The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series) (8 page)

“Do you want to sit on the swing?” he said, pointing to the swing he’d built Beatrice on the porch.

“No,” she said, cutting him off and taking a step back from him. “Did you talk to my grandson about us yesterday?”

Wyatt looked stunned for a moment. “No, he asked me some questions.”

“You didn’t tell him that you were going to ask me to marry you?” she asked, her sapphire eyes flashing at him.

Wyatt shrugged. “He asked me if I had a wife. I told him no, so then he offered you up to be my wife. What could I do? If I said no, then the boy would think that I didn’t like you or I was lying to him. So I said yes, I would ask you to marry me.”

An innocent conversation would now be strung up, and Wyatt might as well swing from a rope because at the end of the day, she would still be mad enough she’d think he did this on purpose.

“I had to explain to him on the ride home why I could never marry you,” she said with a rush. “I had to tell this sweet child that I never intended to marry another man,” Eugenia said, her body tense.

Wyatt took a deep breath and tried to calm her down. “I’m sorry. It was an innocent conversation. I had no idea where it was going until he started asking me to ask you to marry me,” he said. Then leaned over and whispered. “You should have ridden home with me.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Eugenia bristled like a porcupine ready for battle.

She stepped closer to him, her blue eyes flashing with enough heat to set the prairie afire. “I don’t need you, Wyatt. You have managed to finagle your way into my family. You have convinced my children that I would be better off with you by my side.” Her voice rose. “But I have no intentions on ever marrying again.”

Wyatt reached out and pulled her to him. His lips covered hers, his mouth greedily drinking from her mouth. He held her until he felt her body relax, her mouth opening for him to plunder.

His mouth effectively shut her up. He was tired of her protests. He was tired of her refusing him. He wanted her willing and wanting.

She pushed away from him. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m trying to put a stop to this, and you’re kissing me.”

He wanted to laugh, but she was riled up madder than a bantam rooster at a cockfight. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. The time was upon them to either make hay or go their separate ways.

“If it’s over because your grandson is smart enough to see the attraction that you’re denying, then I wanted to end it properly. I wanted to give you a send-off that will hopefully keep you awake at night,” he said, his voice lowering. “I want you to miss me.”

Her brows drew together in a frown, and she stared at him. “I like my life. I don’t need a husband.”

He touched the rim of his hat with his fingers. “Okay, then like I said, I wanted to give you a proper send-off.”

She crawled back up in her wagon.

“I’ll see you Tuesday, Eugenia.”

She gave him a quizzical glance. “At rehearsal?”

“Yes, rehearsal.”

She hesitated. Finally she turned the wagon around, and Wyatt watched it roll out of the gate.

Damned woman refused to recognize the attraction between them. He didn’t want to give up, but what else could he do?

If they were going any further, she had to come to him.

#

As Eugenia urged the horses through Wyatt’s gate, she took a deep breath and sighed. That had certainly gone well. Hadn’t it? He’d agreed with her, and she’d believed him right up until the moment he kissed her.

Then the doubts overwhelmed her. Was she doing the right thing? Was her grandson right, and she should really consider Wyatt? Was he like her previous husband and had to control everything?

Still, so far he’d remained in the background for the Christmas pageant.

The man had so many good qualities about him that she liked, but she didn’t want to get married again. She didn’t want to be under the control of a man again.

So, why was she leaving with her chest aching and her heart bruised and battered? Why was she suddenly doubting her decision?

She needed Wyatt to be unavailable. She had to find him another woman. A lucky woman who wanted to marry. A woman who would make him happy. A woman who would put him out of reach for Eugenia.

She slapped the reins against the horses back and headed the wagon into town to Myrtle’s house. Now there was a woman looking to find a man.

#

The next day, Wyatt heard a timid knocking, and for a moment he hoped it was Eugenia returning, though he doubted she’d be out again.

He opened the door and there stood Myrtle Sanders, her hands shaking, holding a covered dish. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Damn Eugenia was up to it again.

“Good morning, Myrtle. How are you today?”

She bit her lip nervously and handed him the casserole dish. “Here. I don’t think for a moment that you’re interested in me, but Eugenia told me to bring you this dish. She said you’d know what it meant.”

