Where They Belong: A Sweet Cheyenne Christmas Story (The Sweet Cheyenne Quartet Book 5)

by Caroline Lee

  But there was no way she was going to make a grand entrance, not in front of all these glittering, gorgeous women. So she’d snuck down the back stairs, surprising the housekeeper, and was now plastered to the wall of the ballroom, wondering how long she had to stay before she could escape back to her room.

  But the longer she stood there, without being pointed at, the easier it was for her shoulders to relax. It really was a beautiful ball; she couldn’t help but be entranced by the chandelier with the hundred candles. The smell of hot wax mixed with the pine and cinnamon that Mrs. Carderock had instructed her to sprinkle throughout. Annie smiled slightly, knowing that her contributions to the ball had been useful.

  In fact, things were looking up—she even managed a little wave when Victoria swept by in her husband Howard’s arms—and Annie thought she might be able to stay here happily all night, just appreciating the women’s glittering dresses. But it was too good to last; as the Singleton sisters approached, Annie realized that she was going to have to socialize, whether she liked it or not.

  They took up position right beside her, and continued whatever conversation they’d been carrying on earlier. The twins had a habit of speaking behind their hands or fans, probably so that no one could understand what they were gossiping about… or in order to make Annie feel even more awkwardly out-of-place. She had no idea what they were saying, although they occasionally shot her knowing looks, as if expecting her to join in. It was frustrating, to not even know if they were including her in the conversation, or just happened to be standing next to her.

  She was saved—although “saved” might’ve been too strong a word—by Reggie’s appearance. Trying not to notice how the Singleton sisters both straightened and nudged one another while giggling, Annie actually took a step backward. Perhaps he was coming over to speak to them; they were both blonde and lovely and quite eligible, from what his mother had told her.

  But no; he stopped right in front of her and gave a little bow. He was stunning in his evening black, but his one unruly lock of hair had fallen from his pomade as usual, and his wry grin revealed the crooked gap in his teeth. She saw the twins’ sighs, and mimicked them. He was just so… so touchable.

  Her hands fisted in her skirts, to keep from reaching for him.

  “Miss Murray, Miss Singleton, Miss Singleton.” He nodded at each twin. “You look lovely.” When he turned back to her, his dark eyes sparkled like Sebastian’s when he looked at his wife. Annie wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Exceptionally lovely.”

  Perhaps she’d misunderstood him. She glanced at the ladies beside her, to see one disappointed expression, and one lovely pout. It seemed like Annie hadn’t been mistaken—Dr. Reggie Carderock had flirted with her, and in front of two gorgeously eligible ladies.

  He’d said something else that caused a deeper frown on one of the twins’ faces, but she hadn’t seen him speak. As she was turning back to ask him to repeat himself, he startled her by taking her hand. He just reached out and grabbed it, and Annie made a little noise of surprise.

  But he just smiled wider. “Miss Murray, will you dance with me?”

  She didn’t have a chance to say no. Would she have said it, anyhow? She might’ve tried, but he was pulling her out into the middle of the dancers, and Annie couldn’t embarrass him by pulling away. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to, even after the way their last dance had torn her heart in half.

  There, under the grand chandelier, he presented himself to her, reaching around to the small of her back and taking her tiny hand in his. Even through both of their evening gloves, she felt his warmth, and felt… safe. Hesitating only slightly, she lifted her other hand to his shoulders, and then they were moving.

  He swept her around the dancefloor, among the other couples, and Annie felt like a princess. His one strong finger kept a beat against her waist, and she was sure that she was just as graceful as any of the women who could hear the music coming from the small string quartet in the corner. In fact, she felt just as pretty as them, just as worthy as them, for the first time since coming to New York.

  She owed that feeling to the man twirling her around his parents’ ballroom, the man who held her tightly enough that she could pretend he wasn’t going to let her go. The man who had fruitlessly made every effort to help her fit in with his society. The man who left her feeling a jumbled mass of confusion, trying to understand his heated looks and his warnings.

