The Gift-Wrapped Groom (21 page)

Last night he had taken her as his wife. But he knew he would have to earn the right to remain her husband. Doc Mallory's words came back to him, clear and compelling.

“A real man takes care of his woman, especially during the hard times.”

She was his woman. He would prove this. He would get the job at the engineering lab and work hard to earn what was necessary to support her through these hard times. He would fulfill all her needs. He would show her she could trust him, that she could believe in his love.

Until then, he would make her no empty promises the way this Cade Patterson had. He would wait until he could be a husband who took care of all of his wife's needs before offering her his heart, the heart she already so fully possessed.

She stirred against him again, stretched, rolled over onto her back to reveal the bouncy satin globes of her breasts, the pink nipples rising in their centers, the hot triangle of red-gold hair beckoning between her thighs.

His eyes devoured her body greedily and then moved to her face. She was looking at him sleepily, seductively, through silver-green slits. She stretched her arms over her head, arched her back slightly and smiled as the blanket rose to a small mountain between his legs.

Her eyes flashed up to his face, full of mischief and the mysterious knowledge and power that was woman.

“So, that's where my side of the blankets keep going. Have you forgotten that you promised I would get at least half of the blankets on our bed?”

His burning hands reached for her, drawing her on top of him, the blood hammering through his arms, his legs, his heart. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, her nipples hard and hot. Her satin thighs wrapped their delicious heat around him.

He would tell her soon of all she did to him and all he would do to her. But first there was this small matter of the blankets to settle.

“Hmm. I might still be able to find a big, smelly yak for you to brush.”

She laughed as he brought her mouth to his, and her laughter erupted into his throat, deep and hearty. He drank it in, not able to get enough of the sound of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. And then, as he had all through the night, he made love to her with his hands and his words and she moaned and sighed and hummed with life beneath him as the earth moaned and sighed and hummed with life beneath the warm rays of the hot sun.

* * *

“M
ISTLETOE SURE LOOKS
feisty this morning.”

Noel watched fondly as her little dog jumped up and down in his excitement at Lucy's appearance at her store. Truth be told, she felt a bit like jumping up and down this morning, too.

“He had a bad scare last night, Lucy. I think he's celebrating being alive today.” Noel's smile faded as she looked at her friend. “Which is more than I can say about you. What's wrong?”

Lucy trudged over to a chair and plopped down on it, looking gray and haggard, nothing like her normal self.

“Sorry, but I didn't get a chance to make that dream hoop for you, after all. It's been a long night.”

Noel got up from her workbench, came to Lucy's side, more than alarmed at the sadness in her friend's face and voice.

“Forget the dream hoop, Lucy. I slept better last night than I've ever slept. Now, tell me, what's wrong. You don't look like you've slept at all.”

Lucy rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “It's our cows, Noel. They're dropping their calves early, just like the Duncans' and the Pattersons' stock. I've been up all night hand-nursing a premature little bull calf. He finally died in my arms an hour ago.”

Noel rested a hand on Lucy's shoulder, a shaft of sorrow knifing through her. “I'm so sorry. What can I do?”

“Hell, nothing nobody can do. Doc came by to take a look. Took a sample of the water. Sent it off. We all just gotta go on as best we can. But if we lose the rest...”

Noel's hand gripped Lucy's shoulder. “Maybe the lab will get back to him soon. Maybe it's something that can be corrected. Maybe—”

Noel was interrupted by her “Jingle Bells” doorbell as Berna Vane came busting through, shaking new-fallen snow off her silver fox coat.

“There you are, Lucy. Kurt said he thought he saw your pickup heading this way.”

Lucy's dark head rose wearily. “What do you want, Berna? I'm not much in the mood for socializing.”

“Well, I thought you might just like to know that I'm calling a meeting for tonight. I've been in touch with CMC headquarters this morning. Our executive vice president wants to meet with everyone in Midwater right away.”

“Why?”

“That'll all be explained at the meeting tonight at the community center. I tried calling your folks' house, but nobody's answering the phone.”