He took the ceramic pan from her. “Thank you, Myrtle. Can I invite you in for a cup of tea or coffee?”

“Oh no. I just wanted to do what Eugenia asked me and bring you the casserole.”

Myrtle delivering a casserole dish meant Eugenia was back to finding him a woman. Someone she could handpick and make him unavailable. What if he gave her what she wanted? What if he asked Myrtle to help him?

“Myrtle, I know the men and I will enjoy this very much. Thank you. But when Eugenia asks you how the meeting went, would you do me a favor? Would you tell her that you and I are having lunch Sunday after church? Don’t misunderstand me, you’re a lovely woman, but I think it’s time Eugenia needs to realize that what she’s doing could be hurtful to those of us who care about other people.”

For a moment he thought he’d gone too far. She considered his words, and then she smiled.

“Wyatt, you care about Eugenia, don’t you?”

“Yes, and she refuses to admit she cares about me. I think she does, but she won’t let me close enough to know,” he admitted. “You would be helping me out.”

She laughed. “Eugenia deserves this. She’s sent me out here twice, and both times I told her you weren’t interested in me.”

Wyatt held his breath, hoping she’d help him.

“I’d love to have lunch with you tomorrow, Wyatt. It will be our one and only special date.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and felt his muscles relax. He was back in the game. He was back in the hunt. He smiled at her. “Thank you, Myrtle.”

“Well, I better get back. After church tomorrow, I’ll walk out with you, and then we can have lunch together.

Wyatt laughed. “Thanks, Myrtle, and my men really enjoyed your dish the last time. I’ll bring back the pan tomorrow and hand it to you directly.”

She smiled. “See you tomorrow, Wyatt.”

#

Gus looked at the casserole dish that Wyatt sat in front of him that evening in the house.

“Oh no, another casserole,” Gus said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Is this Eugenia’s?”

Wyatt sighed. “No.”

“Good God almighty, she’s still sending you women, and you’re still pining like a lily-livered sapsucker for her,” his ranch foreman said, gazing at him like he was the biggest fool this side of the Red River. Maybe he was.

“No, I’m not,” Wyatt said.

“Then why such a face?”

“I have a plan.”

“Another one. It’s not like the last four or five have worked. How is this one going to be different?” Gus asked, leaning back in his chair to look at Wyatt.

“Myrtle has agreed to be my pretend date at lunch this Sunday at the café,” Wyatt said, not knowing if what he was doing would work or just drive a further wedge between him and Eugenia. Any chance of the two of them being together was running out of time. This was their last opportunity.

“And Myrtle knows you’re just using her to get even with Eugenia?”

“She agreed.”

Gus shook his head and laughed. “I think I’ll go to the café on Sunday just so I can witness this touching scene.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Show up. I have nothing to hide.”

“When are you going to give up on this woman? If she wanted you, don’t you think the two of you would be finding a preacher man?”

They weren’t ready for a preacher man. Not until Eugenia made the decision to come to him willing. She had to agree to let him court her before they could ever marry.

“Sometimes things are complicated, Gus. I know she wants me. I’m certain she will come to love me.”

But he wasn’t quite as certain as before. There was still this deep, burning passion that seemed to cloak and envelop them, but this was his last attempt. If this didn’t work, he was done.

Gus shook his head. “What makes you so certain?”

“Because when we kissed—”

“You kissed Eugenia Burnett?”

Wyatt smiled. “It’s usually what you do with a woman you’re attracted to. You start off kissing, and then later, much later, it builds to something more.”

Those kisses were what sustained him. If those kisses weren’t real, then nothing he’d ever believed about love was true.

Gus started laughing. “Wow, I never thought she’d let you kiss her.”

“You know, Gus, how when Beatrice used to bake those apple-cinnamon pies you loved, you’d go in the kitchen and you’d smell the aroma of the pie, and you couldn’t wait to taste it just as soon as it came out of the oven? You’d savor the thought of that pie all day.”

Eugenia would either be the best apple pie he’d ever experienced, or Wyatt would find himself eating crow. One of the two.

“So Eugenia smells like apple pie.”

