Wild West Christmas: A Family for the Rancher / Dance with a Cowboy / Christmas in Smoke River

“Come back soon,” she whispered, and then withdrew, her hands retreating, her expression changing from wide-eyed need to the deferential demeanor of a proper lady. But for an instant he’d glimpsed her again, the woman he had fallen in love with. The one he had kissed. The passionate, free spirit she had become when she was with him.

Which woman was she?

Dillen watched her walk away. There was no sultry sway of her hips, just the clipped, sedate walk of a woman of means and character. A woman so far above him that he feared he’d just imagined that spark that flew between them like a hot ember jumping from one blazing roof to the next.

But his skin still tingled from her touch and his body shouted for him to advance. Instead he tucked his hat down tight and retreated as fast as his long legs could carry him.

Come back soon, she’d said. Lord, help me, because she could do so much better than my sorry hide.

As he reached the train station, he knew he couldn’t stay away from her. She was too sweet and he was too hungry. This would end badly for them both. Why the devil had she come here?

Chapter Four

Alice did not see Dillen the following day, nor the day after that.

While she waited for him to conclude his business, she wired her family of her safe arrival, penned her elder brother, Arthur, a letter and did some Christmas shopping for his daughters Harriet, age seven, and Lizzy, age nine. She had already finished her shopping for her younger brother, Edward’s, children, though her nieces would hardly notice the gifts since Amelia was only two and Lidia just seven months come December. Alice had always spent Christmas Eve at her grandfather’s home, a very elegant affair, the house open for all the right sort of people. Alice never enjoyed this part of the holidays. But afterward they would return to her parents’ more modest home and she would exchange gifts with both her brothers and their growing families. Christmas morning was spent attending church with her parents—though she wished she could be at her brother’s home in the morning when the girls woke and found what Santa had brought them, but understood that this was a private family time. Knowing so only made her long for a family of her own, for children with whom she could share the joy and innocence of those mornings.

She knew that Colin and Cody believed in Santa with their whole hearts. She managed to distract them with the help of the clerk so she had time to make several purchases for their stockings. The boys left the shop unknowingly carrying their own gifts, which made her smile. They were such good boys. Sylvia would be so proud. She sighed wistfully as Colin and Cody skipped along beside her on the snow-covered road. She needed to get these two to their uncle soon, for she feared that if she waited much longer she might not be able to give them up.

Alice returned to the hotel to inquire at the front desk if there were a message from Mr. Roach. Finding none, she went directly to the telegraph office to inquire there.

“No, ma’am” came the reply from the operator. “Did see him come through town yesterday, though. Had those two ponies. Fine looking pair. Oh, and no word yet from Chicago,” he said, smiling and nodding at Colin and Cody who peered up at him as he rested an elbow on the counter. “Going to visit your auntie, are you?” he asked.

Alice felt the tingle of cold as if ice crystals formed beneath her skin. She drew one boy to each side and swallowed back her dread.

Alice lowered her chin. “Pardon?”

“Mr. Roach wrote their great-aunt.” His grin dissolved. Perhaps he now recognized from her seething expression or the boys’ wide-eyed stares that they had not been privy to this information.

Ben Asher’s aunt had died some years back of a stroke. Alice did recall that Ben had two uncles, also deceased. Another possibility struck.

“He said Chicago?”

The telegraph operator drew back from the counter, hesitating now.

Alice patted Colin’s back as he clung to her skirts. “Would the name of this relative be McCrery, Ella McCrery?”

“I—I’m not...”

She gave him a scowl, fearing she might need to shout and she hated to shout. She took a step toward the counter, hampered by the clinging children.

He swallowed and then nodded. “Believe that’s right, though he said Edna.”

Alice drew a breath, praying for calm as her stomach roiled. “To what question did Mr. Roach seek reply?”

The operator’s bushy brows rose high on his shiny forehead, but he answered the question. “Whether she could take the boys.”

“I see.”

She returned to the hotel with her charges, who both had to jog to keep pace.

“Miss Alice?” asked Cody. “What’s happening?”

“We have to go see your Uncle Dillen.”

“But the man said he doesn’t want us.”

