Montana Rose Page 13

  “Eggs?”

  “Mrs. Watson. As you are well aware, we are dependent on neighbors for eggs and milk.”

  “You just don’t give up, do you, Miss Bush?” he said, taking a big bite of fried egg.

  “Not when I’m right.”

  Jesse bent over the hearty breakfast and concentrated on chewing, swallowing, and ignoring her.

  Rose, sensing that her plug for the cow and chickens had hit a sore spot, sat down across from him.

  “Mr. Rivers.”

  “Jesse.”

  “What?”

  “Jesse. My name is Jesse.”

  “And if memory serves me, it’s also Mr. Rivers.”

  Jesse rolled his eyes in defeat and, pushing his empty plate aside, started to rise.

  “Please stay seated. There is something I need to discuss with you.”

  “Can’t it wait? I’ve got a full—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “It can’t. It’s about Tory.”

  Jesse sat back down and gave her his full attention as a worried frown crossed his face.

  “What’s the matter with Tory? Is he sick? He was okay last night.”

  “Nothing’s the matter with him.” Hesitantly, she took a deep breath. “It’s about Christmas.”

  “Christmas,” he spat the word out. “Damn it, Miss Bush, you had me thinking something was wrong.”

  “Well, it will be if you don’t get him something to go under the tree you two are going to cut later this afternoon.”

  “Tree?”

  “Mr. Rivers, you’re beginning to sound like an echo. Yes, tree.” Her voice grew softer. “Tonight is Christmas Eve. And, it follows that the next day is Christmas. And we”—she fixed him a hard look—“we will be celebrating with a nice dinner, gifts, and a decorated tree. You do have decorations, don’t you?”

  “How in the hel— Heck would I know?” He uttered the words, then had to drag his eyes away from her pursed lips. Her full, very kissable, pursed lips. Angry at his rebellious thoughts, he snapped out, “I have a ranch to run, and worrying about decorations, or a tree to stick them on, isn’t on my to-do list.”

  “Well, it had better be.” Rose glowered. “Tory deserves a Christmas and you, his loving brother,” she snapped, “are darn well going to provide it for him. I would suggest you take time from ‘running the ranch’ and make a trip into town for a few store-bought decorations, and a present.”

  “Present?”

  “There’s that echo again. Yes, present. We’ll decorate the tree tonight. He’ll open his presents tomorrow, Christmas morning.” Rose rushed on, not giving Jesse time to interrupt. “And, in the afternoon, we’ll go to Wisteria and Ben’s for Christmas dinner. Wisteria sent word we’re expected. Jarrett and his family will be there, too. That is what families do, and by golly, Mr. Rivers, that is what we’ll do. Tory deserves it, and we are going to see he has what he deserves. So, big brother, you’d better get right on those chores. You need to take Tory with you, both for the tree and the trip to town. I’ll be busy all day baking.”

  Jesse couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. The whirlwind had swept through his life again. He stumbled to his feet, grabbed his coat and hat, and firmly shut the door behind him.

  Rose grinned. “That went well.” She bit into a piece of perfectly browned oven toast and washed the bite and the surge of satisfaction down with a swig of coffee.

  The Rocking R would have Christmas, or else.

  Chapter 26

  The house was quiet, and it seemed to Rose as if it were holding its breath, waiting for the spirit of Christmas.

  She hummed as she popped the layers of a chocolate cake on a rack to cool. It was wonderful to have the big house and homey kitchen to herself. And if she gave in to letting her mind play the ‘what if’ game, it would be easy to envision the Rocking R as hers. That was nothing but foolishness. She wasn’t a young woman with time for daydreaming. She’d been dealt her role in life, and it was up to her to make the best of this hand.

  Jesse had grumbled about having to stop his work and go into town. But when Tory asked him why they were going, a tender look came over his face, and his voice cracked with emotion. He told him there were important things needing done and some of them were secret.

