The Holt ranch house wasn’t all that different from Abigale’s grandparents’ home, aside from the extra rooms on the second floor. She fully expected to share a bed with Emmy, but Mrs. Holt led her to the end of the hall, where a squeaky door opened into a stuffy room.
At the window, Mrs. Holt moved the curtains aside and raised the sash. “Just for a few minutes, to let the old air out and the new in.”
She turned with a warm smile. “Haven’t had a guest in such a long time, that I forget to air this room out. I hope you don’t mind. The bed clothes are clean, though I should probably take the pillows and quilts outside for a good beating.”
“I’m sure they’re fine, Mrs.—I mean Ida. Thank you all the same.”
Seth’s mother swept both hands across a star quilt folded at the foot of the bed. “Let me know if you need help settling in. I’ll send Emmy up with fresh water after a while, but I warn you, she will talk your ears off. Scoot her out when you’ve had enough.”
Abigale chuckled, remembering nervous newcomers at Wolfe Hall with the same propensity. “Thank you, but she’s no bother at all. You’ve been most generous.”
The simple bed with low headboard and turned posts was similar to what Abigale had slept in at the school, though big enough for two people.
At the sudden wash of heat in her cheeks, she set her satchel on a sewing rocker, her back to Ida Holt without appearing rude, then took off Pop’s hat and the heavy scarf.
“It can be warm up here, which is certainly a benefit in the winter.” Ida dropped the window sash but pushed the curtains farther open. “I’ve always favored this view of the ranch.”
Abigale moved to Ida’s shoulder, agreeing with her observation. The barn and outbuildings stood in good repair at right angles to the house, creating a large yard. A fringe of pine and spruce hemmed the northern edge, and no doubt helped block the wind.
Ida rested a hand on her arm, voice quiet and welcoming. “I’m truly glad you came, Abigale. No one should be alone at Christmas.”
Abigale blinked several times and forced a smile, unwilling to shed tears at the woman’s gracious hospitality. It was the familiarity that stung the sharpest, for there was nothing strange about Ida Holt. Abigale had spent many a day here as a young girl, wondering if her mother might have looked and acted like Seth’s—hair in a neat bun, face quick to smile and laugh or frown and scold. But she’d had no picture of her parents, only a child’s memory thinned over the years by the two loving faces of Mams and Pop.
“Thank you,” she managed.
With a light pat of her hand, Ida went to the washstand for the pitcher. “I’ll send Emmy with clean towels as well. But remember what I told you. She’s a chatterbox.”
When the door closed behind her hostess, Abigale slumped to the bed, exhausted. She’d been so busy since arriving home, she’d not given serious thought to Christmas, other than to acknowledge that she missed her grandfather fiercely. Secretly, she was glad Seth had persisted. She’d have people around her during the holiday, a temporary family at best. But even though it wasn’t hers, it was as close as any could be.
She fell back across the bed, both grief and gratitude heavy on her heart. Her eyes closed with confidence that Seth would see to Chester. A few quick winks were all she needed. Just a moment of rest, and she’d be good as new.
Within minutes, a squeaking hinge raised her.
“Did I wake you?” Dark brown braids dangled below a youthful face hoping indeed that Abigale was completely awake.
“I’m glad you did, Emmy. I can’t be sleeping the day away with so much to do.”
The girl read Abigale’s comment as invitation and entered with the full pitcher. A few drops of water spotted her skirt and the floral carpet as she crossed the room.
“Mama said you might be sleeping.” She set the pitcher in its matching bowl and transferred two towels from her arm to the rod on the washstand, then joined Abigale on the bed with a sigh.
“This is such a fancy room. Much prettier than mine. Mama said when I’m older I can maybe move into this one.” She gave a little bounce on the mattress, then looked up quickly.
“That is, if you’re not still here.”
Abigale held in a full laugh and drew Emmy’s braids over her shoulders. “You have nothing to worry about. I shall be long gone by then.” She paused and drummed the fingers of one hand against her chin. “How old are you now? Fifteen?”
