Snowbound in Montana (16 page)

“He’s not my anything,” Eliza replied, quickly turning so she could see what Caro was talking about.

Sure enough, Marshall was out there. He’d parked his truck across the street and was slowly making his way up the walk toward their front door.

“For the record,” Caro said. “I’d take his rugged good looks over John’s GQ face any day.”

Her sister’s words hardly registered with Eliza. Marshall had stopped when he reached the porch. Now, he was looking like he might be about to change his mind and leave. She couldn’t let that happen. She ran out of the room, and flung open the old walnut door. Cool air and sunshine washed over her as she ran in her slippers across the porch floor, to the top of the stairs.

“Hi, Marshall.” It was such a lame thing to say, but suddenly she was nervous. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. And Trish was right. He
was
ruggedly good-looking, a solid, athletic man who was kind and generous and just about everything a smart woman would ever want.

He didn’t smile, just climbed the stairs, and then stood next to her, keeping a respectable distance between them. “I came to return this.”

He held out a white envelope with his name on it. It took her a moment to realize it was the tip she’d left for him.

She glanced from the envelope to his eyes, which seemed far too serious. She searched for some sign of warmth, or friendliness. She’d never seen his expression so cold. “But—that’s for you.”

“I found the envelope when I was finishing up my paperwork this morning. I can’t take this money from you.”

“It isn’t enough?”

“Damn it, Eliza. The company should be paying you, for all you did. Besides, as a man, I just can’t accept it.”

“But—I don’t understand. Are you angry at me about something?”

Finally, his expression softened. “No. Of course, not.”

He held out the envelope again, but she was afraid if she took it, he’d turn around and she’d never see him again.

“Please talk to me,” she begged him. “Tell me what this is really about.”

He took a deep breath, then turned away from her, staring at something down the road, or possibly at nothing at all. “You told me from the start you were in love with someone else, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you. It’s not your fault, you didn’t lead me on. And I know I could never stand a chance, not next to a guy like that. But—just take the envelope, okay? I have to go.”

When she still wouldn’t take it, he placed it on the porch railing, and then began loping back to his truck.

It took a few seconds for the words he’d said to sink in.

And then Eliza was running after him, her slippered feet skidding a little on the icy walkway. “Wait! Don’t go!”

He’d already crossed the street. When she caught up to him, he had his hand on the driver-side door and was just turning in her direction, when her foot hit a snowy patch. Under the snow was ice. Suddenly, she had no traction whatsoever. Her body pitched forward. And in a flash he was there, sliding under her, breaking her impact with the street.

She gasped as every molecule of air left her lungs. Dazed, she opened the eyes she had involuntarily closed, only to find her face inches from his.

“You okay?” he asked.

Her body rested entirely on his. She had the strange urge to rest her head on his chest. Instead, she used her arms to perform a half-push-up, raising her head and upper chest from his. She could see him more clearly now. Why had she ever thought he wasn’t that handsome?

“You totally saved me. How did you do that?”

“I play baseball. It was sort of like sliding into home.”

“Only in baseball, the other players don’t fall on top of you, do they?”

“Not usually. But maybe they should. In some cases.”

“I suppose I should get off of you and let you stand up.”

“Actually, I’m in no rush.” He reached up and she felt him touch her hair. Then, he wove his fingers through it and cupped the side of her head.

His touch warmed her through and through. She wanted more. But first she had to make a few things clear. “You should know John left Marietta last night. I asked him to.”

“You did?”

“I can’t believe I ever thought he was the love of my life.”

The warmth was back in Marshall’s eyes. “He’s not?”

“Not even a pale imitation.” And then she let her head lower again, bringing her mouth within kissing range.

Marshall needed no further invitation. He closed the last few inches and kissed her tenderly. And then, passionately. For a few minutes she forgot they were lying on the side of the street on a stretch of icy, cold pavement.

But then a car drove by. The driver lowered his window and called out, “Get a room!” But he sounded more amused than offended.

Marshall slipped out from under her, stood, then helped her up as well. For a few moments they just stood by his truck, smiling shyly at one another.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

She couldn’t stop drinking in every nuance about his face, remembering in detail the sweetness of his kisses. Finally, she recalled the conversation from that morning. “Family dinner at the Carrigan ranch. Want to come? It’ll be crazy. Lots of new people. Actually, kind of like the past five days, now that I think of it.”

“I’d rather be alone with you. But I’ll take what I can get.”

‡

W
hen Marshall arrived
at the door of Bramble House at five-thirty, Eliza invited him inside to meet her Aunt Mable. “You look great,” she told him, admiring the contours of his fit, masculine body under his dark-blue cashmere sweater and black-washed jeans.

“You look better.” He took her hands, then kissed her a little shyly. “I’ve been so happy today.”

“Me, too.” She glanced at the big mirror at the far end of the foyer. They made an attractive couple. Even their clothing was complimentary. The scarf she’d worn with her skirt and loose-weave grey sweater, had strands of the same blue as his sweater.

She took him to the library room, where Aunt Mable offered them an aperitif. She looked Marshall up and down, like he was a horse on the auction block, and in turn Marshall was polite, but not cowed.

Conversation began with Mable asking questions about his past, his education and his prospects, before she turned to her own favorite subject—the importance of the Bramble family and their role as first families of Marietta. To his credit, Marshall gave the impression he could have listened to her all night long. But after thirty minutes, Eliza pointed at her watch.

“We have to leave, Aunt Mable, or we’ll be late.”

Being late was not an option. Aunt Mable promptly dropped the subject and enjoined Marshall to drive safely.

