Montana Rose Read online

  Rose giggled, causing Jesse to give her a closer look.

  “You’re hiding something, Miss Bush.”

  “Hiding? Why, Mr. Rivers what on earth would I hide?” Innocence blinked from her eyes.

  Enjoying her teasing, he shortened the distance between them. There was a plate of cookies directly behind her. Ignoring the fact it wasn’t just the cookies tempting him, he playfully reached both arms around her, capturing her, holding her hostage. He swayed closer. He could smell her, a bewitching mingling of scents, sugar, spices, and lilacs. A scent uniquely Rose.

  His hands searched behind her back as he leaned in, fumbling for the elusive cookie plate. Suddenly, both of them realized how close he was. How his mouth was only a few inches from hers. How easy it would be to forget all about the cookies and wrap those strong arms around the sometimes irritating, yet uniquely, bewitching woman with the flushed face, the curly, wispy hair, and the very kissable lips.

  Jesse bent his head. Rose raised hers. And in the purest of seconds, their lips met, each welcoming the other’s as they banished all reasons not to drink of the sweet nectar offered.

  She felt so right in his arms. He cupped her face with his large hands and looked deep into her eyes as all sense of time stopped. A door slamming upstairs broke the spell. He uttered a silent curse and forced himself to step back, and turning on his heel, left the room, all thoughts of cookies forgotten. He’d just sampled a confection sweeter than anything a mere mortal could bake.

  Chapter 28

  With trembling fingers, Rose touched her lips. She closed her eyes as a pleasant shiver ran through her. What had just happened? Jesse Rivers had kissed her, and she’d let it happen. Not just let it happen, but welcomed it.

  Rose, what have you done? You foolish woman. First you lose your ranch, then you lose your teaching job, and now you’ll lose this position. Despair replaced the exhilaration from being in Jesse’s arms. And the kiss. How will you ever get through the next days, not to mention tonight?

  Well, there’s no escape for it, I’ll have to leave.

  Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

  The decision brought with it a dark cloak that covered her body and seeped into her soul. In the short time she’d been at the Rocking R, she’d come to love it.

  I’ll leave right after Christmas. I’ll have to take advantage of Ben and Wisteria’s hospitality. She blinked hard, not allowing the threatening tears to fall. Maybe it’s time to give up. Give up the dream of my own ranch. And Rose knew once she did, she’d give up a large part of herself. A part that would never resurface.

  “Rose?” Jesse stood in the doorway.

  She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see the trace of tears still in her eyes.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice weak. “Do you need something, Mr. Rivers?”

  Jesse gave a snort of disgust. “My name is Jesse, Rose. After what just happened, I think we can stop with the Mr. Rivers, don’t you?”

  Rose gave a deep sigh. “Very well, Jesse.” Her tongue faltered over his name.

  Jesse thought he’d never heard his name sound so sweet. He straightened his spine and, reminding himself he was his father’s son, blurted out what he’d quickly rehearsed in his mind. The words came out gruffer than he intended.

  “I owe you an apology. I guess the trip to town, buying presents, seeing and smelling the baking, Christmas, I . . . I lost my head. I made a mistake. It was an impulsive action.” He swallowed hard before choking out the next words. “Nothing more.” What a lie. It was something more. It was everything, yet it was nothing, nothing he could have. Still, he’d treasure the memory. That, he would have.

  “Why, yes, of course,” Rose stammered, filled with hurt at his words. “Impulsive. A mistake. Like you said, nothing more.”

  He touched her shoulder, then, feeling Rose stiffen, jerked his hand back. “Tory and I forgot the tree. We need to go back out and cut one. Uh, would, would you like to come with us?” Longing filled his voice.

  Rose wanted to say ‘yes.’ Wanted it with all her soul. “No,” she forced out. “I’m too busy. Way too busy.” She stepped back from him. “I’ve got supper to get, and I planned . . .” Her voice faded.

  “What? What did you plan, Rose?”

  “Nothing of importance.” She skirted past him, escape dominating her thoughts. “You might want to put some logs in the front room fireplace. I finished it last night.”

