was just thinking that. He changed so much while she was gone.” This carefree brother-in-law of hers had grown into a brooding and bitter man after Wendy went to St. Louis. She watched him start doubting himself, and become angry and defensive. Now that Wendy was his wife, they all saw more of the boy he’d once been; laughing, teasing, and content with who he was. Of course, he rarely went into Cheyenne these days; aside from the trip in February where they’d all gathered at Serena’s house again for the wedding, he’d only gone back a few times. He was happy here. In love.

  “Well.” Ash lifted one dirty hand towards her, and Molly took it immediately. “Things change.”