Once Upon a Montana Christmas

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

“A unt Carol! Mrs. Walker!” Eva heard Devon, one of the old cowboy ranch hands, shout out in desperation from the entry.

She came running downstairs with Lily in her arms and Nero at her heels. “What’s the matter, Devon?”

“Larkspur…is in…labor,” he began with breathless gasps. “We need help. She’s too worked up and ain’t gonna make it.”

“Smythe took Aunt Carol, Mrs. Strauss, and Miss Hayley to Warm Springs to visit Mrs. Arnold this afternoon. They aren’t due back till tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Walker said from behind Eva. “Mr. Hunt’s gone to town.”

Oh, she wished Hunt were here, but he would not be back for a couple of hours yet. Eva had to think fast. Biting her lower lip, she glanced about, unsure what to do. And then, in a firm, controlled voice, she took charge. “Devon, calm yourself. Go back to Larkspur’s stall, and I’ll be there straight away.” She did not know exactly what assistance she could offer, but she knew she had to do something, if only to smooth down Devon’s agitation, which would not be helpful in any case.

Turning to the housekeeper, she pleaded, “Can you keep Lily with you? I don’t know how long this will take.”

Eva knew this was a terrible imposition. Ever since their arrival, Mrs. Walker had wanted nothing to do with tending to the baby. However, the woman must have sensed the urgency of the situation, and without argument, took Lily. Nero followed the pair into the kitchen.

Eva ran upstairs and put on her warmest clothes. Snow flurries had left their mark earlier on. The sun was still high in the sky, but the stables were sure to be cold.

Inside Larkspur’s stall, Devon and Mr. Walker were trying to help the struggling mare. Eva did not know anything about birthing horses, or any animal for that matter, but she could bring some organization to the chaos of the stall.

She moved a bucket and a pitchfork to the side out of the way, hung a jacket one of the men had shed, and ran back up to the house to see about a meal for both of them. Then she begged two old towels from Mrs. Walker and carried a jug of fresh water back to the barn, along with the food.

Once the food was deposited on the table, she went to the stall. “What can do to help?” she said as she settled down by the horse’s head.

“Keep her calm, miss. That’ll help,” Devon said.

How did one keep a horse calm? She noticed that Larkspur wasn’t really putting up much of a fuss. Bloody hell . Unsure what to do, she let her instincts guide her and began stroking the mare’s forelock. To her, the horse seemed hot and unresponsive. Her heartbeat quickening and sounds around her fading into a mild hum, Eva focused all her energy on Larkspur. Tucking the edge of her skirt under the horse’s head, she continued to stroke her, massaging down her neck and up again, hoping that the movement would soothe the animal.

She watched Larkspur’s stomach rise and fall with shuddering breaths. She did not know how many hours had passed, but she was exhausted. Larkspur was not out of danger, and according to the men, she wouldn’t be until the foal was born.

For the hundredth time, she wished Hunt were here.

“I see something coming,” Devon cried out.

Eva continued to stroke Larkspur’s head and rock back and forth. “Please don’t die,” she whispered over and over as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “Your baby needs you.”

* * *

Hunt’s business in town had taken longer than expected, but he wanted everything to be perfect. To make matters worse, after it had grown dark, wet snow had begun to fall again and made the way icy.

The main house was a welcome sight indeed. He wondered if anyone would still be up. As he got closer, he could see a faint light coming from the stables.

Urging the weary horse on, he picked up the pace. By the time he reached the stable yard, he could hear commotion from within. Larkspur must have gone into labor. He’d been afraid this would happen. It was not the best time of year for a horse to be birthing, and he suspected from the size of her belly the unborn foal was big.

His heart stopped as he made his way back to the mare’s stall and saw Eva, sitting in the hay stroking Larkspur’s head.

She was openly crying while rubbing the horse’s neck. “Please don’t die. Your baby needs you,” she said over and over, crooning to the mare.

A tremor ran through him as he watched her, lost in some kind of trance.

“Please don’t die. She can’t grow up without a mother.” Eva continued with her pleas. “CeCe, please! You must fight it!”

“Oh, dear God,” Hunt muttered under his breath. Eva must be reliving the day his sister died. He went to her and scooped the startled woman up into his arms. He had an uncontrollable urge to hold her. Eva buried her face in his chest and continued to sob.

The two hands had not even seemed to notice Hunt’s return, they were so focused on Larkspur. It was only when Hunt, concerned about the state Eva was in, barked out the fact he was taking Miss Eva up to the house that they looked up. He knew he could trust his ranch hands to do right by the horse.

Right now, Eva needed him.

As he carried her through the yard, the snow was coming down even harder and ice crunched beneath his fast steps. By the time he reached the veranda, Eva was soaked, and he could hear her teeth chattering. He needed to get her inside by a warm fire and into dry clothes. He took her straight up to her room, set her down on her feet by the bed and stripped off her soaked dress and shift, trying to keep his eyes averted from her lovely body.

Only after her clothes were off, and she was wrapped in a blanket and perched on the side of the bed, did he remove his winter coat, boots, and wet socks. He built up the fire, and then brought the rocker closer to the warmth.

Gathering Eva within the warm blanket in his arms, he carried her over to the rocker, and sat cradling her in his arms. She seemed stunned by the events of the evening and her recollection of CeCe’s death. Hunt felt helpless as he held her and she wept, but at least she was no longer shuddering with cold.

