by Janet Dailey
Jubal chuckled, shaking his head. It felt good, standing here joking with her—maybe too good. “There are no words,” he said. “Your reputation is made.”
She giggled. “Yes, I’ll be known as the purple pregnant lady forever.”
“Or at least for as long as you stay in Branding Iron.” And she wouldn’t be staying long, Jubal reminded himself. “While you’re here, I could use your help with something—Gracie’s hair.”
“Is something wrong with her hair?”
“Not really wrong. But she loved that braid you did so much that she tried not to sleep on it Monday night so it would look nice for school the next day. This morning she tried to fix her hair that way again. She couldn’t do it. She wound up in tears and had to go to school with her hair in pigtails again.”
Jubal sighed, remembering. At the time, he’d found himself wishing Ellie had left his daughter’s hair alone. But then he’d realized how pleased Gracie had been with her new look and how confident it had made her feel. “I was hoping you could show her how to do the braid herself,” he said.
“I’d be happy to try,” Ellie said. “But it won’t be that easy for Gracie to braid her own hair. It was my mother, not me, who French-braided Gracie’s hair. She used to do my hair that way when I was in school. I know how to do it—I used to braid my friends’ hair. But I never could fix my own hair that way. I’d try, but it never went right. Something tells me Gracie would have the same problem.”
“Too bad. She’ll be disappointed. But at least I can tell her I asked you.”
Ellie studied him, a thoughtful smile on her face. “I can think of one way this would work. I could teach you how to French-braid Gracie’s hair.”
“Me?” Jubal choked on his own surprise. “I can’t braid hair!”
She grinned. “Sure you can. Remember that summer when we braided your mare’s mane and tail for the July Fourth parade? It’s the same idea.”
“That was a long time ago. And I’m not a damned hairdresser.”
“No, you’re the solo parent of a sweet little girl. And learning to do her hair would be an act of love.”
She had him, roped and tied. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” he said. “But don’t expect much.”
“You’ll be fine. When do you want the lesson?”
“How about we invite you to dinner tonight at the ranch? Gracie would be over the moon to see you. Six o’clock?”
“Fine. I’ll watch out for deer on the road. And I won’t forget what you told me.”
Jubal’s mind went blank for an instant; then he realized she was talking about his admonition not to encourage Gracie’s friendship. “Thanks, I appreciate that,” he said.
“Six, then.” She climbed into the Purple People Eater and started the engine. The muffler growled as she pulled out of the parking slot.
Jubal watched her drive away. Only Ellie could pull off a car like that with so much class. Even pregnant, she was out of his league. Not that he was in the market—and even if he were, it wouldn’t be Ellie. Branding Iron might be a temporary refuge for her. But she was a city woman, elegant, sophisticated, and accustomed to the best.
So what would be up to her standard for dinner ? Lobster? Coq au vin? Never mind, Ellie would have to settle for pot roast with carrots and potatoes. It wouldn’t be fancy, but he knew how to make it good.
Was he doing the right thing, inviting Ellie back into his life, and into his daughter’s? Ellie Marsden was a package of heartbreak tied with an elegant silk bow. But right now his lonely little daughter needed something more than he could give her.
Whether he liked it or not, maybe that something was Ellie.
* * *
It was dark by the time Ellie turned onto the graveled lane and headed for Jubal’s ranch. She’d driven with care, keeping a sharp lookout for deer. So far, she’d seen none.
“I guess no self-respecting deer would risk being hit by the Purple People Eater,” she said out loud. “What do you think, Beau?”
Hunkered in his booster basket, the tiny poodle gave her a nervous yip. He wasn’t much for dark roads and old cars steeped in unfamiliar smells. But Ellie knew that if danger threatened he would spring to protect her.
Bringing Beau along had been a last-minute decision. She hadn’t asked Jubal for his approval. But Gracie would love seeing the little dog, and Beau would enjoy the attention she lavished on him.
