A Holiday To Remember

by Nancy Pirri

  Annie came around the table and took his hand. “He does seem rather out of sorts. I’m surprised that you throwing back his fish set him off like that. Father’s done the same thing several times. I’m thinking it’s something else that’s really upset him. Did you tell him we were getting married?”

  “I did, but that’s all.” Cane frowned. “It didn’t seem to really bother him, though he thought the best idea was for all of us to live here together.”

  “How did you reply to him?”

  “I told him we’ll be living here temporarily, until we build our own house. I explained how he could visit between the two houses.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to keep his parentage a secret.”

  “I can imagine,” she murmured. “Thanks for not telling him yet. Spend as much time as you can with him over the next few weeks and then we can tell him.” She squeezed his hand.

  Winding an arm around her waist, he murmured into her hair, “I want to tell him soon. And I want us to get married soon—real soon.”

  She tried pulling out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Cane!” she said frantically, “Mark and Father will be here any minute.”

  “Set the date and I’ll release you, sweetheart.”

  She nodded. “How about right before Christmas? That would give me time to make plans.”

  She heard Mark’s running steps heading for the kitchen, and she pressed her hands against Cane’s chest.

  He let her go. “I guess I can wait that long. You know, of course, we’ll have to live here until spring. With winter setting in, that’s the soonest we can build a house.”

  “I know. It’ll be harder for you than me, I’m afraid. This is the only home I’ve known.”

  “You and your father have been nothing but hospitable. It won’t be a hardship living here until we build our house. You let me know what you’d like for our house—anything you want,” he promised.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Cane prayed the next several weeks would pass quicker than a train at full speed.

  * * * *

  November arrived, and Bozeman and its inhabitants began preparing for Christmas, Cane noticed. Bozeman had also had its first snowfall a week ago, but most of it had melted since temperatures had climbed to spring-like temperatures. The warmer weather encouraged the men in town to get the decorations up before the next cold spell, which would set in and last for several months.

  Though Annie was in the midst of planning their wedding, she’d roped Cane into helping the marshal and others decorate the town. It had started snowing just as James and Cane finished their work. They headed inside The Sapphire Palace, welcoming a hot cup of coffee. Cane came to a dead stop when he saw Annie sitting in a chair, rocking the new Freeman addition. Luke James Freeman, born a week ago at a healthy nine pounds, was sobbing pitifully.

  Cane saw Annie duck her head and hold the baby close, but he didn’t stop fussing. She stopped rocking and jiggled the baby until the baby’s father arrived.

  “Thanks, Annie.” James took his son in his arms. “I’ll go fetch Kate. It appears Luke needs a bedtime snack.”

  He left, and Cane took his place beside Annie. “You ready to go home soon? By the way, where’s Mark?”

  “I’m ready, and Mark’s at home with Father, helping pick out the Christmas tree—the biggest ever, he wants.”

  “Let’s go home and see how he’s doing.” He took her arm.

  Some men came stomping in then, and he turned to find Jed Porter and several of his hands. Porter sneered at Cane. It took all of Cane’s fortitude to keep his hands from forming into fists and plastering the bastard’s face. Again. Porter had been gossiping worse than any old woman in town about Annie lately. Cane had heard, from James, that Porter had accused Annie of being a witch. His hands formed into fists, and he took a step toward Porter but stopped when a hand grabbed his arm. Looking down, he saw Annie’s worried expression.

  She whispered, “He’s nothing but a pest. He’s just mad I accepted your proposal, not his.”

  Kate and James returned their daughter Melanie with them, the baby in Kate’s arms.

  “Thanks so much for your help, Annie,” Kate said.

  “Yes, thank you,” James said, holding onto Melanie. “Both of you.”

  “Any time,” Cane murmured, settling Annie’s arm through his.

  Anne smiled. “You’re welcome. See you all later.”

  As they made their way out of town, Annie kissed his cheek. Cane looked back and saw Jed Porter standing outside The Palace scowling, his face beet red. Cane turned back to Annie with a satisfied expression.

