A Texas Christmas Reunion Page 17

  Candlelight cast his hair in glimmering light, and it reflected the love in his eyes as a living flame, leaving her speechless.

  “Is it too soon?” His expression fell. “Don’t you feel—?”

  “I do—yes!”

  “You do—as in, you will?” Bounding to his feet, he glanced about as if it was someone else she had just pledged her life to. “You will!”

  “You knew I would before you asked,” she said between the quick kisses he was raining on her mouth and cheeks.

  “I prayed, but I didn’t know.”

  “Me, too, Trea.”

  Upstairs, there was a bed. There was one down here, even closer at hand.

  No words were needed. The knowledge of that intimate piece of furniture lay ripe between them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We could.” He bent his forehead to his betrothed’s, whispering an answer to the question that lay unspoken between them. “No one would know.”

  “No one but us. And we are the only ones who matter.”

  She mattered, she was everything to him and would be for the rest of his life.

  “My bride-to-be...” He pulled away, but only enough to look into her eyes, judge what she was thinking. “I like the sound of it.”

  “So do I, husband-to-be.” She winked at him. “We have a very long time to be married, God willing. I think I would enjoy anticipating the mystery of our marriage bed for a while.”

  “Me, too, honey. Somehow betrothal bed doesn’t hold the same depth of commitment. I want to have you for the first time as my wife. You deserve the respect of that and I, I need to give it to you. You don’t mind?”

  “No woman I ever heard of minds being respected by her man—and you will not actually be my man until the preacher says so.”

  “But don’t think that bed won’t be on my mind every minute from now until then.”

  “Yes, mine, too. And quite apart from my desire to steal away with you right now, Lena will be waking soon to be fed. Since you are going to be a father and a husband, it’s something you’ll need to get used to.” The look she gave him was a little too somber. She must think that was something he had not considered.

  “Do you mean I’ll need to get used to watching you nurse your babies instead of squeezing my eyes shut?”

  “You did that?”

  “Could have broken my toe tripping over something, but yes. And, honey, it was damned hard.”

  She laughed. The sound went straight to his heart, wrapped it up and squeezed.

  Staring and smiling, neither of them spoke with words for a moment.

  “I don’t know about you, Trea, but I won’t get any sleep tonight. Let’s go to my kitchen. I’ve got muffins and I’ll make us some tea.”

  On the way there, they passed by her bedroom door. It was cracked open and he saw the bed, neatly made and calling for its sheets to be tangled and the blankets tossed on the floor.

  She intercepted his stare. “We are going to need a very short engagement.” She caught his hand and drew him into her cozy dining room.

  With a sweep of her finger, she indicated that he should sit down at the table in front of the window. With a quick dip she leaned down and kissed him, then, with a swish of red-and-green plaid, went to the stove.

  A few minutes later she placed a cup on the table in front of him. The scent of black tea swirled about the room.

  “Christmas Eve, we’ll be married then,” he announced.

  “Thank goodness. I couldn’t wait a day longer than that.”

  She set the tea on the table then came to his chair and bumped him sideways with her hip so that they shared the seat.

  Side by side they gazed out at the night. It was pretty with the light of a full moon reflecting off snow, every bit as magical as the Christmas trees were.

  Adding to the peace was the fact that there was no noise from the saloon. Hadn’t been since the piano was moved. He could tell The Fickle Dog was still open for business because someone had just staggered past the window. Hopefully the fellow didn’t pass out in the snow. He’d freeze to death if he did.

  Trea tried to pay attention to the man, but he and Juliette could not quit kissing each other.

  “I love you,” he said again for the—he didn’t recall how many times—but it was only the beginning of a lifetime of making that declaration.

  Another kiss was called for, so he gave it, deeper and less playful than the last several. He felt laughter bubble under his lips.

  “Someone is going to see us,” she advised with a grin that indicated she didn’t care if they did.

  “At this hour, I can’t think of who that would be, but I’m going to talk to Preacher Gordon first thing after sunrise.”

  With the next kiss his hands got tangled in her thick, black hair. It slid between his fingers, gloriously lush.

  From down the hallway he heard a baby cry. Lena, judging by the high-pitched squeal.

  He broke the kiss, let his hands fall away and found that he was grinning like a loon.

  “Welcome to nearly married life, Trea.”

  “Let me get her.”

  Standing, he gave a start. Someone stood outside the window, staring in with his nose smashed on the glass.

  It was his father, his arm supporting the drunk man.

  Their gazes caught and held for an instant. The old man nodded; Trea nodded back.

  Walking down the hallway to get the baby, he wondered about that. An expression had crossed his father’s eyes that he’d never seen before.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought the look bordered on tenderness. But it was dark outside and hard to read anything clearly. No doubt his father was only showing the strain of holding up his customer.

  * * *

  In spite of the fact that her heart was living among the clouds, Juliette’s feet were planted firmly in Beaumont Spur.

  She stood in front of her dining room window, sipping coffee and watching the town wake up. The breakfast crowd at the café was larger than usual, so she bundled everyone up and took them across the street.