  The word ‘secret’ lit a fire in Tory’s inquisitive nature and the questions flowed. Jesse adroitly sidestepped them, and with a saucy wink at Rose, herded Tory out the door.

  Rose was turning the handle of the flour sifter when a jingle of harness reins and a muffled, “Whoa” sent her to the front door, dusting her hands across her apron.

  Mixed emotions raced through her, regret that her alone time was invaded, and delight in having a visitor. Since her move to the Rocking R, she hadn’t seen or talked to anyone but Tory and Jesse. And most of her conversation with Jesse only bordered on talking, more often a verbal battle of wills.

  She opened the door and, shading her eyes from the winter sun, gave a whoop of joy.

  “Wisteria. What on earth?” Rose ran down the steps. “I didn’t expect you. Is something wrong? Why are you here? Of course I’m glad to see you, but . . .”

  “Slow down,” Wisteria giggled, tying the reins around the buggy’s brake handle. “I can only answer one question at a time.”

  Rose grabbed her sister, gave her a hug, and peered into the buggy. “Where’s Robin? Oh, silly question, with Ben.”

  “Nowhere else, although I have to tell you she was mightily torn. She wanted to come see Aunt Rose, but when Ben started out on his rounds, she quickly changed her mind.”

  “I’m not at all surprised. Disappointed but not surprised. Now, get to answering my questions.”

  “I don’t get invited inside?”

  “Not until you answer the main one. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. All is well in the McCabe household. There is no emergency. I simply wanted to see my sister. The sun may be shining, but the little bit of a wind is cool. Can we please go inside? I can’t believe this is winter in Montana and not a drop of snow on the ground, although Ben says that will change any day now.”

  Rose shepherded Wisteria into the warm kitchen. “I was enjoying the peaceful day, and a visit from you is like icing on a cake. Put your coat over there by the range so it will be warm when you leave. We’ll have a cup of coffee and you can fill me in on everything.”

  “Mmmm, something smells good,” Wisteria cried. Then she spied the cooling cakes. “You’re doing your Christmas baking, I’ll bet.”

  Rose laughed. “And you’d be right. Jesse and Tory haven’t had a real Christmas for far too long. This year, if I have anything to say about it, they will.”

  Wisteria bent her head, hiding the knowing twinkle in her eye. “So it’s Jesse now, is it?”

  “What? No, of course not,” Rose stammered, flustered. “It’s Mr. Rivers. Did I say Jesse?”

  “Mmm, hmm.” Wisteria smirked. “You did, and with some feeling, I might add.”

  Rose pulled herself up straight, coffee pot poised over Wisteria’s cup. “The only feeling you might be sensing is for Tory.”

  “I met the two of them on my way here. Jesse said they were headed to town for some Christmas shopping. Ordered there by the housekeeper. The bossy housekeeper.”

  A tic formed at the corner of one of Rose’s eyes. “He said that. Bossy housekeeper?”

  “He did,” Wisteria replied, not needing to ask who the ‘he’ was. She was enjoying this, and was ashamed to admit how delightful it was to see the unflappable Rose squirm.

  Rose’s lips narrowed. “Well, if I wasn’t bossy, Jesse Rivers would ride roughshod over me like I was some . . . some hired hand.”

  “You are a hired hand.” Wisteria laughed. “Oh, Rose, give it up. Admit
it, Jesse has you . . .”

  “Don’t you say it, Wisteria McCabe,” Rose warned. “I am the housekeeper here. Nothing more. And I certainly don’t want it to be anything more.”

  “If you say so.” At a frown from Rose, she sat down and said, “Now, tell me what you’ve got planned for Christmas at the Rivers’ house, and what the two of us are going to bake today. And then I’m going to talk nonstop about Ben, Robin, and Christmas in our new home.”

  The love beaming from Wisteria’s face as she spoke Ben and Robin’s names sent feelings of envy surging through Rose. And for the first time, heavy foreboding filled her. A dark possibility that even when she had her own home, her own ranch, there would be an empty spot, a lonely hollow waiting for something she refused to acknowledge.

