A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas (14 page)

“Dishing up some supper for the hands. They’ve worked hard today, and I figure if we’re eating so well, they ought to have a share.”

Sam stepped into the kitchen. “Smells good, Ma. Hey, Em, your beau is here.”

“I saw him riding up.” Her
beau
. She didn’t take his teasing bait.

“I guess you did.” He studied her outfit. “You look mighty dressed up for a Friday night supper.”

“If I want to dress for supper, I can.” Really, there were times it seemed as if he were five years old again, tagging after her.

“Here.” Ma held a large covered pan in Sam’s direction. “Before you take your coat off, run this out to the bunkhouse for Stu and Bud.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded and took the pan from his mother. “Be right back.”

“I’ll get the door for you,” Emily volunteered and headed for the kitchen door. She flung it open and allowed Sam to pass. “Oh, it’s snowing.”

Lovely white flakes drifted down, peaceful and soft. A breath of wind pelted some of the flakes past her shoulders and into the kitchen.

“What you’re proposing is fairly simple, Mr. Covington. However, this isn’t part of your will?”

“No. Ownership won’t change until after my death, but the land will still belong to the family.”

Zeb Covington stood from behind his desk then went to the window. “A man gets to the age when he knows he’s looking at fewer days ahead of him than behind.”

“Sir, I’d like to think you still have many, many days ahead of you.” Will took more notes.

“Thank you, Mr. Adams. Truth be told, none of us on earth knows. But I want more than my soul to be prepared. I want to know they’re all well taken care of. I’ve seen this place grow from barely a house on the landscape to a thriving town. And someday, after I’m gone, I still want there to be a Covington Ranch.”

“Well, Lord willing, Mr. Covington, that will happen.”

Nodding, Zeb took his seat behind the desk again. “So, young lawyer, I’d like to ask you an important question.”

“Yes, sir?”

“What are your intentions toward my daughter? I understand there’s another young woman, too, who’s come a long way to see you and try out Jackson, to see if it’s to her liking.” Zeb stroked his beard and stared at Will across the desk.

Will met the full force of Zeb’s gaze. “Well, my intentions toward your daughter are entirely honorable. Ever since I’ve been back in Jackson, she’s claimed my attention. Also, she helped save my life. She’s a formidable woman.”

“I’m sure your intentions are honorable. You’re spoken well of in the community, and you’re faithful in church and a temperate man. Not given to rage, but a man more given to prayer, I’m told.”

Will nodded. “Thank you.”

“That said, given you recognize my Emily’s attributes, I won’t tolerate anyone being double minded about her. She doesn’t deserve it. Emily’s not like many women. She’s got her mother’s grace and my backbone.”

If this was how Mr. Covington grilled all of Emily’s suitors, no wonder she still hadn’t landed a husband. Despite the fact there was no woodstove in the room, Will’s forehead beaded with sweat.

“I’ve seen Emily’s attributes, like I said. And I would never want to hurt her, or cause her pain.”

“But you have this young woman, traipsing around as if she’s waiting for you to propose. Again.”

“Sir, I had nothing to do with her coming here. I didn’t encourage it, not in the least. I’ve told her, too, that I’m not leaving Jackson, not for her, or anyone.”

“Yet still, she stays. Which is why I need to know: if you’re not intending to marry my daughter, tell her so. I’d rather her know now, than let more time go by and her end up heartbroken. You proposed marriage at one time to this Miss Clark. That’s a very serious thing, indeed.”

“Yes, it is. However, I’d always told her I planned to return west one day, and not stay in the East.”

Zeb nodded slowly. “Then for Miss Clark’s sake, I hope you convince her she’s not the one for you.”

Will tried not to squirm on his chair. Yes, Zebulon spoke the truth. Every day that Amelia remained in the West was one day closer to a broken heart, and one day closer to being stuck in Jackson for the remainder of the winter.

