Jodi Thomas (3 page)

Holly looked down at her breasts. “They’ve never been anything but in the way.”

Zach suddenly understood why she bound them so tightly. “Oh, no.” The firelight shadowed her shirt just enough to show the perfection of what she complained about. “How could you even think such a thing?”

“I’ll think whatever I like!” she snapped, then couldn’t hide a smile. “And I think I’d like to be kissed again.”

“One more lesson?” he asked. “And I pray one of us will have enough sense to stop.”

Closing her eyes, Holly waited for the next kiss. She’d never dreamed she’d like such a small touch so much. Most of the men she saw had brown teeth from chewing tobacco, and the thought of touching mouths with them had never been appealing. But this man was different. He was spotlessly clean and gentle when he held her. He’d also be gone tomorrow, and no one would ever know she’d learned a few lessons in life from him.

But his lips didn’t touch hers. Instead, his arm encircled her and slid below her hips. In one sweep he lifted her in his embrace. Startled, she opened her eyes and started to complain, then saw the laughter in his gaze and knew this was part of the lesson.

He carried her to the chair by the fireplace and lowered himself with her atop him. “This isn’t proper, but I can’t leave without teaching you one more thing. Are you afraid?”

Holly could never remember being asked such a foolish question. She’d never been afraid of anything in her life. She was the best shot in the county and could outwrestle most men, including this Yankee. What could she possibly have to be afraid of? “Get on with the lesson.”

This time he didn’t lower his mouth to hers, but started at her neck and moved slowly upward. His soft lips felt wonderful as they moved over her skin, and she curled into his embrace. His fingers tenderly shoved her hair back allowing him to taste more of the flesh along her neck, She loved the way his hand twisted into her hair, applying just enough pull to move her head to his liking.

Carefully, he unbuttoned the first button of her shirt and slid the cotton from her shoulder so that he could taste more of her. She arched with pleasure, making the shirt slide dangerously low.

As though he could endure no more heaven, he leaned back and watched her curl contentedly in his lap. His hand touched her hair and drifted lightly down her cheek.

No one had ever stared at her with such eyes. In his gaze, she saw herself as a woman and for once she felt beautiful.

Leaning upward she opened her mouth slightly, silently asking for another kiss.

His lips played with her mouth for a few minutes driving her mad with wanting. While his kiss danced lightly against her, his hand moved to her waist. He knotted the shirt in his fist, pulling the material tightly over her chest. Slowly, as the kiss deepened, his fingers slid over the cotton of her shirt and lightly brushed her breasts. When she jerked as a bolt of pure pleasure shot through her body, his kiss turned loving and his hand lowered over the soft mound with passion’s firmness.

His open mouth swallowed her surprise as the kiss deepened to match his touch. He knew he was holding someone whose loving was as wild and untamed as the land she came from.

Holly felt as if she were falling into deep water, far over her head. She’d always been in control. She’d always been the one to make all the decisions in her world. She’d always been the one to act, not react. And now this stranger with his polite manners and loving lessons was changing all that. And she wasn’t sure she liked it.

Pushing away from Zach, Holly climbed from the chair and his embrace. For a moment he looked as if he might pull her back, but he hesitated. Fire danced in his blue-gray eyes. His long fingers opened and closed into fists, as though he were trying to capture a dream. His longing to hold her was raw and warm in his gaze. A longing so deep, it must have taken more than one lifetime to cavern.

Turning away, she stared at the fire, for she couldn’t stand seeing someone as lonely as herself. She’d thought she was the only one in the world who ached for another so dearly. But she couldn’t turn to this man. Not this man who’d been willing to marry just anyone. She wanted a man who would have no other woman but her.

Zach stood and paced the room. “If you’re waiting for me to say I’m sorry, you’ll wait ’til hell freezes over.”

“I don’t want your apology. Neither of us seems very good at that sort of thing anyway. I asked you for the lesson.” She could still feel her body tingling from his hand touching her. How could she tell him she loved his touch but was afraid of losing control?

He grabbed his coat. “I thought you wanted me to hold you.”