Back in San Francisco, good manners would have required that she bring a bottle of wine to a dinner party. Since that wasn’t practical tonight, Ellie had whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies that afternoon. It had been a long time since she’d baked anything from scratch, but her mother’s old recipe was as tasty as ever.
As she pulled up to the porch, Jubal came outside to open her car door. She handed him the box of cookies, tucked her purse under the seat, and lifted Beau out of his basket.
Jubal raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest.”
“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind. You know how Gracie loves him.” Ellie climbed out of the car and locked the door with the key, which she put in her pocket.
“Yes, I know. She’s been wanting a little dog for a long time. I might give it some thought as a Christmas present, but the timing isn’t right.”
His eyes met hers, and she caught the flash of pain and worry in them. Gracie wouldn’t know about his struggle to salvage the family ranch, or what would happen if the mysterious new owners chose to take possession.
“Come on in,” he said, offering his arm. “Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you like pot roast.”
“I love it.” She inhaled the aroma that drifted through the open front door. “If it tastes as good as it smells, I’ll be in heaven.”
“Careful.” His free hand steadied her going up the front steps.
“You make me feel like an invalid—or a very old woman,” Ellie said.
“Sorry, but nothing’s going to happen to that baby, or to you, on my watch.”
That was true, Ellie remembered. Jubal had always kept her safe. No one else had ever made her feel so protected.
Gracie came bounding in from the kitchen, where she’d finished setting the table. Tonight there was a blue tablecloth with carefully folded cloth napkins and nice white dishes that matched.
“Hey, you brought Beau!” She reached out and took the little poodle from Ellie’s arms for a frenzy of wagging, licking, petting, and giggling.
Jubal had taken Ellie’s coat to hang on the rack. Now he stood in the entrance to the kitchen watching his daughter, his expression a stoic mask.
“Can I help with dinner?” Ellie asked.
“There’s not much to do except put the food on,” Jubal said. “I can do that. Gracie, you’ll need to wash your hands.”
Still holding Beau, Gracie turned to Ellie. “Can I put him on the floor?”
“Sure. But you might want to close the doors to places where he shouldn’t go. He likes to explore.” Taking her cue, Ellie followed Gracie into the bathroom to wash her hands as well. “Thank you for having me here tonight,” she said.
“I hope you like dinner.” Gracie rinsed her hands and dried them on the towel. “My dad’s a pretty good cook, but I made the salad.”
“I’m betting it will be wonderful.” Ellie washed and followed Gracie back to the living room, where they found Beau happily sniffing out a corner behind the rocking chair. The crackling blaze in the fireplace lent a warm glow to the plain room with its timbered ceiling and timeworn furnishings. Cozy. That was the word for it, Ellie thought. Compared to this lived-in home, her San Francisco condo had been about as welcoming as the display window in a high-end furniture gallery.
“Come and get it,” Jubal called from the kitchen. He’d put the pot roast, salad, and freshly warmed bakery rolls on the table. Everything looked and smelled delicious. As they took their seats, it struck Ellie how much time and effort had gone into making this meal for her. She�
��d sat down to plenty of lavish dinners in San Francisco, but she’d never felt more like an honored guest than she did tonight.
Was that what she wanted—to be important to this good man and his love-hungry little daughter? Or was she letting herself be drawn into a trap of her own making?
As she listened to Gracie’s murmured blessing on the food, she could feel the baby kicking. An unexpected ripple of contentment swept over her. This was almost like being family, she thought.
This was what she’d run away from, far and fast, when she’d left Branding Iron ten years ago, for a different life.
Gracie’s happy chatter filled what might have been awkward silences, making the meal a pleasant time. They finished off with vanilla ice cream to go with Ellie’s chocolate chip cookies. Then, when the dishes were cleared away, it was time for the hair braiding lesson.
Gracie sat on a kitchen chair, holding Beau in her lap, while Ellie brushed out her hair and began the demonstration, starting at the crown of her head with a few strands and weaving in more as the single braid progressed. Jubal stood by watching, occasionally muttering and shaking his head.
