Maybe This Christmas: A Sweet Historical Western Holiday Romance Novella (Holidays in Mountain Home Book 2) (10 page)

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“It’s plain as day, written on your face. You’re in love. Desperately in love…but I know you, and I doubt you’re conflicted by divided loyalties. You’re not in love with both.”

Her heart rate took off like a runaway horse, galloping at full-speed.

In love? How was that possible? She didn’t know what love was, had never been in love.

She was, however, infatuated with Luke. That malady had been coming on for a very long time, for more than a year, now. Snippets of images featuring him flashed through her mind. A captured memory of the expression in his eyes as he looked at her—
only
her—at the summertime church picnic. The touch of his hand at her elbow one springtime Sunday and the hint of a smile playing about his lips. He’d been so fully focused on her and her alone.

“I’m scared.” Admitting that truth made her feel helpless, raw.

“Why?”

“I’m no good at this. I thought I loved Gus once, but that didn’t last. My marriage was a disaster—I’m not capable of loving a man forever. I doubt I even know what love is.”

Her friend gazed at her with compassion and understanding. A long moment passed, and Effie’s trepidation grew.“When you’re paired with the right man, it’s easy.”

Miranda spoke from experience—one year into marriage, she knew she’d made the best possible choice.

“How do I know if he’s the right man?” How could anyone possibly know, until time proved it so?

Her heart thundered and dread tightened her chest.
Why
had she ever allowed herself to consider taking this risk? It would’ve been infinitely safer to hold fast to her resolution to remain unmarried. Safer, more certain…and significantly lonelier.

The baby yawned widely, screwed up his tiny features and cried pitifully. Miranda reached for her son and snuggled him close. The babe continued to fuss. “I had a hard time trusting Hunter. Remember?

Effie nodded.

“When I paused to examine my heart, what I truly felt inside, I knew. I
knew
he was the right man for me. I suspect you and Luke are meant for each other. He’s known this for a year and a half—and I believe you’ll come to know it, too.”

Chapter Eight

The night of the Annual Children’s Program, Luke came to the solemn conclusion that two marriage-minded men could
not
court the same woman.

Effie sat between Luke and Gus on a pew. Gus had the aisle seat, and a steady stream of well-wishers paraded past, made all sorts of excuses to say hello to Effie and to shake Gus’s hand.

Gus must’ve jostled Effie from the other side, for her wide hat brim caught Luke in the cheek.

“Sorry,”
she mouthed, and they shared a secret smile—one bright spot in this ridiculous night.

Sheriff Talmadge came next in line to shake Gus’s hand. Sandwiched together as they were, Luke couldn’t help but overhear.

“It’ll be mighty fine to have you in our office, son.” The sheriff pumped Gus’s hand in a hearty shake. “Glad to make it permanent.”

Permanent?
Shoot.
Not
what Luke had in mind when he’d asked Talmadge to keep Gus busy.

“Thank you, sir.”

“The Service will be sorry to lose you.”

Gus chuckled. “I wired my resignation early this morning. They accepted, so I won’t need to make the journey just to sign out.”

From the pew behind them, Mrs. Whipple leaned forward between Effie and Gus. “Mrs. Abbott tells me you offered a generous sum for their home. Is it true?”

“Don’t know how generous it was,” Gus turned in his seat to better address Mrs. Whipple, “But we’ll make it official in a few days when my wired funds arrive at the bank.”

Dread slammed into Luke’s gut with the speed of a locomotive. Gus, buying the finest house in Mountain Home?

“I know how long she’s been talking about wanting to sell that big house. With their family grown and the stairs getting harder to navigate, she’s been planning a house that’s just right. No stairs. Small.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” Gus winked…apparently at Effie.

“Well, that’s mighty fine news.” Sheriff Talmadge grinned. “That’s a lovely home, a lovely home indeed. And a short walk to the sheriff’s office. And not far at all from Pettingill’s.”