She could hear the hurt in his voice. He hadn’t tried to trick her. He’d been honest with her from the first, but she’d never hated a man more. He must know the power he had over her with his touch. A power she’d never allowed any other to capture.

“I want you gone tomorrow!” she said, and was answered by the slamming of the door.

Without trying to stop the tears traveling down her cheeks, Holly climbed the ladder to her bed. He had to be gone come morning, because if she ever stopped hating this man long enough, she might fall in love with him, and she’d never allow that.

She’d never love a man who’d marry any woman. She had to love a man who wanted to marry only her.

5

Zach walked out to the corral and back until his blood cooled to normal. He’d never met such a woman. He never knew a female like Holly existed. His mother had been soft and quiet and kind. He couldn’t remember once in his childhood when she’d yelled at him. His former fiancé was cut from the same bolt. She hadn’t even had the strength to wait for him to return from war, but married someone else who could take care of her. Other women he’d danced a few reels of love’s melody with were so gentle, he’d been afraid of upsetting them if he allowed passion to surface.

He’d heard about the Southern belles who could do nothing for themselves but weep for their men. Now he wondered how the South could have lost if the men were half as strong as the women. When he’d looked at Holly standing in front of the fire dressed only in her huge shirt, he’d thought he’d finally met a woman who could meet a man’s passion with equal measure of her own.

But she’d shoved him away as though she’d only been using him to test her limits. The thought that she planned to use what he taught her to catch another angered him. Maybe he should be madder at himself than Holly for caring what happened to her. Any man foolish enough to marry such a bossy, demanding woman would surely be dancing with the devil’s daughter, as Sam had suggested.

When Zach stepped back into the house, Holly lay curled on a bench by the fire. For a moment all he could do was stare at her, for he’d thought she’d have locked herself away in the loft by now.

She raised to one elbow, her hair tumbling around her in a fiery golden mass. “It’s gotten too cold to sleep in the loft,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ve divided the room. You’ll not be counting your fingers and toes come morning if you stay on your side.” She patted the gun belt lapped over the corner of the bench.

Zach looked at a rope strung across the room and tied to a chair at each corner. He took off his coat, trying to control his anger. His control had kept him alive more than once, but he couldn’t take any more of being pinned in, not even if the jailer were as beautiful as Holly.

“No!” he said suddenly, as he walked to the rope and jerked it so violently both chairs tumbled. “Never again!”

Holly was too surprised to react. She hadn’t thought the man capable of such an outburst. He marched to the fireplace and planted his hands on either side of the hearth as he breathed deeply, pulling raw nerves under control.

After a long pause, he said more to himself than her, “When I was in the prisoner-of-war camp at Andersonville, the guards put up a line ten feet from the wall. It was a stick pole a child could jump. Everyone called it the kill line. If a prisoner crossed it, he was shot before he could reach the wall. Every morning I would walk around the camp and count the bodies hanging over the kill line. After a while, I realized they were more suicides than attempts to escape. Being a fighting soldier was far easier than wasting away in the camp.”

Holly didn’t know what to say. She’d heard the prisoners were treated badly on both sides. Somehow when she thought of the men going to war, she never thought of prisoners, only the soldiers and the dead.

Zach turned to face her. “You’re safe where you are without a gun. I’ve never touched a woman who didn’t welcome me, and no line need be between us.”

He walked over and collapsed on the bed. All the fight gone from him.

Holly watched him lying there. He was a strange man, this Yankee. He didn’t seem to care about the future, but he’d been willing to risk death rather than sleep with a rope between them. She’d only known him a few hours, yet she felt like she knew him better than she’d ever known anyone. Closing her eyes, Holly tried to forget about all that had happened tonight and think of only tomorrow and the Christmas Eve party. Tomorrow he’d be gone, and her life would return to normal.

She thought she’d just closed her eyes, when she smelled coffee. Sunshine danced in through the windows. Peering around the bench, Holly saw Zach in the kitchen.

He seemed to sense she was watching him, for he turned and smiled. “Get dressed, sleepyhead. I’m cooking you breakfast before we leave.”

