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

by Caroline Lee

  But then she swallowed, and clasped her fingers tightly in front of herself. Seeming to focus on her words, she carefully changed the subject. “Why did you bring a tree here?”

  Grateful that she wasn’t going to address the way he’d made her feel, Reggie lifted the small fir again, and hefted it onto one of the car’s tables. When he’d found the man selling Christmas trees a few blocks away from the train station, he’d had him nail two large boards in a cross to the bottom of the trunk. The tree wouldn’t live for very long, but Reggie didn’t need it to; he just needed it to stay upright.

  “There.” He brushed his hands off, and stepped back to admire the small tree. The elegant train car was feeling more Christmasy already. The awkwardness of a moment ago was gone when he turned to face her again. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We will be able to decorate the last tree.”

  Was it his imagination, or did her expression soften, her eyes flicking between him and the bushy fir? “Decorate? With what?”

  He’d sent a telegraph ahead to Kansas City, offering a pretty sum to the manager of the telegraph office if he’d arrange for certain types of ornaments to be waiting for them. But Reggie wasn’t about to tell her that, and ruin the surprise. So he just waggled his brows knowingly, and was gratified to see her reluctant smile. “You will see. We will be able to celebrate.”

  Annie sighed once, her attention going back to the tree, and he knew that she was comparing this Christmas to previous ones, with her family. He couldn’t let her dwell on the differences, though, or what was approaching. The whole point of the Christmas tree and the small celebration he was arranging was to distract her from the thought of what they’d find in Cheyenne.

  He surprised them both when he grabbed her hand. She tried—he thought it was instinctual—to pull away, but Reggie held tightly. “Did you read more of the book while I was gone?” It had been ages since he’d read a frivolous novel like the one she’d brought along, and was surprised to discover how much he enjoyed it. He was even more surprised to discover that Wendy had written it.

  Smiling slightly, Annie shook her head. “Not much. I will go back to your place.”

  He tugged her towards the settee, and they settled in the same position they had spent yesterday morning; tucked beside each other, reading the same book. He’d have to show her Sebastian’s telegraph—he was surprised she hadn’t asked to see it already—and tell her that Wendy was at least stable. But doing so would remind her of her worry, again, and he was doing everything he could right now to distract her.

  For now, she seemed content to sit beside him, her sweet-smelling head near enough to his shoulder that he could pretend she wanted to rest it there. Her touch made him warm, made him satisfied. No, more than that; holding her sent a—a sort of golden feeling through him. He snorted quietly, glad that she took it for a reaction to the book and didn’t ask why he was laughing at himself. Golden? He really was getting fanciful. But it was the truth; she made him feel like a better person, made him want to be a better person.

  Remembering the way he’d envied his parents’ marriage, and how they’d found a good partner in each other, Reggie tightened his arm around her shoulders, and was gratified when she wiggled a little closer without seeming to notice. He’d found a partner; someone who matched him, who he was comfortable around.

  Years of medical school and practicing medicine had taught him how to process different trains of thought at once. While part of his mind enjoyed the witty and romantic story Annie held, the rest thought about the future.

  What did he want? Did he want stay in New York, working at the clinic during the day and listening to his friends and family berate his choices at social events? Did he want to be known as a “traitor” to his class, who abandoned his family’s business? Did he want to drop Annie off with her family, do what he could for them, and return to the too-bright, too-full, too-judgmental New York?

  No. One thing he was sure of was that he did not want to leave Annie. She’d be back where she belonged by Christmas, but where would he be? He’d be there, with her… and the more he thought about it, the more he suspected that “with her” was where he belonged. Now that he’d seen her as a woman, rather than his brother’s student, he knew that she was a remarkable person.

  He enjoyed her company; enjoyed the way they could communicate with just a look, a gesture. He enjoyed the way she made him feel, and the way she reacted to him. He enjoyed her intensity, the way she stared at him while they spoke. He enjoyed the way she sucked on her bottom lip when she wasn’t sure, and he very, very much wanted to taste that lip.

  Perhaps that’s what he was waiting on; a kiss from her. Would he know then? Would he know if she was the woman he wanted to marry, to build a life with? A woman he’d be willing to leave New York for?

  Reggie snorted again, and carefully—afraid to startle her—pressed his cheek to her hair. She gave a little sigh, and he had to admit the truth to himself. He’d gone and fallen in love with Annie Murray, and no amount of reasoning or bargaining would change that.

  New York was part of his past, but Cheyenne was going to be his future. It’s where she belonged, and he belonged with her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  He’d left the notebook on the table, his bold script scrawled across a clean page. Annie traced his words carefully.

  Please wear your ball-gown. I will be back at 2 o’clock with your Christmas surprise.

  She smiled, imagining his enthusiasm. Reggie had arranged for George to bring her a large bowl of hot water after their last stop, and apologized that it was the best he could do for a warm bath. He hadn’t hinted that there was a reason for her to bathe, and Annie had assumed he was just being kind, with their arrival in Cheyenne planned before dawn tomorrow. But now she realized that he had something else in mind… and she was curious to know more about this “Christmas surprise” he had planned.