He had a sudden recollection of a summer’s day, out fishing with his father.

“My father used to have a saying he told me when I was a little boy: fish, or cut bait.”

“I’d say that’s excellent advice, Mr. Adams.”

T
he snow continued to fall during supper as they sat, swapping stories and telling jokes while the wind howled something fierce outside.

Emily’s heart sang at seeing Will again across the supper table. She had to keep reminding herself that both Pa and Mother, along with Sam, sat at the table with them also. Yet in some ways, it might as well have been a private table in a restaurant, with just the two of them chatting and laughing away.

His eyes, a soft brown in the lamplight, gleamed as he chuckled over one of Sam’s jokes.

Another howl of wind drowned out some of the laughter. Mother frowned and stepped to the door, tugging it open. A blast of icy air and a swirl of snow whipped past her.

“I declare, there’s more than six inches on top of the snow we already have.” She turned to face them.

“Son, I’d suggest you stay here with us tonight,” Pa said. “We have the room, and it’s not fit to travel in weather like this. Should be all right in the morning, though, as long as the snow’s stopped.”

“If it’s not an imposition, I don’t mind.” Will glanced at Emily, who dropped her gaze to study her coffee cup.

He’d stayed at the house overnight before, the evening she’d found him lost in the hills. But that night was different. She’d been cranky at him and probably, no definitely, hadn’t been the best hostess. Tonight, however, the idea of a few more hours with Will made her heart pound a bit faster.

“Then I’ll get extra blankets, and you’re welcome to sleep on the sofa, as before.” Mother cleared empty plates from the table, and Emily followed suit.

“I’ll do the dishes, Mother.”

“And I’ll help.” Will moved to stand.

“No, you don’t have to, Will. You’re our guest.” She felt three other pairs of eyes watching her as she stacked the plates beside the sink.

“I’ve got some animals I need to see to, if you’re volunteering assistance with chores,” Sam said.

Pa snorted. “I think you’re fine working on your own.”

Emily’s face flamed, and she was grateful for the lamplight hiding her expression.

“I was joking, Pa. I already saw to the animals.” Sam grinned and shrugged. “Well, I’m off to look at some gear in the Sears catalog. Looking for new hiking boots.”

“One of these days, we’ll have a real hot water heater, instead of using the stove.” Mother went to lift the pot of steaming water from the stove, but Pa stopped her.

“Here, I’ll do that, and leave the kids to take care of the kitchen for us.” Pa winked at Mother as he stepped from the stove to the sink. He filled it with water then set the pot to the side for rinsing.

After her parents retired to the parlor, Emily set to washing the dishes, with Will picking up a towel to dry them.

She decided to inquire about Amelia straightaway, and not put it off. “How is Amelia doing, being here in Jackson?”

“She’s doing all right, I believe. She’s not fond of the muddy streets, but I expect with tonight’s snowstorm, it’ll make things prettier to her.”

“I can imagine everything must seem so … different … here, than back East. Especially for someone seeing it for the first time.” Emily handed him a dinner plate. “I’ve seen pictures of back East, the tall buildings standing close together, all the people swarming like flies in the streets.”

“What pictures were those?”

“Of New York.”

“I’ve been to New York, twice.”

“I’d like to see it, someday, just to say I’ve been. But Jackson will always be my home.”

“Maybe someday we’ll see New York together.”

His words made her stop rinsing the last of the forks and spoons. She held them above the water. “Maybe.”

“Listen, about Amelia … I’ve decided, once and for all, I don’t want to renew our engagement. She’s not going to be happy here.”

“But, do you love her? How do you know she won’t be happy here? Has she been here long enough to know?” She handed him the jumble of forks and spoons.

“You almost sound as if you’re trying to plead her case.”