She didn’t know what to say, for she feared Cody’s concerns were valid. She looked at these two perfect little boys and wondered how anyone in the world could not want them. Why, she’d give anything to raise them up as her own. She had always loved them, but now that Sylvia was gone, that love had taken root deep inside her.

Alice straightened her spine. She had been put off once too often to make excuses for Dillen. Clearly he was avoiding her and doing all in his power to pack the children off. Alice saw only two choices. She could return to Omaha with the children or she could try one last time to convince Dillen Roach to honor his sister’s final request.

“Hush, now, let me think.”

Alice forced the anger down. The boys both looked frightened half to death, as if she might just hand them to a stranger. She stilled as she realized that was what she had been preparing to do, for clearly she did not know Dillen any longer. The man she once knew would not shirk his responsibility or ignore his duty to his family.

At the front desk, Alice spoke to the manager.

“How could I arrange transport to the Harvey ranch?”

He gave Alice the directions to the livery and the name of the gentleman to see. “If you’ve never driven a wagon or sleigh, then hire a driver, as well. And don’t set out without a rifle, food and blankets or furs. If you break a runner, you could be stuck for some time.”

This bit of advice made Alice’s knees wobble, but she reminded herself of her mission. Plus a sleigh ride in the wilderness might be an excellent way to test her mettle.

One hour later, lunched and dressed in their warmest clothing, she and Colin sat in the second seat of a sleigh. Cody preferred to sit with the driver, Mr. Donald Miller, an aged livery hand with a round face, a high forehead and tufted gray hair peeking out from beneath a green knit cap. He held a pipe perpetually clamped between his teeth and his beard was cut in the manner of Puritans, so he reminded Alice of a New England whaling captain. Though the broken blood vessels on his nose and cheeks seemed to indicate that, unlike the Puritan he resembled, Mr. Miller indulged in spirits.

The wind whistled and the runners hissed as the horse trotted in a well-worn groove of packed snow. Despite the hot bricks and blankets, Alice’s toes were icy and her cheeks numb. She was saved from inquiring regarding the remaining distance by Cody, who asked the driver that exact question at regular intervals.

According to the last report they were already on the ranch, though it looked no different than the pine forest they had traversed for the past several miles since leaving the town of Blue River Junction. Colin spotted a wooden fence with even split wood planks nailed to upright posts. Alice craned her neck and was rewarded with a glimpse of the sloping peaked roof of a barn. They crested a rise and she realized that what she had assumed was the side of the barn was, in fact, the front. The barn was easily four times as large as she had first imagined. Alice’s gaze swept the unbroken expanse of snow that covered the open ground. Pastures, she realized, and beyond them, she spotted a long outbuilding squatting parallel to the barn, and on the top of the next rise the rustic yet expansive log ranch house.

This was not what Alice had expected, but still bore proof that Dillen had managed to achieve his ambitions alone. She closed her eyes at the evidence of his success.

He was not a veterinarian, as he had wished, but owned property and livestock. Alice lifted her head and stared. She was looking at the home he had carved out for himself in a mere two years. A home suitable for a family—perfect, in fact. He clearly had the means to support a wife. And if the curl of blue smoke coming from the chimney of the bunkhouse was any indication, he had hired hands, as well.

If she had not committed a lie of omission when she’d repeatedly failed to tell him who she actually was, would he have stayed? Was it the lie or her that he could not abide?

Alice settled back in her seat feeling suddenly so ill she feared she might lose the little lunch she had managed.

“Here we are,” called Miller. “Shall I wait?”

“Yes, most certainly. Please take us to the house.”

“Don’t see no smoke,” said Mr. Miller as he complied.

Alice had to grasp Colin, who seemed to be preparing to leap from the moving sleigh. The instant the horse stopped, Cody was on the long covered porch, his boot heels tapping like a woodpecker on a tree as he charged for the front door. Alice hurried after him, gripping Colin’s wrist as he tried to catch up with his older brother.

“Wait up,” cried Colin.

“I want to see the horses,” called Cody, already lifting his hand to pound on the front door as he sang out, “Uncle Dillen! We’ve come a-calling!”

