The Gift Of Family: Merry Christmas, Cowboy. Linda Ford
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pulling Becca’s attention from the activity in the store.
But it did not stop her from trying to guess what sent Colt skittering away so fast.
* * *
First time for everything.
As if he felt neglected because only a two-year-old child saw fit to show appreciation. A self-pitying statement if he’d ever heard one. Dare he hope she’d think he was only joshing? But he feared he’d seen a flicker of something in her eyes before he ducked from the room. Whether it was pity or something else, he would not consider.
The storm was over. He should be on his way, but the kids would soon be off to the fort with Becca where they’d be treated kindly...as kindly as mixed-race children could expect, and he knew from experience it was hit or miss—mostly hit of the physical sort, as it turned out.
The outer door blew open and a weathered, bewhiskered man entered the store.
“Seems we survived the first big blow of the season.”
“How do, Petey. You planning to head out soon?” Macpherson glanced out the window. “Don’t see the stagecoach.”
Colt watched the pair. So this was the driver. Seemed his promise to stay until the kids were on their way would be short-lived.
Petey strode to the stove and held his hands toward the heat. “Came to tell you I ain’t going ’til after Christmas.”
Macpherson straightened and stared at the man. “You don’t say.” He didn’t sound pleased by the announcement.
“Rufus invited me to stay with him.”
“At the livery station?”
“Rufus and me go back a long ways. ’Bout the closest thing we have to family. Figure we should spend Christmas together.”
“Of course.” Macpherson strode to the window and peered out.
Colt didn’t move. Tried to become invisible, but Little Joe squirmed and chattered, drawing Macpherson’s attention and a glower.
Petey glanced at the little boy then at Colt. “You taking that kid out in this weather?”
Macpherson answered. “They’re going to the fort on the stage.”
“Then it looks like you’ll have visitors for Christmas.”
Macpherson did not look pleased at the prospect, but moved to tend to Petey’s order.
A few minutes later the man left with a bundle of goods that Colt figured would be used to celebrate the season.
Colt and Macpherson stared at each other, then Macpherson headed to the living quarters. Colt hung back, Little Joe playing in his arms. Christmas was a family time. Even Petey knew that. Colt wasn’t family. He’d buy a few supplies and be on his way.
Macpherson paused in the doorway. “You better come along.”
Colt knew what to expect. He’d be leaving within the hour.
“Don’t suppose you heard Old Petey out there.” Macpherson sounded weary as he spoke to Becca.
Becca had been supervising Marie washing the table. Her smile faded. “He’s here already? I thought—”
“He’s spending Christmas with Rufus at the livery barn. I can’t imagine why he’d choose to stay cooped up in the tiny room at the back of the barn when he could enjoy Christmas at the fort.”
Becca clapped her hands. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
Colt stared in disbelief and confusion.
Macpherson grunted. “Why is that?”
“I can spend Christmas here with you.” She spoke directly to her pa, then shifted her gaze to the two children who had gone to the corner to play. “And I can give them the best Christmas ever.”
Her words hit Colt like a blow to the stomach. It meant he’d have to say goodbye to them right away, but he acknowledged it would be best for them. Only it would be lonely for him.
He was being plumb ridiculous. He’d been alone most of his life, even when he found shelter with a family.
“You are most generous,” he murmured, letting his gaze rest momentarily on her face, taking in her sunny smile and sky-colored eyes. He would never forget her. Recalling her features would warm many cold, lonely nights. He jerked away to confront Macpherson.
“I’ll get those supplies now and be on my way.” He headed for the door, expecting Macpherson to follow.
But before her pa could take a step, Becca sprang forward and grabbed Colt’s arm.
“You can’t mean you intend to leave.” She kept her words low so the children wouldn’t hear, but nevertheless, they rang with accusation. “They’ll be so upset, they won’t be able to enjoy Christmas. You must stay and help me make it special for them.” She pleaded silently, her eyes soft, then her face filled with determination. “Didn’t you promise them—and me—you would stay until they were on the stage?” When he didn’t answer, she turned to her pa. “Tell him to stay. Tell him we need him to make this work. Tell him—” She ran out of steam.
Macpherson studied his daughter for some time, then shrugged and turned to Colt. “Really doesn’t make sense to ride out on your own unless you’re in a hurry to get someplace.”
Was he? Part of him said he should leave now before he was driven away. Leave with his pride intact. His heart untouched.
“Please stay,” Becca murmured.
Her voice made him forget all the sound reasons for going.
“For Christmas?” Was it really what she meant?
“We’ll make it the best Christmas ever.”
Did she realize she hadn’t added “for the children”? Was it worth risking all the solid walls he’d built around his soul to find out?
“I’ll stay.”
A large portion of his brain told him he would be less thankful before this sojourn ended, but he could only hope he’d be able to say it had been worth whatever pain it brought.
Chapter Three
Colt meant to see that no one regretted having him spend Christmas here, so when Macpherson returned to the store, Colt followed hard on his heels, scooping Little Joe into his arms again before the boy could start his ear-splitting cries. Marie seemed content to keep Becca company.
“Can I do something to help?” he asked the older man.
“Thanks. I could use a hand.” Macpherson prepared to move a barrel to the other end of the counter.
Colt put Little Joe down. “Stay here.”
“If I take the bolts of fabric off this table, I can shift it closer to the corner and give me room for a better display of tools.”
“I’ll do that.” Colt lifted the bolts to the counter. Little Joe stuck to his heels like a tick on a warm dog. He wanted to warn the boy not to get used to Colt being there.
Even at the fort they could expect to be shunned by both races because of the blood of the other flowing through their veins. Colt learned a person fit nowhere but in his own skin. He’d found his place by doing what he liked best, what he was good at—caring for horses and riding the high pastures.
The table was empty, and Macpherson indicated Colt should help shove it into the place he’d chosen. That done, he handed Colt a rag. Little Joe tagged along after Colt’s every step.
“Might as well clean it while it’s empty.” The older man grabbed a broom and swept the floor.
“Nice prayer