Montana Rose (14 page)

Chapter 27

“I can’t believe it. You bought a milk cow, her calf, twenty laying hens, and one meaner-than-hel
,
uh, heck, rooster. Old Man Watson grabbed that money out of your hands while he strutted around asking if you were a farmer now. I wanted to plow my fist into his son’s face
,
and I would have, too, if you hadn’t stopped me
when he asked if I needed a three-legged milking stool.” Then in a falsetto voice, he mocked, “
My sister has one she might sell you.
”

“Any other time, I’d of turned you loose on the little weasel. But we weren’t there to teach the Watsons manners. We wanted what they had, and they wanted our money. So a fair trade was made. And you know the best part?”

“No,” Tory bit out, still smarting from the teasing.

“Well”—Jesse chuckled—“you don’t have to go to the Watsons ever again for eggs or milk.”

Tory’s face split into a wide grin. “Hey, I never thought of that. Yippee!” he yelled. “Thank you, Miss Bush.”

“Don’t forget,” Jesse admonished, a serious look replacing his grin. “This is a secret. Mr. Watson will deliver the cow, calf, and chickens late tonight. All we have to do is keep Miss Bush out of the barn until Christmas morning.”

“Huh? That’s all? Now how are we going to do that?”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Sick?” The word exploded from Tory’s mouth.

“Yep,” Jesse said smugly. “Sick. Sick enough you don’t want her leaving your side. And knowing Miss Bush, she’ll be there doing everything she can to make you well in time for opening presents and dinner at the McCabe’s house.”

“That’s easy.” Tory laughed.

“It had better be. Watson said he’d milk the cow before he brings her, but it’ll be up to Rose, uh, Miss Bush, to get it done Christmas morning. I just hope Watson can sneak in after dark, like he promised. I’ll be out there to meet him.”

“Jesse, it ain’t gonna work.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Miss Bush goes out to the barn right after she puts your breakfast on the table. Lotsa times she’s out before you finish eating.”

“You just leave all that to me. But you’d better plan getting up earlier than ever so you can be ‘sick.’”

“Yeah.” The grin filled Tory’s face and lit up his eyes.

Later, when Jesse and Tory left the mercantile loaded down with packages, they were laughing and talking nonstop. The fact that there had been few decorations to buy, and most of them were covered with dust, cracked or broken, and outrageously priced, hadn’t dampened their spirits. It had been a rare experience, each one trying to outdo the other in keeping secret prospective gifts. They had conspired on Tory’s gift to Rose, finally settling on a box of handkerchiefs and a stickpin with a purple stone. The clerk called it an amethyst.

“She’ll love it,” Tory said, taking it once again out of his pocket and rubbing the setting with his thumb.

“She won’t if you rub off all the shine,” Jesse teased.

“How come you didn’t want to buy her that box of candy? It was a lot better than that book on raising sheep. Sheep,” he scoffed.

“Probably,” Jesse mused. “But candy is something a guy buys a girl he likes.”

“Well, you like Miss Bush,” Tory persisted. “Don’t you?”

“Sure, just not that way,” Jesse said, but the words felt false rolling off his tongue.

“Like a girlfriend?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Aww, you shoulda bought the candy.” Tory shrugged. “Everyone knows you and Miss Bush are too old to be girlfriend and boyfriend.”

Jesse gave Tory a quizzical look but saw his brother was serious.
Well, hell, guess I do seem old to him. Too old to have Miss Bush for a girlfriend, huh? Wouldn’t be hard to set him right on that account.
Then he frowned, wondering where that thought came from.

They were in high spirits when they pulled up in front of their house. Jesse sat with the reins looped around his hands, taking in the wraparound porch, the curl of smoke rising from the chimney, the sparkling windows. A feeling of homecoming entered him. Was it only a short time ago he’d seen the house as cold and empty, harboring unhappiness? It wasn’t that way at all. In fact, this place was downright welcoming.

“You go on in with what you can carry. I’ll put up the team and bring the rest.” Jesse needed time to himself
,
time to analyze the thoughts and feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

Tory hopped out of the wagon, grabbed up an armful of packages, and with a grin on his face, went up the steps and into the house.

He was a different boy and Jesse knew the reason was a determined, blond-haired woman with sky-blue eyes.

Jesse deliberately dawdled over the evening chores, finally giving in to the lure coaxing him inside the house. Rose. Even her name made him think of something delicate and beautiful. Delicate and beautiful with an underlying strength that Jesse knew he needed and wanted. She’d blown into his life, and when the time was right, she’d blow out. He couldn’t allow that.

You can’t stop her from leaving. And I don’t dare risk it being like father, like son.
He opened the door, ignoring the niggling feeling he’d forgotten something important.

The heady redolent smell of things rich and spicy greeted him, wrapping the tantalizing scent around him. It teased his nose and made him pause to take a deep breath. Jesse had to swallow twice as his taste buds responded. Racing up the stairs, he deposited the remaining packages on his bed, then hurried back down, determined to beg a piece, a bite, or a slice of whatever Rose had magically created in the kitchen. Christmas or not, there was a limit to what a man should be expected to endure, especially in his own house.