  Then she was gone, leaving emptiness behind her.

  In that moment, Jesse knew what Rose had planned. She had planned on surprising them with the fire in the newly cleaned and furnished room. Well, he’d ruined that.

  “Tory,” he bellowed, “meet me in the barn, we’ve got one more task before supper.” He slammed the door behind him.

  From her bedroom window, Rose watched the wagon pull out of the ranch yard. Jesse had made his feelings clear. The kiss was nothing more than a mistake, an impulsive action. Now it was up to her to deal with the consequences of that impulse. He’d apologized. She’d accepted.

  “I’ll do the same. I’ll act as though nothing happened,” she said aloud. “I’m the housekeeper, and that’s what I’ll be until I move on.”

  Rose tilted her chin and a look of fierce determination filled her eyes. “But I won’t stay longer than absolutely necessary. I will make a Christmas Tory will remember. I’ll be polite, but reserved, knowing my place. I can do that. I’ve done harder things. Meanwhile, I’ll look for another means of supporting myself. I’ll ask Ben and Wisteria to watch for anything, anything at all I can do. Oh, what a fix I’ve gotten myself into. Now I’m even talking to myself.” With those final words, she walked over to the highboy dresser and peered into the mirror held by two curved wooden arms. Her eyes were clear. No sign of tears.

  Pleased that decisions had been made, she left the room, banishing all thoughts of the rugged, yet gentle, man who had stolen her heart.

  On entering the kitchen, Rose saw the cookies that had tempted Jesse and caught her breath. She skirted the plate as if it were a rattler coiled to strike. Jesse and Tory wouldn’t be long. And after supper, they’d decorate the tree. No, she’d retire to her room, and Jesse and Tory would decorate the tree.

  With that thought firmly in her mind, she spent the next hour cooking. And if her eyes strayed to the window, hoping to catch sight of a tree-laden wagon, it was only because she didn’t want to dish up the meal too soon.

  Rose stepped over to the sink and began washing the few dishes in the dishpan. With her hands immersed in the warm, soapy water, her thoughts wandered. The next thing she knew, Tory was shouting outside the front door.

  “Miss Bush. Open the door. We need help.”

  Flinging open the door, Rose found herself met by the tip of an evergreen tree and a grinning boy. Holding up the other end was the man she’d vowed not to think about.

  “We got a little carried away,” Jesse said, his eyes shining. “Tory just had to have a big one.”

  “Ha,” Tory denied. “You’re the one that said we had to have just the right one. You picked this tree. I said it was too big.”

  “Funny, I don’t remember that.”

  The camaraderie between the two brought a smile to Rose’s face.

  “Unless you plan on standing there all night arguing, bring it in and we’ll see if it will fit in the living room.” She threw the door open as wide as it could go.

  The tree was big. The branches bushed out long and perfect, filling the hall. Brisk winter air merged with the heavy scent of fresh pine, a Christmas smell, and one Rose savored.

  Closing the door, she edged past the tree, branches tickling her face, and led the way into the living room.

  “Oh, my gosh.” She stopped them outside the closed pocket doors. “I forgot. We have to hav
e a bucket for the tree.”

  “You take my end, Miss Bush, and I’ll run to the barn and get one.” Not waiting for an answer, Tory thrust his end at her and bolted out the door.

  Jesse looked at Rose and both of them burst out laughing.

  “I’d say he was a bit excited,” Jesse said.

  “I’d say you were right,” Rose answered. “You push and I’ll pull, and we’ll see if this giant will fit.”

  Jesse chuckled. “Sounds like a plan. Once we get it upright, I’ll bring in a few logs, and we’ll have a tree-decorating party in the new room. And”—his eyes twinkled—“maybe you’d share a few of those cookies? They’d go down real easy with a cup of hot coffee. I thought I’d freeze before Tory quit tramping from tree to tree.”

  “Cookies it is. I do have supper ready.”

  “Save it. Let’s fill up on cookies and whatever else you might spare from that bakery in the kitchen. We can have supper anytime, but Christmas baking is only once a year.”