  Yesterday he’d gotten another telegraph from Sebastian. Annie had been surprised when he’d let her read it right away; she assumed he would want to hide it from her. But it was gratifying to know that he believed that she was strong enough to handle the news. Not only the news of Wendy’s health, but the news that Sebastian considered her too weak to handle it. Did he think she’d rather be dancing in New York among his shallow and gilded society, than with her sister? It was aggravating, and Annie wondered if she’d ever be able to change her tutor’s mind. If he’d ever be able to see her as an equal.

  Reggie already treated her as a partner, an equal. He’d been solicitous on the trip, but Annie didn’t feel like he was taking care of her. Her gaze settled on the small tree, secure atop one of the tables that had been bolted to the floor. Remembering the way he’d touched her yesterday when he’d come in with it—and his little smile—made Annie feel warm again.

  Between the tree and this mysterious Christmas surprise, he really was doing his best to make this trip as nice as possible. Glad now that she’d been able to wash a bit, Annie retreated to the car’s small bedroom in the rear. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and it would be a shame not to celebrate somehow. True, they were on a train hurtling towards the grief that waited for her at home… but that was all the more reason to celebrate when they could.

  At two o’clock sharp—Annie was dividing her attention between the door and the clock—Reggie backed into the room. He backed in because his arms were full with a big wooden crate, a tray of delicious-smelling baked goods, treats, and two champagne flutes balanced on top, and a bottle tucked under one arm. He looked so funny, trying to hold everything, that she laughed and went to help him.

  His “thank you” smile was worth it.

  He’d changed into his dinner-jacket again, and she liked the way his gaze swept appreciatively over her, and lingered on the spot at the base of her neck. She tamped down the urge to touch herself there, to try to cover the skin that the beautiful gown revealed. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and gave him what she hoped what a flirtat
ious grin.

  Judging from the way he fumbled the champagne bottle as he opened it, she thought it worked.

  He toasted her, and she nodded coyly, and he looked confused. Managing not to giggle, Annie decided that she liked flirting with him. It obviously put him off his stride, and she was tired of doing the expected. She wanted to enjoy this “surprise,” to celebrate Christmas, before tomorrow came and they would have to face Wendy’s—

  Annie swallowed a bit more of the champagne than she’d intended. Don’t think about Wendy, not now. Today was Christmas Eve, and she was determined to have some merriment.

  When Reggie got over his surprise at her teasing, he joined in. They spent an enjoyable hour sharing the treats he’d brought, and comparing stories about Christmases past. They wrote in his little book as often as they spoke, and Annie appreciated the way he was willing to communicate with her through writing. If only he knew the sign “language” Wendy had created for her, so that she could—

  No. She wasn’t thinking about her family now.

  Are you ready for your surprise?

  This wasn’t it? She felt positively languid, lounging on the settee in a beautiful gown, sipping champagne—George had brought a second bottle.

  No. His grin was infectious, like a child’s. I sent ahead and had the station master gather some things for us.

  “What things?”

  His grin grew, and rather than answer, he pulled her to her feet. His grip was strong and warm and although Annie knew that it was the champagne speaking, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and not let go. Fortunately, he didn’t her let go as he led her across the car to the wooden crate on the table with the tree. He handed her his own champagne flute, and bowed. She was still giggling when, with a flourish, he removed the top of the crate to show dozens of wrapped bundles nestled in straw.

  Sending him a curious glance, she bent closer, intrigued by the curious way his strong hands could handle something so delicate. In a moment, he had the wrapping off to reveal a wooden ornament the size of his fist, a perfect miniature rocking horse. She gasped in delight at such a display of talent, and put the flutes down in the special holders to grab another bundle. They didn’t speak while they unwrapped, but stood close enough to touch at the shoulders, and as each little masterpiece was uncovered, they’d point out the tiny details that made them unique.

  They were the most beautiful ornaments Annie had ever seen, and each one was different.

  Taking their time to choose the perfect branches, the two of them decorated the tree. Their tree. The last Christmas tree, the one that was always decorated on Christmas Eve. It didn’t matter that on this Christmas Eve, they were on a train speeding towards an uncertain future; no, he’d found a way to make it a memorable Christmas Eve nonetheless.

  As she hung the final ornament—a set of carved bells with hinged clappers, Annie’s favorite—he put his arm around her. She stepped away from the tree with a sigh and rested her head against his shoulder; they admired their handiwork. It had grown darker outside, but the lamps were lit and the car glowed merrily. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the ornaments… but Annie couldn’t remember a Christmas Eve this magical in a long time.

  She swallowed, wanting to find a way to tell him so. “Thank you for finding a way to decorate the tree, Reggie.” His arm tightened around her. “They are the most beautiful ornaments I have ever seen.”

  He turned her then, resting his strong hands on her arms. She loved it. “Really? More beautiful than the crystal ones you saw at the musicale?”

  The twinkle in his beautiful eyes told her that he was teasing her. He knew that those were cold and lifeless, compared to the hours it had taken some artisan to carve these. “These have meaning. Thank you for letting me be part of your tradition.”

