Max’s jaw dropped when all of the women who’d been in Peregrines’ Post the day Birdie collapsed did the same thing as the matchmaker. They poked and prodded the bachelors into conversing with them and not Robyn. His stomach plummeted along with his hopes for Robyn to have a good time when the women’s husbands did the same thing to every man who approached Robyn.
“They’re ruining Robyn’s evening,” Max said in dismay.
“I’d say they’re making it.”
He huffed. “They’re making it impossible for her to converse with new people and—”
“Possible fer her to do what she really wants. Spend time with you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can ’n I do, Maximilian Boy. I see what our friends see. You ’n Robyn are meant fer each other. And this”—Gus gestured to the townsfolk’s interference—“is Noelle’s gift to the pair of you.”
When both Culver and Ezra—who’d told him earlier that they owed him favors—gave him a salute and joined the throng distracting the bachelors, Max realized his grandfather was right.
“But you agreed to help me ensure Robyn danced with lots of partners and—”
Gus elbowed him in the side and whispered, “Wake up ’n pay attention to the treasure inside the gift wrapping.”
When Robyn halted in front of him, he released the breath he’d been holding and let the happiness, that always surged in his veins when she was near, flow unrestrained.
Her eyes shone brighter than her dress, her hat, all of the candles in the room, and every star in the sky outside. But her smile looked sad.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted.
Her smile disappeared completely. “For what?”
“For you not getting to experience this party as fully as you should.”
“Balderdash,” Gus said as his gaze went to Agatha. “We’re both sorry fer not payin’ proper attention to the ladies who brighten our lives.”
Robyn grabbed Gus’ hand. “Aggie said she hopes to speak with you tonight, Bon-papa.”
“She did?” Gus’ spine straightened. “She does?”
“Why did you two stop talking?” she asked Gus. When her gaze went from Gus to him, he wasn’t so certain who she’d asked.
“Because,” Gus muttered, “no bride needs a husband who can’t remember how he messed up their union. Aggie ’n I were about to say our vows ’n then—” He groaned. “Well, I can’t remember what happened.”
Max forced himself to speak with a confidence he didn’t feel. “And now you have the opportunity to start over, Grandpa.” He hoped this was his chance for the same.
“I’ll tell her—” Gus shook Robyn’s hand, still holding his, excitedly. “No, I’ll ask her to forgive me. And then I’ll give her a sock.” Gus yanked the last sack from Max and set Robyn’s hand in his instead.
His fingers instinctively tightened around hers. When hers did the same, he grinned like a fool.
“Fortune favors the bold, Maximilian Boy,” Gus called over his shoulder as he strode toward Agatha—through a crowd where every man who’d tried to talk to Robyn remained engaged in a conversation with someone else.
But for how long?
He needed to say the right words and quick. He ran his hand over his bearded chin and down his throat, trying to ease the sudden dryness parching his throat. Then he raked his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it. He hadn’t had time to spruce up his appearance like Bryn had advised him to do back in Denver.
Robyn’s gaze followed his movements then stopped dead center on his chest. “You look handsome in your suit.”
Thank the Lord for Gus. Without him, Max might have forgotten to wear the darned thing.
When she continued to stare at his chest as if mesmerized, Max’s gaze dropped to see what held her attention. He found his hand pressing her palm to his heart like a lovesick suitor.
“You’re the shining star of the party,” he blurted.
She flashed him a smile that made his world even brighter. “I don’t know about that, but I find wearing this new skirt is manageable. Birdie calls it a split skirt. I call it a pair of wide-legged trousers. I can handle that better than a dress.” When she leaned closer to him like they were fellow conspirators, his breath stalled in his throat. “This is the perfect compromise.”
“You’re perfect, Red Bird.”
“No, Red Beard. You are.” The intensity in her voice startled him.
His free hand rose and tried to smooth his beard. “I should’ve shaved.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” she growled.
“I’m not. I was told that if I wanted to compete with the Noelle bachelors, I’d have to shave.”
Robyn gasped. “You can’t.” She tried to yank his hand away from his beard, but when he pressed her palm to his face they both froze. Except for her fingers. They hesitantly explored his beard, the line of his jaw, and then almost touched his—
He shifted his jaw so her fingertips brushed his lips.
Her eyes flared and sparked like blue fire.
“You were saying?” He spoke only to have the excuse to move his lips against her fingers. “Something about my beard?”
“Oh. Yes. Well… If you really wanted to, you could shave it. You really shouldn’t want to, though. Because then I won’t have a reason to call you Red Beard.”
“You could call me something else.” Like husband. We could wake up together every morning and— He shook his head. None of that could happen. She was going back to Denver, and he was staying in Noelle.
A frown pinched her brow. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled her hands away from his face and his heart. He held them in the space between them, but didn’t let go. He’d have to soon. But not yet. “It’s a good thing we had this talk because I’d have made a mistake if I had more time.”
“Don’t ever change,” she whispered fiercely.
“But you wanted to—”
“And I ruined our friendship.”