  Cane hoped the bastard would choke on his regret.

  Chapter Six

  December, 1888

  One week before Cane and Annie’s December wedding, Montana was struck by a snowstorm. Ten inches of snow fell across the territory, blowing and drifting in the howling winds, closing down all businesses in town.

  Tom Callahan had purchased several hundred head of Texas Longhorns from the abundance driven by cowboys from Texas to Montana that fall. Tom and Cane had set out mid-morning to call in the ranch hands and gather up as many of the herds as they could, hoping to save them from the blizzard.

  Now Annie stood at the library windows, listening to the howling wind, watching the swirling snow. A horse appeared, then another, and she breathed a sigh of relief. More horses, stumbling along, fighting against the howling winds and driving snow, came into sight. Thank heavens they’d arrived home before dark.

  “Mark! They’re back!” she called.

  “Yippee!” Mark shouted as he met up with her in the hallway. She followed Mark to the door. Mark yanked open the door and stepped back as a snow-covered mountain of a man plodded through the entrance.

  “Cane?” Annie said, barely able to make out his features. He was covered in snow, ice pellets were frozen on his Stetson, his moustache and the shadowy beard on his face. Her father stood beside Cane, looking years older than before he’d left the house. She’d insisted they wear long woolen scarves over their heads before putting on their hats. All she could think was how the scarves probably helped in saving them from freezing to death.

  Shocked, Annie nevertheless took charge, grabbing both men’s arms to guide them into the library. Her father sank to the divan and closed his eyes. “No. Stay awake, Father,” Annie ordered. When he didn’t respond but kept his eyes shut, she snapped, “Wake up!” She slapped him hard on one cheek, and he opened his eyes.

  Glaring at her, he muttered, “What in the hell are you trying to do to, woman? Kill me?”

  None too gently, Annie pulled at his coat with Cane’s assistance. “I won’t have to kill you. You’ll be doing it to yourself if you don’t keep your eyes open. We need to get you warm before you can even think about sleeping.”

  Annie looked at Cane, who looked just as cold and tired. “Cane, let me help you undress.” At his wolfish grin, she added, “Your coat only, you devil.”

  She eased his arms out of his coat sleeves. The woolen coat was soaking wet and stuck to his body. Annie peeled it from him until he stood in his damp shirt and soaking dungarees.

  He sighed. “Need a hot bath, but first one for your father. I’ll just sit by the fire once we take care of the ranch hands.”

  “Didn’t they head on home?” Annie asked.

  Cane shook his head. “Most of them live at The Palace. The weather’s too bad to go to town now. They took up our offer to stay here in the barn.”

  “But we’ve no heat out there!” Annie protested. “How many came?”

  Bundled in her winter-wear, Annie went to the barn with Cane. “Come inside the house, everyone,” she called.

  Hours later, after the last hand and her father had settled down for the night, Annie fell into a chair before the fire in the library. She and Cane sat and drank hot rum until they were sleepy-eyed. Cane stood up and swept his hair back f
rom his forehead.

  Annie stirred and sat up straight in her chair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.”

  He ambled over to where she sat and sank down on his haunches. She stilled when he reached up, took her face between his hands and kissed her. He murmured then against her lips, “You’re exhausted. It’s past our bedtime.”

  When he went to release her face, she clamped her hands over his. “I gave up both of our rooms tonight to others. This room is the only vacant one in the house. I want you to stay with me here for the night.”

  Cane groaned and closed his eyes. “You know we shouldn’t. Not until we’re married,” he insisted.

  She choked on her words. “I almost lost you and my father. What if something were to happen to one of us during the night? Then I’d never know how it feels to be well loved by you. Never know how it feels to make love with you.” Annie swiped a tear from her eye. “If something happened and I lost you, I’d never marry, Cane. There’s no one else I want.”