“Pfftt—I wish! I’m only ten. And it will be forever before I’ve grown enough for this room.”
“No, it won’t, little one. Time flies much faster than you realize when you’re young, so enjoy every minute of it. Why, when I was your age, your brother and I were traipsing all over this country, riding and exploring, and getting into arguments. It seems like only yesterday.”
She clamped her lips tight, fearing she had shared too much information with the innocent child.
Emmy gave another little bounce. “I know all about that. Seth told me how you could ride and rope and even shoot almost as good as him.”
“Almost?” How easily Abigale was drawn into a competitive mood, so typical of Seth Holt and his teasing.
“Wanna know a secret?” Emmy looked up from the corner of her eye, legs swinging up and bouncing back against the mattress and bed frame.
“Is it a very important secret, one you should not share?” Abigale had no desire to hear Holt family matters that were none of her business. She had enough concerns of her own.
Emmy waved Abigale’s question away. “No. It’s just about Seth.”
Oh. Well then. Curiosity lifted its head, ravenous and reckless. “In that case,”—she crossed her heart and leaned in closer—“I promise not to tell.”
Emmy giggled and cupped her hand around her mouth as if someone else might overhear. “He’s sweet on you.”
Abigale gulped at the revelation and was powerless to stop the flush rising in her neck and into her jawline. She fussed with her hair, hoping her hands would hide the worst of it. “How do you know? Did he tell you?”
The idea that Seth Holt confided in a sister less than half his age was not one Abigale relished.
“He doesn’t have to tell me.” Emmy jumped off the bed and assumed a very dignified air. “I just know these things.”
Abigale covered her mouth, refusing to let laughter wound the little girl. After a moment’s struggle for composure, she stood. “I see.”
“That’s it exactly,” Emmy said on her way out the door. “All you have to do is look at him. You can see it all over his face.”
Perhaps Abigale hadn’t been looking at Seth with the right eyes.
She went to the window and discovered she’d rested longer than a few minutes. Dusk had settled over the ranch, hemmed in with a gentle snowfall. Seth and his father led animals into the barn, then shuttered windows and closed the big double doors.
Her stomach fluttered and her heartbeat kicked up just watching Seth. He moved about with purpose, a controlled grace in his long strides, and something about it appealed to her. He appealed to her.
Again she touched her lips, remembering how close he’d been—as if he meant to kiss her. Had he? He’d made no similar move since he’d returned with the chickens, but how could he when he’d been busy chasing off mountain lions, rescuing Chester, and moving all her stock and stores to his family’s ranch?
Emmy may not have seen that embrace—thank heavens—but she insisted she knew her brother’s feelings.
Abigale feared for her own emotions, for she wore them on her sleeve like a roadmap, according to Mams and Pop.
How was she going to spend Christmas in the Holt family home without letting them all know about her growing affection for Seth?
~
Pa was right again.
After supper, Seth tromped through nearly a foot of snow, double-checking the livestock. He and Pa had gotten everything settled just in time. Seemed to be a common theme lately.
He’d shown up at Millertons’ not long after Abigale had fallen. Thwarted a lion’s attack on Chester. And gotten Abigale and her animals here before this storm hit. From the looks of it, they might be socked in for days.
Maybe it was all a sign that he had just enough time to ask Abigale to marry him. If what he’d learned in the last two days held true, it was that simple. Ask her.
And he’d scare himself up a bear or two while he was at it, wrestle ’em down, and make her a rug from the hides. He screwed his hat down tighter, raised the collar of his coat, and went hunting the axe.
After stacking a wall of wood on the back porch, he stretched a rope to the barn, another one to the outhouse, and a third to the woodpile. At the back door, he stomped snow from his boots before entering, pulled them off inside, and hooked his hat and coat by the door.
His family sat by the hearth, Abigale with them, Chester at her feet. The old dog was lying on his belly and looking around as if unsure of where he was. Abigale leaned over and stroked his back, whispering against his ear. The dog’s tail thumped in response.
