Читать книгу A Montana Christmas - Kristine Rolofson, Kristine Rolofson - Страница 10

SO WHAT IF SHE WAS ONE of the most beautiful women he had ever seen? Oh, there had been some rodeo queens in his past, and that one summer seven years ago when he’d dated the first runner-up for Miss Montana. But there was something about Melanie, a softness that urged him closer though he knew he should stay well away. After all, she had been invited to the ranch by his brother, who was probably head over heels in love with the woman.

And she had a small child, which meant there was an ex-lover or ex-husband somewhere in the picture to complicate things. There was a lot more to Melanie Briggs than met the eye and Jared hoped his little brother knew what he was getting himself into.

He glanced over and saw that her eyes were closed. He knew if he started a conversation she would sit up and attempt to take part, just to be polite. There would be plenty of time to ask questions tomorrow, but he wouldn’t be asking them of his houseguest, that was for damn sure. Will’s plane was due in at 5:38 and there would be plenty of time on the drive home to find out what was going on.

Another thirty or so miles passed before he woke her.

“Do you want some coffee or tea or something?” Jared slowed the truck and took the exit that led to a large café. Its lights looked welcoming in the dark and a number of semis and pickups filled the parking lot. Snow swirled around in the wind and hit the windshield, but it was nothing serious. Just flurries so far, but they had another hour or so to go before they were home.

“If you’re getting some,” Melanie said, but she sounded pleased that they were stopping. The baby let out a couple of noisy complaints after hearing her mother’s voice.

“Do you want to come in or wait here while I get it?” He pulled the truck into the lot and found a space near the side entrance.

“I’ll come with you. Beth’s starting to fuss.” She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the seat to check the child. Sure enough, the baby wailed again as if she wanted something.

“What do you do for that?”

“Change her, feed her, talk to her.”

She made it sound simple, but Jared had a good idea that keeping a baby happy wasn’t so easy. He’d nursed enough calves and foals back to health to know that babies of any species were demanding creatures.

Before he could offer help, Melanie opened the door and hopped out, then fiddled with the lever to move the seat forward so she could climb in back with the baby. A blast of cold air burst into the truck, but Jared got out and made sure both doors were shut so the baby wouldn’t catch cold.

“Holler when you’re done,” he told her, and stood by the door, his back to the wind, and waited for Melanie to finish wrapping up the child. Jared shivered but didn’t bother to zip his down jacket. Babies and winter didn’t go together. Cows at least waited until spring to drop their calves, even though “spring” in Montana was a loose interpretation of the season.

He turned when he heard the woman fumble at the door, and he found himself taking the baby from her so she could climb down unimpeded. The child’s face was covered with a pink fuzzy blanket and once again she was wrapped up in a thick bundle. “Are you sure she can breathe in there?”

“I need to keep the wind out of her face.” Melanie reached for her child, but Jared—who had a good grip on the kid—hurried toward the door of the restaurant. He was in no mood to stand outside a second more than necessary, and besides, he didn’t want to drop the baby while handing her over to her mother.

“Breakfast 24 Hours” read a blinking neon sign beside the door, which made Jared think of pancakes and eggs and an extra side order of bacon. He pushed open the glass door and they were soon inside the stuffy warmth of a large bright room filled with orange booths, metal chairs and Formica-topped tables. A row of black stools lined the counter and a tired-looking waitress said, “Sit anywhere you like, folks.”

He turned to Melanie, who reached out to take the flap of blanket away from the baby’s face. The baby’s blue eyes stared up at him as if she’d never seen a rancher before. Then she screwed up her face and let out a scream of dismay that caused a couple of truckers to look up from their steak and eggs.

“Here, give her to me,” Melanie said, and this time Jared was happy to do just that. “Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like being wet.”

“Oh.” He watched as Melanie unwrapped the wad of blankets with gentle hands, then cooed at the little girl.

“You’ll feel much better in a minute, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I’ll get a booth,” Jared said, backing up a step.

“Can you take these? I’ll be right back.” She handed Jared the blankets and put the screaming child against her shoulder. She headed toward the ladies’ room, leaving Jared standing at the edge of the room while three older men at a nearby table gave him pitying looks. He shrugged, tossed the blankets over his shoulder and headed toward a corner booth.