Luke’s thoughts reeled. How on earth could he combat this latest assault? Gus, moving here,
permanently,
buying a big home meant for a wife and family. Mighty sure of himself, wasn’t he?

Luke’s guts twisted as he realized how much he didn’t know. Had Effie given Gus reason to believe he had a chance? Luke had been around plenty in the past weeks, but no doubt Gus’d found opportunity to spend time alone with her.

Luke nudged her, and she glanced at him, clearly stunned by Gus’s disclosures.

Whether that was good news or not, Luke couldn’t decide. Maybe the stunned expression meant she was overjoyed at the thoughts of that grand house…and living there as Gus’s wife.

Luke knew he must do something,
anything
, to compete..

Now Gus had Effie’s complete attention and Luke didn’t like it, not one bit.

“It’ll be a fine thing indeed,” the sheriff said, “to have you join our community. You’ve won the hearts of the people, saving Doc and all. They’ll feel safe, with you on duty.”

Mrs. Whipple gasped. “You saved Doc?”

Gus nodded. “His horse came trotting home this morning, past the sheriff’s office, without him. I went to inspect and found Doc in the snow about three miles out. He’d called on the Nance family. Out cold, he was. I got him home.”

“Doc woke up about halfway back to town,” Talmadge said. “He’s at home, resting. Likely be as good as new ‘fore long, thanks to Gus.”

“What do you think, Miss Effie?” Gus asked, his expression a mixture of boyish hope and a confidence and certainty that made Luke seethe, “think you’re gonna like having me around?”

She made a non-committal sound that could’ve meant anything from
possibly
to
I’m going to kill you as soon as no one’s looking
. Luke wouldn’t allow himself to read anything positive into her choked response.

Talmadge laughed. “Well, if she’s not happy about it, there’s at least a half-dozen marriageable young ladies who’ll be happy to hear you’re here to stay—my daughter among them. The ladies consider you quite a catch.”

“I’m flattered.” Gus dropped a meaty palm on Effie’s knee. “But I’ve got my heart set on a certain young lady.”

“
You
,” Effie stated, “are
not
talking about me.”

Luke smiled at that her denial.

Gus chuckled. “Who else would I refer to, Sweetheart? Everyone knows I’ve been sweet on you nearly half my life.”

The organ tapered off through closing notes, and Reverend Gilbert stood behind the podium.

Effie’s posture stiffened. “Gus—”

The sheriff laughed and Gus joined in.

Were these men idiots?

Luke took Effie’s hand and knew a moment’s pleasure when she held on tight.

Folks hushed the talkers and Sheriff Talmadge waved goodbye and headed for his seat. Mrs. Whipple settled back into her place behind them.

Their amusement wasn’t mean-spirited, or Luke would’ve been on his feet and hauling Gus outside—town hero or not.

Luke cringed as Gus snagged Effie’s attention…and from Luke’s vantage point, it seemed they shared a lengthy, private moment of earnest conversation.

Luke held Effie’s hand and wished all the way to Monday he had her to himself.

How
was he supposed to make that happen?

Through the first musical number by the children’s choir, Luke mulled over the dizzying news.

He knew one thing as sure as shootin’: Gus would hold on, keep fighting for her right up until she told him how it was going to be. Nothing Luke had done had convinced Gus to take his attentions elsewhere. No. If Luke were to have Effie to himself,
she’d
have to be the one to tell Gus to go.

First chance he got, he’d let Effie know things had to change.

The following afternoon, Effie left Noelle in charge and hurried to Murphy’s Mercantile for groceries. She picked up a loaf of Whipple’s Bakery bread, a one-pound bag of whole nuts, and four fresh oranges. She added several canned items to her order and had just paid when Luke entered the store.

She turned to him, a cheerful greeting dying on her lips. Something was
wrong
.

“Mrs. O’Leary.” Luke’s tone bit deep, like frostbite.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.”