  It felt good to put on her apron again, to take orders and serve her customers.

  “Good morning, Levi,” she said. What she really wanted to do was hug him.

  She missed seeing him and the rest of her regular patrons each morning.

  It was hard to think about how much she would miss the ones determined to move away.

  “You’ve got a sparkle about you this morning, Juliette. Your smile looks all full of Christmas cheer.”

  “The big day is almost here. Can’t you just feel it in the air?”

  “I can when I look at you.”

  “What can I get for you?”

  “The usual, and some of your holiday cheer. With the move coming—well, I could use a bit of it.”

  “You could stay in Beaumont Spur.”

  “Things around here are beginning to look up, I’ll admit, but still—I just don’t know. Those fires say that no good is afoot.”

  “Folks build bigger fires when they burn leaves in the fall, and don’t forget, Mrs. Fulsom’s son is due in on the train today. He’s a doctor. Did you know The Suzie Gal will become his office?”

  “It’s all the talk, and as fine as that is, there’s still two saloons in town and old Culverson keeps advertising in Smith’s Ridge. Strangers keep on coming and going. One doctor isn’t going to change that.”

  “The hotel—”

  She lost track of the thought when Trea walked in the front door. This was the first time she had seen him since the wee hours of the morning when they had each gone to their own rooms.

  As much as she wanted to dash madly around the tables and into his embrace, they had not yet announced their engagement.

  “Good mor
ning, Mr. Culverson,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

  “Just some toast and coffee to take with me to the schoolhouse, Mrs. Lindor.” His smile indicated that he wanted a bit more than mere food from her. Did anyone else notice? she wondered. “And a moment of your time?”

  He indicated with a nod of his head that he wanted to speak with her outside.

  “Of course. Just let me get your breakfast first.”

  Within moments, she stood beside him on the boardwalk, casually handing over his toast and coffee. Folks looking out the window would see her positioned a respectable distance from the schoolmaster, but in her mind she leaned into his embrace.

  “Here,” he said, digging in his coat pocket. “I just came from the telegraph office. These are for you.”

  He handed her four pieces of paper.

  “Reservations,” he explained in the face of her bewilderment. “For the hotel. Sure do hope you are ready, Beautiful. Your first guests will be here tomorrow.”

  “They will? Why? I never—”

  “I put an advertisement in the Smith’s Ridge Herald. Figured if my father could attract customers that way, so could you. I also invited them to our party.” He lowered his voice even though no one was close enough to hear. “Hope you don’t mind, but I reckon they’ll be attending our wedding, too. I visited the preacher this morning. He says this will be his first Christmas wedding and he’s looking forward to it.”

  “I’d give you a giant hug, but it would cause a great scandal.”

  “In a few days it won’t. But I reckon we need to keep this to ourselves. For some teachers it wouldn’t matter—but for me? I reckon it would, and honestly—I almost don’t care.” He must not, because he lifted his hand toward her braid.

  “Helloooo!” Nannie’s voice carried from half a block away. Trea snatched back his hand, took a big step backward.

  “Good morning, Trea,” she said, filling the space that was, by rights, Juliette’s.

  For all that Nannie noticed her, Juliette might have been turning pancakes in the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Miss Breene,” Trea answered.

  “Pish. We’ve discussed that. It’s Nannie and you well know it.”

  “Good morning, Nannie,” Juliette said, because it had been a good morning a moment ago.

  “Oh, Juliette! I’ve come to see you, actually.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  Nannie withdrew a newspaper from the basket she carried over her arm. “I just feel horrible about neglecting your advertisement. I convinced Papa to run a special Christmas edition to rectify it. Your grand opening takes up half the second page.”

  Juliette turned past the front page, which was filled with the announcement of Dr. Fulsom’s setting up business in town.

  In reality, her advertisement of the hotel took up only a quarter page. Still, it was nicely done and Juliette said so.

  “I am rather proud of it,” Nannie answered, addressing Trea. “I’ve discovered that I have a talent for this sort of thing. Father is giving me more responsibility every day. I don’t mind being gainfully employed one little bit.” She inched a step closer to Trea, if that were possible, and blinked up at him. “At least until I’m a married woman.”

  “Thank you, Nannie. This is lovely,” Juliette briskly put in. “Mr. Culverson was just on his way to the schoolhouse. Wouldn’t you like to come in for some breakfast?”

  “Oh, I would. And I’ll pass this along to everyone at no charge. Papa said that, in the spirit of the holiday, I could.” She lowered her voice to a murmur. “Good day, Trea. Perhaps I’ll see you later.”

  “And perhaps,” her fiancé murmured after Nannie went inside, “I should just kiss you right now. Let that woman know where I stand once and for all.”

  “A part of me would like that, but it wouldn’t be right.”

  “Do you reckon I ought to have a private conversation with her before the wedding?”

  “No, I do not. She can find out when everyone else does.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “Maybe, but, how many more hours until Christmas Eve?”

