Wild West Christmas: A Family for the RancherDance with a CowboyChristmas in Smoke River

by Jenna Kernan

  It had been her money that had driven them apart. Her wealth had created some insurmountable obstacle that he could never match. If he would not accept her help to go to school or start a business, then she must prove to him that she didn’t need the money to be happy.

  But even if she did that, even if she convinced him that she did not require her parents’ blessing, what about the boys? She had managed to care for them up until now. But what if they were sick, or injured? How long until they recognized that all her knowledge and wisdom came from a book?

  That question kept her awake a good deal of the night. In the morning she felt positively fuzzy headed with fatigue. But she had the boys up and dressed before the men returned to her kitchen for breakfast. She knew from the lantern glow that they were feeding the horses and mucking stalls. Despite her hope to have a moment alone with Dillen, she did not manage that day or the next. Dillen and Mr. Roberts came to the house for meals and to take the boys for part of the afternoon. On Sunday morning, Alice sat with the boys in the back of the large wooden sleigh, their feet on warm bricks and their bodies tucked under a real buffalo skin. Dillen drove the two-horse team and Mr. Roberts smoked his pipe and pointed out hazards that Dillen seemed to have noticed before the foreman.

  Alice began to see what Dillen had tried to tell her and what Mrs. Pellet had worried over. Taking care of the ranch, horses and Mr. Roberts was more than a full-time job. Add two boys to the mix and something would have to give. Could she really manage such a task indefinitely? In addition, she recognized this was not really a home. They stayed on the charity of Mr. Harvey, and she found that did not sit well with her. She began to understand Dillen’s refusal to accept her help. But she wasn’t seeking to give charity. It was different, wasn’t it?

  She didn’t know.

  How could she convince Dillen to let her secure a home for the boys? More important, how could she convince her parents? What if they really did cut off her source of income? Would Dillen be able to support them all?

  The best thing to do was convince Dillen to get his degree in veterinary sciences and then convince her parents that he would be a professional man. That way, the boys could stay with her as Dillen attended school and...

  She was getting ahead of herself again. Dillen had said that he had left because of the money. She did not really know if he still harbored tender feelings for her. That, she decided, was the first step.

  The boys wiggled some in church, but were very devout during prayers. They seemed to be asking God’s favor quite diligently, and Alice assumed they spoke to Him about their parents or perhaps to their parents. She did not pry, but did worry. She seemed to be doing that more often since she’d taken on the responsibility of ferrying the boys to their uncle.

  They shared a meal with Mr. Roberts’s niece, Louise Pellet, and Alice was happy to have a woman with whom to speak, if only for a little while.

  The temperature had dropped, and the ride back to the ranch was a cold one. Dillen had the fires roaring shortly after their arrival, and Alice made hot coffee for the men and broth for the boys.

  The men went to check on the horses and the boys followed along, looking like two miniature versions of the cowboys.

  That evening, they all gathered by the fire to try out the popcorn popper Mr. Roberts had unearthed. The process required a lot of shaking to keep the kernels from burning and a lot of giggling from the boys as the nuggets exploded inside the tin box.

  Alice felt the days ticking away and her chances to reunite with Dillen waning. She had done what she could to show him that she was capable and she had offered help in caring for the boys, which had only seemed to further injure Dillen’s pride.

  So here she was, eating popcorn and listening to the music that vibrated from the strings of Dillen’s fiddle as she tapped her toes and sang along. Their voices blended perfectly, just as they always did. Couldn’t they blend their lives the same way? She’d missed this, missed him, though she hadn’t even left yet. What else could she do to impress upon him that she wanted to remain here?

  Why had she told him she needed to return to her family for the holidays, when the truth was no one needed her? Instead of encouraging him to pursue her, it had only caused an artificial deadline that she could not rescind without losing face. But Christmas was for family, wasn’t it? And she should go home to hers. Alice looked from Dillen to the boys and felt like weeping.

  They finished the popular song “Home on the Range” and Dillen took requests for Christmas carols. The boys called one upon the next as their uncle considered them all.

  “What about you, Bill? You have a favorite?”

  “Well, I’ve always been partial to ‘O Holy Night.’”

  Dillen nodded, looking relaxed now. Was it the food or the company or the fiddle that made him seem so at ease?

  “You two know the words?” asked Dillen.

  “Yes, sir,” said Cody.

  “Okay, then. All yours.”

  Dillen began to play and the boys sang on cue. Alice pressed a hand to her heart. The Asher brothers had beautiful voices, as sweet and pure as springwater. She smiled and listened, feeling the stab of regret as she considered her approaching leave-taking.

  Might it be for the best? Dillen had bonded with the boys and they to him. Perhaps he wanted her gone. Perhaps her visit was an imposition and he would be relieved to see her back. But then she recalled that kiss. He certainly had not kissed her like a man who felt nothing for her. She knew that because she’d been kissed by at least three men who fit that situation exactly. All three men had been passionate about her wealth, but less so about her person. In one case she’d found a gentleman caller trying on one of her hats, which disturbed her greatly, though she was not certain why.

