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Authors: A Husband for Holly

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BOOK: Jodi Thomas
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3

“I’ve more steak in the kitchen—if you’re still hungry?” Holly asked as Zach finished off the last piece of meat on the platter. She’d never seen one man eat so much at one time.

He looked slightly guilty. “I’m sorry. Do I look like I’m starving? It’s only that I haven’t eaten a meal since I boarded the train. The food in the shacks along the stops didn’t seem worth the time to run and get. Now, I can’t get full.”

Holly smiled. “Don’t apologize. I’m the worst cook in the state, and watching you eat my cooking is a treat. Folks usually make up reasons why they can’t eat another bite.” She stood and picked up the empty platter. “How about I fry you a few eggs to go with the last of the meat?”

Zach wanted to be polite and say, “No, thank you,” but the thought of fresh eggs was too much to turn down. He followed Holly into the huge kitchen, and watched as she overcooked a half dozen scrambled eggs. While he ate every bite, she began hanging the greenery around the room and tying tiny Christmas bells to each branch. Without making eye contact, they found it easier to talk of ordinary things, of safe topics. She told him the story of how her father had built the cabin of railroad ties that had washed downstream. He described the train ride west. There was no talk of marriage, or war, or of him staying.

Zach couldn’t help watching her move with a grace about her no amount of men’s clothing could ever hide. He could almost see what her parents must have been like. Her mother small and dainty, her father strong and capable. She’d inherited the best from both of them. He’d never met a woman like her. A woman who could take care of herself, and who didn’t seem to need or want a man to lean on.

As he finished the last of the coffee, he said, “I’m truly sorry about the mix-up over the ad, but I’m not sorry I came to Texas. This open land looks like as good a place as any I’ve seen to start over.”

Holly didn’t respond, and he wondered if she’d heard. Finally, she climbed down from the chair she’d been using as a ladder and asked, “Why
did
you answer the ad, Mr. Hamilton?”

Her question was too direct to be answered any other way. “I don’t know. I spent most of the war dreaming of going home, and when I did there was nothing there for me. Even the woman I thought I loved didn’t wait for me to return. So I took a few months leave before deciding whether to re-up, and then I tried to drink my troubles away. Not in the sloppy-town-drunk kind of way, but alone in one hotel room after another. Finally, I woke up one morning and didn’t know what town I was in. I went downstairs, and there were strangers everywhere; no one I cared about or who even noticed me. So I bought a paper and ordered another bottle sent to my room. Before the bottle was delivered, I read your strange ad and decided any direction was better than the one in which I was headed.”

Holly moved closer and sat down across from him as he continued, “I wanted a place away from people for a while.” He couldn’t tell a lady what it had been like in the Confederate prison camp with thousands of men on only a few acres. Just the smell had made most new prisoners sick for days. “I want to stand and watch the sun rise and set every day of my life without seeing people between me and the horizon.”

Holly jumped to her feet, as if she were the very genie he’d called for. “Well, come on, Mr. Hamilton. If you’re up to a little ride, I’ll show you the sunset from the end of my spread before you leave. It’s just like you want to see, nothing but nature to color the view.”

“After that meal, I think I could use a little exercise.” With food under his belt, he could almost believe he could do anything. Maybe if he started eating and sleeping regularly, the fever would stay at bay.

Zach grabbed his warm wool riding coat and headed toward the door. He wasn’t surprised to see Holly pull a man’s leather jacket from the peg. When he offered to help her put it on, she pulled away without a word.

They walked out of the house into the yard of the huge ranch. She yelled at one of the men to saddle two horses, then turned to Zach. “This is my world, Mr. Hamilton, We can ride about a mile west and watch the sunset along the breaks.”

Zach looked around at the cluster of buildings. Bunkhouses, barns, well house, all cared for properly. The ranch was like a place he’d dreamed of for years. A place large enough and far enough away from others that it could be a little world unto itself.