  “If we’re going to town, then why are we turning off here?” Tory nodded toward the lane leading to the Watson’s ranch. “I just got eggs and milk yesterday.”

  Jesse couldn’t hide the grin from his face. “Christmas is tomorrow.”

  Tory shrugged. “So?” Christmas had never been a part of his life. He knew today was Christmas Eve, sure, but so what? His mother had given up trying to celebrate in their home after being confronted with his father’s threats and scathing comments. He vowed that no such foolishness would take place on the Rocking R. Not on his ranch, not ever.

  “Miss Bush is determined we’ll have Christmas this year. You and I have been ordered to town to buy gifts and decorations for the tree we’re going to cut on the way home.”

  A look of wonder swept across Tory’s face. “A tree? We’re going to cut a tree?”

  Jesse nodded, unable to hide his foolish grin.

  “Presents?”

  “Yep.”

  Tory sat back in his seat.

  “You don’t like the idea?” Jesse probed, puzzled by Tory’s reaction.

  Tory shrugged. “Can’t remember having Christmas.” He turned to Jesse. “I don’t know what to do, I mean. Darn it, Jesse, it was just another day of work, and if I got any present, it was maybe the hope that I wouldn’t make Dad mad, and he wouldn’t be handing out punishment for once.”

  A haunted sadness flickered in Jesse’s eyes. He felt his chest tighten. “I’m so sorry, Tory. It was the same for me.” He was at a loss for words and remorse filled him at not being there for his brother.

  “Tell you what, we’ll just follow Miss Bush’s lead. I’ve only experienced Christmas once and that was so long ago, I don’t much know what to do either. One of my fellow ranch hands invited me home with him once, and that was the first time I saw how other people celebrated that special day. It can be wonderful, Tory.” Jesse heard the longing in his voice. “Now, what do you think about our saying to hell with all those past, bleak Christmases? Let’s make this one so darned good it’ll make up for ones missed, starting with this stop at the Watson’s.”

  Tory nodded, pleased to share these feelings and promises with his brother. “Sure, why not? Peers to me we have nothing to lose.”

  “You may change your mind about that, little brother, when you see what Christmas present I’ve got in mind for bossy Miss Bush.”

  Chapter 27

  “I can’t believe it. You bought a milk cow, her calf, twenty laying hens, and one meaner-than-hel, uh, heck, rooster. Old Man Watson grabbed that money out of your hands while he strutted around asking if you were a farmer now. I wanted to plow my fist into his son’s face, and I would have, too, if you hadn’t stopped me when he asked if I needed a three-legged milking stool.” Then in a falsetto voice, he mocked, “My sister has one she might sell you.”

  “Any other time, I’d of turned you loose on the little weasel. But we weren’t there to teach the Watsons manners. We wanted what they had, and they wanted our money. So a fair trade was made. And you know the best part?”

  “No,” Tory bit out, still smarting from the teasing.

  “Well”—Jesse chuckled—“you don’t have to go to the Watsons ever again for eggs or milk.”

  Tory’s face split into a wide grin. “Hey, I never thought of that. Yippee!” he yelled. “Thank you, Miss Bush.”

  “Don’t forget,” Jesse admonished, a serious look replacing his grin. “This is a secret. Mr. Watson will deliver the cow, calf, and chickens late tonight. All we have to do is keep Miss Bush out of the barn until Christmas morning.”

  “Huh? That’s all? Now how are we going to do that?”

  “You’re going to get sick.”

  “Sick?” The word exploded from Tory’s mouth.

  “Yep,” Jesse said smugly. “Sick. Sick enough you don’t want her leaving your side. And knowing Miss Bush, she’ll be there doing everything she can to make you well in time for opening presents and dinner at the McCabe’s house.”

  “That’s easy.” Tory laughed.

  “It had better be. Watson said he’d milk the cow before he brings her, but it’ll be up to Rose, uh, Miss Bush, to get it done Christmas morning. I just hope Watson can sneak in after dark, like he promised. I’ll be out there to meet him.”