Around the side of the building came a lanky older man with a limp. He peered at them with vivid blue eyes and skin as brown and furrowed as a peach pit. His gaunt face was balanced by a thick gray-and-white mustache and his jaw was covered with stubble.

“Can I help you folks?”

“Yes, sir. We would like to see the owner,” said Alice.

“Oh, well, I’m Bill Roberts, the foreman. Maybe I can help.”

“I’d prefer to speak to the owner.”

Roberts pushed back the brim of his battered cowboy hat and wiped his forehead with a gloved hand. “Well, he ain’t here. Won’t be up this way again until summer.”

Her heart sank at this bit of news. Had Dillen left her and the boys behind without a backward glance? “Are you saying that Mr. Roach has relocated?”

“Roach? Oh, no, ma’am. He’s here. You must be Miss Truett? He’s mentioned you.” Roberts extended his hand and Alice clasped it briefly. “He’s in the barn with the horses.”

“I’d like to see him, please.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll fetch him. Let me just get you and the young’uns inside.” He proceeded to bring them into the entrance hall and then to a grand open living area that stretched up two floors and had a fieldstone fireplace with kindling and logs set out for a fire. The room was freezing, and Alice could see her own breath. If possible, it seemed colder inside than out. The room was filled with the work of a taxidermist, and the furniture was shrouded with white sheets to keep off dust. This was no way for a man to live, even if he was a bachelor.

From the walls, dead animals stared blankly as Roberts labored at the hearth a few moments with hands swollen with rheumatism. Alice worried he was not up to the task. She considered offering assistance but feared insulting the man, so she drew the boys in tight, wrapping them between the coat and her body as they all watched and shivered in the cold. At long last he succeeded in striking a match and the flames caught, curling over the dry wood.

“Should warm up directly.” He tipped his hat and limped off toward the entrance. A moment later the door clicked shut.

“Look at the moose head!” said Cody, pointing at the trophy above the mantel.

Alice frowned. Had Dillen shot that poor creature or paid good money for a stuffed head?

“And there’s a bearskin rug,” said Cody, now dancing from one wonder to another. He petted the mountain-goat hide draped on the sofa and knelt to peek under the sheet at the chair fashioned from brown-and-white cowhide and bull horns. Finally he marveled at the chandelier, which was a rustic combination of elk horns and lanterns.

Dillen had all this and still he felt he could not provide a home for these two orphaned boys? The man should be ashamed. The room heated Alice’s blood. She had not come seeking a fight, merely some explanation. But her purpose had changed.

Dillen appeared a few moments later smelling of horse and sweat. Even disheveled and flushed, his mere appearance caused her pulse to pound and her heart to race as if she were the one who had just run here from the barn. She stood stupefied as his eyes met hers. For just a moment she forgot why she had come and what she was doing here. Then he looked at the boys and his brow furrowed in obvious displeasure. Cody dropped the front paw of the bearskin rug and straightened as Colin inched closer to her. In that instant, she recalled her mission.

Dillen’s generous mouth went tight. He looked less than pleased to see them. It was a new experience for her. Of all the emotions she had secretly hoped her arrival in Blue River Junction would elicit from this man, ire was not among them. In that instant she knew that she should never have come to the ranch. He had made it clear how he felt, and he had explained about the mix-up over the telegrams. He had further asked her to wait and she had, but... Alice’s heart sank. She had every reason to believe that he had forgotten her once more. She knew she was forgettable. Alice was too timid to be memorable. It was only her father’s acclaim and her mother’s money that made her attractive to some. If it were not for Sylvia’s boys, she most certainly would have boarded the very next train and departed, tail between her legs. Still, she had hoped that absence had made the heart grow fonder.

Clearly it had not.

“Alice, what in blue blazes? I asked you to wait in town.”

“Yes, I know. And we have. But you sent no word.”

“So you come all the way out here in the dead of winter? It’s dangerous. Alice, why?”

Because I feared you had forgotten me again. Because I am a fool. She said none of this, of course. Instead she ushered the two boys toward the fireplace with a gentle hand on each one’s small back, and then retreated to the far side of the room. He followed. She slid one arm into each of the opposite sleeves of the mink as she hugged herself and faced him.