  She watched Dillen as he drew the bow and winked at her as he finished the last verse at a slower cadence. She broke into applause as they finished.

  Dillen set aside his fiddle. “Boys, I hate to tell you this, but it’s past your bedtime.”

  The two gave heartfelt cries of anguish as if he were sending them out into the cold instead of to their comfortable beds—Harvey’s beds.

  Mr. Roberts chimed in. “None of that. Santa only brings gifts to good boys.”

  The whining halted instantly as the two glanced about as if expecting to see Santa at the window. There was no further argument as Dillen rose from his seat. Together he and Alice climbed the stairs toward the boys’ bedroom.

  Alice stood and extended her hand to Colin.

  “I’ll take them,” said Dillen. “Best learn how.”

  The boys cheered as he threw one over each shoulder and carried them up the stairs.

  Alice watched Dillen until he disappeared from sight.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she whispered. “You are not going to figure out how to do without me again.”

  Alice decided then and there that before she boarded that train, she would discover if Mr. Dillen Roach still harbored any tender feelings for her. That would require her to take bold action, unladylike action. There might be consequences, but she would rather return home knowing that she had lost her heart than to live her life with this nagging uncertainty.

  * * *

  Over the next several days, Dillen worked the Welsh ponies as Colin and Cody played beyond the fence.

  The ponies were growing accustomed to the feel of the reins on their necks but were not yet aware that this rein contact was an instruction as to which way to go. They were smart horses and learning fast, so he was sure they’d figure it out soon.

  He’d set up a sawhorse and nailed a set of steer horns on the front so Cody could practice with a lariat. He’d told them briefly about his time riding north with the herds out of Texas. Now Cody swung that rope again and again, trying to get it to open and close at just the right moment. Had it
been a real steer, he was quite sure the critter would be blind or addled from all the blows. But the boy was persistent. Reminded Dillen of his sister. That thought put a hitch in his step. He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve, then walked the horses over to the rail, tied them off and slipped between two slats to join the pair of boys.

  Cody swung the rope, threw and tugged. He’d managed to capture one horn. Colin clapped and then ran to release the rope.

  “You did it, Cody! You got him.” He dropped the lariat and Cody reeled it in, looping the lanyard just as Dillen had shown him. The boy needed some gloves and a hat. Dillen stilled. He needed many things. Dillen could buy the clothes. But what about the rest? He didn’t want Cody and Colin to turn into saddle bums like him. He took the rope from Cody.

  “That’s enough now. You ought to be learning from books. That will take you a sight further than a rope.”

  The pride left Cody’s face and Dillen felt out of his element again. He wanted better for his boys than what he had. His...boys.

  No, they should go to great-aunt what’s her name. He imagined them in that musty house with teacups rattling and a piano to dust. He stared at the two, cheeks flushed, vapor coming from their mouths with each breath.

  “You like it here?” he asked.

  They both nodded.

  “Miss your folks?”

  Another nod.

  “Yeah, me, too.” He slipped back into the ring. “Come on, let’s get these two settled.”

  Colin crested the top of the fence, his little face now close to eye level.

  “You got them sugar cubes?” asked Dillen.

  They reached into their trouser pockets and held out the treat.

  “Okay, then. Like I showed you.”

  The boys bravely held out their palms to the ponies, thumbs tucked tight to their hand to prevent an accidental nip. The sugar was sucked away by the pair.

  “That’s right,” said Dillen, and smiled.

  “Can you teach us to ride?”

  Cody shushed his brother, but then turned his large hopeful eyes on his uncle.

  “Maybe,” said Dillen. “Take some time.”

  “We got time.”

  They didn’t. Not if great-aunt whats-is took them. He knew that the boys needed a home, but boys could live rough for a little while, just until he could get his legs under him and settle someplace permanent. If he ever did find such a place. In the meantime, did he really think to drag these boys around from town to town with his saddle? Maybe he could keep them until spring. He had this job until then. If they were going to stay, he’d need to see to their schooling and feed them. The impossibility of it all closed in on him. He wondered if he might convince Alice to stay, too.

  Maybe, just maybe, Alice was enough of a Christian to come back here after her elegant Christmas holiday and look after the boys while he searched for full-time, steady work. She might do it for the boys’ sake. He could stomach that much help. What he couldn’t stomach was talk of taking her money. He wasn’t the fortune hunter her mother had accused him of being.

  Just a little while more, and then he’d let her go. Damn, this time he feared her leaving would kill something inside him.

  “Will you teach us?” asked Cody.

  “I’ll think on it.”

  They trailed him to the next stall. Cody climbed up on the lip of the stall to watch him tend to Temptation’s overlong front hooves. Colin’s head appeared beside his brother’s. Dillen slid his hand down the horse’s leg encouraging him to lift his hoof. There was a shout and a thud. He straightened.

  Beside the stall rail, Colin lay motionless on the ground.

  Chapter Ten

  Alice set the kitchen to rights and took a smoked ham from her larder for supper. She was humming a hymn from church and peeling potatoes when the front door banged open and Dillen bellowed her name. She dropped the potato into the sink as a chill of apprehension straightened her spine. Dillen’s voice was always calm, steady. But now it held an unfamiliar note of hysteria. She knew it was one of the boys. Something terrible had happened.