“No. But it’s the anticipation. It’s the chase, the thrill of the hunt. The knowing that when she gives in, it could be the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“And what if she doesn’t give in?”

“Then you’re stuck with me telling you stories of Beatrice’s apple pies and how wonderful they were.”

Gus picked up the spoon and filled his plate with the casserole. He took a bite, and Wyatt watched him lick his lips and take a second bite. “Damn, this is good. Forget Eugenia and marry Myrtle.”

Wyatt took a bite of the casserole. “That woman can cook.”

“We don’t even know what Eugenia’s cooking tastes like. She could be a terrible cook.”

“Her cooking skills don’t matter.” Hopefully tomorrow at church, Myrtle and he together would motivate Eugenia, make her see that she was denying them a chance. If not, it was time to move on.

#

Sunday morning after the church service, Eugenia glanced around the congregation looking for Myrtle. She had to know if she’d delivered the casserole to Wyatt. As she looked toward the doorway of the church, she saw them.

For a moment her stomach plummeted, and her heart started galloping faster than a wild stallion as she watched Wyatt hand over an empty casserole dish to Myrtle. She smiled up at him, and he seemed to thank her for the dish. She turned her back to Eugenia and took Wyatt by the arm, and then the two of them strolled from the church.

Eugenia sank down on the nearest bench. Her chest squeezed painfully tight, and tears pricked her eyelids.

What was wrong with her? This was exactly what she wanted. She didn’t want Wyatt in her life. She didn’t need him. She’d said so over and over.

Yet there she was wanting to blubber on like a heartsick calf, crying out in distress because she’d matched up Myrtle and Wyatt.

“Mom, you okay?” Travis asked. “Rose is ready to go. I think we’re going to go to the café for lunch.”

For a moment, she sat there as the realization came to her that she’d been enjoying Wyatt’s flirtation. She’d been enjoying his attention. She’d miss his kisses.

“Huh?” Eugenia said as she stared up at her son. He looked so much like his father that she often thought it was Thomas she was staring at.

“Lunch. We’re going to go to the café. Are you all right?”

She glanced at the entryway of the church, happy to see that Wyatt and Myrtle had moved out the door. There was no reason for her to be upset. They’d only done what she set in motion. She’d given up Wyatt Jones to another woman because of her own stupid pride.

“Mom!” Travis said again, this time more urgently.

She waved her hand at him. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re not acting like yourself, or maybe you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means can we please go so that I can take Rose and the baby to the café,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I can’t go to that café,” she said adamantly.

“Then you’re going to have to wait outside, because I’m taking my wife and daughter out to lunch,” Travis said, staring at her as if she were going senile.

Eugenia grimaced. It wasn’t often that he took them to lunch at the café, but she was so afraid she’d find Wyatt there with Myrtle.

“All right, let’s go. But if Wyatt…”

Travis held up his hand. “Unlike my mother, I refuse to play matchmaker, so I don’t want to hear your Wyatt stories.”

A few minutes later, Travis led them into the café with Rose following him, the baby in her arms, and Eugenia behind the two of them. She glanced around the café, hoping not to see Wyatt and Myrtle, but there they were like a man and wife sitting together at a table.

“Mom, come on. They’re seating us.”

She held her head high, her back ramrod stiff as she walked through the restaurant until she heard her name.

“Eugenia.”

Dear God, Myrtle was calling out to her? Myrtle, who probably thought she’d snagged the hottest man in town. She turned toward her and played like she’d just seen them.

“Myrtle, I missed you at church this morning. And Wyatt. Look at you and Myrtle.”

“Eugenia,” he responded, his eyes barely meeting her gaze.

“How was the casserole?” she asked directly at Wyatt.

“Delicious,” he said, his honey-brown eyes staring at her and sending daggers into her bruised heart.

What had she done?

“Good. I always knew Myrtle was a great cook. Well, I best be going. The family is waiting for me. See you at rehearsals on Tuesday.”

“See you then,” he said.

“I’ll talk to you later, Myrtle,” Eugenia said and walked away from the table, her stomach clenching tighter than any cinch she’d ever used on a horse. If she made it to the table without throwing up, it would be a miracle.