With that thought in mind, Jesse marched into the kitchen and stopped short. The counter and table were laden with pies, cakes, cookies, and different-shaped breads.

“How on earth did you manage all this in the short time we were gone?” Jesse walked closer to the woman standing in front of the table, a proud smile on her face.

“This?” She swept her hand toward the array of dishes. “Why it was nothing.”

“Huh?” Jesse missed the twinkle in her eye.

“Nothing? Lady, there is no way . . .”

Rose giggled, causing Jesse to give her a closer look.

“You’re hiding something, Miss Bush.”

“Hiding? Why, Mr. Rivers what on earth would I hide?” Innocence blinked from her eyes.

Enjoying her teasing, he shortened the distance between them. There was a plate of cookies directly behind her. Ignoring the fact it wasn’t just the cookies tempting him, he playfully reached both arms around her, capturing her, holding her hostage. He swayed closer. He could smell her
,
a bewitching mingling of scents
,
sugar, spices, and lilacs. A scent uniquely Rose.

His hands searched behind her back as he leaned in, fumbling for the elusive cookie plate. Suddenly, both of them realized how close he was. How his mouth was only a few inches from hers. How easy it would be to forget all about the cookies and wrap those strong arms around the sometimes irritating, yet uniquely, bewitching woman with the flushed face, the curly, wispy hair, and the very kissable lips.

Jesse bent his head. Rose raised hers. And in the purest of seconds, their lips met, each welcoming the other’s as they banished all reasons not to drink of the sweet nectar offered.

She felt so right in his arms. He cupped her face with his large hands and looked deep into her eyes as all sense of time stopped. A door slamming upstairs broke the spell. He uttered a silent curse and forced himself to step back, and turning on his heel, left the room, all thoughts of cookies forgotten. He’d just sampled a confection sweeter than anything a mere mortal could bake.

Chapter 28

With trembling fingers, Rose touched her lips. She closed her eyes as a pleasant shiver ran through her. What had just happened? Jesse Rivers had kissed her, and she’d let it happen. Not just let it happen, but welcomed it.

Rose, what have you done? You foolish woman. First you lose your ranch, then you lose your teaching job, and now you’ll lose this position.
Despair replaced the exhilaration from being in Jesse’s arms. And the kiss.
How will you ever get through the next days, not to mention tonight?

Well, there’s no escape for it, I’ll have to leave.

Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

The decision brought with it a dark cloak that covered her body and seeped into her soul. In the short time she’d been at the Rocking R, she’d come to love it.

I’ll leave right after Christmas. I’ll have to take advantage of Ben and Wisteria’s hospitality. She
blinked hard, not allowing the threatening tears to fall.
Maybe it’s time to give up. Give up the dream of my own ranch.
And Rose knew once she did, she’d give up a large part of herself. A part that would never resurface.

“Rose?” Jesse stood in the doorway.

She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see the trace of tears still in her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak. “Do you need something, Mr. Rivers?”

Jesse gave a snort of disgust. “My name is Jesse, Rose. After what just happened, I think we can stop with the Mr. Rivers, don’t you?”

Rose gave a deep sigh. “Very well
,
Jesse.” Her tongue faltered over his name.

Jesse thought he’d never heard his name sound so sweet. He straightened his spine and, reminding himself he was his father’s son, blurted out what he’d quickly rehearsed in his mind. The words came out gruffer than he intended.

“I owe you an apology. I guess the trip to town, buying presents, seeing and smelling the baking, Christmas, I . . . I lost my head. I made a mistake. It was an impulsive action.” He swallowed hard before choking out the next words. “Nothing more.” What a lie. It was something more. It was everything, yet it was nothing
,
nothing he could have. Still, he’d treasure the memory
.
That, he would have.

“Why, yes, of course,” Rose stammered, filled with hurt at his words. “Impulsive. A mistake. Like you said, nothing more.”

He touched her shoulder, then, feeling Rose stiffen, jerked his hand back. “Tory and I forgot the tree. We need to go back out and cut one. Uh, would, would you like to come with us?” Longing filled his voice.

Rose wanted to say ‘yes.’ Wanted it with all her soul. “No,” she forced out. “I’m too busy. Way too busy.” She stepped back from him. “I’ve got supper to get, and I planned . . .” Her voice faded.

“What? What did you plan, Rose?”

“Nothing of importance.” She skirted past him, escape dominating her thoughts. “You might want to put some logs in the front room fireplace. I finished it last night.”

Then she was gone, leaving emptiness behind her.

In that moment, Jesse knew what Rose had planned. She had planned on surprising them with the fire in the newly cleaned and furnished room. Well, he’d ruined that.

“Tory,” he bellowed, “meet me in the barn, we’ve got one more task before supper.” He slammed the door behind him.

From her bedroom window, Rose watched the wagon pull out of the ranch yard. Jesse had made his feelings clear. The kiss was nothing more than a mistake, an impulsive action. Now it was up to her to deal with the consequences of that impulse. He’d apologized. She’d accepted.

“I’ll do the same. I’ll act as though nothing happened,” she said aloud. “I’m the housekeeper, and that’s what I’ll be until I move on.”

