by Jillian Hart
Melanie slumped back in her chair to work the stiffness from her shoulders. Her hazel eyes twinkled. “This get-together will be even larger than last year, for sure. Talk of the town, in fact.” Her smile faded. “Except I heard that some of the scarlet ladies and ruffians from the wrong side of the tracks plan to attend. If they chug down a few drinks to celebrate before they arrive, trouble might break out.”
Rosa made a mental note to alert Tobias Hobbs, the city marshal. Of course, if Lucas Burnett accepted the hand-written invitation she had sent to him, she knew he could keep the situation under control without the marshal’s assistance.
Lucas… She sighed inwardly then went back to work. She had known of Lucas for the two years she had been in business in town. Yet, after two days of being secluded with him in his cabin, he had restored her lost faith in the male of the species. He was so…everything! Ruggedly handsome, virile, capable and he possessed the integrity and sense of honor that men like Jubal Hawthorne lacked.
The bell above the door jingled, announcing an arrival. “Mail’s here!”
Rosa strode from the workroom to the front of her shop. Although her shin was still a mite tender, she could walk without a limp. She veered around the racks of fashionable gowns that kept flying off the stands—at gratifying speed, she was happy to report.
“Here you go, Ms. Greer.” Henry Stokes, who was thirty years old or thereabout, handed her two letters. “You have friends back East, I see.”
Rosa smiled at the tall, thin busybody of a mail carrier who had bushy brown hair and pale blue eyes. “Indeed I do. Will you be attending Christmas on the Square tomorrow, Henry?” she asked, diverting his attention.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Henry’s smile displayed a few missing teeth. “Was hoping you’d save me a dance.”
“You are very kind to ask, but I will be busy checking with the band, greeting guests and refilling refreshments. Besides, my dancing skills are meager at best. You would likely limp home with sore feet after I trounced all over them.”
When Henry exited, Rosa pivoted to see that Melanie had propped her shoulder against the doorjamb and was smiling wryly. “I’m impressed with your ability to turn down men and make them think you are unsuitable. Ask me, what you need is a husband. Every woman needs one. You can’t have mine, of course. He suits me perfectly.”
Rosa had to agree. Cyril Ford, who managed the stage depot down the street, was Melanie’s ideal mate. They got along splendidly. Not everyone enjoyed such compatibility, she knew. All too many loveless weddings and business arrangements were referred to loosely as marriages. Long ago, Rosa had vowed never to be wedlocked to a man who used her for financial benefit, which is why she kept up her woman-of-modest-means persona.
Her thoughts trailed off when she opened the letter from her mother, who’d sent out another invitation to return to Maryland for Christmas. Her mother still didn’t understand why Rosa had taken up residence in an upstart town along the path of the coming railroad.
A mocking grin pursed Rosa’s lips when she read the part about “poor Jubal” who had been part of a scandal involving a wealthy aristocrat’s daughter. The girl’s father hadn’t insisted on marriage. Instead, he had shipped Jubal out of town on a westbound train two weeks earlier, serenaded by the bellowing command never to return—or else.
“Merry Christmas to you, Jubal, you jackal,” she murmured sarcastically.
Now, with her manipulative stepbrother out of the house, Rosa could visit her mother. But not at Christmas. She had toys and gifts to deliver—and it was going to be a long frantic night because Lucas refused to help her.
She opened the second letter, which was from Adrianna McKnight. Rosa shrieked in delight when she learned she had finally managed to entice her dear friend and cousin to move to Cahill Crossing. Rosa had invited Addie to Texas repeatedly to visit and inspect the ranch investment the Greers and McKnights owned as silent partners. Until now, Adrianna had responded, It’s tempting but the timing isn’t right. Papa is ill. But Rosa’s maternal uncle, Adrianna’s father, had passed the previous summer. Tempted with the possibility of adventure and excitement, Adrianna had decided to pack up and move to Texas.
“Everything all right out here?” Melanie asked as she poked her frizzy brown head around the corner.