  How could he make her feel so warm, so safe, so perfect, when she knew that she wasn’t?

  Annie took a deep breath, and was shocked when her chest brushed against his. Even through so many layers of fabric, she could feel her nipples harden, although it was hard to say if that was in response to the accidental touch, or the way his eyes seemed to fog from the contact. Annie bit her bottom lip, and was surprised to see him close his eyes. She felt his groan through his chest, and figured that was about the most sensual thing she’d ever experienced.

  Her first dance, and it couldn’t be any more wonderful. She wanted to write to Wendy, to tell her all about the colors and the scents and how he held her close enough to see the pulse beating in the base of his neck. She wanted the dance to last forever, feeling his strong hands cradling her and his steady beat against her skin. She wanted to never let him go.

  But apparently the musicians needed to breathe or switch music or something—dratted men!—because Reggie pulled her to a halt with the other couples. It took her a moment to realize that her feet were still on the ground; she was still wonderfully dizzy, and smiled up at him stupidly. That was okay, though, because he was smiling right back at her, and she didn’t feel at all self-conscious, which really was a miracle.

  His hand was still clasped around hers, so she followed willingly when he moved towards the open windows along the back of the room. When they reached a little alcove formed by a small Christmas fir and the window nook, he pulled her around to face him.

  The best part was that he didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to look away from his sparkling dark eyes to stare at his lips—not that she minded watching them, though—and force herself to concentrate on his words. Instead, he just stood there, staring down at her, speaking volumes with his eyes. Annie sighed, wondering at the way her skin prickled and her breath seemed to be harder to catch.

  She felt just like one of the heroines in Wendy’s books; a perfect evening with a perfect gentleman whom she loved dearly.

  …loved dearly? Annie stopped breathing altogether. Loved? Beautiful, flawless heroines in romance novels fell in love with handsome, flawless heroes. She wasn’t flawless, but Reggie was wonderfully imperfect, with his crooked teeth and his lock of hair that never stayed slicked back and his insistence on bucking his family’s society to go his own way. It was what she loved about him.

  Good Lord, she did love him. He didn’t think that she was perfect enough for his society, but he swept her around in a waltz that was fit for a princess, in front of them. He cared about the part of her that she had to give up to fit in here.

  Oh yes, she loved him.

  He squeezed her hands, and her gaze dropped to his lips. “Annie? You went all white there. Are you feeling all right?”

  He really did care. She shivered, wondering what this realization meant. She needed a moment away from his amazing eyes to think this over, and to learn to breathe again.

  Reggie must have noticed her shiver, because the next thing she knew, he’d removed his dinner jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She wasn’t really cold, but it felt too right to remove. So she forced a smile. “I am a little thirsty.”

  When he raised a brow, Annie knew that she hadn’t quite mastered the nonchalance she was going for. But he smiled anyway, and said “I will be right back,” and then disappeared—coatless!—into the crowd around the refreshments table.

  She breathed a little sigh of relief, and shrunk back further into the shadows around the window, trying to make sense of her mind. She’d gon
e and fallen in love with him somewhere. Had it been when he’d danced with her, alone in the parlor, without music? Or before then, at Maria’s house, when he’d showed her that he valued her? Or even earlier, when he’d visited his brother in Cheyenne, and she’d seen him as a more approachable version of the mentor she already half-worshipped?

  Annie squeezed her eyes shut, but the memory of Serena’s nagging kept her from pinching the bridge of her nose between her gloved fingers. Only the Lord knew when she’d fallen in love with Reggie, but she could fall right back out of love, as far as she was concerned. Having feelings for him was a surefire way to pain, that was for certain. He was a successful doctor from a wealthy family, living in a fancy house—she glanced up at the incredible chandelier—in an overwhelmingly complex city. She was a deaf girl who trained horses. There was no future for them.