Rose tilted her chin and a look of fierce determination filled her eyes. “But I won’t stay longer than absolutely necessary. I will make a Christmas Tory will remember. I’ll be polite, but reserved, knowing my place. I can do that
.
I’ve done harder things. Meanwhile, I’ll look for another means of supporting myself. I’ll ask Ben and Wisteria to watch for anything, anything at all I can do. Oh, what a fix I’ve gotten myself into. Now I’m even talking to myself.” With those final words, she walked over to the highboy dresser and peered into the mirror held by two curved wooden arms. Her eyes were clear. No sign of tears.

Pleased that decisions had been made, she left the room, banishing all thoughts of the rugged, yet gentle, man who had stolen her heart.

On entering the kitchen, Rose saw the cookies that had tempted Jesse and caught her breath. She skirted the plate as if it were a rattler coiled to strike. Jesse and Tory wouldn’t be long. And after supper, they’d decorate the tree. No, she’d retire to her room, and Jesse and Tory would decorate the tree.

With that thought firmly in her mind, she spent the next hour cooking. And if her eyes strayed to the window, hoping to catch sight of a tree-laden wagon, it was only because she didn’t want to dish up the meal too soon.

Rose stepped over to the sink and began washing the few dishes in the dishpan. With her hands immersed in the warm, soapy water, her thoughts wandered. The next thing she knew, Tory was shouting outside the front door.

“Miss Bush. Open the door. We need help.”

Flinging open the door, Rose found herself met by the tip of an evergreen tree and a grinning boy. Holding up the other end was the man she’d vowed not to think about.

“We got a little carried away,” Jesse said, his eyes shining. “Tory just had to have a big one.”

“Ha,” Tory denied. “You’re the one that said we had to have just the right one. You picked this tree. I said it was too big.”

“Funny, I don’t remember that.”

The camaraderie between the two brought a smile to Rose’s face.

“Unless you plan on standing there all night arguing, bring it in and we’ll see if it will fit in the living room.” She threw the door open as wide as it could go.

The tree
was
big. The branches bushed out long and perfect, filling the hall. Brisk winter air merged with the heavy scent of fresh pine, a Christmas smell, and one Rose savored.

Closing the door, she edged past the tree, branches tickling her face, and led the way into the living room.

“Oh, my gosh.” She stopped them outside the closed pocket doors. “I forgot. We have to have a bucket for the tree.”

“You take my end, Miss Bush, and I’ll run to the barn and get one.” Not waiting for an answer, Tory thrust his end at her and bolted out the door.

Jesse looked at Rose and both of them burst out laughing.

“I’d say he was a bit excited,” Jesse said.

“I’d say you were right,” Rose answered. “You push and I’ll pull, and we’ll see if this giant will fit.”

Jesse chuckled. “Sounds like a plan. Once we get it upright, I’ll bring in a few logs, and we’ll have a tree-decorating party in the new room. And”—his eyes twinkled—“maybe you’d share a few of those cookies? They’d go down real easy with a cup of hot coffee. I thought I’d freeze before Tory quit tramping from tree to tree.”

“Cookies it is. I do have supper ready.”

“Save it. Let’s fill up on cookies and whatever else you might spare from that bakery in the kitchen. We can have supper anytime, but Christmas baking is only once a year.”

Rose smiled back at him. All thoughts of not participating in the tree decorating had fled. And, pushed back even further, the thoughts of her leaving.

Laughter filled the room as each decoration was made over and hung. There wasn’t near enough decoration to have even one hanging from each branch, but as Tory exclaimed over and over, it had to be the prettiest Christmas tree in the entire state of Montana. She and Jesse wholeheartedly agreed as they teased each other that their side of the tree was the prettiest and best decorated. Plate after plate of cookies was eaten until, finally, the meager decorations had all been hung.

Rose stepped back and happy tears filled her eyes as she glanced around the room. The fire was blazing, sending out waves of warmth and cozy cheer, the furniture beckoned, the waxed floor reflected the glow from the fireplace. It was a beautiful room, filled with people she loved.

Loved?
“No, I don’t
,
I can’t.” Rose didn’t realize she’d spoken the words until Jesse turned a puzzled face in her direction.

“What can’t you do, Rose?”

“What? Oh,” she fumbled, “I, uh, I can’t put off doing the chores any longer. What was I thinking of? It’s time the animals were fed and . . .”

“Not tonight,” Jesse quickly said. “You and Tory take care of the mess we’ve created and hit the sack. Christmas morning comes early.”

Really early.
He smiled to himself, thinking of what all he had left to do in the barn. He wanted Rose asleep in her room
.

Her room
.

Panic swept through him
.
Wait.
She can’t sleep in her room. It has a perfect view of the barn. She’ll hear and see Mr. Watson for sure.
Damn, and he’d been congratulating himself on thinking of everything.

Jesse moved behind Rose and jerked his head at Tory. Then he pantomimed rubbing and holding his stomach.

Tory frowned and shook his head.

Jesse rubbed his stomach again and mouthed, “Sick.”

Finally, Tory’s face cleared and, like a puppet on a string, he bent over and wrapped his arms around his middle.