  “Jesse, it ain’t gonna work.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “Miss Bush goes out to the barn right after she puts your breakfast on the table. Lotsa times she’s out before you finish eating.”

  “You just leave all that to me. But you’d better plan getting up earlier than ever so you can be ‘sick.’”

  “Yeah.” The grin filled Tory’s face and lit up his eyes.

  Later, when Jesse and Tory left the mercantile loaded down with packages, they were laughing and talking nonstop. The fact that there had been few decorations to buy, and most of them were covered with dust, cracked or broken, and outrageously priced, hadn’t dampened their spirits. It had been a rare experience, each one trying to outdo the other in keeping secret prospective gifts. They had conspired on Tory’s gift to Rose, finally settling on a box of handkerchiefs and a stickpin with a purple stone. The clerk called it an amethyst.

  “She’ll love it,” Tory said, taking it once again out of his pocket and rubbing the setting with his thumb.

  “She won’t if you rub off all the shine,” Jesse teased.

  “How come you didn’t want to buy her that box of candy? It was a lot better than that book on raising sheep. Sheep,” he scoffed.

  “Probably,” Jesse mused. “But candy is something a guy buys a girl he likes.”

  “Well, you like Miss Bush,” Tory persisted. “Don’t you?”

  “Sure, just not that way,” Jesse said, but the words felt false rolling off his tongue.

  “Like a girlfriend?”

  “Well, sort of.”

  “Aww, you shoulda bought the candy.” Tory shrugged. “Everyone knows you and Miss Bush are too old to be girlfriend and boyfriend.”

  Jesse gave Tory a quizzical look but saw his brother was serious. Well, hell, guess I do seem old to him. Too old to have Miss Bush for a girlfriend, huh? Wouldn’t be hard to set him right on that account. Then he frowned, wondering where that thought came from.

  They were in high spirits when they pulled up in front of their house. Jesse sat with the reins looped around his hands, taking in the wraparound porch, the curl of smoke rising from the chimney, the sparkling windows. A feeling of homecoming entered him. Was it only a short time ago he’d seen the house as cold and empty, harboring unhappiness? It wasn’t that way at all. In fact, this place was downright welcoming.

  “You go on in with what you can carry. I’ll put up the team and bring the rest.” Jesse needed time to himself, time to analyze the thoughts and feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

  Tory hopped out of the wagon, grabbed up an armful of packages, and with a grin on his face, went up the steps and into the house.

  He was a different boy and Jesse kne
w the reason was a determined, blond-haired woman with sky-blue eyes.

  Jesse deliberately dawdled over the evening chores, finally giving in to the lure coaxing him inside the house. Rose. Even her name made him think of something delicate and beautiful. Delicate and beautiful with an underlying strength that Jesse knew he needed and wanted. She’d blown into his life, and when the time was right, she’d blow out. He couldn’t allow that.

  You can’t stop her from leaving. And I don’t dare risk it being like father, like son. He opened the door, ignoring the niggling feeling he’d forgotten something important.

  The heady redolent smell of things rich and spicy greeted him, wrapping the tantalizing scent around him. It teased his nose and made him pause to take a deep breath. Jesse had to swallow twice as his taste buds responded. Racing up the stairs, he deposited the remaining packages on his bed, then hurried back down, determined to beg a piece, a bite, or a slice of whatever Rose had magically created in the kitchen. Christmas or not, there was a limit to what a man should be expected to endure, especially in his own house.

  With that thought in mind, Jesse marched into the kitchen and stopped short. The counter and table were laden with pies, cakes, cookies, and different-shaped breads.

  “How on earth did you manage all this in the short time we were gone?” Jesse walked closer to the woman standing in front of the table, a proud smile on her face.

  “This?” She swept her hand toward the array of dishes. “Why it was nothing.”

  “Huh?” Jesse missed the twinkle in her eye.

  “Nothing? Lady, there is no way . . .”