Read The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series) Online

Authors: Sylvia McDaniel

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Cowboy, #Fort Worth, #Bride, #Matchmaker, #Christmas 2013, #Western Historical Romance, #Texas

The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series) (11 page)

BOOK: The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series)
11.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Wyatt jumped down and turned to lift her from the wagon and set her down in the soft snow. The wind whipped and pulled at her bonnet while snow stung her cheeks.

“Let me go in first in case there are any critters nesting inside.”

“After you,” she said, huddling behind him.

There was no telling what they might find in that building. There was no telling who had been the last person to sleep there. There was no telling what varmint had made this shack its home.

Wyatt opened the door of the shelter and stepped into the dark musty cabin. He pushed aside a cobweb strung across the opening. Inside the door, hanging from a peg, was a lantern. He took it down and pulled a match from the matchbox he found sitting on a shelf. Soon light flooded the small cabin.

“It looks okay,” he said, glancing around.

“At least we’re out of the weather.” She stood next to him gazing at the starkness of their shelter yet grateful to be out of the storm.

They glanced around the one-room shack to the single bed sitting along a wall. A small table and some dishes on a shelf completed the interior. A wood stove stood in a corner, and Wyatt crossed to the contraption. He opened the door and looked inside. A crate of split logs and kindling sat next to the stove.

“Stand back, Eugenia. You never know if the birds or the wasps may have made the stove pipe their home.”

Eugenia smiled and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to get them warm. “I’m just so happy to see a lighted stove.”

“You and me both,” he said. “I was getting worried.”

“Me too. I didn’t know how we were going to find our way home,” she said, her voice shaking from cold and fear and nerves. They were stranded all alone in a cabin with a single bed and enough desire between them to start a fire.

He glanced at her. “But we’re okay. We found this shelter, and we can stay here until the storm blows over.”

She nodded, too cold to say anything else.

In a matter of minutes, Wyatt had a nice roaring fire started.

He stood up and glanced around the cabin, his eyes finally resting on Eugenia. “Will you be all right while I go out and tend to the horses? I want to get them out of this wind.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll look around to see if I can find us any food,” she said, grateful for a moment alone.

Wyatt walked out the door, his boots making a hollow sound on the floor. She stood there staring at that one bed. She glanced around the room, noting the spare furnishings, the table and chairs, and still her eyes returned to that bed.

A shiver of warm anticipation roared through her body, causing her breathing to quicken. That bed. That blasted, single, tiny bed had her heart racing inside her chest. She couldn’t sleep with him.

She peered out the window and saw Wyatt lead the poor horses to the lean-to. It wasn’t much, but at least they were out of the wind and snow.

She watched him unbuckle the halter from the horse and settle him down with what looked like hay that must have been left behind.

He’d be back here any minute, and all she’d done was stood in the middle of the room and stare at the bed. That bed that would hold two people. She swallowed and willed her feet to move.

Taking her bonnet off, she shook the snow from the top but left her coat on until the stove warmed up the room. Then she began to look in cupboards for anything to eat. Anything that someone might have left behind.

Travis had the line shacks regularly stocked just in case of a situation like this, so hopefully no one had cleared out the canned food.

She came across some dried beans, rice, peaches, and spiced apples she’d canned last summer.

When she opened up the last cabinet to pull out a pan, a mouse came scampering out the door, and she screamed as he ran around her full skirts and under the bed.

The door to the cabin flew open, and Wyatt came running in. “What’s wrong?”

She laughed. “I disturbed a mouse. He frightened me when I opened the cabinet door. He was hiding among the pans.”

Wyatt started laughing. “Where did he go?”

“Under the bed,” she said, pointing to the spot where the critter had disappeared.

“Do you want me to find him and kill him?” Wyatt asked.

She shook her head and gave a shiver. “If you can find him, but they’re pretty quick.”

Wyatt lifted the bed, frame and all. The mouse darted out and hid behind the chair. Wyatt dropped the bed and ran over to the chair, where the mouse scooted behind the box of wood. Wyatt ran over to the box of wood, and the mouse disappeared behind a hole in the cabinets.