When she spoke her voice was low, for she did not want the boys to hear. “I am sorry to interrupt your work. Certainly it must be difficult to run such a large ranch. But you told me that you have no place suitable for the boys and yet...”

He moved closer. He smelled of the horses and she saw the short dark horsehair that clung to his sheepskin jacket and gloves.

“Yet?” he asked.

“I see you have a large house and the means to care for them here.”

Dillen’s brow lowered over his dark eyes and his gaze shifted to take in the room before returning to her. He set his teeth together with a snap and Alice hugged herself more closely. The mink ruff brushed her cheeks.

“Are you seeking a housekeeper, perhaps? Is that the delay? Someone to look after the boys while you work?”

“They can’t stay here,” he said, and glanced to the door as if anxious to see her back.

“It seems a perfectly suitable environment to raise two boys.”

“No,” he said, with no further explanation.

Her stomach roiled now, and she was quite anxious to leave. But she remembered her promise.

“Mr. Roach, I am aware that you have written to a relative of your sister’s husband. I fear that you are, therefore, unwilling to acquiesce to your sister’s wishes. I could help you obtain a housekeeper to see to them so they are not underfoot.”

“No,” he said, glaring now.

She fumed, lowering her chin and matching his cold stare. “Mr. Roach, is it your intention, then, to ignore your sister’s dying request?”

“They can’t stay here.”

“And why not?”

“It’s not my house.”

Chapter Five

There. He’d said it. Dillen had told her the truth and then watched the shock take her back a step as her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Not yours?” Alice echoed.

“I don’t own it. I never said that I did own it. I’m a hired hand working under Bill Roberts for Alan Harvey. Harvey is the owner. He’s a banker. Works in Denver and only comes up here in the summer to enjoy the mountains. All this is a second home. Can you believe that? Calls it his mountain retreat.”

“But I thought...” Her words trailed off.

“No. Not mine. That’s why they can’t stay. I don’t have permission to have children here, and even if I got it, I’ll not have them living in a bunkhouse, eating beans and bacon. No school out here and no other kids, just work—hard work.”

“I see.” Alice slipped her arms from her sleeves and extended one hand to him, clasping his wrist. “I’ve misjudged you.”

Yes, he knew she had. He didn’t know which was worse, having her think he didn’t want his own kin or having her realize he was unable to care for them.

“I’m sorry, Alice. I’m no further ahead than when I left you. I just can’t seem to get a foothold.”

“I’m sure it must be difficult, all on your own.”

Difficult didn’t begin to cover it. But he had his pride and would not detail his various financial failures.

“You know, my father was the son of a brewer. He comes from simple roots.”

What he knew was that her father was one of the most accomplished and sought-after physicians in Omaha.

“When my mother chose my father, my grandfather was less than pleased with her selection. You see, my father didn’t have his license then, just ambitions and intelligence. But she knew what he could become, and she married him against their wishes. It was only after my brother was born that my grandfather relented, paying for my father’s schooling. After my father passed the boards, my mother brought him his first patients. You see?”

Dillen had a hard time thinking when she touched him, but he could not understand what the devil she was talking about.

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m just saying that sometimes a man needs help to establish that foothold.”

His expression went sour.

“There is no shame in asking for help.”

“There is nothing but shame in it. You don’t know me at all.” He stared at her wide-eyed confusion. How could he make her understand? “I don’t take handouts.”

Alice felt his arm tense and slid her hand down until she clasped his.

“But we are not discussing you. We are discussing what is best for the boys. Perhaps you could wire Mr. Harvey and explain the changes in your domestic responsibilities. He might very well let you occupy this house until he returns.”

Dillen chewed on that for a moment. A rich woman would think nothing of such a request. But Mr. Harvey was his employer, not his friend or his social equal. But Harvey was also a father. He might allow it, and Dillen could assure him that he’d take the best of care of this place and secure a new arrangement for his family, God knew what, before his boss’s arrival. He let the possibility glimmer before him like moonlight on calm waters before the problems rushed in.

“Do it for their sakes, Dillen,” she whispered, and his pride melted away. He glanced to the boys, standing side by side, hands clasped, staring up at the buffalo head mounted above the mantel. He looked to Alice, dropping his voice.

