Wild West Christmas. Lynna Banning
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Название: Wild West Christmas
Автор: Lynna Banning
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
isbn: 9781472044303
isbn:
He snapped out of his woolgathering. Alice Truett had a bright future and could likely do far better than his mangy hide. Why hadn’t she?
Stop it, he admonished. She was here to do a friend a favor because she was a fine Christian woman. Not because she wanted him. His mind flicked back to that kiss. Maybe she did want him. But that only showed one tiny blind spot in her good judgment. He’d be a scoundrel to take advantage of her.
“Dillen, is there anything else I can offer you?”
There sure the hell was, but he couldn’t say it out loud.
“Nothing. Thanks,” he managed. “Fine meal, that.”
She beamed. “Thank you.”
Gosh, she was a beauty, especially when she smiled.
Roberts rose. “Let’s go tuck in by that hearth. Dillen, go get your fiddle.”
“Oh, no. Alice doesn’t want to hear my fiddling.”
She pressed her hands together. “Yes, I do. Bring it, please.”
He left her to go get his father’s fiddle, and when he returned, Roberts was smoking by the fire, telling the boys about an Indian attack that had happened years ago, though whether in Bill’s memory or his imagination was unclear. Alice was nowhere to be seen.
“Alice?” he asked, laying his fiddle on the mantel.
Bill thumbed toward the back of the house. “Chased us out of her kitchen.”
Dillen headed through the dining room and found Alice drying the last of the dishes.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
She startled and then smiled, returning the plates to the cupboards. “All finished.”
He approached, seeming unable to keep his distance from this woman. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I’d imagine there are many things you don’t know about me.” She reached behind her back and untied her apron, ducking out of the collar and setting it aside before brushing off her skirts.
“I’ve never seen you in a dress like that before,” he said.
“It’s new.”
He frowned. Of course it was. Likely she bought it, perhaps an entire wardrobe for her little rustic adventure.
Alice’s brow knit as if she recognized the misstep. “Do you like it?” She lifted the skirts and turned this way and that. Here was the Alice he recalled. Charming, bubbly and full of unreasonable optimism where he was concerned. She’d overestimated everything about him, especially his prospects.
“Yes,” he said truthfully, stepping in, looping an arm behind her back even as he told himself to leave her be.
She rested her hands on his chest and smiled up at him. For just a moment he pretended that she was his, that those boys were their children and she was a mother instead of a lady of means.
“Thank you for taking such good care of them,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome.” Her hand lifted and stroked the rough stubble at his jaw. She cast him a winning smile. “I saw your performance. You are a trick rider!”
He stiffened. “How?”
She motioned toward the window above the sink. The world beyond was now dark, but he realized she would have a fine view of the riding ring from here. The fact that she’d seen his shenanigans did not please him.
He did not share her delight. Rather he felt a wash of shame. A man might have to dig ditches for a living or dress like a clown to put food on the table, but it didn’t make him proud.
Dillen released Alice and stepped away. “I did a stint with the circus.”
“Really?” She still seemed fascinated, but her smile now looked brittle.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “Want to...” He motioned his head toward the living room.
“Oh, yes.”
For the next hour, Dillen played and Alice sang. Bill even sang a tune or two and the boys joined in on anything they knew. It was a magical evening. But afterward Dillen forced himself to remember that despite her wardrobe change, Alice was still a lady and he was still a saddle tramp.
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