“They're a mite preoccupied at the moment, Berna.”

“Yes, I heard. Dreadful news. Well, I'll rely on you to tell them, Lucy. By the way, you may not know that the Ungers' cows have come down with the same problem as the rest of yours. Doc Mallory just got a call on his CB and headed over there. Whatever this is, it sure is catchy.”

Berna had dropped her voice into an appropriate regretful tone, but Noel saw the gleam in the woman's eyes and the smirk on her lips. She was actually enjoying being a witness to the hardships the ranching families were going through. Anger rose in Noel's chest. The idea that Berna might profit from them turned Noel's stomach. Her tone carried her disapproval.

“The Christmas committee's status meeting is in the community center, Berna. You'll have to gather the rest of your corporate-vulture family to pick over the ranchers' bones elsewhere.”

Berna flashed light, irritated eyes at her. “No, Noel, I will not. CMC's meeting will be at six, a full hour before the Christmas festival meeting at seven,
if
there still is one at seven.”

“What do you mean,
if?
”

Berna's smile came on slow and deadly. She did not answer Noel's question. She turned on the toes of her white leather boots and yanked “Jingle Bells” into play as she marched from the shop. Noel could still see that smile, hanging in the air like the carved grinning skull on an old tombstone.

* * *

“L
ADIES AND GENTLEMEN
of Midwater, my name is Milton Younger, the executive vice president of the Consolidated Mining Consortium. I am here this evening because we at CMC have heard of your plight.”

The small trim man with the large head paused to adjust the gold-rimmed eyeglasses sitting upon his perfectly straight nose, before leaning his forearms on the podium and looking out at nearly every adult resident of Midwater who now filled the community center.

They sat silently before this slick, official-looking CMC representative in the dark, three-piece suit. Attentive. Waiting.

Nicholas knew they were anxious—not eager—to hear what this man would say. He reached for Noel's hand beside him and covered it with his, knowing she was anxious, too.

“People think of us big companies as being all computer and profit-driven. But the truth is that we are a company made up of people just like you, working hard, doing our best to get ahead. We know what it's like to do all the right things and still have it all go sour because of some bad luck. Like you folks here are experiencing right now.”

He paused again and leaned a little farther over the podium, projecting himself forward as though he weren't so far removed from them and their plight.

“And because we understand what you're going through, we've decided to do something we've never done before. Ladies and gentlemen of Midwater, sitting behind that table over there with ready contracts is our local representative Berna Vane, one of your own. We at CMC are prepared to offer any one of you who comes forward tonight to sell your land to us at a twenty percent increase in the previously offered price.”

An instant murmur began through the center, some excited, some definitely biting on the edge with anger. Milton Younger raised his hands for quiet.

“Wait, wait. I'm not finished. CMC is fully prepared to add the twenty percent increase to the price of those who have already sold their land to us. We don't intend for anyone to get the short end of the stick. No, folks, we fully intend for all of us to come out winners.”

He leaned fully on the podium now, beaming at them all benevolently.

The murmur that had hushed for a moment erupted anew into a low roar. It went on for a few minutes as wives and husbands conferred with each other and the neighbors who sat around them. Nicholas could feel Noel's hand turning stiff and icy beneath his. He could feel the rigidness taking over her body.

“But I have to repeat, folks,” Milton Younger said again, still beaming, “this twenty percent offer is only good through tonight. You must act now.”

Several members of the audience started to get up to approach the table where Berna waited with contracts laid out.

Noel jumped to her feet. “Wait!”

Heads turned in her direction. People stopped in the aisle leading to Berna's table. The room hushed.