  Rose smiled back at him. All thoughts of not participating in the tree decorating had fled. And, pushed back even further, the thoughts of her leaving.

  Laughter filled the room as each decoration was made over and hung. There wasn’t near enough decoration to have even one hanging from each branch, but as Tory exclaimed over and over, it had to be the prettiest Christmas tree in the entire state of Montana. She and Jesse wholeheartedly agreed as they teased each other that their side of the tree was the prettiest and best decorated. Plate after plate of cookies was eaten until, finally, the meager decorations had all been hung.

  Rose stepped back and happy tears filled her eyes as she glanced around the room. The fire was blazing, sending out waves of warmth and cozy cheer, the furniture beckoned, the waxed floor reflected the glow from the fireplace. It was a beautiful room, filled with people she loved.

  Loved? “No, I don’t, I can’t.” Rose didn’t realize she’d spoken the words until Jesse turned a puzzled face in her direction.

  “What can’t you do, Rose?”

  “What? Oh,” she fumbled, “I, uh, I can’t put off doing the chores any longer. What was I thinking of? It’s time the animals were fed and . . .”

  “Not tonight,” Jesse quickly said. “You and Tory take care of the mess we’ve created and hit the sack. Christmas morning comes early.”

  Really early. He smiled to himself, thinking of what all he had left to do in the barn. He wanted Rose asleep in her room.

  Her room.

  Panic swept through him. Wait. She can’t sleep in her room. It has a perfect view of the barn. She’ll hear and see Mr. Watson for sure. Damn, and he’d been congratulating himself on thinking of everything.

  Jesse moved behind Rose and jerked his head at Tory. Then he pantomimed rubbing and holding his stomach.

  Tory frowned and shook his head.

  Jesse rubbed his stomach again and mouthed, “Sick.”

  Finally, Tory’s face cleared and, like a puppet on a string, he bent over and wrapped his arms around his middle.

  Chapter 29

  “Ooooh, I feel sick. My stomach hurts.” Tory gave a loud groan. “Ooooh,” he groaned again, even louder.

  Jesse made a face and shook his head. Tory was overdoing the groaning and was now doubled so far over he was close to crawling.

  Rose ran to his side. “Jesse, don’t just stand there, help me get him to the sofa.”

  Jesse rushed to Tory’s side and attempted to guide him to the sofa, but Tory was enjoying every minute of being the star of this play and chose to crumble to the floor, leaving Jesse supporting his full body weight.

  “Ooof,” Jesse muttered as he grabbed Tory around the chest. “Dang it, Tory, you can help. It’s only a few feet to the sofa, you can walk that far.” He gave him a hard squeeze that Rose couldn’t see.

  “Can’t,” Tory groaned, hiding a grin, “hurts too bad. You’ll have to carry me, Jesse.”

  “What?”

  “Jesse, do something. Can’t you see he’s in pain? Of course he’ll carry you to the sofa, Tory.” Rose bent over and placed her arm under Tory’s legs. “I’ll help.”

  “Oh, hell,” Jesse muttered. “I’ll get him, Rose. Step back, he’s too heavy for you.”

  “I’ll run upstairs and get a pillow and blanket. I’m sure it’s all those cookies. If he doesn’t improve, you’ll have to go for Ben.” She flew out of the room, her words trailing behind her.

  “Get up, you big faker. If you think I’m lugging you to the sofa, think again. And knock off the groaning.”

  “Well, I’m terribly sick.” Tory moaned again, loud enough Rose heard him upstairs.

  He winked at Jesse and fell on the sofa. “Help me, big brother. Maybe if you patted my forehead it would ease the pain.”

  “I’ll ease the pain,” Jesse said through gritted teeth.

  Rose burst into the room then gently put a pillow behind Tory’s head. “Don’t just stand there, Jesse, take off his boots.” She barked orders, scowling at Jesse to hurry with each task. “Get the dishpan out of the kitchen in case he’s going to be sick.”

  “He’s not going to throw up,” Jesse snapped, giving Tory a hard look.

