Western Kisses – Old West Christmas Romances (Boxed Set) (3 page)

A year later, while I struggled to survive, my lungs filling with choking mucus, my love had been stolen away. While I lay infirm, Cybele had charmed him. Her father owned the Houston Lumber Yard, and they were one of the premiere families in town, which appealed to William’s father, who prided himself on being an astute and upwardly mobile businessman.

After I had recovered, he had come to see me, bravely gazing upon my face, although it was painfully obvious he no longer considered me the most beautiful girl in town. There were stars in his eyes still, but they were for Cybele. As with so many of the dreams I once had, this one died that day, as did all the others, until there were none left. I had accepted that I would never marry, nor have children, and I had thought I had made peace with it. But, the desire for romantic love continued to prick me. It was like the scab over a sore that would not heal.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I whispered. “At least you have your life. So many died. Be grateful you suffered the lesser of the infections.” When I had been diagnosed, there were others in town who had also contracted the disease, but theirs was worse, with larger pustules and bruising beneath the skin. They had all perished as a result.

Mother had said, “God spared you, Willow. Through His grace, you’re alive, my dear. Whenever you gaze upon yourself from this day out, you must remember how lucky you are.”

I hated giving in to these moments of self-pity, but they were a weakness I had yet to master. I tried my best to appear unaffected by my condition. I knew I was lucky. Even the doctor had found my recovery nothing short of miraculous, especially considering that everyone around me had perished. None of my family had died, nor my friends. There was no reason to be melancholy, even though the boy I had loved had found happiness elsewhere. I would have to carve out my own life wherever I could.

Taking a deep breath, I gazed at the greenness of the vegetable garden, glimpsing the perfection of the cucumbers and tomatoes. Beauty came in many forms, and, although I might not look the way I ought to, I could still find something to admire, even in the mirror.

“Willow!” called Ellen. “These mince pies won’t make themselves.”

“Sorry.” I hurried towards her. “I needed some air.”

“I’ll open a window in the kitchen.”

I laughed, surprised that I wasn’t unhappy now, especially after witnessing William and Cybele’s tender reunion. Taking a moment to remember to be grateful had alleviated the pity. I would be far too busy over the course of the afternoon to bother with these useless emotions anyhow.

As the suppertime crowd began to file in, dozens of small mince pies, hidden within a thick, flaky crust were ready for consumption. These were filled with tender beef, vegetables, and a sauce that held hints of lemon brandy, cloves, and other seasonings. It was one of my favorite recipes and easy to dole out, because each person was given a plate with a pie and collard greens. The hardy fare was surprisingly filling. Dessert was baked Indian Pudding, which we had also made in advance. Each diner received a large ladle of the softened, sweetened mixture with a dollop of heavy cream.

Ellen stacked the dishes, wiping her hands on an apron. “I’m goin’ to eat now. We’ll start on these in a bit. Come sit with me.”

Exhausted, I held a cup of coffee. “Goodness, I’m tired.”

“There are pies left over. Have one.”

“I will.”

She drove a fork through the browned crust, bringing a heaping morsel to her mouth, while chewing. “Hum….”

“Is it good?”

“Ommm…”

“I guess that’s an affirmative answer,” I laughed.

“I try not to be jealous of you.”

“What?”

“I thought I was skilled in the kitchen. I’ve mastered sausages and sauerkraut and any variety of breads, but you’ve a natural ability with seasonings, girl. Even the simplest sauces you make have more than one taste. It’s the strangest thing.”

I shrugged. “You can’t go wrong with cinnamon. It’s my secret weapon.”

“Yes, but too much ruins it, and you can’t taste too little. That takes skill.”

“I suppose.” A shadow appeared in the doorway, startling me.

Mr. Hindman stood with his hat in his hands. “Miss Brady. Might I have a word?”

I got to my feet. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

It was odd, but I wasn’t self-conscious about my face at the moment, worrying more that I had ruined his pie. Ellen cared less about this recent development, concentrating on the food before her. We stood in the hallway, as the noise from the dining room reached us.

“I wanted to thank you for the excellent meal.” His grin was pleasing, although it wrinkled his face. “I wish I could stay longer, but I’m leaving in the morning. I’ve decided to give prospecting a try. I might strike it rich.”