  That realization didn’t stop her from pulling his coat tighter around her shoulders, inhaling his clean sandalwood scent, and wondering what the rest of the Carderocks’ guests would say if they saw her huddled in the corner wearing his clothing. What did they whisper about when they saw him spinning her around the dancefloor? Did they praise him for the way he took the time to dance with her, to make sure that she enjoyed her first ball? Or did they turn their noses up at the thought of someone like her dancing with one of their own?

  Annie sighed, and wrapped her arms around her stomach. When she felt the crunch of paper in one of the coat’s pockets, she pulled it out, more from the desire to distract herself than any real curiosity.

  But by the time the crumpled telegraph floated to the floor, where it rested on top of the discarded coat, she was halfway across the room and headed for the stairs.

  She was going home.

  CHAPTER NINE

  You’re a Carderock, son. It’s time you starting acting like it.

  His father’s advice echoed in Reggie’s ears as he urged the carriage faster through New York’s icy streets. Less than an hour ago he’d left Annie’s side to fetch her some of Mother’s punch, and returned to find her gone, the crumpled telegraph his only clue to her sudden absence. He re-donned his jacket, wasted precious minutes looking for her amid the partygoers, before realizing that she’d never linger among the people who didn’t understand her.

  He was the only one here in New York who really understood her.

  Ignoring the guests celebrating the Christmas cheer in the foyer, he bounded up the curving main staircase, hoping against hope that she’d just retired to her room.

  She hadn’t. His heart beating in tempo to the waltz downstairs, Reggie searched the guestroom she’d been given, dreading what he wouldn’t find. Sure enough, her small valise was missing, and there was nothing of hers on top of the bureau. He didn’t know what clothing she’d brought with her, but it seemed obvious that their young houseguest had swept up everything personal she’d brought to New York, and fled.

  She was gone. His palms itched under the stupid evening gloves—the gloves that had prevented him from really touching her during their dance—and a bead of sweat trickled down his side. She was gone.

  That’s when he’d searched out his father, not so much to ask for advice, but to let him know that Annie was gone. He was sure she’d read the ill-advised telegraph from Sebastian, and was on her way back to Cheyenne. It wasn’t until he’d told his father, though, that he knew what he was going to do.

  “You’re not going to let her go, are you?”

  “I’m following her.” He caught the eye of Bertie’s butler, and gestured the man over. “Please have Mrs. Smalls pack me a valise immediately, and tell her to pack up the rest of Miss Murray’s things to be shipped.”

  When the servant bowed slightly and left, Reggie’s father spoke again. “She’s a smart girl—probably halfway to Grand Central by now.”

  Raking a hand through his hair, Reggie puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. “I’m still following her. Even if I never catch up, I’m following her.”

  Sebastian Carderock II smiled then, and its predatory gleam reminded his son why he’d made such a fortune in business. “You’re a Carderock, son.” He clasped both hands on his youngest child’s shoulders. “It’s time you started acting like it.”

  And that’s why Reggie was careening through New York City in the carriage that happened to be sitting outside the Carderock mansion—it belonged to one of his parents’ guests, but in true Carderock fashion, he’d taken it and damned the consequences—fully confident that Annie wouldn’t be able to leave for Cheyenne without him. Mrs. Smalls had brought both his valise and his black medical bag to his father’s study, where Reggie was on the telephone with Grand Central. Using his father’s name and no little amount of bribery, Reggie had convinced the station master to hook up the private Carderock train car—an impressive feat this last-minute—and delay the St. Louis-bound express train for an extra half-hour.

  If Annie was on that train, he’d find her in time. He was a Carderock, and one thing he’d learned surrounded by entitlement and power was that the trick to owning the world was to act like you already did.

  Annie gripped her hands tightly in her lap, and stared at the dark countryside swooshing by outside the window. There was little to see, besides her reflection, but that didn’t stop her. When she shifted, her borrowed cloak parted and the lamplight caught the sequins sewn into the neckline of her gown, throwing shafts of light against the landscape outside. It was an unwelcome reminder of the joy she’d felt only an hour ago, twirling around the room at her first ball.

