Читать книгу Wild West Christmas: A Family for the Rancher / Dance with a Cowboy / Christmas in Smoke River - Kathryn Albright, Jenna Kernan - Страница 15

Chapter Seven

Dillen took the boys to the barn, wondering with each step if he’d just made the worst mistake of his life. He’d asked Mr. Harvey if his nephews could stay until after he got these horses trained and delivered. Even mentioned Alice and her willingness to help out until the holiday. He’d never expected his boss to say, Sure! Move the woman and kids into my personal residence. But Harvey had said yes and now Dillen was just stuck.

He had horses to train, a ranch to run, two boys underfoot and the temptation of Alice so close that he swore he could smell her perfume clear out here in the open. Dillen leaned forward and sniffed Colin’s collar, finding Alice’s scent. Had the boy spent some of the ride nestled up against Alice’s body? Dillen scowled.

“What?” asked Colin.

“Nothin’,” said Dillen.

At least he had one other option. Mr. Gulliver had delivered more than the boys, Alice and her gear today. He’d also delivered a reply to his wire.

Great-aunt Ethel had agreed to take his boys. But with Alice staying until Christmas, he could put off that decision until the holiday. He shoved the folded paper deep into his coat pocket. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? What was best for the boys. They why did he feel so blue?

“Uncle Dillen?” said Cody.

Dillen forced a smile and rubbed his gloved hands together in anticipation.

“You two know anything about horses?”

His question met with silence.

“Riding?”

Cody’s eyes shifted and he looked uncomfortable. “I want to learn to ride.”

“That so?” Dillen scratched his head. He’d have to get in a training session with the twin ponies and then saddle up Dasher. If he didn’t have to cook dinner, too, he might manage. Steak and eggs, he decided. Fast and filling. “Follow me, boys.”

Once inside the barn, his nephews were surprisingly quiet and stayed out of the way as he led the two ponies from their stalls.

Dillen talked as he worked, showing the boys how to brush them and saddle them, pointing out the parts of the horse, describing the care of the horses’ hooves as he cleaned and inspected each leg.

The boys sat on the fence rail as he worked the two ponies round and round in the ring on lunge lines. Though the ring was snow covered, Dillen had added sand to the outer perimeter, and the ponies trotted, walked and turned on command. They did so well that he tried them with no line for the first time, using only the long whip to tap them when needed. As it happened, he didn’t need it as the pair already knew the verbal signals and could walk, stop, trot and turn on command.

When they returned to the barn, Dillen only had to remind the boys once to stay clear of the ponies’ hindquarters. He didn’t let them curry or brush the ponies. Just didn’t trust the green horses around his nephews. But when he brought out Dasher, he let the boys pet him and showed them how to feed a horse a sugar cube without losing a digit. Both Colin and Cody were brave, taking to Dasher like trout to a brook. Cody even managed to lift Dasher’s saddle, though Dillen couldn’t believe his eyes. The two boys seemed eager to please. It twisted Dillen’s heart.

There was so much of his sister in them. They had manners, smarts, and Colin seemed to have a sense of humor judging from his attempts to comb his hair with the currycomb and making his brother burst out laughing.

He took them each before him in turn as he walked and trotted with Dasher around the ring. At first they clung to the saddle horn, but soon they were moving with the saddle and holding on with their strong, short legs. He dismounted and set Cody behind Colin, then led Dasher around the circle.

“Did you know that this horse was in the circus?” He didn’t say that he had been, as he wasn’t especially proud of that nine months of his life. The promised fame and fortune had not materialized—or the fortune part had not, but that job had gotten him this position when Harvey had seen what he and Dasher could do.

“Really?” piped Colin. “Does he do tricks? Can he walk on his hind legs?”

“Sure. Want to see?”

Cody looked concerned, and Dillen realized he thought his uncle meant with the two of them mounted up. Cody did not object. But he did wrap his arms about his little brother and grip the saddle horn with both hands.

“Yes!” shouted Colin.

Dasher’s ears twitched and he turned one to listen to the new, tiny riders. Still, his mount was calm and acted the perfect gentleman.