  She lifted her skirts and ran toward the front of the house.

  Dillen carried Colin in his arms, the boy’s form still and limp as a rag doll.

  “What happened?” she asked, fearing she would not even hear the answer over the deafening drumroll of her own heartbeat.

  How many times had she helped her father care for an injured child? How many times had she seen the terror on the face of a parent? Now that same terror consumed her, making her skin tingle as a spiny ball of fear lodged in her throat.

  “He fell into the stall with Temptation,” said Dillen. His face was as pale as snow and his eyes seemed huge.

  “Was he kicked?”

  “No. I...I...”

  “Put him there.” Alice pointed at the big rough-hewn dining room table. “Is he breathing?”

  “No. No!” Dillen laid Colin down and turned to Alice. “I don’t think so.”

  Colin’s eyes were wide-open, but his face was blue.

  “Coat!” said Alice.

  Dillen tore the child’s coat open with one mighty rip, sending buttons flying, and then pressed a hand to the child’s forehead. “He was gasping at first, and then he stopped breathing.”

  “Was he eating something?” Alice tore off the coat, searching for some injury and finding none. Colin’s eyelids drooped. He was fainting. She sat him up and checked his ribs for a fracture. Then she opened his mouth and looked inside. There was something white deep in his throat.

  She sat him up and pounded on his back. The object flew across the table and skittered to the floor. A heartbeat later, Colin drew a great rasping breath. His color changed on the next breath. On the third, he started to wail. Alice scooped him up in her arms and held him close, rubbing his back. She sat down as the fear that had carried her left in a rush. She closed her eyes to better absorb the wave of dizziness.

  When she opened them, it was to meet Cody’s frightened face. She extended one arm and he ran to her. She pulled him in for a hug, too.

  “He’s all right now. Nothing to worry about.”

  Dillen stooped and lifted the object from the floor. “Sugar cube,” he said, and leaned against the table as if he, too, needed support.

  Bill limped in, arriving as quickly as he could manage.

  “Is he all right?” he asked.

  Dillen held out the sugar. “Nearly choked to death on this.”

  Bill lifted the sugar to examine it.

  “Big enough to block the windpipe, I guess. Knew a boy that once died choking on a tin whistle. Closed his throat quicker than diphtheria.”

  Alice and Dillen exchanged looks of horror. Colin’s sobs diminished and he snuggled closer to Alice. Cody chastised his brother.

  “That sugar is for the horses!”

  “I kn-n-now,” sniffled Colin.

  “That’s enough now, Cody,” said Alice. “Go and fetch your brother some water.” Alice stroked the damp hair back from Colin’s forehead. “You know it isn’t safe to play with something in your mouth. We talked about that when I gave you those lemon drops.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll expect you to be more careful in the future. Now apologize to your uncle. You scared him half to death.” She did not mention that her own heart still batted about her ribs like a rubber ball.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Dillen. I know that sugar was for the horses.”

  Instead of scolding the child, Dillen pulled Colin out of Alice’s arms and hugged him, burying his face in the child’s neck. Alice gaped as she saw that Dillen was crying. That sight undid her, bringing the burn of tears to her own eyes. But as Cody arrived with the water, holding the glass in two hands, Alice wiped her eyes a
nd accepted the offering.

  Dillen released Colin, whose hair stood up on top like a rooster, and his eyes were red rimmed and she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

  “Drink some water, son,” said Dillen.

  Alice stilled. He’d called him son and somehow she knew that Dillen wanted only what was best for the boys.

  Colin drank in loud thirsty gulps as Cody helped hold the glass.

  Dillen met her gaze and spoke in a quiet tone, meant only for her. “It’s too dangerous for them here.”

  * * *

  All Dillen’s hopes had died today with one lump of sugar.

  After another fine meal and an hour’s leisure while they listened to Alice reading aloud from Treasure Island, Dillen sat with Bill by the fire as Alice put the boys to bed.

  He sat staring at the top log, half-consumed by the flames, blackened and glowing orange in places. His body rested, but his mind would not. Colin seemed to have already forgotten how close he had come to death. Meanwhile, Dillen would never forget.

  Up until this afternoon, Dillen thought he might just be able to keep the boys. With Alice here, this was almost like a real home. He had to remind himself that it was all make-believe.

  For heaven sakes, he didn’t know how to be a father. All he had ever learned from his own dad was how not to be a father. Loving them wasn’t enough to keep them safe.

  If Alice had not been here, Colin would have died today. He knew it, and the powerlessness consumed him.

  Alice settled beside him. “You look miles away.”

  Bill roused with a snort and glanced about. “Boys asleep?”

  Alice nodded.

  “Well, I’m off to bed. Got to trim those hooves tomorrow.” He shuffled toward the door and retrieved his coat. Dillen rose and turned to follow, but Alice clasped his hand and tugged. He glanced back at her. She lifted her brows and stared up at him as if expecting him to read her mind.

  He turned to Bill. “I’ll be right along.”

  Roberts hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay.”