  She hadn’t even stopped to peel off her gloves before she’d scooped up everything that would fit in her valise—plus a traveling gown—and rushed out the back door for the Carderock carriages. It had been so hard to concentrate through her panic, making sure that the carriage-driver and the ticket-seller at the Depot knew where she wanted to go.

  There had been a terrifying few minutes, as the train was delayed for some unknown reason, and Annie was sure that she’d never be able to get to Wendy in time. But now her panic was calmed by the gentle sway of the passenger car as it hurtled westward out of the city. She was on her way to her sister.

  It wasn’t that she was particularly egotistical; she knew that there was nothing she could do for Wendy that the doctors weren’t doing already. And Serena would’ve made sure that her friend had the best doctors Cheyenne could provide. But Annie knew that she had to be there, to hold Wendy’s hand when the time came. She kept thinking of Maria, and holding her hand, and the tiny, still body that came from her womb, and that’s when she’d have to clench her hands tighter together and bite her lip to keep from crying.

  Wendy and Nate had lost three babies already, early in the pregnancies, and they’d all been so, so joyful to know that this one had lasted. Annie was ecstatic to meet her niece or nephew in the spring, and it was heart-breaking to think that an accident would rob them all of that happiness.

  And to know that Sebastian hadn’t wanted her to find out! It was… it was damned galling, that’s what it was! Annie bit her lip harder, trying to maintain the anger, so that she didn’t focus on the grief. She had four long days ahead of her, sitting here alone in this uncomfortable seat, to wonder what she’d find when she reached Cheyenne. She needed to be strong, and staying angry at Sebastian would achieve that.

  How dare he? He was her mentor, her teacher, the man who’d shaped her into who she was today! She’d given up so much of who she was, inside, in order to be who he said she should be. He’d given her the world… and all she’d had to do was give up herself.

  And now, and now! To discover that he still didn’t think that she was strong enough to handle this disaster? To think that she would shatter? He still didn’t respect her strength and her ability to withstand this grief, and realizing that was…

  Annie breathed deeply. That was disheartening. She’d trusted Sebastian. Trusted him with her future, and then trusted him when he’d convinced her to visit New York City for Christm
as. Trusted him when he’d told her of the opportunities and pleasures that awaited “a girl like her” in his hometown. Now she wondered if he’d ever thought her worthy of them.

  Worthy of his family. Worthy of his brother.

  Oh God she was going to cry again. Annie turned from her reflection and squeezed her eyes shut. It was particularly cruel that she’d had to leave so soon after realizing her feelings for him. Reggie was the only thing New York City had to offer that she’d enjoyed; now that she was leaving, she could admit that to herself. The Carderocks had been kind to her, in their own way, but she wouldn’t miss them or their friends or their grand amusements. She would miss Reggie, though, even if she had no right to do so.

  She’d miss the way he always made sure to speak clearly to her, and the way he didn’t think anything of writing out a conversation with her. She’d miss his crooked smile and his strong hands and the way he was willing to leave a Christmas party to attend to a sick patient and the way he cared.

  She’d miss him, but her place was in Cheyenne with her family, and he belonged in this icy magical world of high society that she was happy to leave behind. It had been her choice, in the moment after she’d read Sebastian’s telegraph; her family, her sister, her home… or him. Put like that, and knowing that he’d never hinted at returning her feelings, had made the decision an easy one. She’d been the one foolish enough to fall in love with a man who didn’t return her feelings. He’d been kind to her, and was the brother of the mentor she once trusted, but that was it. She might love him, but she wasn’t anything else to him, and never would be.

  Sighing, Annie forced herself to open her eyes. Without sound, it was foolish to choose to stay in darkness longer than was necessary. She’d found that her dreams became more vivid if she examined her eyelids too closely…