  The smile fell away from his lips, and he placed both hands on her upper arms, as if to hold her there. She saw him swallow, and wondered at the intensity in his chocolate-brown eyes. “I have never—” He dipped his chin slightly, as if to emphasize the word—“enjoyed decorating a tree for Christmas as much as I have today.”

  “It is much smaller and simpler than your trees at home.”

  “That is what makes it so special. It is different. You are different.”

  Annie flushed, and tried to look away, ashamed by the disappointment that drifted through her limbs, reminded of the perfection of his world. But with a gentle hand on her cheek, he turned her face towards his again. “What is it, Annie?”

  “I am different. I am not perfect.” She wished that they were writing this conversation, so that she could be sure she understood exactly what he meant. But that would mean leaving his touch, and Annie couldn’t wish for that. “I am not like your family.”

  “No.” This sudden smile showed off the gap in his teeth. “You are not.”

  Once, she might’ve been offended by his easy agreement. But now she saw the teasing light in his dark eyes, and knew that he understood. “You are not perfect either.” That lock of hair was in front of his forehead again, and his hands were rough against her cheek.

  His smile grew. “We’re both perfectly imperfect.”

  She had to smile at his teasing, but it was rueful. “You come from a perfect world, where people pitied me.”

  He sighed and dropped his hand. “Not everyone…” She raised a brow, and he had the good grace to look apologetic when he ran his hand through his hair. “All right, maybe they did. But some of them are still good people.”

  “You are a good person.”

  Before she could blink, he was holding her again, staring down at her. “You think that? You think I am a good person?”

  Her answer seemed to matter to him, and she knew it mattered to her. So she smiled slightly, hoping he would see the truth in it, and lifted her fingers to his cheek. “I know you are.”

  When he exhaled, she could feel his breath on her skin. Feel his warmth through her skin. Feel him. When he pulled her closer, she went willingly. It probably was the champagne that made him feel so warm, and her so… gooey. Smiling, she wondered where her wits had wandered off to. Gooey?

  And then she wasn’t thinking at all, because he lowered his lips to hers, and her first kiss was… breathtaking. It stole her breath away.

  Those lips, which she’d been forced to watch intently since arriving in New York, moved against hers, soft and warm and firm all at once. Her fingers reached for his shirtfront of their own accord, and she hung on for dear life. Nibbling, sucking, caressing… who knew a pair of lips could do so much? She’d spent years studying the human mouth—the sounds it made, the shapes it formed—and had no idea it was so versatile.

  Lips had the power of speech, the power to communicate with the outside world, the power to be “normal.” Oh, yes, she’d studied lips, watched them, felt them even. But this! This was beyond anything Sebastian—or even Serena and Wendy!—had ever mentioned. This was a different kind of power. And after years of studying the powers of lips, of giving up her language of signs, Annie decided in an instant that she liked this power much more than speech.

  Her hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, determined not to break the contact, the power. He pulled her lower lip in between his, and when his tongue touched hers, she felt him groan. That realization was eclipsed by the wonder that filled her when he showed her how tongues could play.

  Had she thought the realization about lips surprising? That was nothing compared to suddenly understanding that the human tongue could do more than just form words. It could form entire universes of pleasures, built inside her chest and lower, in her stomach and lower still.

  Oh yes, her first kiss was quite special.

  And her second, and third, because when they finally pulled apart, it wasn’t for long. Reggie soon swept her up in his arms, and began a slow waltz around the moving train, tapping against her waist and occasionally dropping kisses to her forehead and nose and lips. They laughed and he teased her,
and she decided that she was quite, quite in love with him.

  In fact, when he reluctantly pulled away from her, and explained that they needed to sleep because they’d be arriving in Cheyenne before dawn, she couldn’t resist. Knowing that he couldn’t understand her, she flexed her fingers and ignored the vague feeling of guilt that Sebastian had instilled every time she tried to sign.

  *I love you, Reggie. I know you do not understand, but I needed to tell you.*

  And his expression was sad, almost, when he held his arms out to her. She couldn’t see his lips—his amazing lips—as she burrowed her face against his chest, but she felt him say something. Pulling back, she gazed up at him. He kissed her again, slowly, softly.

  “I am sorry that I cannot understand your signs, Annie. I know it is the easiest way for you to communicate with me, so I want to.”

  She wanted to tell him that just having him understand was good enough, but she couldn’t. Instead, she returned his “Good night” and retreated to the bedroom. The champagne, the gentle rocking of the train, and her full heart meant that she fell asleep sooner than she’d expected, and didn’t think of Wendy once.

  But the next morning, when the train pulled into Cheyenne, and she was dressed in her serviceable dark traveling gown and had her valise packed and ready to go, Annie was thinking of her sister. Wondering what they’d find here in her home on a bleak, foreboding Christmas morning.

  On her way out of the train, she stopped and ran her fingers over the ornaments on the tree, remembering what they represented. Knowing that no matter what met them in Cheyenne, she’d always have the memories of last night. Of a Christmas Eve spent with the man she loved.

  She tucked the intricately carved bells into her pocket, hoping to capture and treasure a small piece of that magic in the years to come. She wondered if she’d need it.