  “I might,” Tory whispered weakly. “Better get the dishpan, Jesse. Hurry.”

  “Jesse Rivers, whatever is the matter with you? Tory is sick, and you’re just standing there like some unfeeling dolt. Now please, do as I ask. It’s my fault. I let him eat all those cookies.”

  “It’s not your fault, Rose,” Jesse muttered, hurrying from the room after fixing Tory with a narrowed-eye glare.

  Returning, he plunked the pan on the floor close to Tory’s head.

  “Before you go out to do the chores, would you mind getting a pan of cool water and a cloth so I can bathe his face?” Rose asked. “I bet a cool cloth on your forehead would feel good wouldn’t it, Tory?”

  “It sure would. Jesse, you don’t mind, do you? Brother?” Tory said in a faint voice.

  “Of course he doesn’t.”

  “No, of course I don’t. Why, I’ll just trot right in there and get that for you, Lil’ Brother. It’s the least I can do.” He bent close to Tory’s ear and in a hot whisper said, “Live it up. ‘Cause tomorrow you’ll be well and I’ll remember.”

  Tory’s eyes flew open and he gave a fearful look at Jesse’s retreating back.

  “I’ll sit by your side until you feel better, Tory,” Rose said. “You concentrate on getting better for Christmas tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be fine, Miss Rose. But I do feel better with you beside me.”

  When Jesse came in from the cold Montana night, Rose stopped him at the living room door. Finger to her lips, she silently motioned him back into the hall.

  “He finally dozed off. I don’t think we should wake him to go to his own bed, do you?”

  “No. If he’s asleep, waking him might just start it up again.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Guess I’ll bed down here in case he needs anything.” Jesse held his breath.

  “No. Before he went to sleep, Tory asked me to stay with him. I’ll make a bed in that big chair.”

  Jesse could have hugged his brother. Maybe he wouldn’t get even with him tomorrow after all.

  “That doesn’t seem right,” he weakly protested. “But, if you think you should. Tell you what, I’ll get up real early, start the fires, put the coffee on, and see that there won’t be any chores to do the rest of the day. I’ll make it up to you, Rose.”

  His gaze held hers as he combed a hand through his hair. It was all she could do not to smooth it back in place.

  “I’ll make sure the fireplace is banked to last all night. Tomorrow you’ll wake up to the smell of coffee and a special day to look
forward to. This will be a Christmas no one will forget.”

  Rose knew she would never forget. If she had nothing else of this man, she’d have her memories.

  “I’d better—”

  “I’ll just go—”

  Both spoke at once.

  “Go ahead,” Jesse said in a gravelly voice. “You were saying . . .”

  “I’ll just go get some blankets and a pillow.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Of course. This room is heavenly and that chair just begs to be snuggled in.”

  Jesse gave a low chuckle. “Like this room, huh? I agree it’s a big improvement. Before you came, I didn’t realize this house could be anything but a cold, unwelcoming structure. You’ve made it possible. I just wish I . . .”

  He bit off the rest of the words and walked over to the fireplace, struggling with re-gaining control of his emotions.

  Rose stood there, holding her breath, an uncertain look on her face. What was he going to say? And how would she have answered if the words had been what she hoped they’d be?

  Chapter 30

  The wan light of a winter morning crept into the room. Rose stretched and groaned. Blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes and her mind, she drew the blanket tighter around her. What was she doing in a chair in the living room wrapped in a blanket? From the crick in her back, she’d obviously spent the night here. Yawning, she glanced over to the sofa and Tory’s sleeping body. Of course, he’d been sick. It was all coming back to her.

  Still groggy, she searched through the cobwebs of sleep as an insistent thought tried to break through. What was it? What was niggling at her, demanding acknowledgment? She burrowed deeper into the warm blanket. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, she propelled out of the chair. The blanket fell to the floor, unnoticed. Wincing as her foot touched the cold floor, Rose ignored the chill, and a smile took over her face. Today was Christmas. Of course, that was the elusive thought, urging her awake.