  Frowning, he sank back on his heels. She leaned toward him, hands stretched out. He grasped them and said, “Have you had another premonition? Didn’t I tell you to let me know if you did so we can solve—”

  “No. No premonitions, Cane. I just don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Damn, neither do I,” he said, pulling her to her feet. He locked the door. Then, taking her in his arms, he kissed her, even as he undressed her hurriedly. She eagerly waited for him to take her again in his arms, but he didn’t. He just looked at her standing before him, clad only in her bloomers, chemise and stockings. She saw the raw desire on his face as he gazed upon her. He reached out and untied the ribbons on her chemise.

  Cane’s flaring nostrils and the hot-eyed look made her shiver. He moved slowly, increasing her anticipation.

  My God! Make love to me!

  As if he could read her mind, he picked her up in his arms and laid her down on the divan. He positioned her with her head on one of the arms. He removed her chemise and her bloomers, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered with reverence.

  He splayed her legs apart until the sole of one of her feet was on the floor while the other remained bent on the divan seat. Then, standing there, he simply looked at her in pure passion.

  Suddenly, she had misgivings and opened her mouth to stop him, but Cane leaned down and took her lips. She felt him beside her then. He was on his knees, at her side.

  “I never did thank you for accepting my proposal, Annie.” He looked up and she saw the love in his eyes. “But I’m thanking you now. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a chance to get you a ring yet, but...”

  “It doesn’t matter, Cane. It doesn’t. Now make love to me.”

  Annie lay there on the divan like a wanton as she watched Cane undress. Her eyes settled on every part of him, unable to believe his masculine splendor, for he indeed was more beautiful than any man should ever be.

  Swiftly, he settled down upon her. He kissed her in places she never dreamed possible, carrying and culminating her arousal to unbearable heights, and she burned for more.

  Finally, she begged, “Now, Cane, please! End this torment.”

  Smoothly, he eased inside her. She felt only a momentary pain before she raised her legs and wound them around his waist, urging him deeper.

  Cane gasped. “Oh, sweet Annie, you are something. It’s been so long,” he groaned. “I want this to be good for you, but I don’t know if I can hold out for long.”

  “Take your pleasure, Cane,” she whispered with a smile.

  He did, but not before giving her pleasure. He made love to her, and she soared to the heavens and back with him. Afterwards, all she could think was how she’d die if she lost him. She wouldn’t want to continue living without him. They dressed after making love.

  Later, Cane wakened to the smell of fire. Then he remembered. They were in the library, door locked. The fire in the fireplace must still be burning low, he decided, closing his eyes again, reveling in the warmth of pretty Annie asleep in his arms.

  The smell of fire grew stronger, more pungent, and Cane coughed. His eyes shot open then, closing just as quickly as he’d opened them. He rolled off the divan, eyes burning at the smoke filling the library. He coughed again and stumbled to the door. He touched the brass knob and yanked his hand away. “Shit!” It was hotter than a branding iron.

  “Annie? Annie!” Cane shook her shoulder, but she hardly stirred. He checked the pulse in her neck.

  Still breathing, thank God!

  Shouting to alert the others in the house, he picked Annie up in his arms. He wrapped two woolen blankets around her but laid her back down on the divan again.

  Grabbing a poker, he smashed a window until every jagged edge of glass was gone. Returning to Annie, he picked her up, climbed through the window, thankful they had been sleeping on the first floor. Just as he’d maneuvered them outside, something hit him on the head.

  * * * *

  Annie gasped in the fresh air, her body shivering where she lay on the snow. She sat up, sobbing when she discovered Cane beside her. “Cane? Wake up, Cane!”

  As she crouched over him trying to rouse him, she saw color in her side vision. Looking in that direction, she saw a man’s boot just as it disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Blood seeped from a cut on the top of Cane’s head and one across his forehead. Looking skyward, she saw the house engulfed in flames. She picked up a large piece of wood and knew it was the piece that had felled Cane.

  “Annie!”

  “Father! Over here, outside the library window! Is Mark with you?”