She couldn’t contain her laughter as she stood there watching the big cowboy chase a tiny mouse around the room, his boots making enough noise to send the mouse racing from spot to spot. “I think he’s a little faster than you.”

Wyatt stopped for a moment, his breathing labored, and smiled. “He must be younger than me.”

“If you feel more comfortable with him gone, then the mouse has to go,” Wyatt said. His cinnamon brown eyes warmed her from the inside out.

When he looked at her that way, with his gaze all heated and sultry, she wanted to pull him to her and lay her mouth over his until they were both satisfied. But that wouldn’t be good. Not now. Not when they were all alone in this tiny cabin with a single bed.

She shook her head and then showed him her finds. “Don’t worry about him. You’ve scared him, and maybe he won’t come out again.”

He smiled at her. “Good. I would have had a better chance shooting him,” he replied. “Did you find any food?”

“We have about two days’ worth of food. If you like beans, rice, and fruit.”

They wouldn’t be here two days. At first light, they would leave for the ranch.

“It’s enough to sustain us. Usually this type of a storm blows over in a day. We should be able to leave tomorrow,” Wyatt assured her.

“I hope so. My family will be worried,” Eugenia said suddenly feeling wistful for her family.

“Yes, Gus will be wondering what’s happened to me,” he said, his voice trailing off as he turned and stared at the bed.

She couldn’t talk about that bed. Not yet. Not with this big man filling up the space in the cabin, making her feel safe, secure, and warm. Not with them all alone for the first time. Her lungs didn’t seem to want to work when she thought of the two of them isolated here, all night, with one bed.

She couldn’t think about this now. She wasn’t ready to face that single bed. “If you’ll fill the bucket with snow, I could make us a cup of coffee if you’d like.”

“I’d enjoy a cup of coffee, and then I’d like to sit around the fire for a bit and warm up,” he said as he went back out into the snow.

“I’ll get started on the coffee,” she said, needing to do something to keep from staring at that bed.

When he came back in, she packed snow in the coffee pot and put it on the stove.

Wyatt checked the lantern. “We have enough oil to last the night. I think we’re good.”

He pulled up two chairs close to the stove. “Sit down with me, Eugenia.”

Her heart began to pound, and yet she couldn’t deny herself sitting next to Wyatt and relaxing for the first time since they’d left the church. She handed him a cup of coffee, and they sat by the fire, sipping from their tin cups and listening to the wind howl outside the cabin, rattling the window panes and sending a shiver down Eugenia’s spine.

“Do we have enough wood?” she asked, knowing the cabin would cool off in a hurry when the fire died.”Yes, I found a stack in the lean to, and we’ve got enough to last us through tomorrow. I’m hoping we’ll wake up in the morning and this will be gone,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“We don’t get much snow, so it shouldn’t last long,” she said, assuring herself that this was just for tonight. In the morning, he would take her home to the ranch, and they would talk about their adventure. But first they had to get through tonight.

They both stared at the fire.

“I don’t need the bed,” he said. “You take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She glanced over at him, and he refused to meet her gaze. “And use what for a pillow and blankets? Do you think there are extra in this cabin?”

He laughed, his brown eyes glinting in the lantern light. “I guess not. But I can bed down on my coat and use your coat as a blanket.”

She thought for a moment and considered that might work. She slipped out of her coat, realizing the cabin had finally warmed enough that she could take off the outer layer. She’d sleep in her clothes just to stay warm.

“Did you and Beatrice ever get caught in a situation like this?” she asked, trying to fill the uneasy silence, biting her bottom lip.

He glanced over at her and grinned, his full lips inviting. “No. We outran a tornado once, but it lifted back into the heavens before it got too close to us. Scared us plenty. Margie was just a baby, and I didn’t know how I was going to protect them.”

His words chased the chill from her bones. She liked the way he was concerned about protecting his family. It reinforced the fact that he was a good man who safeguarded those he loved.

“Were you and Beatrice happy?” she asked. The atmosphere in the cabin was toasty and cozy and unnerving. All she wanted to do was cuddle with him, and that couldn’t be good. Maybe talking about their previous spouses would cool the charged atmosphere.

She couldn’t let him touch her. She couldn’t let him near her.