Sam limped from the main bunkhouse so fast, he looked like a top about to spin. “Howdy, Captain.” The old man smiled as though he was surprised to see the Yankee still alive. “I didn’t hear any yelling coming from Holly’s house, so I figured she’d either killed you or the two of you had made up.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Sam.” Holly stepped between him and Zach. “We’re just going for a ride. My Christmas present goes back to town tomorrow. And don’t try to tell me you didn’t hear me.”

Sam looked disappointed. “Of course, Holly. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” A touch of anger colored her cheeks. “A husband for Christmas is about the worst idea you two have ever come up with.”

A ranch hand led two horses from the barn, distracting her from any other comment. Zach moved to help Holly up, but again she skirted away from his touch. She swung into the saddle with ease atop a huge roan. “This is Cinnamon.” The mane of the horse almost matched the color of Holly’s hair. “I raised her from the time she first stood, and I’m the only one who rides her.”

Zach nodded his approval of the horse and walked around her to the other mount. As he climbed into the saddle, his muscles strained from the lack of riding. Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he hid his discomfort.

“Have a nice ride.” Sam smiled at them as if his mind were already moving on to another plan. “Some of the boys and I will carry in the Christmas tree while you’re gone.”

Holly kicked her horse into action. “You can ride, can’t you, Yankee?”

“I can ride,” Zach answered as he followed, praying he could keep up with the little lady.

They rode west at a gallop and after a short distance, Zach felt his body responding to the feel of the powerful animal moving beneath him. The exertion seemed to build his strength as they rode over the open country toward a long line of low cliffs she’d called breaks.

She reached them first and encouraged Cinnamon to follow the trail leading to the top. His horse followed, with Zach showing a little of the skill in horsemanship he’d learned in the cavalry.

As they reached the summit, the sun was just touching the horizon. Zach pulled up beside her, and watched as yellow gold spilled out across the land.

“It’s fabulous!” he whispered. “The ground looks like it’s on fire for miles.”

“I know,” she answered. “I’ve been riding to this spot most of my life to watch it. My dad told me the sun just drops from sight in the mountains where he grew up. One minute it’s there, and the next, it’s gone. But here the sun spreads out and puts on a show, as if it doesn’t want to die. And after the sun disappears, the clouds still glow with its light, as though remembering the warmth for as long as possible.”

Zach could never remember seeing such a magnificent sight. The thought that she could watch it daily almost made him jealous. “Thank you,” he finally said, “for sharing your sunset with me.”

“You’re welcome,” she answered, reluctantly turning her horse back to the path toward home.

As they rode among the shadows, he finally broke the silence. “Why wouldn’t you allow me to help you into the saddle back there? Or on with your coat in the cabin?”

“I’m not in the habit of having someone help me do anything.”

Zach took a deep breath and dove into what he had to say. This wasn’t a woman who’d give him a second chance, so he might as well be direct at his one try. “You know how you said your father had rules he followed, like hospitality and a Christmas Eve party?”

“Yes.” She slowed her horse, intrigued.

“Well, where I come from, we have a few rules also. My mother was a fine woman, and she’d have had my hide if I didn’t offer to assist a lady on or off a horse, or help a woman into her coat with the proper amount of manners.”

“I’m not helpless,” Holly started. “I’m able to . . .”

“Being able has nothing to do with it, Miss McCarter. It’s a matter of custom, nothing more.”

Holly was silent. No one had reminded her of her manners since her father died. Not Luther or Sam or anyone else around the place. Whatever she said was fact, and no one questioned her. She wasn’t sure she liked this Zachary Hamilton, but she couldn’t help being intrigued by the idea that he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her.

“I’ll not be pampered.” She raised her chin and looked straight ahead.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t seem to keep the corner of his mouth from lifting slightly. “But would you consider allowing me to pay you the common courtesy when we return, for my dear departed mother’s sake?”

“I might.” Holly kicked her horse. “If you’re there when I reach the barn.”

Zach was beside her in a heartbeat as they raced toward the barn’s glowing lanterns.

Minutes later, Sam’s smile reached all the way to the laugh lines around his eyes as he watched Holly slide from her saddle into Zach’s waiting arms. They only touched for a moment, but Sam felt the earth shift in his world. He slapped Luther on the back, and suddenly decided that he believed in Christmas magic.