  “Too many. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

  Spinning about to go back inside, her gaze crossed over the front window of the dining room.

  Nannie’s nose for gossip must have been in fine fettle because she was staring hard through the glass—well, glaring, actually.

  It was difficult to hide anything from Nannie.

  * * *

  Guests were booked and arriving tomorrow!

  Juliette felt like a bee flitting from task to task. There was a basketful of final details to be seen to.

  Scrubbing floors, cleaning windows, putting fresh linens on the beds, shaking out the rugs and, perhaps most important of all, preparing food for the party.

  Juliette had planned on doing most of the work by herself. Of course, that was before she knew that Christmas Eve would also be her wedding day. Thank goodness Rose had volunteered to cook and Cora agreed to tend the babies and Warren on that day, even without knowing about her wedding.

  Even given all that she needed to do, she could not help but take a moment to gaze—dream, more rightly—upon the wedding gown hanging on a hook on the wall of her bedroom.

  She hadn’t known when she purchased the green satin gown, when she’d sewn the festive berries on it, that it would be for her wedding day.

  The first time she married she had worn an elegant white gown that she had spent months picking out.

  This one was also elegant, just in a less frothy way. Smiling, she straightened a red berry she’d sewn to the waistline.

  A Christmas-colored wedding gown—nothing could be more wonderful. The only white she’d wear this time would be the new petticoat and the pretty, lacy chemise she had purchased this morning.

  When Trea unwrapped her, so to speak, he would untie the pink satin ribbon on the bodice. Feel soft lace under his fingertips when he drew it down over...

  She would continue this lovely fantasy before she went to sleep tonight. With so much to do, she could hardly stand here indulging in intimate dreams of her future with Trea.

  Hurrying into the kitchen, she snatched up a bucket of cleaning supplies then rushed back to the lobby.

  From upstairs she heard Mrs. Cromby singing “Jingle Bells” while she prepared the guest rooms.

  Apparently Juliette would not be cleaning the outside of the windows today. Sunshine beating on the roof melted the snow, which slid off the eaves like raindrops. There was really no point in attempting to keep the windows sparkling.

  She turned her attention to polishing the reception desk. It already gleamed, but a layer of wax gave it a mirrorlike sheen. From a shelf under the desk she lifted out the guest register and placed it on top.

  This was really happening. Only a short time ago she had purchased a building with a dirty reputation, overrun by bugs and vermin. Today it was a jewel. One that had enough refinement and charm to revive her town, if folks gave it the chance.

  It would not hurt having Dr. Fulsom setting up business across the street, either. If he was as gifted as his mother claimed him to be, folks might move here purely for reassurance of having a healer nearby.

  That did still leave two saloons to attract criminals and drunks, but—the bell over the lobby door tinkled. Juliette looked up with the smile that sang in her heart.

  Oh—well, clearly Nannie Breene did not have a smile in her heart.

  “We need to discuss something, Juliette,” she said, charging toward the desk without greeting.

  It was true that they did. More than poor Nannie knew.

  “Would you like to do it over tea?”

  “I would not.”

  “Coffee, pastries?”

  For a second Nannie seemed
to consider the idea.

  “I rather think not. My stomach is all in knots because of you.”

  “Maybe we ought to sit down and you can tell me why.”

  Was it silly to pretend she did not know? It was, but this was a conversation she did not want to have and she was stalling.

  “I can’t sit, either. Feels like I’ve got fleas jumping in my veins.”

  “That can’t be healthy, Nannie. You should try and calm down.”

  “I will, once I’ve had my say.”

  Juliette heard a rustle of skirts on the stairs. Nannie did not appear to notice, being caught up in turmoil as she was.

  “What is it, then? I have a lot to get done.”

  “Oh, you always do and that is part of your problem. You are so caught up with babies and cleaning and business, you neglect yourself.”

  “I like being caught up in those things.”

  “Well, you oughtn’t. The neglect of your appearance shows.” Nannie slammed her hands on her, admittedly slim, waist. She narrowed her close-set eyes in accusation. “Just look at your hair!”

  “My hair? It’s clean.” It was hard to take the accusation to heart. Not when she remembered the feel of Trea’s hands undoing her braid and caressing the strands. Something a man would not be able to do to Nannie’s hair, being as looped and tightly curled as it was.

  “I’ll give you that, but the style is dowdy. That braid makes you look like you are just off the farm.”

  “That’s a disrespectful thing to say about the women who work hard to provide what we eat.”

  Nannie blinked rapidly. “Oh, I didn’t mean that about them. Living out in the middle of nowhere, no one cares what they look like. But we live in town and ought to dress the part.”

  “I’m not going to change my hairstyle to make you happy, Nannie Breene. Do not hold your breath for it.” Although she might do her hair up in a few curls for the wedding. Yes, and place a white silk flower sporting slender satin ribbons to suggest a veil.

  “Juliette! Your attention is wandering. I don’t think you are listening to what I’m saying.”

  “I’m doing my best not to. But, honestly, why would you come here to malign my hair?”