“Everything is wonderful,” Rosa enthused as she tucked the letters in her pocket. “My cousin is coming in a few months and an old enemy was run out of town on a rail. Things couldn’t be better!”
“Will your cousin be buying up all your stylish creations?” Melanie asked.
“Definitely.” Rosa strode hurriedly into the workroom. “She is exceptionally supportive of my designs.”
“Then we had best get busy so we can finish all these orders before your cousin… What was her name again?”
“Adrianna,” Rosa supplied as she plucked up the scissors.
“Right. Before Adrianna arrives in town.”
Rosa set to work, her spirits riding high. Jubal had received his just deserts and Adrianna was coming to Cahill Crossing once the railroad tracks were completed in the spring. Now, if only Lucas…
She tamped down on the wistful thought. Just because she had developed an intense fascination for the local recluse didn’t mean he gave a whit about her. But at the very least, she wished Lucas would come to regard her as his friend. Yet, if one considered the intensity of the kiss they had shared one dark and snowy night, one might think—
Rosa felt tingles of remembered desire coursing through her. She didn’t consider herself an expert on kissing, but the embrace had seemed hot and explosive. Lucas had backed away from her before she was ready to let him go. Of course, men were men, she reminded herself. Lust was not heartfelt affection. What man would turn down an offered kiss? Not even Lucas, the cynical hermit, she suspected.
Rosa forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She had a holiday dress to complete in record time and a party to oversee. Despite her invitation—and she had sent Lucas two of them, just in case the exact date of the party slipped his mind—she doubted he would show up.
Chapter Four
Lucas scowled at his complete lack of willpower as he tethered Drizzle to the hitching post outside the general store—which sat next door to Rosa’s Boutique. He had sworn to Dog repeatedly that he was not coming to the second annual town-wide shindig Rosa hosted at Town Square for the holidays. But double damn, here he was, dressed in black, as usual. He was wearing the best clothes he owned. Which, by everyone else’s standards, probably hadn’t been fashionable in five years.
He glanced down at Dog. The ornery animal almost looked as if he were smiling in mocking amusement because his master had turned into a shameless hypocrite.
“Don’t say a word,” Lucas muttered at Dog then glanced every which way to make sure no passersby overheard him and called him crazy for carrying on a conversation with an animal.
Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, Lucas grumbled as he strode across the square. A large Christmas tree stood on each corner, decorated with paper ornaments and strings of popcorn. Lucas headed directly toward Rosa, who stood out like a beacon beneath the lanterns and torches that illuminated the dance area and refreshment tables.
Now that she had confided her background, he understood how she could afford this elaborate spread for the holidays. Knowing her, he predicted she had asked the local shops to pitch in, in order to avoid any speculation about where she had acquired the money for this grand affair.
Lucas rolled his eyes, remembering the handwritten invitation she’d had a gangly teenage boy deliver to him. The party won’t be the same without you, the note said. Then, a day later, as if he might have forgotten her invitation, another one arrived with the same teenager. Well, here he was, still uncertain why he’d shown up.
The locals kept glancing uneasily at him as if he were an outcast. Which he was, but he was the same outcast that had helped clear this area when it had been overrun with Mexic
an banditos and white outlaws, making settlement possible.
His thoughts trailed off when Rosa’s voice overrode the murmur of conversation around him.
“Lucas! I’m so pleased you could come. You’re just in time to meet some of my friends and acquaintances.”
Lucas was uncomfortable with limelight. Nevertheless, all eyes zeroed in on him because Rosa approached him. Dressed in a sparkling white gown, she reminded him of his personal vision of what an angel—minus the wings—should look like. When he saw her glittering white cape swirling around her as she all but floated toward him, he thought, ah, yes, wings included.
To his stunned amazement, she pushed up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek and said, “Happy holidays, Lucas.”
Silence followed. He shifted uneasily from one booted foot to the other. Then Rosa clasped his hand and led him over to the cluster of people standing beside a refreshment table.
“Cyril and Melanie Ford, this is my dear friend, Lucas Burnett,” she introduced. “He is the one who saved me from certain death when I was stranded in the blizzard last week.”