“Please don't let yourselves be pressured into a decision tonight. We still don't know what is wrong with the stock. This is our valley, our home. There's much more than money at stake. There's the whole way of life that we know here in Midwater. We can't just—”

Kurt Haag rose from behind Noel and put his big paws on her shoulders, physically pushing her back into her seat. “Everybody's heard enough out of—”

Nicholas anger flashed fast and furious as he saw this man dare to put hands on his wife. He yanked Haag's paws away from Noel's shoulders and lifted Haag into the air by his collar, flinging him onto the floor. The big man landed with a crash, knocking over metal chairs quickly vacated by their recent occupants, who were now scurrying to get out of the way.

Haag shook his head, stunned, then looked up at Nicholas, his face growing red with anger. He scrambled to his feet and lunged at Nicholas, fists swinging. Nicholas easily dodged the fist and landed one of his own in the generous girth around the man's middle. He followed up with another fist hard against Haag's chin and the man crumpled into an unconscious lump at Nicholas's feet.

Nicholas reached down and picked up the hefty Haag, slung him over his shoulder and carried him out of the community center. He dumped the man's body onto the cold ground just as he might a sackful of garbage. Nicholas stared at the silent heap, his hands clenched at his sides, almost wishing that Haag would come to so he could hit him again. It was a moment or two before he heard the scuffling coming from behind him.

He whirled to see that at least half the community center's occupants had followed him out and were now standing and watching him, looking anything but displeased.

And in their center, wearing a lovely look of wonder, was Noel.

* * *

“O
OOOH
! This tastes potent. And hot as it goes down.”

Nicholas smiled at her pinched-up pink nose over the glass. “That is the pepper, Noel. Vodka does not have a taste. The pepper gives it a warmth to savor.”

She sat Indian-style before him on top of the rug in front of the brightly burning fireplace and tried another sip. “Hmm. Yes. Hot right down to my toes.”

He leaned over the small table he had prepared with vodka and black caviar in front of the fire and kissed the end of that scrunched-up nose. The electricity was working fine, and there had really been no need to light a fire tonight, but Nicholas had made one, anyway.

He wanted to make this night special for her, especially after the CMC announcement and the subsequently short Christmas committee meeting. Berna Vane had signed up two more ranching families, and the Duncans had taken home a contract to think over.

Nicholas had seen the sadness in Noel's face. He wanted to take that sadness away. He wanted to recapture the magic they had shared less than twenty-four hours ago, when they had first made love in front of this fireplace.

The dancing Christmas tree lights lit her lovely hair from behind as the flames from the fire played across her face. On the radio, a soothing voice sang about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. She put down her glass of vodka, dipped a cracker into the caviar and took a tentative bite. He watched as a surprised look of pleasure crossed her face.

“This is good! Particularly right after the vodka.”

He hid the pleasure he received by her admission with a growl. “You think millions of Russians could be wrong?”

She laughed, that tinkling laugh like the colliding of ice crystals in the frosty air, light and magical.

Mistletoe romped over to them, tiring of his chase game with the train that circled the Christmas tree. His little black nose sniffed at the caviar sitting on the small table between them, his tail wagging hopefully.

Noel speared a small amount onto a napkin and set it in front of her pet. Mistletoe took a sniff at close range, sent out a tentative tongue and quickly backed off from the rest, clearly disappointed.

Noel smiled and gave his head a pat. “Mighty Dog looking better, hey, cutie?”

Nicholas nodded approvingly. “Good. It would be easier to teach him to swim beneath the ice than to keep him in caviar.”

Noel took another sip of her drink, watching Nicholas over her glass. “How can you run naked in snow and swim beneath ice?”

“It is as I once explained about the tickling. It begins in the mind. Many times I have needed to wash where there was no hot water. Or stay warm when there was no fire. These times I have pictured my blood moving faster through my veins and arteries, generating the needed warmth. I could teach this to you also.”

She smiled. “You already have my blood heating my body far too efficiently.”

She blushed slightly and looked around the room before her eyes returned to his. “This is very nice. The fire. The vodka. The caviar. It reminds me of when my dad would drag my mom away from her Christmas cooking and insist they sit in front of the fireplace, watching the Christmas tree lights, drinking homemade cider and feasting on strawberries dipped in chocolate.”