“Coffee?” The waitress was right behind him with a half-full carafe.

“Please.” He slid into the booth and dumped the blankets next to him against the wall.

“What about your wife?”

“She’s not—never mind. You can pour her some, too.”

“Just wave when you want me to take your order,” she said, after filling the second mug. She pulled a handful of plastic cream containers from her apron pocket and set them on the table.

“Thanks.” He took a sip of coffee and thought about having a piece of pie to go along with it. He was starving and there was still another hour and a half to go before they arrived at the ranch. But he’d wait for Melanie, he decided. Once she joined him at the booth and they were facing each other, maybe he could find out what was going on between her and Will.

He’d finished two-thirds of his coffee before she appeared. Her red jacket was over her arm, the baby against her shoulder, the diaper bag banging her hip as she walked. He saw she wore a brown turtleneck a shade darker than her hair and slim blue jeans that belied the fact she’d had a baby a few months ago. A lock of her hair was damp, as if she’d splashed water on her face. She wore no makeup, and didn’t need any. Not in his opinion, anyway. She managed to ease into the booth while holding the child against her.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said, moving the straps of her purse and diaper bag from her shoulder.

“That’s your coffee,” he said. “If you want tea instead I’ll have—”

“Coffee’s fine. Thanks.” The baby fussed, pulling its little feet up against Melanie’s breasts. She moved the child to the crook of her arm. The baby’s face was red, its mouth turned down as she looked up at her mother.

“Can I have one of those blankets?” Her cheeks grew pink. “There wasn’t room to feed her in the washroom. I hope you’re not the type to go running out into the parking lot.”

Jared handed over the pink fluffy blanket. He had no idea what she was talking about, not until she draped the blanket carefully around the baby, covering most of the child and, he assumed, her own left breast. No, he wasn’t going to run out into the night, but he sure as hell didn’t know where he was supposed to look while this woman breast-fed her child. The baby’s smacking noises didn’t help ease his embarrassment level, either. Melanie, obviously right-handed, took a careful sip of her coffee.

“I can sit at the counter and give you some privacy,” he offered, figuring he was the “type,” as she put it, to take the easy way out.

“If you’d be more comfortable,” she said, her voice soft. “But it doesn’t bother me—or Beth. I’m really sorry you have to go through all of this. You don’t know me and yet here we are, and there you are, and you weren’t expecting any of this, only to pick up your brother’s friend at the train station.”

It was the most he’d heard her say since they’d met. He kept his gaze fixed firmly above her neck, not that there was anything to see. Melanie had lifted her sweater and engineered the blanket so that no one farther away than arm’s length would know what was going on. He prayed the covering would stay in place, that the baby wouldn’t get rowdy, that nothing would…drip. “Do you want anything to eat?” was all he could manage to say.

“Are you having anything?”

“Yes. You can’t beat the pie here.” He handed her one of the thick plastic-coated menus propped against a ketchup bottle and watched as her face lit up. She was hungry, he realized, noting that she managed to hold the menu with one hand. “We’ve got at least an hour and a half before we get home,” he added.

She set the menu on the table and smiled. “I would love a chocolate milkshake, some toast and a large glass of ice water.”

He turned to catch the waitress’s attention and, when she came to their booth, gave the order. She showed no sign of noticing that Melanie was feeding her child, so maybe this wasn’t such a strange occurrence after all.

“Will said you have a large cattle ranch.”

“We’ve been lucky.” He drained his coffee and hoped the waitress would return to give him a refill. “The place has been in the family for a long, long time. Where are you from?”

“Massachusetts, originally. And then I lived in D.C.”

He waited for her to add something about her family or her reasons for living in Washington, but she took another sip of her coffee and then lifted the edge of the blanket to check on her daughter’s progress.

“Why’d you take the train?” he couldn’t help asking.

“I’m afraid to fly.”

There was more to it, he was sure. Where’s the child’s father was something else he’d like to know. And why the SOB would let his family spend two and a half days on a train to spend the holidays with strangers.