Lucas inclined his head to greet the large-boned, frizzy brown-haired woman and her stout, broad-chested husband who was an inch shorter and a few years older than his wife.
“Melanie is my assistant and Cyril runs the stage depot,” Rosa explained without releasing her hold on his hand.
Lucas was annoyed with himself for not stepping a respectable distance away from Rosa. Yet, like some moonstruck fool, he gave her hand a fond squeeze when she smiled angelically at him.
Double damn! The holiday must have turned him sappy. He wasn’t the handholding kind of man and this was the first Christmas party he had ever attended.
“And this is Dog,” Rosa went on to say as she hunkered down to give Dog a hug around the neck.
Dog nuzzled against her—a sap himself, apparently.
“If Lucas and Dog hadn’t found me in the snowdrift I wouldn’t be thawed out and alive to host this party.”
To Lucas’s amazement, the wariness he usually provoked in people fizzled out after Rosa finished hailing him as some sort of gallant hero. He had been accepted in town because she had given him a stamp of approval. Well, didn’t that beat all.
“And this is Quin Cahill,” Rosa said as she practically dragged Lucas toward the nearby lamppost where a man who matched Lucas in age, size and stature stood with a glass of punch in his hand. He had thick, dark hair and gray eyes that locked on Lucas with unblinking intensity.
“You two definitely should become acquainted.” Rosa smiled brightly. “After all, your properties border each other.” She leaned close to Lucas and he inhaled the tantalizing scent of her perfume. “Besides,” she added confidentially, “you and Quin could both use a friend. His family is hither and yon and I don’t know where yours is, either. You didn’t bother to say.”
“I don’t have any family left,” Lucas told her before turning his attention and extending his hand to Quin. “Pleasure, Cahill.”
“Same here, Burnett,” Quin replied then sipped his drink.
To his surprise, Rosa wrapped his fingers around a glass of punch, pressed another unexpected kiss to his cheek then flitted off to attend her hosting duties.
Quin arched a dark brow and smiled wryly. “Interesting. Men have stumbled all over themselves trying to court Rosa, the Darling of Downtown. And she latched on to you.”
Lucas shrugged nonchalantly. “Just gratitude.” He sipped his punch—and realized someone had spiked it with liquor. “She thinks I’m her guardian angel since I saved her life.”
Quin stared speculatively at Rosa’s departing back then focused on Lucas. Thankfully, Quin let the subject die a graceful death. Lucas liked that about him.
“I’ve been meaning to contact you,” Quin remarked. “I’ve seen some of the horses grazing in your pastures. I like the looks of them. I wondered if you would be interested in selling some to me.”
“I’ve been selling beef and horses to the military at nearby Fort Ridge,” Lucas replied, then took another sip of spiked punch. “I only give the army the offspring that don’t show the color I’m breeding, of course.”
“In other words, your selective breeding comes with a high price,” Quin paraphrased, his gray eyes glittering with faint amusement. “Like the cattle I’m breeding? The average-looking steers and calves head up the trail to Dodge City, but the prize stock is pampered at my ranch.”
Lucas grinned and said, “Maybe we can make a trade that will benefit both of us, Cahill.”
A few minutes later, several men ambled by and Quin introduced Lucas. After a round of howdy-dos, Lucas heard a loud voice to his left. He and Dog went on high alert when Rosa surged forward to intervene in the shouting match between two men who appeared to have imbibed too much whiskey on the wrong side of town before attending the Christmas party.
Although Lucas had sworn two years earlier that he was officially out of the law-enforcement business, he handed his glass to one of his new acquaintances and strode off to quell the disturbance before Rosa accidentally caught a flying fist.
“Blasted female,” he mumbled as he quickened his pace. “Independent and assertive aren’t always noble traits.”
“Amen to that, friend,” Quin grumbled behind him.
Lucas glanced over his shoulder, surprised to note that Quin had come to back him up. And Dog made three.
“Hey!” A drunken tracklayer scowled when an inebriated ranch hand shoved him backward. “Git yer own girl. I’m gonna dance with this one.”