“She’s quite the lady, your Aunt Mable,” Marshall said later, when they were out on the road that cut through the valley.

“I hope she didn’t bore you too much. She never married, and the most important thing to her is preserving the Bramble family heritage. When I first moved here, she asked if I would write our family history and she managed to get me hooked on the subject, too.”

“How’s the book coming along?”

“Very nearly finished. The chapter on Beverly Bramble—my father’s sister—is a little sparse, though. My grandparents weren’t happy when she chose to marry Hawksley Carrigan. I suspect there’s more to that story than any of us know about, but I’ve been unable to get permission to read my late Aunt Beverly’s diaries.”

Marshall slowed the truck as they neared the turn-off. Fortunately, the plows had been through and the roads were clear. But the fields and trees had thick blankets of snow and even the barbed wire of the fences were frosted with about an inch of the stuff.

“Have you been down this road before?”

“No, but I’ve hiked a lot in the Gallatin Range. See that peak?” He pointed dead ahead. “That’s Blue Rock Mountain. Great views from up there.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“Then, you will.”

He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. She loved the promise in his words and felt a delicious anticipation for all the possibilities that stretched out before them. The hiking and skiing trips they would take together, but also the quiet moments alone…and in bed. That would happen soon, possibly even tonight, once this dinner was behind them.

They passed the MacCreadie ranch, then the turn-off to the Douglas’s spread. She told Marshall about the terrible tragedy that had happened, shootings that remained unsolved even to today. And then they were passing the Sheenan’s ranch. Up ahead she could see the vast tracts that had belonged to the Carrigans for more than five generations. Thanks to the marriage of her aunt Beverly and Hawksley Carrigan, this place was now a branch of her family, too.

The truck rumbled over the cattle guard as they passed under the wrought iron gate at the top of the Carrigan’s lane. On their left, cattle penned in by barbed wire fences, watched them curiously. Most were solid black, but some had cute white faces. Eliza didn’t know much about ranching or cows, but she was aware that every fall the Carrigans moved their cattle in from the high country so they could be closer to home when the heavy snows fell. She bet the cows had been much happier here, during that last blizzard, than they would have been out in the mountains.

Numerous trucks and a few cars were parked out front of the spacious log home. Beyond were the outbuildings, corrals and more land stretching out to the mountains in the distances. A couple of horses were standing next to one of the barns. They, too, seemed to be interested in their arrival.

“Impressive place.” Marshall parked at the end of the line of vehicles, then killed the engine. He took a deep breath. “I’m ready when you are.”

She took the bottle of wine she’d bought for a gift—Marshall had one, too—and stepped out of the truck. Marshall took her arm. “Don’t want you to slip,” he teased. “Though it was awfully fun last time.”

The tall evergreen that stood in front of the house had been strung with Christmas lights, and a thick cedar wreath hung on the massive front door. Before Eliza could knock, that door was flung open, and the newlyweds, Sage and Dawson, welcomed them inside.

Within minutes, introduction had been made, hugs exchanged, and glasses of mulled wine offered and accepted. Eliza didn’t know how Marshall would ever keep all the names straight. Even she had trouble, and she was family.

Dinner was served at a massive oak table, with room for all of them. Mattie, the oldest daughter, and newly engaged to a very handsome man in his mid-forties, Nat Diamond, stood to make a toast.

“This family has seen a lot of challenges and changes in the past two years. Some of them sad, some of them happy.” At this, she glanced warmly from Sage and Dawson, to Dani’s baby who was being held by her new boyfriend, Eliot, and finally to Nat, who reached over to squeeze her hand.

“I think we can be proud that we survived,” Mattie continued, “and that we all managed to get together this Christmas. Mom would be happy, if she could see us now.”

Eliza felt tears well up at the mention of her Aunt Beverly. It was easy to see, looking around the table, how much her daughters had loved her. What a tragedy that she’d died so young.

“So let’s drink to family,” Mattie concluded. “And please, God, may the New Year be a little less dramatic than the last two.”

Much clinking of glasses, laughter and chatter followed this toast. And then the meal was served, and with each dish came a special family story.

“Remember the time Mattie boiled the potatoes into mush?”

“How about when Sage decided to add chocolate to the gravy?”

Eliza was content to listen, and smile, sometimes laughing, sometimes commiserating. Every now and then Marshall would give her a private smile. She was proud at how easily he fit in and how comfortable he seemed. If she had brought John to a gathering like this one, he would have made himself the center of attention. Marshall didn’t need to do that. But she already knew, that when the need arose, he could take command of any situation.

Though the evening was pleasant, Eliza made their excuses early, soon after the English trifle and coffee dessert had been finished and enjoyed by all. She couldn’t wait for some alone time with Marshall and she guessed he felt the same way.

As they said their farewells, she noticed Callan and Sage whisper something to Dani, who then retrieved a box from under the Christmas tree and passed it to Mattie.

At the front door, Mattie presented the box to Eliza.

“Oh, my. You shouldn’t have.” Was it a gift? But she and the Carrigan girls had never exchanged presents before.

“Actually, we should have given you this a lot sooner. But our father kept them hidden from us, for reasons that will become apparent once you’re read them.”

And then Eliza understood. “Your mother’s diaries?”

“Yes. I’m sorry we’ve been so slow to deliver this to you. Eliza, my sisters and I want you to know we consider you an important member of our family and you’ll always be welcome at the Circle C Ranch.” She gave her a tight hug, and then pointed at the box. “There’s a story in there that needs to be told. And we believe you’re the one to do it.”