Effie glanced back to the counter to find Mrs. Murphy watching them, listening with unabashed curiosity. Mr. Murphy had paused in his sweeping. The older man wiped a palm down his white grocer’s apron and hadn’t the good sense to look away. “I’ll be back for my purchases momentarily.”

She lifted the hood of her cloak as Luke opened the front door for her.

He followed on her heels. “Not at your shop. Noelle’s there.”

Of course. He wouldn’t want an audience any more than she did. Where to go? She glanced both ways on Main, realizing every business would have people coming and going. They wouldn’t find a warm, sheltered place for a conversation. And by the look on Luke’s face, this conversation must happen now.

Without another word, Luke took her elbow and guided her toward her business. Before they reached it, he turned her down an alleyway between buildings and toward the empty lot behind. They passed her necessary standing in a copse of bare, snow-laden trees, and beyond into an empty, forested plot beyond. At least they were out of the way of prying eyes.

Luke halted and turned her toward him. His expression was grim, but all menace had fled.

“You can’t have both of us,” he stated. “It’s time to choose.”

“I don’t want you both.” She blinked, blindsided, but yet she’d known it would come to this. The Annual Children’s Program last night had been miserable for them all. She’d been a fool to think they could sit together as friends.

“I’m courting you, he’s courting you, and I’m putting a stop to it. I realize you very well might choose him—it’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

She’d never seen him so distressed. Tension constricted his voice and a prominent vein pulsed on his forehead. “Luke—”

“This morning, I purchased
this
property.” His gaze bored into hers. “I bought it to build you a big, comfortable house, with convenient access to your shop. A house for
us
.”

“I don’t understand—”

He had her by both elbows. “Not two minutes later, what do I hear? Our illustrious town hero, August Rose the Magnificent, obtained a marriage license with
you
listed as bride.”

“I did not agree to such a thing.” Indignation flared. Did no one ask her what
she
wanted? First Gus and now Luke.

“Didn’t ask you about that, did he?” Luke swore under his breath. “Never mind. Of course he didn’t.”

“This
isn’t
a competition—I’m not a prize.
You
didn’t ask me, either.”

“To marry me? I most certainly did.”

“No, he hadn’t
—
he’d told her he
intended
to court her at a leisurely pace and
one day
, when she was ready, he would ask. But that was an argument for another time. “You didn’t ask me if I’d like to live here, this close to my shop. You just bought the property.” Irritation made her sound petty, irritable, most unlike herself. She didn’t like the woman she’d become under the pressure of courtship from two men.

“It was a Christmas present.” His voice rose, startling a flock of birds from the bare branches overhead. They took flight and scattered. “I intended to slip the deed in your Christmas stocking on my parents’ mantle, but Gus’s marriage license derailed those plans. Word about is he’s planning on a New Year’s wedding.”

She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her go. She growled with frustration. “Will neither of you stop to consider I might want a say in my future?”

“Effie—” Shock registered on his features. “I did listen. You told me you want to stay here, in Mountain Home. You told me you love your business…so I figured out how we could make that work, how I could adapt my life to fit with yours.”

His temper cooled, exposing heartrending sadness. “Are you planning to marry
him
?”

At this moment, she didn’t want either of them. “No.”

“Good.” Without warning, Luke pulled her into his arms and nuzzled his mouth against her jaw and neck and scattering kisses.

She couldn’t resist the pull of his warm, pliant mouth upon hers. He awoke a startling sense of
right
.

Is this what Miranda had meant? That she would know, with certainty, that Luke was the right man for her?

“I love you,” he whispered against her ear. “I love you, Effie.”

She stilled. She’d have thought his declaration would bring happiness, overwhelming warmth and completion, because she’d waited her entire life to hear those words. A great chill seemed to overtake her instead. She shivered.

He stilled, eased back, and held her gaze—a silent demand she confess the same.

She couldn’t. How did one form those three words in that particular order? She’d never once told another soul that she loved them. Deep down, she doubted she knew the meaning of love. Never once had either parent expressed affection, not to each other and not to their children. Among the Scofields, it simply wasn’t done.