She looked toward the counter as two more men, their hats and coats dusted with snow, entered the restaurant and wiped their boots on the rubber mat near the door. “It’s snowing harder now. Will we be all right?”

“It might take us longer to get home, but it would take a lot more snow than this to cause trouble.” Jared glanced at the window, but a row of checked curtains hid his view of the parking lot. “This is typical Montana weather, nothing to worry about.”

She smiled, a flash of sweetness that threatened his breathing. “Will talked about you a lot. He said, ‘Nothing ever bothers my older brother.”’

Well, Will hadn’t seen him drink coffee with a breast-feeding woman.

“WE’RE HERE,” A GRUFF MALE voice announced. Melanie didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to move, either. Not that she could remember where she was, exactly, but this place was warm and quiet, and sleep was such a rare pleasure she couldn’t bear for it to end.

“Melanie,” the voice repeated. “We’re at the ranch.”

The ranch. It took several seconds for those words to make sense, but Melanie blinked and opened her eyes as cold air brushed across her face. The tall rancher shut his door with a quiet click, but the overhead light stayed on. Melanie sat up and unbuckled her seat belt. Her neck was stiff, but she’d been in such a deep sleep she didn’t mind. She climbed into the back seat as Jared opened the passenger door.

“Be careful getting out. It’s snowing pretty hard and it’s slippery,” he said, but he didn’t look the least bit cold as he stood there in the dark. There were snowflakes coating his hair and the shoulders of his bulky jacket. Every inch the western hero, there was something about Jared that radiated strength and calm, a man sure of himself and what mattered in his life. His brother had that same confidence, but with easier manners and a knack for conversation.

She realized she was staring and turned her attention back to unhitching the straps of the car seat and gathering the blankets around her sleeping child. Her arms were so tired that they trembled as she lifted the baby.

“Give her to me,” he said. “It’s safer that way.”

“All right.” She covered Beth’s face with the corner of the blanket. Behind Jared light glowed, and when he moved the bucket seat forward to take the baby, Melanie saw a large porch and the bright windows of a very big house. She followed him, though not as quickly as she would have liked. The wind blew the breath back into her mouth when she stepped onto the ground, forcing her to lower her head and hurry after Jared as best she could. She slammed the truck’s door and hurried through the snow toward a porch so long it appeared to stretch across the entire length of the house and then some. A door opened and she heard a woman’s voice call out, but Melanie concentrated on negotiating the three wide steps to the porch before she looked up.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re home,” a lovely silver-haired woman she assumed was Jared’s mother said. “I was so—Jared, is that a baby?”

“Yeah. Here.” Jared handed Beth to the woman and then his gloved hand tugged Melanie to the opened door and hauled her inside an enormous brown-and-white kitchen that smelled of freshly baked bread and roasting beef. When she would have stopped to wipe her feet on a mat that read Howdy, Stranger, Jared urged her forward so he could shut the door. He then helped her remove her coat and then, shrugging off his own, hung them both on nearby hooks on a wood-paneled wall.

Jared’s mother, Beth snug in her arms, uncovered the baby’s face before lifting her green-eyed gaze to her guest. “And you must be Melanie. I’m Jenna Stone, which I’m sure you’ve guessed already.”

“Yes,” she began, surprised that Will’s mother looked so young. Her silver hair was caught up at her neck with a barrette; she wore black jeans and an oversize black velvet blouse. Her small wrists were encased in silver bracelets, and beaded silver hoops dangled from her ears. “Thank you for inviting me—us. I’m sorry that Will didn’t tell you ahead of time that I was bringing my daughter with me.”

“Please don’t feel that way,” the woman said, her voice soft. “We’re so glad to meet you. Both of you. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a baby in the house.” She gazed down at Beth and then back to Melanie. She looked as if she’d been given the best Christmas gift of her life. “Does this mean I’m finally a grandmother?”

“I wouldn’t know,” was all she could think to say. Jenna looked so disappointed that Melanie almost felt as if she should apologize again. “Will and I—”

“There you are!” An elderly white-haired gentleman, a wide grin splitting his tanned face into a thousand wrinkles, burst into the room. He clapped Jared on the back, peered at Beth over Jenna’s shoulder, and then eyed Melanie with an expression she could only interpret as sympathetic. “You must be Will’s friend from Washington. Glad to meet you.”