“Even if he went for that, I can’t watch over them. I got work and they need tending.”

“So your trouble is not a lack of wanting these boys, but a fear that you are not up to the task?”

He stared at her as he wrestled with the truth. “I want them.”

Alice smiled. “This is a great relief to me.”

“A relief? How do you figure?”

“Well, for a time there, I feared you did not want them and that you were avoiding us.”

“Amounts to the same thing.”

“Would you be willing to ask Mr. Harvey’s permission?”

“Alice...the boys are young. Wanting them isn’t enough. They need a mother.”

Her eyes twinkled in a way that he recalled, and he found himself staring at her mouth again.

“If it would be of assistance, I could stay for a few weeks, help you and the boys adjust to a new situation. But I must be home with my family for Christmas Eve.”

Dillen drew back his hand and shoved it in his pocket. “No.”

She gave an exasperated sigh and flapped her arms. “Why not?”

He gave a harsh laugh and met her narrowing green eyes. Still, he told her the truth.

“Alice, you can’t run a household.”

“And why, pray tell, would you reach that conclusion?”

He knew he should hold back, but he didn’t, just charged ahead like the damned fool he was. “You’ve been pampered and coddled your whole life. You’ve never rubbed your knuckles raw on a washboard. Why, you don’t know the first thing about raising two boys.”

“I seemed to have managed until now.”

“I’m not talking about ordering room service or tucking up at a table when you are called to tea. I’m talking about real work. The kind you’ve never done. You walk around in that armor.” He motioned to her mink coat and hat and the elegant dress he glimpsed beneath. “You wear gold rings on your fingers and tortoise combs in your hair. What do you know about work?”

“I know how to run a household, Mr. Roach.”

“You know how to manage a household, not run one. There are no servants here.”

“As I am quite aware.” Her face was now flushed and her eyes glimmered as she took up the challenge. She actually raised her voice, remembered herself and lowered it to a rasping whisper, which made him straighten up and take notice. “I may lack experience, but I am here and offering you aid. If you won’t allow me to help you, then please consider what is best for them.” She motioned to Colin and Cody, both now studying the stuffed head of a pronghorn antelope mounted between the front windows.

Dillen followed the direction of her gaze and felt his conviction waver. “I can see to these boys and run this house,” she assured.

“It won’t work,” he said, but his words now lacked conviction.

She stared at him, taking his measure and, no doubt, finding him lacking. “You won’t know unless you try. I can stay here for three weeks. That will give you time to become acquainted, time for them to become familiar with you and time for you to see if this will work or if they would be better off elsewhere.”

He met the accusation in her gaze. “Aunt Alma, for instance?”

She blew out her breath like a dragon spewing fire. “Ben’s only living relation is the sister-in-law of his grandfather and her name is Ella McCrery. Ella. I discussed this with your sister, and Sylvia was of the opinion that her age—she is in her eighties—precluded her from taking on such a responsibility. You were not her only choice, Dillen, but you were her best choice. Like it or not, you now have custody of Sylvia’s children and must do what you see fit. Either way, I will have delivered them to you. That ends my duty to my dearest friend. My offer is not for her sake or for yours, but for the boys.” She tugged her gloves on more securely. “So, Mr. Roach, will you accept my help or will you not?”

The silence in the room stretched and yawned. Dillen scrubbed his face with both hands and then spoke. “I’ll wire Harvey and ask if you three can stay in the ranch house until Christmas.”

Her expression held such joy and pride that he swallowed back his trepidation as Alice launched forward into his arms.

“Oh, Mr. Roach. Thank God!”

She squeezed him so tight that he felt the soft curve of her breasts pressed to him and the ridged sheath of her corset against his middle. He didn’t know how it happened because one minute she was holding his face in both her gloved hands and the next his arms were about her and he was bending her backward over his arm as he kissed her full on the mouth. She gave a startled cry, which parted her lips and he took advantage again. His body burned as her arms went about his neck and she strained to deepen the kiss. Their tongues danced and she gave a low moan that ripped through him like a spear point. His body grew hot and hard, ready for this woman he could never forget.