Holly stood and walked to the kitchen, unaware of how becoming she looked in her wrinkled shirt and wool socks. “I can cook breakfast,” she offered as she stretched away her sleepiness.

Zach forced himself to concentrate on the stove. “No thanks. I had your eggs yesterday. Today, you try mine. Besides, tomorrow is both Christmas and your birthday. Consider it my farewell gift to you.”

He forked her a mouthful of the most delicious eggs she’d ever tasted.

“Now get dressed,” he ordered.

Holly moved to the wardrobe. “I never thought you’d be able to cook.”

“I can’t, really,” he answered, carrying the food from the kitchen to the table. “Breakfast is about the beginning and end of my menu.”

Holly reached for the cotton binding she wrapped around herself every morning.

“Don’t bind yourself,” he whispered from behind her.

“But everyone will know I’m a woman.”

“Everyone knows it already, except the blind.” He didn’t move, but he felt himself reaching out for her. “This is the last day we’ll be together. Allow yourself to be a woman today.”

“All right.” She answered reluctantly, then picked up a change of clothes and went into the kitchen to dress.

“They have lacy things ladies wear that I think would be more comfortable than the binding.” Zach was way out of his realm of expertise, but it seemed no one had told Holly about women’s things. “I suppose you can buy them at any ladies’ dress shop.”

She had just finished tying her belt, when the door flew open with a bang. Sam and Luther stormed in as if prepared to see blood on the walls and a Yankee dead on the floor.

“Mornin’, Captain.” Sam looked at Zach, trying to see any bruises or stab wounds.

“Morning,” Zach answered raising his mug. “While you men pour yourselves a cup of coffee, I’ve something to say to you. First, I think as a common courtesy, you should knock before you enter a lady’s home.”

“Knock?” Sam mumbled.

“Lady?” Luther echoed.

“And second, I don’t want either of you getting any ideas about finding Holly a husband. She’s got a mind of her own, and I’m sure she can rope her own man when the time is right for her.”

The two old men looked at one another. They didn’t know whether to challenge this bossy stranger to a fight, or congratulate him for having survived the night in the same house as Holly.

Yesterday he’d been kind of quiet. When he passed out at the train station, they thought him the sickly type. But now, it was starting to sound like the Yankee was as demanding as Holly. A few good meals and a day without liquor had made major changes in Captain Hamilton.

Sam winked at Luther. Damned if he wouldn’t give his uppers to know what went on in this house last night. It couldn’t have been fighting. There was no blood. And it couldn’t have been romance, ’cause the stranger was talking like he was leaving.

Holly sat down and filled her plate. “Sam, tell one of the men to saddle Cinnamon and another good mount. I’ll ride with Zach into town, then bring the mount back.”

“But there ain’t no train.”

“I know.” Holly didn’t look up from her plate. “But he can stay in one of the rooms above the saloon.”

“But it’s a long ride,” Sam added.

“I can make it in half the time you men did in the wagon. I’ll be back by mid-afternoon. Have the men clear out the house and set up extra tables in the kitchen for the food.”

“But one of the men can go with Captain Hamilton,” Sam rationalized.

“No.” Holly glanced at Zach. “I’ve some shopping to do for a few things the cook can’t pick up for me.”

Sam was out of “buts.” He wanted to beg Holly to keep her Christmas present just one more day before she sent Zach back; but, as usual, she had made up her mind, and there was nothing short of a buffalo stampede that would change it.

Within an hour, Sam watched them disappear toward town. He’d warned Holly to take the main road, but he knew she’d take the shortcut like always. He set about hammering out tin holders for the Christmas tree candles with all the energy he could muster. It would be a sad Christmas with no present for Holly, but maybe he could make the party something to remember. Several of their neighbors said they were bringing sons and loved ones home from the war. For the first time in five years, there’d be a Christmas without war on everyone’s mind.

Laughter boiled from Sam in sudden gulps. “Who knows?” he whispered to himself. “Maybe this year Holly will dance.”

6

Zach leaned against the peeling wallpaper of his room above the saloon and watched the street below. For five years in the army, he’d thought of someday going home for Christmas. But now there was no home to go to, and he’d be spending Christmas Eve alone in his room. He tried to block out the sound of the drunks below in the bar, acting as if they were happy.