4

Holly watched Zach build the fire in the huge corner fireplace while she warmed milk for hot cocoa. He was not an easy man to read. He seemed to have enough pride for several men, yet he’d answered an ad to be anybody’s husband. Since their ride, conversation had flowed calmly between them, light with laughter and flavored in honesty. He was, and always would be, a stranger she’d met for a few hours, but she felt she could learn from this proper Yankee with his good manners and true stare.

She didn’t need a Gypsy palm reader to tell her something was wrong with her. She’d known it from the time she’d turned fifteen and Sam had dragged her to a barn raising and dance. Holly had wanted to giggle and whisper with the other girls, but she had had no idea what they were laughing about. If there was a barn to be built, it seemed more practical to grab a hammer and climb. The men at first had been shy around her, but by the time the barn was completed, they’d welcomed her as one of their own. Only, when the dance started, not a one welcomed her as a dance partner.

As Holly filled the cups with steaming cocoa, she made up her mind. She’d talk with this Zach Hamilton, and learn how she should act. It would be no great embarrassment, for he’d be gone tomorrow morning, and she’d never have to face him again.

“Thanks,” he said, as he stood and took one of the mugs from her hand. “I don’t remember the last time I had a cup of cocoa.”

“It’s one of the few things I fix that I don’t burn.” Holly tried to sound relaxed. She curled cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire. The smell of evergreen blended with the aroma of burning pinion. This house, this room was the only place Holly felt comfortable, and even tonight the stranger before her couldn’t take away that feeling.

Zach took a sip. As the warm chocolate slid down his throat, he glanced around the room. “The men picked a fine Christmas tree. It’s as high as the ceiling, yet not so wide that it takes up too much space. They must have worked all the time we were gone to get up the rest of the greenery. There’s even mistletoe over every doorway.”

Holly nodded, remembering how every year the hands took all the furniture out of the huge room and invited the neighbors over for Christmas Eve. The cook in the bunkhouse would make gingerbread, apple turnovers, and taffy for the children. Most of the wives would bring other candies and cakes, until the kitchen table bulged with the banquet. “We’ll decorate the tree with cookie stars and ribbon rings. There’ll be lots of talking and laughing and even dancing tomorrow night in this room. It’ll be days before I’ll stop smelling evergreen and candles, but it’s a McCarter custom dating back to when there were only a few families within traveling distance.”

Zach relaxed in the chair close to the fire and crossed his long legs in front of him. “You’ll dance all night with the many ranchers and cowhands from these parts?”

Holly knew her time of honesty had come. If she didn’t tell him the truth now, she’d never get any instructions. She’d spend the rest of her life ranch talking with men and never know how to talk romance. “No.” She lifted her head, as if daring him to laugh. “I don’t own a dancing dress or know how to dance, even if I did. I learned a long time ago to only do things I’m good at. Dancing isn’t one of them, so I’m satisfied to watch.”

Zach leaned closer. The longing in her green eyes made a lie of what she said. “Would you like to learn?” he asked.

“You’d teach me?”

“For showing me your sunset, it’s the least I can do.” Zach stood and bowed low. “May I have the honor, Miss McCarter?”

Holly lifted her hand. “You may,” she whispered, feeling more afraid than she had facing down wild mustangs. “If you promise not to tell anyone I’m wasting my time so foolishly.”

“You have my word.” His strong hand closed around hers and pulled her to her feet. Slowly, as if he were testing her seriousness, he moved in front of her. He lifted her left hand and placed it on his shoulder. “I’ll count, and all you have to do is follow.”

He counted to four over and over while they moved about the room, and Holly slowly relaxed. Dancing wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it might be. His sure hand guided her and steadied her when she faltered.

“Why have you never danced before?” he asked without stopping. This might seem a foolishness to her, but it was pure pleasure to him. There’d been a time in his life when he’d never thought he’d hold a woman and dance again.

“No one ever asked me,” she stated flatly, wishing she had another reason to give him.

“I find that hard to believe,” Zach responded.