“You can change your clothing, your hair, how you talk, or even how much you talk to me, but you can never change the way I feel about you. You’re my best friend. You always will be.”
An ear-splitting screech cut off whatever reply she might have said. The screech came again and again. It sounded like someone was murdering a fiddle.
On the stage the townsfolk had set up for the entertainers, a man was doing just that.
“Poor little instrument,” Robyn muttered.
He grimaced. “If its strings snapped, it’d be a merciful end.”
Robyn snorted. “She’ll snap him first.”
The crowd parted to let the she in question through.
Lark, with Bryn in her wake, stormed like an avenging angel straight for the violin’s cry for help. Her long black hair flew behind her like a flag guiding a warrior to battle.
“Now there is the woman I remember,” Robyn said in a voice full of awe.
“I thought you didn’t like her.”
“If she hurts Bryn again, I’ll hate her again. But you can’t dislike this. Wait and see.”
But when Lark reached the man torturing the instrument, and his audience, she froze as if suddenly afraid. Bryn didn’t. He leapt onto the stage and yanked the fiddle from its abuser. Everyone dropped their hands from their ears and sighed in relief.
When Bryn held out the violin for Lark to take, she shrank back and covered her throat. Bryn’s shocked expression turned fierce. He snarled something that at this distance couldn’t be heard.
But Lark heard him. And despite Bryn’s outrage, or maybe because of it, she smiled. Like she hadn’t smiled in years and might never get the chance again.
She also climbed onto the stage, unassisted and uncoerced, and took the violin from Bryn. The instrument rejoiced in her hands. The music flowed and soared as happy as a meadowlark in the springtime. Or a man and a woman in love.
Max clutched Robyn’s hands tighter. The melody expressed how
he felt with her by his side. Alive.
Robyn’s sigh sounded forlorn. “Her playing has this effect on everyone.”
He doubted it. If he hadn’t fallen in love with Robyn, he wouldn’t feel even a fraction of what he felt now.
“Lark’s music speaks to lost souls, but she won’t add singing to tonight’s performance. Something’s wrong with her throat.” Robyn’s eyes narrowed with the determination of someone who planned to find out exactly what. “She’s amazing with the fiddle, but nothing compares to her talent with the hurdy-gurdy.”
The hurdy-what? He bit back the question. Whatever it was, wasn’t as important as the scene unfolding around them. Everyone turned from the stage in search of dance partners. The bachelors stared at Robyn with renewed vigor.
Fortune favors the bold. We can’t change the past. We can only change the future.
And he desperately needed one last memory with Robyn to get him through his future without her. “Will you show me how to dance again?”
He prayed the again part wouldn’t ruin whatever happened next.
Chapter 18
Dancing with Max, standing so close and moving as one, Robyn had never been happier and sadder. This couldn’t last. She fought the urge to clutch him tight and never let go. That wouldn’t be ladylike. More importantly, that wouldn’t give Max, or his family or hers, what they needed.
It’d just confuse the heck out of everyone since they’d more often than not watched her wiggle like a fish to escape embraces.
At least that had changed. From now on, she’d hug wholeheartedly. But she’d never dance with anyone again. Not after this. Not when she and Max moved so perfectly together.
“I need to tell you something.” He sounded like he’d rather do anything but talk.
Here it comes. The big decision her brothers had warned her about during their walk to the saloon. What Max wanted to tell her was too immense. Too life changing. Too heart shattering.
Her mind scrambled for a different topic. A small one. Which wasn’t difficult. Every subject felt like a tiny snowflake under the cloud of what he would tell her. And what she must tell him.
Later. Right now, she wanted to pretend they could spend all of their tomorrows dancing and making each other smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me that, like Brynmor, you could’ve taught me to dance in Denver?”
The startled look in his eyes narrowed with apprehension. He’d known this question was coming.
“Because I haven’t danced in a while. I wasn’t sure I’d remember the steps.”
“You’re an even better dancer than Bryn.” Her compliment didn’t make him smile like she’d hoped.
“I doubt that. Your brother learned not very long ago. I learned a very long time ago. So, if I’m any good, it’s because you’re my partner.”
His compliment made her smile. And when she did, he did too.
“Who taught you?”
His expression turned somber. “My grandmother.”
“I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too.”
“Gus and Jack said she taught you to knit as well. There are so many things we’ve yet to discuss.” Her throat tightened. And our time is running out.
“You’re not upset that we didn’t discuss this sooner? Like you were with Brynmor?”
She shrugged. “We all have reasons for doing things. Or not doing them.”
“I would’ve gladly attempted to teach you to dance. In Denver if I’d known you wanted to learn back then. Or here in Noelle if I’d—” He frowned, then exhaled a long, resigned breath. “If I had the courage to broach the subject.” His straightened his shoulders as he muttered, “Fortune favors the bold.”
Their reprieve was over. Their dancing became stiff. Their steps faltered.
“I’ve decided to stay in Noelle and run its office.” His words came in a flurry, as if he worried that if he didn’t talk fast he wouldn’t be able to speak at all.
Seeking to steady him and herself, she laid her palm against his face and his beloved red beard. “I know.”
