A Western Christmas. Louise M. Gouge
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yet something inside Ellie rebelled at the notion of him seeking a mail-order bride. She couldn’t imagine him taking vows with a woman he didn’t know, or love. But perhaps that was the point.
Perhaps Caleb couldn’t bear the idea of anyone replacing Lizzie in his heart and thus wasn’t averse to marrying for his children’s sake at the sacrifice of his own.
Depressing thought.
Despite her recent heartbreak, Ellie still believed in love and marriage. Her parents had modeled the joy that came from a godly union. The memory of their genuine affection for one another would always be with her, and was what drove Ellie’s desire to marry for love, only love. Her disastrous experience with Monroe had only managed to solidify her view.
Fortunately, her father had found love a second time around and would soon marry again. Betsy Anderson was yet another connection Ellie had with Caleb. The woman her father would marry on New Year’s Eve was currently serving as Caleb’s housekeeper. Betsy was a kind woman and good to Ellie’s father. She truly made him happy and that made Ellie happy.
The thought of her father reminded her of the one task he’d charged her with this morning. She’d been so caught off guard by Caleb’s attempt at conversation that she’d inadvertently avoided her duty.
She slipped a quick glance out the window. Her gaze landed on the handsome sheriff climbing off his horse and she felt a jolt of...something in the center of her heart. Ellie was going to have to seek him out and speak to him again today.
If not now, when?
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She left Kate gaping after her.
* * *
Shaking his head over the inexplicable compulsion to stop and speak with Ellie Wainwright—about the weather, no less—Caleb swung Gideon’s reins over the hitching rail outside the jailhouse. He reached inside his jacket pocket for the carrot he’d brought with him. As he fed the horse his morning treat, Caleb stroked a hand down the animal’s majestic neck and took a quick inventory of the activity around him.
People hurried about their business, their breaths pluming in frozen puffs around their heads. Horses whinnied, dogs barked, children laughed, a door slammed in the distance.
Drawing in a long pull of air, he breathed in the scent of freshly fallen snow and pine. Instead of calming him, the aroma sparked a renewed surge of urgency. Today was the first day of December and he still hadn’t found himself a wife.
Time was running out if he wanted to provide the twins with a stable home by Christmas. They’d only known upheaval and heartache in their short lives and would face another one in a month when Caleb’s housekeeper, Betsy, married Reverend Wainwright.
The proverbial clock was ticking. Caleb wouldn’t rest until he was able to give the twins the kind of safe, calm atmosphere he’d experienced as a guest at the Wainwright home.
Nostalgia washed over him, increasing his previous resolve. After his mother died and his father disappeared into the nearest saloon, the reverend had reached out to Caleb and his four brothers. Perhaps his friendship with Everett Wainwright had played a role, but only Caleb had accepted the pastor’s kindness. His untamed, out-of-control brothers had preferred living life on the edge, free to do what they pleased with no adult supervision or guidance.
Those wild, rebellious boys had grown into even wilder, undisciplined men, not outlaws, precisely, but certainly not upright citizens either.
With his brothers scattered all over the West, Caleb didn’t keep in touch with them. He felt sad about that. His children had never met their uncles. They certainly didn’t know Lizzie’s family. They—
“Caleb?” A soft, feminine voice cut off the rest of his thoughts. “Do you have a moment?”
Warmth spread through him at the low, lush request.
Smiling fondly, he looked down at Everett’s little sister for a second time in a handful of minutes. “For you, Ellie, always.”
Big blue eyes fringed with long thick lashes blinked up at him. In the same manner as when he’d spoken to her only moments earlier, words backed up in his throat and an inexplicable jolt of awareness prickled down his spine.
When had little Ellie Wainwright grown up?
When had she become such a beauty?
Even with her doll-like features scrunched in an earnest expression she was unspeakably fetching. Slender and willowy, her head barely came up to his chin. Adding to the lovely image, several caramel-colored wisps of blond hair had slipped from a messy knot at the back of her neck and now flowed against her pinked cheeks.
As he stared down at her, surprisingly unable to speak, he realized she was staring right back at him, equally speechless.
The awkward moment stretched into two.
In the silence that hung between them like a heavy mist, Caleb wondered what had brought Ellie back to Thunder Ridge at this time of year. Schoolteachers usually worked from September to June, which led him to believe her return hadn’t been entirely her decision.
Had someone hurt her? Something dark moved through him and a protective instinct took hold. If someone had done Ellie harm, Caleb would find them and make sure they understood—
He cleared his throat. Not your place. “What can I do for you, Ellie?”
She startled at the question. “Oh, I...” She swallowed, saying, “I forgot to mention earlier, I mean, when we spoke I meant to ask if you and...”
Her words trailed off and she pressed her lips tightly together. A second later, as if gathering her fortitude, she lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders in a familiar show of female bravado. Caleb smiled at the gesture. He’d always liked Everett’s little sister.
Not so little anymore.
“I...” She forced a smile. “That is, my father wanted me to ask if you and the twins would like to come over for Sunday dinner after church this week.”
The earlier feeling of nostalgia dug deeper still.
Caleb had missed Sunday dinner with the Wainwrights. He’d stopped the tradition soon after his marriage to Lizzie. Now, her voice slid across his mind, reminding him why he’d avoided the Wainwright home. You’re nothing but a charity case to the pastor and his family.
Caleb frowned at the memory. “That’s a nice offer, Ellie, but tell your father that I—”
“Please, Caleb, don’t say no.” She touched his coat sleeve with her gloved fingers. “My father will be so disappointed.”
The remark sparked a wave of guilt. Reverend Wainwright had always been good to him, better than he deserved. Yet, Caleb had all but turned his back on the man in recent years.
At first, he’d kept his distance because Lizzie hadn’t liked his friendship with Everett or any of the man’s family. Then, after her death, Caleb hadn’t known how to make things right. His inability to help Everett in his friend’s greatest hour of need had added to his reticence.
Then, there was his guilt.
Though he knew Reverend Wainwright didn’t hold him responsible for Everett’s incarceration, Caleb felt as if he’d let the man down by not trying harder to keep his son from falling in with a bad crowd. It had been a sad day when Everett ended up killing a man in order to a save a woman’s life.
He’d done the right thing but in the wrong way.
Unfortunately, the judge had taken a hard stance and sentenced Everett to seven years in the Wyoming Territorial Penitentiary.
As if sensing his hesitation, Ellie tightened her hold on his arm. “Say yes. It’ll be like old times.”
They both knew that wasn’t true. The easy days when he’d shared Sunday dinner with the Wainwrights were long