A Montana Christmas. Kristine Rolofson
Читать онлайн книгу.
The waitress was right behind him with a half-full carafe.
“Please.” He slid into the booth and dumped the blankets next to him against the wall.
“What about your wife?”
“She’s not—never mind. You can pour her some, too.”
“Just wave when you want me to take your order,” she said, after filling the second mug. She pulled a handful of plastic cream containers from her apron pocket and set them on the table.
“Thanks.” He took a sip of coffee and thought about having a piece of pie to go along with it. He was starving and there was still another hour and a half to go before they arrived at the ranch. But he’d wait for Melanie, he decided. Once she joined him at the booth and they were facing each other, maybe he could find out what was going on between her and Will.
He’d finished two-thirds of his coffee before she appeared. Her red jacket was over her arm, the baby against her shoulder, the diaper bag banging her hip as she walked. He saw she wore a brown turtleneck a shade darker than her hair and slim blue jeans that belied the fact she’d had a baby a few months ago. A lock of her hair was damp, as if she’d splashed water on her face. She wore no makeup, and didn’t need any. Not in his opinion, anyway. She managed to ease into the booth while holding the child against her.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said, moving the straps of her purse and diaper bag from her shoulder.
“That’s your coffee,” he said. “If you want tea instead I’ll have—”
“Coffee’s fine. Thanks.” The baby fussed, pulling its little feet up against Melanie’s breasts. She moved the child to the crook of her arm. The baby’s face was red, its mouth turned down as she looked up at her mother.
“Can I have one of those blankets?” Her cheeks grew pink. “There wasn’t room to feed her in the washroom. I hope you’re not the type to go running out into the parking lot.”
Jared handed over the pink fluffy blanket. He had no idea what she was talking about, not until she draped the blanket carefully around the baby, covering most of the child and, he assumed, her own left breast. No, he wasn’t going to run out into the night, but he sure as hell didn’t know where he was supposed to look while this woman breast-fed her child. The baby’s smacking noises didn’t help ease his embarrassment level, either. Melanie, obviously right-handed, took a careful sip of her coffee.
“I can sit at the counter and give you some privacy,” he offered, figuring he was the “type,” as she put it, to take the easy way out.
“If you’d be more comfortable,” she said, her voice soft. “But it doesn’t bother me—or Beth. I’m really sorry you have to go through all of this. You don’t know me and yet here we are, and there you are, and you weren’t expecting any of this, only to pick up your brother’s friend at the train station.”
It was the most he’d heard her say since they’d met. He kept his gaze fixed firmly above her neck, not that there was anything to see. Melanie had lifted her sweater and engineered the blanket so that no one farther away than arm’s length would know what was going on. He prayed the covering would stay in place, that the baby wouldn’t get rowdy, that nothing would…drip. “Do you want anything to eat?” was all he could manage to say.
“Are you having anything?”
“Yes. You can’t beat the pie here.” He handed her one of the thick plastic-coated menus propped against a ketchup bottle and watched as her face lit up. She was hungry, he realized, noting that she managed to hold the menu with one hand. “We’ve got at least an hour and a half before we get home,” he added.
She set the menu on the table and smiled. “I would love a chocolate milkshake, some toast and a large glass of ice water.”
He turned to catch the waitress’s attention and, when she came to their booth, gave the order. She showed no sign of noticing that Melanie was feeding her child, so maybe this wasn’t such a strange occurrence after all.
“Will said you have a large cattle ranch.”
“We’ve been lucky.” He drained his coffee and hoped the waitress would return to give him a refill. “The place has been in the family for a long, long time. Where are you from?”
“Massachusetts, originally. And then I lived in D.C.”
He waited for her to add something about her family or her reasons for living in Washington, but she took another sip of her coffee and then lifted the edge of the blanket to check on her daughter’s progress.
“Why’d you take the train?” he couldn’t help asking.
“I’m afraid to fly.”
There was more to it, he was sure. Where’s the child’s father was something else he’d like to know. And why the SOB would let his family spend two and a half days on a train to spend the holidays with strangers.
She looked toward the counter as two more men, their hats and coats dusted with snow, entered the restaurant and wiped their boots on the rubber mat near the door. “It’s snowing harder now. Will we be all right?”
“It might take us longer to get home, but it would take a lot more snow than this to cause trouble.” Jared glanced at the window, but a row of checked curtains hid his view of the parking lot. “This is typical Montana weather, nothing to worry about.”
She smiled, a flash of sweetness that threatened his breathing. “Will talked about you a lot. He said, ‘Nothing ever bothers my older brother.”’
Well, Will hadn’t seen him drink coffee with a breast-feeding woman.
“WE’RE HERE,” A GRUFF MALE voice announced. Melanie didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to move, either. Not that she could remember where she was, exactly, but this place was warm and quiet, and sleep was such a rare pleasure she couldn’t bear for it to end.
“Melanie,” the voice repeated. “We’re at the ranch.”
The ranch. It took several seconds for those words to make sense, but Melanie blinked and opened her eyes as cold air brushed across her face. The tall rancher shut his door with a quiet click, but the overhead light stayed on. Melanie sat up and unbuckled her seat belt. Her neck was stiff, but she’d been in such a deep sleep she didn’t mind. She climbed into the back seat as Jared opened the passenger door.
“Be careful getting out. It’s snowing pretty hard and it’s slippery,” he said, but he didn’t look the least bit cold as he stood there in the dark. There were snowflakes coating his hair and the shoulders of his bulky jacket. Every inch the western hero, there was something about Jared that radiated strength and calm, a man sure of himself and what mattered in his life. His brother had that same confidence, but with easier manners and a knack for conversation.
She realized she was staring and turned her attention back to unhitching the straps of the car seat and gathering the blankets around her sleeping child. Her arms were so tired that they trembled as she lifted the baby.
“Give her to me,” he said. “It’s safer that way.”
“All right.” She covered Beth’s face with the corner of the blanket. Behind Jared light glowed, and when he moved the bucket seat forward to take the baby, Melanie saw a large porch and the bright windows of a very big house. She followed him, though not as quickly as she would have liked. The wind blew the breath back into her mouth when she stepped onto the ground, forcing her to lower her head and hurry after Jared as best she could. She slammed the truck’s door and hurried through the snow toward a porch so long it appeared to stretch across the entire length of the house and then some. A door opened and she heard a woman’s voice call out, but Melanie concentrated on negotiating the three wide steps to the porch before she looked up.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re home,” a lovely silver-haired woman she assumed was Jared’s