Suddenly Holly planted her feet wide and refused to move another step. “I’m not in the habit of lying, Yankee.” Anger sparked inside her like lightning striking a dry prairie. No one in her life had ever even hinted that she might lie. She knew men in this country who would kill someone for saying such a thing.

But Zach’s anger rose to meet hers on equal ground. “And I’m not in the habit of being referred to constantly as ‘Yankee.’ Do you think you could use my name now and then when you’re yelling at me, so I’ll know you’re mad at me and not the entire upper half of the country?” His voice was calm, but she had a feeling his wrath was just as deadly as her own.

Before either of them could move, the door swung open, and Sam hurried inside. “Wind’s getting up, Holly, you want me to . . .” He froze at the sight of Holly in Zach’s arms.

She pulled away from the stranger, trying to act as if her being in a man’s arms was not the eighth wonder of the world Sam appeared to think it was. “We’d best move the horses into the corral by the barn. I don’t want them spooking again.”

“I’ll help.” Zach moved with her to their coats.

“No, Yank . . .” Holly hesitated. “Zach. I don’t need a man helping who doesn’t know his way around the grounds after dark. The corral can be tricky. You stay here. I’m capable of running a ranch, even if I can’t dance.”

She knew he would’ve argued if he’d known her better, but a guest on an unfamiliar ranch had no choice. She appreciated his offer. “Sam, you stay here, too. With that bad knee of yours, we’re liable to be pulling you out of the mud.”

“All right.” Sam was already taking off his coat, as if he’d known he’d be staying behind. He touched his knee, which always seemed to give him trouble when any work appeared after sunset. “I need to talk with this here young fellow anyway.”

Zach stood silent as he watched Holly pull on her coat. He could still feel her in his arms, and her fresh smell lingered, if only in his mind. He wanted to stop her, but he knew she was doing what she did every day of her life—the only thing she seemed to feel comfortable doing: being a rancher.

When Zach finally turned back to the fire, Sam had made himself comfortable in the only chair. “I know what you’re going to say, old man, and there’s no need.” Zach wanted to make it clear to Sam before the old guy started giving him warnings and threats. “I realize I’ll be sleeping under the same roof as Holly, but I assure you I’m a gentleman, and she has nothing to fear.”

Sam hooted with laughter so loud, Zach was worried about the man’s sanity. When finally he quieted down, Sam shouted, “Son, it wasn’t Holly’s safety I was worried about; it was yours! You can bet that if you do anything to displease her, she’ll have you tied to the hitching post come morning.”

Sam shifted the tobacco in his mouth and looked toward the door. “I best get going.” He shoved himself
from the chair. “Consider yourself warned. Don’t dance with the devil’s daughter unless you can take the heat.” He slapped Zach on the back like he probably wouldn’t see the man alive again.

As the door slammed behind the old man, Zach folded into the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. He was too tired to think about anything. It seemed a million years since he’d watched the sunrise at the train station. For the first time in months, he fell asleep without the taste of whiskey in his mouth or the memory of the war on his mind.

The fire was low when he heard the door open. He didn’t move while Holly took off her coat, gun belt, and boots. She’d been gone for hours, but she looked as fiery and beautiful as before.

Keeping one eye open slightly, he watched her tiptoe across the room to a huge wardrobe. She glanced his direction, then, satisfied he was asleep, unbuckled her belt.

Zach felt guilty for spying on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to move and announce that he was awake. The gentleman in him told him to keep his eyes closed; the man in him wouldn’t allow it. He knew there was nowhere else to get undressed that was as warm as this room.

The wool trousers slipped from her hips to the floor with a soft plop. Her oversized shirt hung almost to her knees, hiding all but a quick glimpse of her legs. She pulled her arms into the shirt, and he thought she was going to pull the huge garment over her head; but instead, she began unwrapping a long strip of white cotton from around her chest.

Zach had heard his mother talk of women binding their breasts when they wanted to stop nursing babies, but he’d never known a woman to do so otherwise.

When she finished, Holly tossed the binding in a drawer and put her arms back into the shirt. Tiptoeing over to where Zach sat, Holly gently covered him with a blanket. “Good night, Yankee,” she whispered.

