The Rancher's Christmas Princess. Christine Rimmer

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      Chapter Four

      Belle, Charlotte and Ben entered the Sweet Stop together. Ben was bundled up and tucked in his stroller. The ever-present Marcus, sporting a black eye, followed close behind them. The diner was far from empty. Apparently, many of the good citizens of Elk Creek took breakfast before dawn. As had happened the day before, a hush fell over the establishment when Belle and the others came in. People paused with their coffee mugs halfway to their lips and stared.

      Preston and Silas had taken a back booth and were waiting for them. One of them must have thought to ask for a high chair. It stood at the end of the booth. Preston, who faced the door, had a swollen lower lip and a small cut above his right eye. His gaze locked with Belle’s for a too-brief moment. An echo of last night’s magic arced between them.

      And then was gone.

      He and Silas both stood up as Belle, pushing Ben’s stroller, came toward them, Charlotte at her side. Marcus hung back near the door.

      Belle reached the men looming by the booth. She moved around to the side of the stroller to take care of Ben and suggested over her shoulder, “If you two gentlemen wouldn’t mind sitting in the inner seats? Charlotte and I need to be next to the high chair for Ben.”

      Neither of the McCade men answered. She glanced over at them. Neither had moved either. Both of them stood stock-still, wearing identical expressions of dumbstruck wonder, staring down at the child in the stroller.

      Ben, bundled up in blankets and a miniature down jacket, a blue wool hat over his white-blond hair, gazed solemnly back at them.

      Charlotte broke the silence. “Ahem. Sit down, please.” She made a shooing motion with both slim hands. “Sit down and slide over. Both of you.”

      That seemed to break the spell. The men sat and slid to the window side of the booth. Charlotte hung up her heavy coat and took the remaining seat on Silas’s side of the table. Belle got Ben out of his warm hat and fat coat.

      When she eased him into the high chair, he smiled up at her, sweet as any angel, his earlier misery completely forgotten. “Belle. Eat!” He pounded his hands flat on the chair tray—but not too hard. Just enough to punctuate his excitement at the thrilling prospect of breakfast. He loosed a happy string of nonsense noises.

      She laughed low as she took off her coat. It was so good to see him back to his cheerful little self again. “Yes, Benjamin. We shall eat.” She gave him a biscuit to keep him occupied until his meal arrived and then took the seat next to Preston, who wore a winter-green corduroy shirt and a look both stern and completely stunned.

      The waitress from yesterday, Selma, arrived with a coffeepot and an order pad. She poured coffee for all of them. Belle and Charlotte ordered.

      Selma glanced at Silas and then at Preston. Both of them said, “The usual.”

      The meal was a strange one, which really wasn’t all that surprising under the circumstances. Charlotte bravely tried to contribute something resembling conversation. She spoke of the weather and of the beauty and majesty of the local forests and mountains. Belle agreed with her companion that Montana was wild and rugged and beautiful. Charlotte had purchased a copy of the most recent edition of the Elk Creek Gazette. She’d read about the various holiday events that were coming up in the next few weeks.

      “If we’re still here, we must attend the craft fair,” she said.

      Belle agreed that, indeed, they must.

      Preston methodically shoveled in food. He had nothing to say. Neither did the previously СКАЧАТЬ