“No, you are not,” Rosa contradicted as she positioned herself in front of the attractive young woman who had drawn both men’s interest. “Both of you are going to leave her alone.”
“Then I’ll take you, honey, and he can have the chit.”
Rosa yelped in surprise when the unshaven scoundrel—who smelled as if he had bathed in whiskey—snaked his arm around her waist and yanked her back against him. She reflexively elbowed him in the belly. Which turned out to be a mistake. His grin became a spiteful scowl and he gave her a hard shake that rattled her teeth.
“Nobody rejects Fred Garner,” he breathed down her neck. “I don’t care if you are some la-di-da dress shop owner. You and me are gonna—”
Rosa blinked in surprise when the oafish tracklayer levitated off the ground and hung there with his boots dangling in midair. She glanced over her shoulder to see Lucas holding Fred by the nape of his tattered coat. When he growled threateningly so did Dog. Even the loudmouth ruffian had enough sense to shut up when Lucas bore down on him. His expression was as cold and hard as granite.
“Did you have something to say to the lady, Fred?” Lucas said in a low, vicious snarl.
“You that ruthless ex-Ranger mongrel?” the drunkard muttered.
“That would be me, Fred,” Lucas assured him gruffly. “I’ve been itching to kill someone since I retired. You wanna be him?”
“Be nice,” Rosa murmured. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”
Lucas spared her a glance then glowered at the foul-smelling galoot. “Don’t cross me or Rosa again, Freddie.” He let Fred drop to his feet and watched him sway to regain his balance. “You get to live. Merry Christmas.”
The stringy-haired hooligan made a show of straightening his grimy jacket then flashed Lucas a go-to-hell look. Lucas decided Fred needed more convincing so he grabbed his arm and spun him around to escort him off the premises.
“You want to deal with this besotted cowboy or can I have him?” Quin asked, holding the other troublemaker by the forearm.
“He’s all yours. Might as well spread the cheer. Happy holidays, Cahill.”
Rosa watched Quin quick-march the second ruffian across The Square. Lucas, Dog and Fred were a few steps ahead of them. She smiled, pleased that Lucas and Quin had bonded. Both men had been fodder for gossip. Lucas, because of his mixed heritage, his dangerous reputation and his refusal to venture into society on a regular basis
. Quin because of the Cahill family tragedy, the rift between him, his brothers and sister and the mishaps at 4C Ranch that townsfolk referred to as the Cahill Curse.
When several female acquaintances appeared to check on her and Sylvia Bradley—the young brunette Fred had pestered—Rosa focused her attention on her guests. Her gaze drifted to Lucas at irregular intervals as he and Quin escorted the misbehaving ruffians off the premises. She wished for a private moment to thank him for intervening. However, she expected he would commence lecturing her about thrusting herself in harm’s way, just as he had scolded her for traveling in the storm. But she could endure his tirade if it meant spending more time with him. She had missed him these past few days and she had been delighted that he had attended the party.
Be satisfied that you have made giant strides by getting him into town, she told herself. He was mingling in society and he had made a new friend. But still, she longed to be with him, to inhale his alluring masculine scent, to share more than a peck on his bronzed cheek, to run her hands over his sinewy flesh…
This is no time to be thinking those kinds of titillating thoughts! Rosa admonished herself silently then walked off to tend her duties as hostess.
It was late. He should go home.
Lucas sighed in frustration as he stared up at the light glowing in the upstairs window of Rosa’s apartment above the boutique. Her party had been a grand success, except for the three interruptive fights that had broken out, he amended. Lucas and Quin had taken it upon themselves to deal with the troublemakers because Tobias Hobbs, the city marshal, hadn’t been on hand when the arguments between tracklayers, soldiers from Fort Ridge and cowboys erupted.
His thoughts and his gaze drifted back to the upstairs window. Hell, who was he kidding? He hadn’t attended tonight’s holiday hoopla to socialize. He’d come to see Rosa…because not seeing her for several days had made him restless and dissatisfied.