For a long moment she stared at him, and then, convinced he was sound asleep, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his. “Thank you for my first dance and my first kiss.”

Her lips were the featherlight of a wish across his mouth, but they sparked his mind with longing.

She was on the second rung of the ladder to the loft when he stopped her. “Wait!” Zach closed his fingers over her hands, resting on either side of the ladder.

Holly almost lost her footing. “You’re awake!”

He could feel her hands trembling beneath his, but her eyes were afire with challenge. The wind had blown her hair wild and free, while the night’s chill had stroked a blush into her cheeks. Her beauty could never be captured in a painting, he thought, for the artist would have to hold the fire in a sunset and the wonder of a forest in winter to do her justice.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Zach could barely make words form, his heart seemed to be pounding in his throat. “I had to stop you before you were gone for the night.” He couldn’t let her just walk away after the way she’d touched him. “Why did you kiss me just now?”

Holly’s cheeks burned, but her chin didn’t lower a fraction. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’ll wait ’til the prairie floods.”

“I’m not wanting an apology; I’m wanting an answer. Why did you kiss me just now?”

“Why did you act like you were asleep?”

Zach leaned an inch into the ladder, pinning her between him and the wooden rungs. “I’ve heard folks in Texas are hospitable, but I don’t believe that includes a good-night kiss to every stranger spending the night.”

Holly twisted to face him. “And I’ve heard folks around these parts call a kiss a ‘Yankee dime.’”

Zach couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me why you kissed me, Holly.”

She looked as if she longed to swear, but she answered, “I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a man. You’ll be gone tomorrow, and then if anyone ever asks me if I’ve been kissed, I can say yes without lying.”

“So you thought you’d practice on me until a man you think is right for you comes along?” He couldn’t hide his smile. He could tell by her face that he’d guessed the truth.

“Maybe,” she answered.

“Don’t you think you should get your money’s worth on that ‘Yankee dime?’” He leaned closer and lightly brushed her lips.

Until she’d kissed him, he hadn’t thought there’d be a chance of him ever being this close to her. But the touch of her lips had changed his mind.

“Kissing is like dancing,” he whispered against her cheek. “All it takes is a little practice.”

“And you’ll teach me?” She moved her head so that his lips brushed across her cheek. “Then you’ll be gone tomorrow, and no one will know of the lessons?”

“If that’s the way you want it, pretty lady,” he answered, having trouble putting words together when all he could think of was touching her lips again.

Very slowly he leaned against her, pressing Holly back against the rungs of the ladder. His mouth opened slightly as he tasted her full bottom lip.

“Put your arms around me,” he ordered gently.

“Like this?” she asked with her hands on his shoulders. He could feel her tremble, but knew it was more from adventure than passion.

“No.” Dear Lord, she was driving him insane with her innocence. “Tighter.”

She followed his instructions, pulling him into contact with her body. His arms slid around her and lifted her off the ladder. He knew her feet weren’t touching the floor, but he couldn’t release his hold. The feel of her against him was a heaven he’d never even known to dream of.

Suddenly, he could play the game no longer. Kissing her was not a sport or a lesson, but a need so great he’d have died for the pleasure. He lowered his lips and claimed her mouth with a
force that surprised them both.

A kiss meant to be chaste and light, turned warm and demanding. To his surprise, she responded in kind, learning from each move he made. There was a wonder about her that rocked his world at its foundation. This strong, self-sufficient female was all woman beneath her wrappings and more passion than most men could handle.

Finally, he broke the kiss and moved to her ear. “I don’t think you need much practice. You seem to be a natural at this, lady.”

“Again,” she demanded, loving the way he made her feel. For the first time in her life, she was glad she was a woman. She loved the hard wall of his chest against her heart and the warm feel of his arms around her waist.

Zach couldn’t keep his hands from shaking as he lowered her to the floor and cupped her face. “I’m afraid if I kiss you again, it will be more, and I don’t relish being tied to the hitching post come morning.”

Holly looked confused. “I thought you enjoyed the kiss?”

“I did. Don’t press your luck on me being a gentleman if I taste those lips again and feel your soft breasts pressed against me with just enough pressure to drive a man mad.”

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