Several Union officers strolled the boardwalk across the street. The bartender had told him that a company of soldiers was camped outside town. The day after Christmas, they’d be heading northwest toward the frontier line to fight Indians. Zach almost wished he were going with them. The army was a lonely life, but it was all he’d known for so long, the familiar would somehow be comforting. His leave would be up soon, and he’d have to decide whether to reenlist or retire.

A knock pounded on his door.

“Come in,” he answered, knowing the bottle he’d ordered was finally being delivered.

Maybe he could drink the memory of Holly from his mind. They’d ridden into town without talking of anything important. When he’d offered to buy her lunch, she’d refused, saying the clouds looked like bad weather might be moving in and she’d best get back home. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe she didn’t want to stand on a street visiting with a man in Union blue. He realized by the stares that if he stayed in the South another day, he’d be wise to buy himself a change of clothes.

Zach raked his fingers through his dark hair and moved toward the door as the knock sounded again. He wished he’d had the chance to kiss her good-bye. It had been tempting to pull her to him in the middle of the street and kiss her one last time just to prove to himself that she tasted as good as he remembered. But she hadn’t wanted him. She’d made it crystal clear. Besides, she’d probably have shot him for embarrassing her in public with that old Patterson Colt she kept tied to her leg.

As Zach pulled the door open with swear words ready for the slow bartender, Holly fell into his arms.

“Zach!” She tried to catch her breath. “You have to help me.”

He lifted her and carried her into the room. Her hair was wild with no hat in sight. Mud was smeared across her white shirt and cheeks. Her coat was ripped at the sleeve. For a moment he thought she must have been attacked, but her gun was still strapped and holstered at her side.

“What is it, Holly?” Worry lined his face. Only moments before, all he’d thought of was how lonely he’d be on Christmas day. Now all he cared about was that she was unharmed. Holly might be headstrong and stubborn like Sam said she was, but there was a vulnerability about her that touched his heart. She’d given him a great gift without knowing it. The few hours he’d spent with her made him realize that he was still alive.

Huge tears bubbled in her evergreen eyes. “I took the back trail out of town. I thought it’d be faster.”

Zach held her trembling shoulders tightly. “What happened?”

“It’s Cinnamon. We fell.” A single tear tumbled down her cheek.

Zach moved his hands slowly along her body. “Are you hurt?”

“No!” Holly pushed his hands away and stood. “You have to help Cinnamon. I remember you saying you were a vet, so I came here first. I rode the other horse and left Cinnamon.”

Zach grabbed his hat and saddlebags, and was a step behind her as they ran down the stairs into the bar. Everyone in the room stopped to watch, but there was no time to explain.

When they reached the street, Zach tossed Holly onto the horse he’d ridden into town only an hour before, and climbed behind her. There was no need for words. Zach knew if he didn’t get to the injured horse, the roan would be Christmas dinner for the wolves.

He held Holly tightly against him as they rode. She molded so easily into his arms, as though a dream finally found a place in reality. Wrapping his hands tightly around her, he whispered, “It’s going to be all right,” and wished he believed his own words.

She turned her head slightly, rubbing against his chin. Holly wasn’t the kind of woman to admit being frightened or feeling helpless, but her action told him she needed him if only for now. He kissed the side of her forehead lightly, closing his eyes as he tried to memorize the smell of her hair.

They climbed the bluff at full gallop where Cinnamon had fallen, but Zach didn’t try to pull in the reins. Concern outweighed their safety.

Holly’s horse stood at the bottom of the uneven ground. Though still saddled, the animal raised her head in wild challenge. Pain had erased years of gentling from the beautiful roan’s gaze.

Zach jumped from the saddle and walked slowly toward the horse. He hadn’t practiced his profession since the war started, but he knew animals. And this one was as wild with fright as her owner.

“Easy, now.” Zach moved closer. “I’m going to make it better.” He brushed the horse’s mane and felt blood oozing from a small cut on her neck. His hands continued moving along the mare while he kept talking, trying to calm her. Her front right leg was cut with an ugly gash, but no bones seemed to be broken.