Reaching the bottom of the braid, Ellie brushed it out again. “Your turn now,” she said to Jubal. “You’ll see. It’s not that hard.”
“You can do it, Dad.” Gracie added her encouragement. “You can do anything.”
“You start like this.” Ellie stood close, guiding his big hands as she struggled to ignore the heat that the intimate contact—and the memories—stirred in her body. Little by little he began to get the knack of it. The first braid he finished was somewhat lopsided, but he had the technique down. Gracie and Ellie clapped their hands as he finished.
“I’ll do better next time.” His face wore a grin of accomplishment. “What do you think of it, Gracie?”
Gracie handed Beau to Ellie. Standing, she felt the braid with both hands. Then, with a happy laugh, she flung her arms around her father’s waist and hugged him tight. “I’m proud of you, Dad,” she said.
A rush of tears caught Ellie by surprise. She blinked them away. She could have hugged Jubal herself, he looked so pleased—and yet the worry was there, a shadow in his eyes. With what was looming, how was he going to provide all the things his daughter would need?
“This calls for a celebration!” he said. “Ellie, how would you like to go with us to buy the prettiest, greenest Christmas tree on the lot?”
Ellie had been about to make her excuses and leave, but Gracie was jumping up and down. “Oh, please come with us, Ellie! It’ll be a lot more fun with you and Beau along.”
How could she not say yes?
“Of course, I’ll come along.” Ellie put Beau down long enough for Jubal to help her on with her coat. When all three of them were bundled up, they headed out to the truck.
The Christmas tree lot was at Hank’s Hardware, on the near side of town. Ellie let Gracie hold Beau on the way, while the radio blared Christmas music—loud, with all of them singing along, the way Gracie wanted.
The tree lot was crowded with families. Ellie’s heart sank as she realized that showing up with Jubal and his daughter was going to cause some talk. Jubal glanced at her as he pulled the truck up to the chicken wire fence.
“If this is going to be too much for you, you can wait in the truck,” he said.
Was he talking about the strain of being on her feet too long or the discomfort of facing the townspeople? Either way, Ellie decided, it wouldn’t hurt to be a good sport.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, tucking Beau under her coat. “If I get tired, I can always go back to the truck. Oh—and I won’t plan on coming in when we get back to the ranch. By then I’ll be ready to head home.”
The weather was clear tonight, the breeze little more than a whisper. Ellie unbuttoned her coat far enough for Beau to stick his head out. The little poodle squirmed and whimpered, wanting to get down.
“No, you don’t,” Ellie told him. “Those trees aren’t for you.”
She glanced up to see Jubal smiling at her. “He’s all dog, isn’t he?” he said.
“He is,” Ellie said. “And this place, with all these trees, would be heaven for him. But no way is he getting loose.”
Gracie tugged her father’s hand. “Come on, Dad, let’s get a tree!”
Ellie let them get ahead, following at her own slower pace. All around her, the air was filled with the scent of fresh evergreens and the sounds of excitement as families searched for the perfect tree.
What would it be like, she wondered, being part of a real family with a husband and children? Christmas in San Francisco, with Brent, had been a series of parties with casual friends and business associates. Being married to him had never felt like family to her. This year . . . Ellie’s gaze wandered across the lot to where Jubal was holding up a tree for his daughter’s approval. They’d brought her along as a friend tonight, but she wasn’t family. She didn’t belong.
She’d be all right after Christmas, she told herself. The holiday would be behind her and she could look ahead to having her baby. But for now, even with her mother and Ben and Jess around, this Christmas would be fraught with loneliness and anxiety.
“Ellie! Come look!” Gracie had darted back to pull at her hand. “Come see the tree we found!”
Aware of the curious glances she was drawing, Ellie followed Gracie to where Jubal was standing with a perfect tree. It was a foot taller than his head, with a lovely natural shape, fresh, full, and green on all sides. She glanced up at the price posted on the row of trees. It was expensive—probably more than Jubal, in his present circumstances, could afford to pay.
“So this is the one for sure?” he asked Gracie.