“No, I’m not. But people can change. My mother was as citified as they come, and she came out here thinking she was going to change the West. Of course, she was very young and wanted to teach young women manners and social graces. The West changed her, but she’s still the most well-mannered woman I know. She learned to live here. What’s to say that Amelia won’t learn to do the same? Would you change your mind about her if she did?” She had to speak the words, to voice the worry inside her. She picked up a clean dishcloth and wiped her hands.

She watched him pause then sit down at the table. He said nothing more, so she continued.

“See? You don’t know. If you’re not certain, then …” Emily shook her head.

“Then what?”

At that moment, Sam entered the kitchen. “I meant to tell you, I didn’t feed the dogs tonight.” He glanced from Emily to Will.

“That’s all right, I’ve some scraps here I can feed them.” Emily picked up the bowl where she’d scraped the plates. “I need to get my coat.”

“Sorry, I think I just walked into something right now.” He slowly backed from the kitchen.

“Don’t be sorry, I need to see to the dogs anyway,” Emily said. “Thanks for offering, Sam.”

She never knew it could be like this, having feelings for someone and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Love ought to be easier, oughtn’t it?

“I’ll come with you,” Will offered, heading for his coat hanging on a set of pegs.

She didn’t say anything but allowed him to follow her outside, into the wind and snow. The cold nearly sucked the breath from her body, and the wind stung her face almost as much as it had the night they’d searched for Will in the foothills.

He pulled open the barn door for her, the door scraping back the new-fallen snow piling against the barn.

“Thanks,” she called out to him then stepped into the barn’s warmth. A few greetings from the horses, the bang of a hoof from one of the cows rang against the barn wall.

Will pushed the door shut. “There. Now that we’re alone, with no chance of interruption, we need to talk.”

The dogs’ barking almost masked the sound of his words as Emily headed for the dog pen. “Hello, my beautifuls.” She entered the pen then scraped the contents of the bowl into a feeder. Their watering bowls needed filling, but melted snow should work for water supply.

She sank onto the pile of straw in the corner, where the dogs liked to sleep, and the whole passel of them darted between her and the bowl of food. Will stood on the other side of the partition separating the dog pen from the rest of the barn, and smiled at her.

She’d been honest about Amelia and he’d had a slow response. Well, she gave the man credit. She’d seen both of her brothers flummoxed before when posed with a tough question, so Will becoming speechless wasn’t quite a surprise to her. What had she expected? Him to proclaim his love for her and describe how he’d carefully spurn Amelia?

Emily cleared her throat. “All right, we can talk.”

Will opened the little gate and joined Emily with the dogs, who immediately surrounded him, sniffing and barking. Dogs were often good judges of character, and after the sniffing and barking ended, they went back to the food. But Niki moved to Emily’s side and stared at Will with her large dark eyes.

“I wanted to say, about Amelia. I wanted to be sure. I wanted to be … to be fair to her.” Felix nosed one of Will’s hands, and he leaned over to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “She came so far. I wanted to know. Because choosing someone to love is a big decision.”

Emily stood, realizing then she’d just gotten straw on her best Sunday skirt. “Yes, it’s a very big decision.”

“But I will tell her, next time I see her.” He took a few steps closer to her, the dogs ever watchful.

“When will that be?”

“This weekend; I expect I’ll see her at church on Sunday.”

“I see.”

He was close enough now, she could see the hint of stubble on his chin. Then he lowered his mouth to hers and pulled her into his arms.

Every nerve ending from her scalp to her toes came alive. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe. Her first kiss, from the man she loved. Surely, he must love her, too, kissing her this way. In the circle of his arms, she couldn’t hear the sound of the wind outside anymore.

“Are you better now?” he asked.

“Much better.” And she smiled at him.

T
he Christmas caroling night had perfect weather, a full moon and a crisp winter chill in the air. Inside the Covington’s home, Emily hummed as she laid greenery across the mantle. More candles and the effect would be beautiful, peaceful.

Soon the guests would arrive, bringing festive treats as they were able, a musical instrument. Rumor had it Gus Tolliver would even play his fiddle.