He glanced at the strong woman everyone thought could spit fire. She was curled atop a rock, looking like a child afraid to watch.

“I tried, but she won’t put any weight on her leg,” Holly whispered. “Will we have to shoot her?”

Zach pulled a shirt from his saddlebag and wrapped it around Cinnamon’s leg. “How far are we from the ranch?”

“An hour’s ride,” Holly answered.

“How long if we walk?”

“Two, maybe three hours.”

“Then we walk it.” Zach pulled Holly to her feet. “If we can get there before she loses too much blood and before infection sets in, she might have a chance.”

Cinnamon protested as he pulled her forward. “But you’ll have to talk to her, Holly. She’s your horse. She’ll do things for you that she won’t for me. She’ll walk despite the pain.”

Holly nodded and fell in step next to Cinnamon. She talked to the mare while Zach watched the bandage he’d made turn red and the sky darken.

They hadn’t moved far before it started to snow. Light, huge flakes. A Christmas snow, his mother would have called it.

When Holly looked at him as if it were hopeless, Zach fought the urge to kiss her. “A little snow will make the ground softer.” He couldn’t help but smile. Here, walking in the snow with a lame horse and a beautiful woman, was a hundred times better than anywhere else he’d ever been on Christmas Eve.

He wanted to put Holly on the other mount and tell her to ride home where it was warm, but he wasn’t sure Cinnamon would follow him. They moved slowly across the open plains, step by step.

It was almost dark when they saw the light of the ranch. The snow had stopped, leaving the air clear and newborn. Lanterns sparkled against the blanket of white. Folks were already arriving for the party, for Zach could hear voices and music.

Only Sam ran out to greet them when they drew near. “I was worried half crazy about you,” he scolded Holly. “If you hadn’t been acting like you’d already eaten locoweed before you left, I would have saddled up and come looking for you.”

The old man glanced at Zach without surprise. “Welcome back, Captain.”

Zach touched the brim of his hat. “Evening,” he said, as if it were nothing unusual for him to drop by. “Cinnamon’s been hurt. I’m going to need boiling water, lots of wraps, a sewing needle, and a few bottles of whiskey.”

Sam looked down at the horse’s bloody leg. “There ain’t nothing to be done,” he forced out the words slowly. “I’ve seen horses cut up like that before. We’ll have to shoot her. I’m real sorry, Holly.”

“No!” Holly pulled the mare into the barn.

“But, Holly.” Sam rubbed his wrinkled face with an equally wrinkled hand. “You don’t want her to be in more pain. It ain’t fair to the horse to let her suffer.”

Zach didn’t answer as he helped Holly pull the animal into a stall. Zach had been through more suffering than he thought he could have endured, yet he wouldn’t give up one day of it, if it meant he had to give up the rest of his life. He figured Cinnamon might feel the same. Holly had taught him there was something worth living for.

“No!” Holly answered Sam. “We’re going to let Zach try.”

Sam shook his head and turned to Zach for orders. There was no arguing with her, so he might as well save his breath. “Do what you can, Captain, and I’ll help.”

“I’ll want a cot set up beside the stall and as many lanterns as you can find lining the top. We’ll blindfold the horse, so the light won’t bother her eyes. Find some oats and mix them thick with whiskey. We’ve got to give her enough to take the edge off the pain, but not so much that she lies down on us.”

Sam ran to issue Zach’s orders. Holly brushed the mane of her horse, then slowly turned to Zach. “What can I do?”

“You can see to your guests. I’ll call you if there is any change. I’ve got to get her calmed down and trusting me now, or she’ll never let me do what I need to do.”

Holly locked her arms around Zach’s neck. “Thank you for helping. No matter what happens, I’m glad you’re here.”

“You’re welcome.” Zach wanted to pull her close and make her believe everything would be fine, but several men loaded down with supplies entered the barn. “Enjoy the party. You’ve done a great deal by getting her back here. We’ll know little before morning.”

“Promise you’ll come get me if there’s any change?” Holly shoved the tears from her cheeks.