He raised one brow at her. “I think so. We didn’t argue much. I would have liked to have had more children, but her health wasn’t good even then. I miss her, but she’s gone, and my life goes on. What about you and Thomas?”

She stared at him and contemplated how she could tell him the truth about her marriage. “You could say we were. I loved him, bore him three sons, and we built a good life together.”

“Why do I sense that there’s a but in there somewhere. You said in the wagon you hated being married. Why?”

She smiled. “Oh yeah, I kind of forgot that I said that to you.”

“Well now is a good time to explain that remark.”

“Thomas was too controlling. Sometimes he felt like he was more my father than my husband. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Thomas. It’s just that since he’s been gone, I’ve felt like a free woman. I live my life without anyone saying what I can and can’t do. I like it that way. There’s no man controlling me.”

Wyatt leaned back in his chair and nodded his head, but then he turned those sultry honey-brown eyes on her, and the charm just seemed to ooze from his gaze. So much that she felt flushed just looking at him.

“You’re a strong woman, Eugenia. I find it hard to believe that you let your husband control you,” he said softly.

Eugenia sighed. Now, she was a strong woman. But she had let Thomas control her. “We married when I was fifteen. I was a kid. I didn’t learn to stand up to Thomas until I was in my thirties, and by that time the mold of our marriage had already been cast. He was in control. There were times I put my foot down, and he learned when I said no, it was no, but that took some years.”

“But don’t you miss the companionship of marriage?”

“No.” She knew she lied.

He hung his head for a moment. “I miss Beatrice. I miss the Beatrice that was healthy and vibrant. The woman who cuddled with me, adored me, and made my life better. Not the sick woman who struggled for so many years. That was hard.”

“She often told me she hated being ill,” Eugenia said.

“I know she did.”

Eugenia bit her lip. How could she be jealous of a dead woman? How could she envy what she’d never had? “I never realized how close you and Beatrice were.”

“We were very close until she became so ill. Then she shut me out. I think she wanted to prepare me for the worst. While I understand why she did it, I still miss her,” he said, not looking at Eugenia but staring into the flames of the crackling stove.

He turned and gazed at Eugenia, his face solemn, his eyes warm. “What if you were married to a man who didn’t want to control you? Would you feel differently about marriage?”

She sat back, stunned, her heart pounding, her body tense. She’d never even considered marriage a second time. It hadn’t been an option she wanted in her life again.

“I don’t know. I like my life now. I’m in control.”

“But you’re alone,” he said. “Beatrice and I were a team. We made decisions together. Neither one of us told the other one what they could and couldn’t do. We respected one another enough that we consulted each other and made decisions together. But if she wanted to go do something, I would have had to lock the woman up to stop her. It wasn’t my place to control her,” he said, his eyes never wavering from Eugenia.

The wind blew hard enough it rattled the door, startling her. She jumped at the noise.

After the shock of losing Thomas had worn off, the years since he’d died were good ones. Years where she’d grown and become more independent than she’d ever dreamed possible for a woman. Being married again sounded like going back to the life where she’d had so little control. She’d never allow another man to dominate her again.

“I don’t know a man who doesn’t expect his wife to let him lead.”

“I don’t want a wife who wants to lead. I want a partner.”

Her mind reeled from his statement, and yet part of her didn’t believe him. She couldn’t fathom a marriage where she would be a partner.

Sleet slammed against the window panes, and Eugenia shivered and gave a little shudder. A rumble of thunder rattled the building.

Wyatt looked out the window. “Wow, that’s quite a storm. It’s a good thing we got out of it when we did.”

“Yes, Eugenia said. “Are you hungry?”

His dark eyes turned on her, and his gaze caused a little catch in her throat. Outside the storm raged, and inside there was another storm brewing. A storm that was much more dangerous than the weather. This one involved hearts and bodies and feelings long denied.

Unable to sit still a moment longer, she jumped up, needing to do something. “I’ll start up that rice and beans I found.”

Her hands were shaking as she found a pan, wiped it out, and then filled it with rice and beans. “It’s not going to be too tasty without a little salt pork, but it’ll be good enough to stop the hunger pains.”

BOOK: The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series)
11.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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