Dillen pulled the boys down and set them on the fence rail. Then he began some of his act. Dasher should have been out of practice, but he picked up the routine in midperformance as if they had never stopped entertaining. Dasher stole Dillen’s hat and tossed it on the ground, stealing it again as Dillen reached to retrieve it. Then he placed it roughly on his master’s head. The boys roared with laughter. His foreman, Bill Roberts, limped over and leaned against the rails, talking to the boys as Dasher trotted away with Dillen seeming to be chasing his errant horse. When the horse made an abrupt rehearsed stop, Dillen ran into Dasher’s hindquarters. Then he put a foot in the stirrup the wrong way and mounted up backward on his horse’s withers just before the saddle. Dillen turned toward the front and Dasher took him around at a trot, then stopped and lowered his head so Dillen slid down his neck to the ground. From there they changed from opponents to a well-oiled machine, with Dasher keeping up a steady trot as Dillen mounted and dismounted using the frozen ground to vault back up from each side of the saddle. The light was fading when he dismounted and had the horse walk a few steps on his hind legs. Finally, he motioned for Dasher to drop down on one foreleg to take a bow. The boys clapped and Roberts whistled.

Cody’s exuberance bubbled over. “I want to be just like you when I grow up, Uncle Dillen!”

“No, you don’t,” he said, a little too gruffly, he realized, judging from his nephew’s quivering chin. “You could do a lot better than me.”

Back in the barn, he let Cody remove Dasher’s bridle and saddle blanket. Roberts smiled at the boys and then at Dillen.

“That was some fine, fancy riding,” said his foreman. Then to the boys he said, “Nice to have you two here. My boys are all raised up and off on their own.”

Dillen hadn’t realized Bill had children.

Both boys brushed as much of the horse as they could reach, and Dasher stood like a benign giant.

“He’s the smartest horse in the world!” said Colin.

“It’s training, isn’t it?” said Cody. “You use hand signals.”

Dillen nodded, pleased at Cody’s observations. “For some of it. Some parts he’s just got memorized. Good horse, Dasher.” Dillen patted his mount’s shoulder. It was full dark when the four of them headed to the house. He thought he heard Colin’s stomach growling.

Dillen hoped that Alice had entertained herself. They didn’t have books or a piano. She was likely bored already. He glanced at the chimney, relieved to see that she’d managed to keep the fire going.

When he opened the door he smelled food and his mouth started to water. His first thought was that she’d hired a cook, but surely he’d have seen the arrival of a wagon.

“Hello, the house,” called Bill. “Something sure smells good.”

Alice appeared from the dining room, her cheeks flushed. She wore a plain sage-green dress with no bustle or doodads. It was simpler even than the black skirts and bodice she wore when accompanying her father on house calls. Everything about her seemed more relaxed. Wisps of fine brown hair had escaped their moorings, cascading down the sides of her face, making her look young and healthy and so tempting. Dillen had to fix his feet to keep from dragging her up against him.

“Wash up, boys,” she said to Colin and Cody. “The sink is in the kitchen.”

“What smells so good?” asked Bill, limping by Alice on his way past the boys.

“Beef in a red wine sauce over egg noodles,” said Alice.

Dillen stared at her in fascination, as if seeing her for the very first time.

“Where’d you get supper?” he asked.

She laughed and stroked his cheek. The sparkle in her green eyes, the curling of her lips and the warmth of her fingers trailing over his cold skin worked like a magnet to metal shavings. He actually bucked forward, drawn in as she spoke.

“I made it, silly.” She turned and headed through the empty dining room toward the kitchen. “You smell like horse, Dillen. Soap is on the sink.”

He trailed after her exactly like Dasher had followed him around the ring, but unlike Dasher, Dillen was interested in much more than a pat on the chest and a bucket of grain. After supervising their washing up, Alice directed them to sit at the large kitchen table and served them the best meal Dillen had ever eaten. That included the one-dollar steak he’d had at that fancy hotel in Dodge City the fall he’d worked a cattle drive.