“I promise.” Zach brushed a strand of her hair off her face. He’d give all he owned if she cared half as much about him as she did the horse.

Suddenly she was gone, and Zach was surrounded by cowhands, each offering advice. Finally, Sam silenced them by telling them that Zach had gone all the way through Boston’s vet school, so they might quit their “jawing” and learn a few things.

As he worked, his thoughts kept drifting back to how beautiful Holly had looked the night before. He wasn’t sure he could spend another night on this ranch without touching her again. That’s why he’d had the cot delivered to the barn. He had to put as much distance between them as he could or risk making a fool of himself.

Her mind was on him also as she went through the ritual of welcoming the other ranchers. She’d much rather have been in the barn helping, but this one night a year, she was expected to host the Christmas Eve party.

The snow didn’t seem to discourage a single guest, and by nine o’clock the room was filled with her neighbors. Several of the families had brought their children and planned on bedding them down in the bunkhouse, until all the grown-ups had had their fill of talking and dancing.

To Holly’s surprise, many of her friends brought with them young men for her to meet. They were welcomed as war heroes in a war where neither side had won. Most of the men were still wearing all, or parts, of their uniforms. Throwing away good clothing was not something a farmer or rancher did even if the war was over.

Two of the five Travis boys came home, and from what Holly could tell, they were as crude as they had been before they left. She never forgot how they’d teased her as a child, and how cruel they’d been because she didn’t act like the other girls. Now both men had a woman on each arm, as though they were the most valued choice for a husband in the county.

Other single women were in new dresses to match the holiday season, but Holly’s only change had been to wear one of the camisoles she’d bought at the dress shop in town. She could hardly show that to anyone, so she looked the same as she did the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. But the silk next to her skin made her smile to herself and feel pretty.

As before, no one asked Holly to dance. They probably heard she didn’t do such things. As the night aged, the men drank more and the Travis boys began to tell stories of the war. The women formed small groups to chat. Once more Holly found herself apart, so she occupied her time with refilling cups and adding logs to the fire.

When Zach opened the door just after midnight, she jumped with concern for Cinnamon. His gaze scanned the room before coming to rest on her. She couldn’t help reacting to his smile with one of her own.

He seemed unsure as he removed his hat and took only one step into the room. Everyone stopped talking at once and stared at the uniform he wore. Hatred chilled the air. Both Travis boys stood as though preparing for one last battle.

“I’m sorry to disturb the party,” Zach said politely. “But I’m the vet Miss McCarter asked to treat her horse. I’d like to have a few words with her.” He was thankful Sam and Luther hadn’t told anyone of Holly’s surprise Christmas present; maybe Holly’s neighbors would believe his lie.

“Do your talking outside,” Bret, the elder Travis, ordered. “We want none of the likes of you in here.”

Several others mumbled oaths beneath their breaths.

Zach tipped his hat as if the bitter order had been only a suggestion, and stepped backward.

“Wait!” Holly hurried to the doorway. “Tell me about Cinnamon before you go.”

Zach’s gaze studied the room, looking for simmering trouble to boil over. “The bleeding has stopped.” His words were low, yet all the room seemed to be listening. “And it looks like my stitches will hold. By morning we’ll know if there’s infection.”

Holly’s hand lightly brushed his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Can’t you stay a moment and have some punch or a dance?”

Everyone in the room stood silently waiting for him to leave. He knew he was playing with fire staying any longer, but he couldn’t turn down her request. “I’d be delighted to dance with you, Miss McCarter.”

As he slowly removed his hat and coat, the musicians began to play a waltz. When he turned back to Holly, she was smiling even though everyone else in the room seemed to be frowning.

He lifted her gently into his embrace and danced across the floor. It didn’t matter that everyone in the room was watching with either surprise or hatred for the Yankee. All that mattered was that she was in his arms once more. His need to hold her overruled his sense of danger.

Slowly, other couples took to the floor, as though unwilling to allow Zach and Holly center stage. When the room crowded with dancers, Zach knew it was time to get back to his work at the barn. If he didn’t hold himself in very close check, he would hold her a little too tightly, and in this crowd that could only mean trouble.