“I wish you luck, sir.”

“I’m going to miss your cooking. It’s the best I’ve ever had in my life.”

That was quite a compliment. “Thank you.”

“When I come back, I hope I can stay here again.” He glanced in the direction of the dining room. “Lots of folks like this place. The beds aren’t too lumpy. There’s no bedbugs that I can tell and the water’s clear. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“I’m glad you’ve found your stay here pleasant.”

“It is.” His gaze was upon me. “It’s been real nice talking to you, Willow. You’re a shy little thing, but I’m hoping once you get to know me, that’ll change.” There was a husky timbre in his tone, which I had not heard before.

I stared at him, wondering at the strange tingle in my belly. “I-I’m not as shy around family, sir.”

“Maybe one day, you’ll consider me family?” I wasn’t sure how I would respond to that, and, while I was tongue-tied and flustered, he grinned. “You take care now, you hear?”

“I will.”

He placed the hat on his head, hiding unruly, thick hair. “Time for some shuteye. It’s been a long day.” With that, he strode down the hall, taking a set of stairs and disappearing from sight.

Leona sat on the edge of the bed, her expression thoughtful. “You never did say what you and Mr. Hindman talked about.”

My hair was in my hands, being braided. “Not much really.”

“He’s handsome in a miner sort of way, don’t you think?”

“A miner sort of way?” I laughed. “What does that mean?”

“In a hardworking, rough way. He’s been outdoors a great deal.”

“Most men are.”

“It’s unfortunate he’s married. I thought he might ask to court you. It’s always a shame when the good ones are taken.”

“His wife died, Leona. That’s why he came west.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” She bit her lip. “Well…that’s interesting…”

“It doesn't matter. He’s gone now.”

“I know, but he’ll come back. Once he’s done looking for gold, he’ll be around again.”

“Why that should be a concern of mine, escapes me completely.”

“Can’t you see it?”

“See what?”

“He’s in love with your cooking. It’s only a matter of time before you charm him with your personality.”

I laughed heartily, the sound filling the room.

“Now, why are you chortling like a fish monger? I mean what I say. I’ve been observing men most of my life. He’s sweet on you.”

I laughed even louder now.

She pushed me playfully. “Stop that! You’ll wake everyone!”

“It’s not my love life you should be worried about. You’re in need of your own beau, Leona.”

“Bosh.” She stood, wandering over to the mirror. “There’s no one in town who interests me.”

“What about Dusty Makepeace or John Harman? They’re suitable candidates.”

“No, thank you.” She held a brush, peering at the ivory handle. “John’s going east soon and Dusty’s prone to drinking.”

“What about Pastor Lloyd’s son, Benjamin? He’s a fine fellow.”

“He’s smitten with Penny Cook.”

“She’s a babbling fool. I’ve never met someone so senseless.”

“That’s not what he thinks.” Leona began to pull the pins out of her hair. “None of these miners are staying. There are some handsome ones, but who’s to say how many of them have wives at home? They’re happy to play and flirt, but they won’t make a girl a serious offer, you know that. I’m in no mood to be trifled with by someone who’s dishonest.”

“I agree.”

“I want someone unencumbered and ready to settle in Cripple Creek. I’ve no desire to leave.”

“Every girl should have her standards.”

“What are yours?”

I hadn’t even given it a thought, as I knew I would never marry. “I…the same as anyone else’s. Truthfulness, dependability, a pleasant demeanor, and the like. Those sorts of things.”

“I certainly don’t wish to marry someone who has an eye for all the ladies or spends his evening at the saloon. No, thank you.”

“Me either.”

She yawned. “I’m going to bed.”

“Have you chosen what you’ll wear to church tomorrow?”

“Not yet. I’ll do it in the morning.”

I fluffed a pillow behind my head. “I’m looking forward to an easy day.”

“Me too. Let’s say our prayers and turn the lamp down.”

Ellen and I had made an assortment of breads and pastries for the Sunday breakfast, which could be eaten with chunks of ham. A large cauldron of soup, with enough meat and vegetables, would satisfy the boarders well enough for dinner. This was how we managed the meals on Sunday, giving us a much-needed respite.