She’d even managed a bread pudding for dessert that was riddled with streaks of brown sugar and plump raisins.

“That sure was a fine meal, Miss Truett,” said Bill Roberts. “So happy you could come and stay awhile.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roberts. Would you care for more coffee?”

He lifted his cup and she poured. She seemed content and comfortable in this kitchen, thought Dillen, as if she belonged here. It was an adjustment for him, seeing her out of her glittery bangles. She reminded him of the woman he’d first met, the one that was a lie, or was it? She actually seemed more at ease now than in her fancy duds. Maybe the elegant, wealthy woman was the lie.

Ridiculous—wasn’t it? He knew she was kind, educated, refined. He knew from seeing her work as her father’s assistant that she was not squeamish and that they shared a love for animals, riding and music, and that she could sing like an angel. Still, she seemed suddenly a stranger and at the same time more approachable.

“Dillen, are you all right?”

He snapped out of his woolgathering. Alice Truett had a bright future and could likely do far better than his mangy hide. Why hadn’t she?

Stop it, he admonished. She was here to do a friend a favor because she was a fine Christian woman. Not because she wanted him. His mind flicked back to that kiss. Maybe she did want him. But that only showed one tiny blind spot in her good judgment. He’d be a scoundrel to take advantage of her.

“Dillen, is there anything else I can offer you?”

There sure the hell was, but he couldn’t say it out loud.

“Nothing. Thanks,” he managed. “Fine meal, that.”

She beamed. “Thank you.”

Gosh, she was a beauty, especially when she smiled.

Roberts rose. “Let’s go tuck in by that hearth. Dillen, go get your fiddle.”

“Oh, no. Alice doesn’t want to hear my fiddling.”

She pressed her hands together. “Yes, I do. Bring it, please.”

He left her to go get his father’s fiddle, and when he returned, Roberts was smoking by the fire, telling the boys about an Indian attack that had happened years ago, though whether in Bill’s memory or his imagination was unclear. Alice was nowhere to be seen.

“Alice?” he asked, laying his fiddle on the mantel.

Bill thumbed toward the back of the house. “Chased us out of her kitchen.”

Dillen headed through the dining room and found Alice drying the last of the dishes.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

She startled and then smiled, returning the plates to the cupboards. “All finished.”

He approached, seeming unable to keep his distance from this woman. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I’d imagine there are many things you don’t know about me.” She reached behind her back and untied her apron, ducking out of the collar and setting it aside before brushing off her skirts.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress like that before,” he said.

“It’s new.”

He frowned. Of course it was. Likely she bought it, perhaps an entire wardrobe for her little rustic adventure.

Alice’s brow knit as if she recognized the misstep. “Do you like it?” She lifted the skirts and turned this way and that. Here was the Alice he recalled. Charming, bubbly and full of unreasonable optimism where he was concerned. She’d overestimated everything about him, especially his prospects.

“Yes,” he said truthfully, stepping in, looping an arm behind her back even as he told himself to leave her be.

She rested her hands on his chest and smiled up at him. For just a moment he pretended that she was his, that those boys were their children and she was a mother instead of a lady of means.

“Thank you for taking such good care of them,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.” Her hand lifted and stroked the rough stubble at his jaw. She cast him a winning smile. “I saw your performance. You are a trick rider!”

He stiffened. “How?”

She motioned toward the window above the sink. The world beyond was now dark, but he realized she would have a fine view of the riding ring from here. The fact that she’d seen his shenanigans did not please him.

He did not share her delight. Rather he felt a wash of shame. A man might have to dig ditches for a living or dress like a clown to put food on the table, but it didn’t make him proud.

Dillen released Alice and stepped away. “I did a stint with the circus.”

“Really?” She still seemed fascinated, but her smile now looked brittle.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “Want to...” He motioned his head toward the living room.

“Oh, yes.”

For the next hour, Dillen played and Alice sang. Bill even sang a tune or two and the boys joined in on anything they knew. It was a magical evening. But afterward Dillen forced himself to remember that despite her wardrobe change, Alice was still a lady and he was still a saddle tramp.