  Her father appeared from the back of the house, his face frantic. “No! I thought he was with you!”

  “We’ve got to find him!” Clutching the blankets wrapped around her, she rose and started to run but her father hauled her back, keeping his grip on her.

  “You can’t go inside. The house is too far gone.”

  “But Mark! He has to be upstairs.”

  “I glanced in his room and most of the others before we left the house, and I didn’t see him. I called to him, too, and there was no answer. I thought he was with you, or one of the hands took him out. Where else would he have gone?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to look for him.”

  “Not inside,” her father said. “He’s got to be outside somewhere.”

  Harvey, one of their hands appeared. “Come into the barn,” he shouted. Glancing at Cane, he said, “I’ll get Paul to help me get him inside.”

  “We’ve another priority. Mark’s missing. I want all hands out searching for him,” her father said.

  Annie stood in the cold, shivering, tears falling down her cheeks and freezing upon them.

  Harvey said. “Come on, Miss Annie. We’ll find the boy.”

  Two more hands arrived and carried Cane into the barn. Annie followed, searching for Mark along the way. The snow had stopped, but the temperature had fallen and the wind still blew. As she pulled the blankets tighter around her, she saw movement behind the barn.

  As she rounded the barn, she saw a big man, head uncovered, blonde hair blowing as he mounted his horse.

  “Hee-yah!” he shouted and spurred his horse into a gallop.

  Chills tore through Annie as she put a name to the man, though she hadn’t seen his face clearly. Jed Porter! Something lay in the snow, metal-colored, and she slowly approached it. She peered closely and saw a can of some sort, then reared back at the smell of kerosene. Dear God, Jed had set the fire.

  Annie ran around to the front of the barn, looked up at the house, the porch below, and saw a figure at Mark’s window. “Mark!” she yelled.

  “Annie! Help me!” Mark mouthed.

  Scampering as quickly as she could through the snow, her feet near frozen, she heard a roar. Looking up once more, she cried, “No!” as glass rained down from several windows in the house

  Annie
ran to the front door and opened it. She choked on the smoke that billowed outside. Pulling the wool blanket from her shoulders, she wrapped a tail of it around her head and another across her mouth, keeping her eyes uncovered. Racing around the back, she remembered the old set of stairs, once used by servants in the household. The same stairs she’d scolded Mark for using. No one used them anymore due to their wretched condition. Praying the fire hadn’t caught there yet, she rushed to the kitchen. She yanked at the old door’s handle until it opened on the third try. Looking up the rickety old stairs, she was glad to see just a fine mist of smoke.

  Annie called up the stairs, “Mark! Head to the old staircase, down by Pa’s room.”

  She heard him sobbing out her name.

  When he didn’t appear, she shouted again, “Mark! I’m in the kitchen!” She kept calling him until she heard his footsteps overhead drawing near.

  He appeared at the top of stairs, then clattered down them, coughing and sobbing at the same time. He flung himself into her arms. “I was afraid, Annie, so I hid in my closet.”

  “I know. I’m glad you followed my voice. Come on, we have to get out of here.”

  They reached the kitchen when an explosion rent the air. Annie screamed as chunks of the roof started falling on them. Dense smoke poured into the kitchen. Pulling Mark with her, she ran to the kitchen door just as a flash of fire ignited the wallpaper, then flamed around the door, blocking their exit. She groaned, seeing the only escape route was the window high above the stove. Both of them were too short to reach the window, even standing on the stove, but she might be able to hoist Mark onto her shoulders and ease him through it. The danger of the fall he’d be taking to the ground outside made her look for other options.

  In the living room, she saw nothing but flames. A hissing sound over her shoulder prompted her to look back in time to see the parlor curtains burn up faster than dried tinder. Then she remembered the kitchen pantry. It might offer them protection if they couldn’t get outside—until someone found them. Or it would be their final resting place. If nothing else, at least she could give Mark some peace in his final minutes.