“Did you see that?” She looked up as Seth drew another chair next to her. “Did you see his tail?”
“I did.” He rubbed behind the dog’s ears, careful of telltale buckshot sores. It could have been so much worse.
Abigale’s eyes fluttered like she had a spec in one, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Thank you for saving him, Seth.” The shine of her gaze said a mountain more, but he’d not go there with his folks in hearing distance.
“How’d you save him, Seth?”
Leave it to Emmy to drag every last detail out into the open.
Ma dug through her mending basket. “Yes, we’d enjoy hearing that story as well, if you don’t mind, Abigale. Forgive us if we’re being nosy.” She offered her friendliest smile for Abigale’s benefit, but Seth recognized the tone that said, “Cough it up, and cough it up right now.”
Abigale’s face went a shade lighter, and he figured she was hesitant about mentioning what she saw in the woods.
“It’s all right.” He lowered his voice. “They already know about your trees. Pa’s paint, remember?”
“Oh, yes. All right.” She pushed at her hair, a clear sign she was nervous.
“I rode up to the waterfall yesterday, and Chester went with me. While we were there, we heard a tree fall and tracked the sound to where someone was limbing it, getting ready to drag it out.”
Pa’s gaze flicked to Seth and back. “Did you see who it was?”
Seth signaled Abigale to go ahead.
“It was Mrs. Blackwell.”
His ma looked thunderstruck. “Charlotte?”
“Yes, ma’am. She had three men with her. Hired hands, I suppose. One might have been her son, but I couldn’t be sure.”
Pa rubbed the side of his jaw. “How do you know it was her?”
Abigale bucked a little, rising to the challenge. Seth couldn’t help but admire her pluck when it wasn’t directed at him.
“I’d know that voice anywhere.”
Ma let out a disgusted huff. “You and me both, Abigale.”
“But what about Chester? What happened to him?” Emmy stuck on an idea like a tick on a hound.
“He followed me.” Abigale leaned over and stroked his side as if he were the most precious thing in her life. “But it was late by the time we headed back. He’s old and tired, and when it started snowing, it must have been too much for him to keep up with me. I didn’t know he’d fallen behind until Seth met us on the trail.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and every head in the room turned in Seth’s direction except hers.
There was no way out but straight ahead. “When I got to Millertons’ with the cow, Abigale was gone, so I went looking for her.” He left out the part about being mad as a hornet. “I fetched Pop’s shotgun off the wall before I rode out.”
“Thank God.” Abigale’s whisper skimmed the air, but Emmy caught it.
“Did you shoot something?” His sister’s eyes were big as saucers.
“I shot at something. Scared it off.”
“A mountain lion.”
Abigale’s comment sucked the air from the room.
Emmy got up from where she’d been playing with her dolls and hugged him. “That makes you a hero, Seth.”
Then she gave Abigale an exaggerated wink. “Told ya so.”
Abigale turned bright pink and buried her face in Chester’s neck.
“Time for bed, little lady. Come on.” Ma ushered Emmy and her dolls upstairs.
Pa added a couple of logs to the fire, then turned his back to the flames, hands stretched out behind him. “Good to have you with us, Abigale. I’m glad you’re safe and sound.”
“It’s good to be here, Mr. Holt.”
“Ben. Just Ben. Like Ida said, we’re family.”
Pride flickered behind his eyes and he gave Seth a quick nod. “Glad you found them in time, son.” Then he took to the stairs.
Seth could have sliced the tension with a crosscut saw. It hadn’t been like this at the Millerton place when it was only him and Abigale. He missed the ease of their company, there in the big log house alone, where he could take her in his arms and ask her to marry him without anybody other than Chester listening in.
Course he hadn’t even come close to doing such a thing, but he’d thought about it enough.
Yeah, he missed those few special days.
He hoped he hadn’t missed his opportunity as well.