“You do? How?”
She raised her brows slowly. “How do you think?”
“Your brothers told you.” His muscles relaxed, then sagged with defeat.
She felt her body do the same. She forced her shoulders as straight as his had been a moment ago. “And then I told them something.” It was time to tell Max as well. “I’m staying in Noelle so you can return to Denver and the office you’ve worked too hard to give up.”
“No.” His shook his head fiercely. “No, you can’t.”
She trapped his face between her hands and held him still. Unfortunately, that meant they stopped dancing. At least he was looking at her and hopefully also listening to her.
“I can,” she said softly and then firmly, “And I will. It’s my choice.”
He squeezed shut his eyes, rejecting her decision. The same as she’d rejected his.
But he also leaned into her touch like he couldn’t stand without her. “There’s not enough work for you and all of your brothers in Noelle.”
“That’s why two of them will go with you, and one will stay with me. And they’ll routinely trade locations so we both get to spend time with each of them.”
Max’s breath hissed between his teeth like she’d punched him in the gut. “But not with each other. They agreed to this?”
“Yes, unless…”
His eyes opened and watched her warily. “Unless what?”
“My brothers are very confusing men.”
The line of his jaw hardened under her hands, but a smile also twitched his lips. “What I find works best is if I hear what they said exactly.”
“Unless Dog Bone can make a different proposal.” She felt her cheeks flush as she said the word proposal.
The heat that flared in his eyes made her entire body burn.
“Then they rambled on about choosing with our hearts and nothing else.” She growled in frustration, knowing she was also rambling. “They apologized profusely for being tyrants who always tried to tell me what to do. Which is peculiar because what they said made me feel like they were now telling me and you what to do.”
The strength of his smile combined with the intensity of his gaze, stole her breath. “When you look at me like this,” she whispered, “it feels like all my dreams have come true.”
“I’m ready to make my proposal.” Neither his expression nor his voice wavered as he spoke. “My heart’s choice is that you and I work together forever.”
“You proposing”—the uncertainty that welled up inside her throat made it hard to speak—“a business venture?”
“Red Bird, is there anyone in this room that you’d still like to try dancing with?”
“No, of course not.” She scowled at him. “There’s only you.”
“Then this is my proposal.” He dropped down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”
She flung arms around his neck. “Yes.”
His breath heated her ear as he whispered, “How about marrying me, right here and now?”
She gasped in delight. “This is where the twelve brides and grooms were married last year. And Reverend Hammond is here tonight. He could marry us right now.”
They both scrambled upright and searched for him.
When she saw him across the room, she waved like a madwoman or the happiest woman on earth, trying to get his attention. When he didn’t look her way, she put her fingers to her lips and released a shrill whistle.
Lark’s violin playing halted. So did the dancing and all conversation.
“Reverend!” they both shouted, then grinned at each other.
Despite her overwhelming happiness, she shook her head at her behavior. “That wasn’t very ladylike of me,” she muttered to Max.
“But it was you. And me. Being ourselves.” He raised his chin and yelled even louder this time, “Reverend, we’d like you to marry us.”
“Right now,”
Robyn hollered.
A cheer went up. Suddenly, her brothers were slapping Max on the back. And Gus, followed by Agatha and Jasper and Ezra, were hugging her. And she was hugging them back.
Then Bryn’s big arm looped around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. “I guess Dog Bone has finally decided who’s staying in Noelle.”
“We both decided,” Robyn said, then laughed as she surveyed the smiling faces of their family and friends clustering ’round them. “We all decided.”
Griff frowned. “I won’t enjoy not seeing you every day, Little Red.”
“But at least,” Hedd said, “she’ll talk to us when we do see her.”
Max’s smile remained steadfast. “You’ll always be welcome to visit us in Noelle.”
“But only one at a time.” Hedd waved his index finger in the air.
“This time I’ll make sure,” Griff vowed, “that at least one of us is always holding the reins in Denver.”
Like a quake rattling a mountain, Bryn’s sigh shook his chest and her as she leaned against him. “This will be the last time the Peregrine and Llewellyn families are all together.”
His observation filled her with melancholy then dismay. “Jack and Birdie aren’t here. We can’t get married without them.”
Reverend Hammond finally reached them. He beamed as happily as his wife who held his arm. “So it’s time for another wedding, is it?”
“Only if you can—” She spun to face Max.
When he held out his hand to her, Bryn dropped his arm from her shoulders and she went eagerly into his embrace.
Then Max finished what she’d been about to say. “Can you marry us at Jack and Birdie’s new house?”
“I can.” The reverend chuckled. “But can you wait to get there? You seem awful impatient.”
“If you all jumped in a wagon,” Jasper suggested, “you’d get there faster,”
“We didn’t bring one,” Gus grumbled. “We weren’t in a rush when we walked here.”
“Not everyone walked.” Agatha stood close to Gus. “There are several wagons outside.”
“You should take ours.” Ezra grinned at Max. “You’ve already had practice driving our team so they should get you home extra fast.”
Robyn- A Christmas Bride Page 14