“Yes! It’s perfect! I love it!”
“Then it’s yours. Keep an eye on it.” Removing the tag, Jubal took it over to the counter and fished his wallet out of his hip pocket. Ellie, who happened to have a few bills in her pocket, was tempted to offer her help in buying the tree. But she knew better. Jubal wanted to do this for his daughter.
Minutes later he was back, his face flushed with cold and pleasure. “It’s ours. Let’s get it home.” He hefted the tree onto his shoulder and headed out the gate to the truck. Gracie followed, dancing with excitement, with Ellie, weary on her feet, trailing behind.
“Please, can we put the tree up and decorate it tonight?” Gracie asked as they drove back to the ranch.
“Not tonight,” Jubal said. “You’ve got school in the morning, and it’s already close to your bedtime. The tree will be fine on the porch for a couple of days. What do you say we decorate it this Friday?”
“Yes!” Gracie hugged Beau so tightly that he squirmed. “Ellie, can you come and help us? It’ll be lots more fun with you there.”
Ellie’s gaze met Jubal’s across the truck cab. In the glow of the dash lights, she read a look of warning. She imagined them putting Laura’s decorations on the tree, remembering past Christmases when Jubal’s wife was alive. She shook her head. “I’m sorry but I’ve got other plans. You two have a good time. I’m sure your tree will be beautiful.”
Gracie deflated into a silence that lasted until the truck pulled through the ranch gate and stopped at the foot of the porch. Jubal climbed out and came around to help Ellie out of the high passenger seat. “Give the dog back to Ellie,” he told Gracie. “Then run on inside and get ready for bed. I’ll be in after I walk Ellie to her car and unload the tree.”
Gracie climbed the porch steps and turned at the door. “Good night, Ellie,” she said. “Thanks for coming.”
“And thanks for dinner,” Ellie said. “It was yummy, especially your salad. Sleep tight.”
When Gracie had gone inside, Jubal took Ellie’s arm and walked her to where the car was parked. A chilly wind had sprung up. Beau was shivering. Ellie opened the passenger side door, put him in his booster basket, and tucked his blanket around him. Closing the door again, she turned back to Jubal.
“Thanks for a lo
vely time,” she said. “I mean it. You went to a lot of trouble to make me feel welcome.”
He was looking down at her, his eyes in shadow. “Thanks for the hair braiding lesson. I just hope I can remember how to do it in the morning.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a great father,” Ellie said. “Gracie’s a wonderful kid.”
“She deserves a lot more than I can give her.” He exhaled with a ragged breath. “Oh, damn it, Ellie, why did you have to come back at a time like this?”
Cupping her chin between his hands, he captured her lips in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender—a kiss that felt as natural as opening buds in springtime. Ellie’s eyes closed. She stretched on tiptoe, straining upward to deepen the rough velvet contact of his mouth with hers. She breathed him into her senses, knowing the whole time that this was wrong and that it had to end. Once they’d been young enough to believe in fairy-tale endings. They would never be that young again.
As she’d known he would, Jubal released her and took a step back. His face wore a stricken expression.
Ellie spoke first, knowing what had to be said. “We can’t do this, can we?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t kids anymore. We can’t go back to where we were—and we shouldn’t try.”
She blinked back welling tears. “Neither of us needs more craziness in our lives right now, do we?”
He walked around the car, took her key, and opened the driver’s side door. “Good night, Ellie. Watch out for deer.”
“Thanks, I will.” She slid her bulk beneath the steering wheel. By the time she got the car started, Jubal had closed the door and walked away.
* * *
Later, lying in the darkness, he allowed himself to relive the kiss he’d shared with Ellie. It had been a crazy impulse, but he wasn’t sorry. Even after ten years, the way her sweet lips molded to his was just as he remembered. And the response that had sent heat surging through his body was as urgent as ever.
But it was over and done. They’d both moved on, and there could be no going back. Ellie didn’t belong in Branding Iron. And he would never belong anywhere else. She’d said as much the day she left him.