She took the hand he offered. “And you must be Uncle Joe.”

He nodded, releasing her fingers after giving them a gentle squeeze of approval. “That’s right, darlin’. Tell me something, do you play bridge?”

Before Melanie could answer, Jenna spoke. “Let the kids sit down and eat. You can arrange your card games over supper.”

Melanie saw Jared peer into another room. “Where’s Aunt Bitty?”

“Having a nap, I guess,” Joe declared. “With that idiotic dog of hers.”

“We’d better wake her up and tell her you’re here or she’ll have a fit,” Jenna said.

“She can’t hear a damn thing with those headphones on,” the older man grumbled.

Jenna handed the baby to Melanie. “What’s her name?”

“Beth.”

“Well, bring Beth over here to the couch and get her settled. I know I have a cradle up in the attic Jared can get after supper, but for now we’ll make do with pillows, all right?” She led Melanie past a round pedestal table set for supper to the other end of the room, where an overstuffed couch sat against a wall. A fuzzy brown afghan was spread over its back and blue towels covered the cushions. “I keep this old thing here so the men don’t have to change their clothes in the middle of a workday when they want to sit down for a bit,” she explained. “I saw a show on television explaining how to make slipcovers but I haven’t tried it myself. What do you think for fabric, blue brushed corduroy or tan? I bought both because I couldn’t make up my mind.”

“Either one would work,” she said, visualizing the old couch covered with new fabric. “You could do the couch in tan and then make pillows with the blue, if you wanted to bring that color into the room.” Melanie sat down and laid Beth on her back on the middle cushion. The baby blinked at her as if to say Where am I now? “You’re on a ranch,” she told her. “No more trains or trucks for a little while.”

“You poor thing. You must be exhausted and I’m rattling on about decorating.” Jenna leaned over and helped unwrap Beth’s blankets. “Let’s get this little sweetheart settled.”

“I could help you,” Melanie said. “I worked for an interior designer for a couple of years after college, so I love talking about fabric and I’m a pretty good seamstress. Do you have a sewing machine?”

“Yes, but—”

She smiled at Will’s mother. “Good. I may not have made you a grandmother, but I can make you a slipcover.”

JARED STAYED by the door, then reached for his coat. He needed some air, especially after witnessing his mother’s brief euphoria over the thought of having a grandchild. “I’m going back out to get the rest of Melanie’s things.”

“You need help, son?”

“I’m all set.” The last thing he wanted was for Joe to catch pneumonia, though the man was as tough as any forty-year old he’d ever met. Still, there was no sense taking chances. “Just open the door when you see me coming.”

Joe looked out the window at the falling snow. “Boy, we’ve got ourselves a white Christmas now, for sure.”

“Yeah. I wish Will was here, though. If this keeps up he might have trouble getting home tomorrow.” Which was not something Jared wanted to dwell on.

His uncle stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What’s she like, this Melanie girl?”

He shrugged on his coat but didn’t bother to zip it shut. “Nice enough, I guess.”

“You spent hours with her and that’s all you have to say, ‘nice enough’?”

“What do you want me to say?” Every protective urge I never knew I had has rushed through my body and clogged my brain and I want to carry that woman up to my bed and make love to her until she smiles at me again? He wondered what his eighty-two-year-old uncle would say to that. Ready to make his escape, Jared kept one hand on the doorknob.

“I dunno. Maybe reveal a little conversation. You must have learned something about her.”

“Not really.”

“Do you know anything about the baby’s father?”

“You’re asking questions of the wrong man, Uncle Joe. You’ll have to save them for Will.” He turned away, but Joe wasn’t finished talking.

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Joe seemed to be waiting for Jared to agree with him, so he nodded before turning back to open the door.

“Yes. If you like the type.” The snow had covered the truck already, but he could still see their footprints leading to the porch.

“The type? What the hell does that mean? Young folks,” Joe grumbled, waving him away. Jared stepped outside into the storm. He would get Melanie’s suitcases and check on the horses before supper. All he needed was some fresh air and he would forget the ridiculous urge to take Melanie Briggs into his arms.