After waking, I dressed in a plaid, silk taffeta morning dress, with a matching bonnet. While Leona parted her hair down the center and worked the tresses into a bun, I fastened my half boots, readying myself to go down. Ma and pa waited below, as laughter and talking spilled from the dining room. Ellen had brought out the breads and pastries, feeding everyone without our assistance.

“You girls look handsome,” said pa, who had donned breeches and a pressed sack coat. He normally wore overalls, as he was working in the attic, but he would never dress like that for church. “Shall we.” He pointed to the door.

Ma breezed by. “Don’t forget your bonnet, Leona.”

“I’m trying.” She fussed with her hair. “This pin is jabbing me. Ouf!”

I followed mother out, breathing deep the morning air, although the stench of horse maneuver was ever-present. The culprit was the thoroughfare, as dozens of animals had already been through here. The church services were typically well attended; the citizens of Cripple Creek dressed in their Sunday best, sporting freshly washed hair and squeaky-clean faces. From beneath my bonnet, I observed people, noting that several of the miners had taken up with a few widows, Mrs. McAllister being one of them. Trudy Osborne also seemed to be with a new man. More than one miner glanced our way, but their attention was always on Leona. She was oblivious to the stir she created wherever she went, not realizing her pretty blonde looks attracted appreciative stares.

We filed into the church, sitting in a pew several aisles from the pulpit, while other families joined us. The service, lead by Pastor Lloyd, was always worth listening to, as he spoke from personal experience and from the wealth of knowledge in the Bible. His son, Benjamin, glanced over his shoulder at Leona several times. I didn't want to feel envious of my sister, but she had certainly captured his attention, and, once the service had concluded, we got to our feet, ready to leave.

“He stares at you, Leona,” I murmured.

“Who?” Her eyes were wide.

“Benjamin Lloyd. Look! Here he comes.”

Indeed, the stoic-faced man, who wore a sack coat and necktie, approached, smiling. “You’re not leaving so soon, are you?”

“I’m afraid we must,” said Leona.

“That’s a shame.”

“I’ll see you girls at home,” said ma, who hurried to follow pa, as he had already left the building.

People loitered, some speaking with Pastor Lloyd, while women chatted amongst themselves. Most weren’t able to socialize during the week, because they lived further in the mountains or miles away in the valley. This was their only opportunity to trade news and gossip; even important events such as Indian attacks and mail disruptions were discussed.

“I was hoping you might allow me to accompany you on a walk.” Benjamin looked expectant, while clasping his hands behind his back.

I couldn’t help feeling that he was genuine in his affections. “We could walk, Leona. There’s no harm in a little exercise and fresh air.”

“I…suppose so.”

I had never known my sister to be bashful, and her behavior was perplexing. “I’ll follow behind you…so you can…talk.”

She glanced at me, widening her eyes, which revealed vexation. For whatever reason, she was hesitant to be with Benjamin, but I would love a walk, even though I was not the one being courted. I’d been living vicariously through Leona for years, and that certainly wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Instead of wandering down the filthy thoroughfare through town, we took a path behind the mercantile, after passing an alley. From there, we neared the woods, with the lush, green rolling hills of the valley appearing in the distance. This path was pretty, bordered by a variety of pines and Cottonwoods. Benjamin didn’t seem to mind that I followed, and I kept my own pace, wanting to give them some modicum of privacy. I was barely able to hear the conversation.

“Are you adverse to me?” he asked.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for speaking so bluntly, but I really must know if there is something you dislike about me. Is it my looks, my character? Do I dress too simply?”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“I’ve tried to speak to you before, and you were almost hostile.”

Leona had stopped walking. “I was?”

“You’re outgoing with everyone else. You smile and laugh. I’ve seen it often enough, otherwise I’d wonder if you ever did so. But then I try to speak to you, and you don’t seem to have anything to say.”

I loitered near a tree, pretending to examine it.

“I’m sorry if that’s your impression of me.”

“If I disgust you, please tell me so.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. This was the last thing I expected.”

“I’m tired of beating about the bush, Leona. I’ve fancied you for quite a while now. I want to spend more time with you, but I’m not sure my feelings are reciprocated.”