“I tried to help her but there was nothing I could do,” he heard her cry into his chest.

“Shh, no one is blaming you.” He kissed the top of her head. She smelled like a sweet rose on the first day of spring after a long winter of deprival. He stroked her damp cheek. There was one question he needed to ask, and perhaps it would help both of them to let go of the past. “May I ask you something?”

She did not speak, but nodded her head in reply.

“Did CeCe suffer much?”

Shifting her head to one side against his chest, she said, “I…don’t know…she…” He felt her body jolt as she began to sob again. “She was…delirious from...”

“Shh, I’m here,” he said as he rubbed her back with gentle circles.

For the first time that evening, she looked at him. Her eyes were swollen and red from hours of crying. He saw the anguish them and wanted desperately to take away the pain.

Kissing each puffy eye, then showering her cheek and jaw with more kisses, his desire for her rose as all the tension he had been harboring for years began to fade. He paused only for a moment before he took her mouth in soft, sensual possession.

Eva responded with a sweet sigh. If she would allow him, he would take away all the pain.

“Hunt.” He heard her whisper his name with the same urgent desire he felt. “I want to be yours, only yours.”

It was the only encouragement he needed. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her. He had not trusted her back then, but he’d still hungered for her.

Over the course of the intervening weeks, he had come to know her and found her honest and sincere, caring and genuine. There were no ulterior motives, no demands. He was confident she was all that she appeared to be.

He pulled the blanket down, exposing her breasts to the warm glow of the firelight. He traced her nipple with one finger. Eva’s eyes softened and her breathing increased with his touch. He bent his head and took the now taut nipple into his mouth and suckled her sweet flesh.

Eva was lost to the emotions Hunt awakened in her. Every part of her stirred to life and ached with want. She wanted him to untangle her from the warm blanket cocoon and expose her flesh to his growing passion. She stroked his shirtfront over his chest, loving the feel of his firm muscles beneath her hands. She worked her way up his neck and then intertwined her fingers in his dark hair, pulling his head closer to her breast.

“More,” she whispered into the silent night, “more.”

Hunt must have understood her plea. In one swift movement, he stood and carried her to the bed. He placed her on the soft surface and pulled the blanket off her naked form. He gazed down at her. “You are so beautiful.”

He wasted no time in divesting the remainder of his clothes. There was no shyness or hesitation, only a fluttering of anticipation in her chest. Though she was entering the unknown, she felt safe with him. She had never felt this way in her entire life. In that moment, it did not matter to her that they were not married, or that he had not declared his intentions. All that mattered was their mutual desire and this one perfect moment.

When he joined her on the bed, stretching out alongside her, her body begged for the passion that his hands had promised to unleash. The same finger that had done exquisite things to her breast only moments ago now wove an intricate pattern down her stomach and over her thatch of curls. Everywhere he touched tingled to life. She shivered in anticipation as one cool finger, and then another, entered her, slowly stroking the inner folds of her womanhood.

“You’re so wet.” The awe in his words made her warm all over. She was thankful that the room was cast in shadows, hiding the blush she was certain spanned the entire length of her body.

He bent his head and took her mouth in a deep kiss, while his fingers mimicked the same motion as his tongue. She could feel a quivering excitement rise from within. He shifted his weight over her as he removed his fingers. She reached for his hand to pull him back but found the loss was only momentary as she felt the tip of his manhood at the entrance of her most delicate spot.

“This might hurt,” she heard him whisper with restraint. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, impatient with need. In one swift movement, he penetrated her to her very core. When she cried out, he stilled, his breathing labored.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to reassure him. He did not speak, but showered her face with soft kisses. Her breathing increased as his hips moved with gentle ease back and forth. The pain was gone, replaced by pleasure.

The excitement from within began to build again. He ran a rough hand down her torso, and lower still, cupping her bottom and squeezing hard. As she arched her hips to get closer, another wave of pleasure that had started from the depths of her soul consumed her.

“Oh, my…Hunt,” she uttered into the night. A moment later, she felt his body shudder and relax against hers.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, rubbing her back with affection. Eva nuzzled into him, feeling his warmth and strength surround her. She heard him whisper, “My English rose,” before she drifted off into sweet slumber.

* * *

By the time Eva awoke, the sun had been making its presence known in the sky for several hours. She did not want to get up, but Mrs. Walker had been tending to Lily all night and was most likely in need of a break. Her body ached, but it was a good ache, the kind from being loved. She smiled as she stretched her limbs and wondered where Hunt had gone off to. She could not wait to tell him how she felt. After last night, she had no doubt that their feelings were mutual. It promised to be a good day.

She went about her toilette and dressed in her new suede skirt that Aunt Carol had bought her for the Christmas festival. Her heart fluttered anew as she reflected on the events of the past evening, when the sound of a horse whinnying caught her attention.

Sunlight filtered into the ample space as she pulled back the curtain. Mrs. Strauss had just arrived from town and seemed all in a huff over something. She wondered what had happened to cause the woman to become so agitated and red in the face. Hunt was now at his aunt’s side and they exchanged words, which only seemed to aggravate Roberta more.

Eva knew that she shouldn’t pay attention to other people’s business, but curiosity had got the better of her. She pushed the curtain farther aside, careful not to be seen, unlocked the window and raised it, trying not to make a sound.

“I just came from Mrs. Bluitt’s, and she told me that she found Nelly’s locket.” She heard Mrs. Strauss say.

“What of it? It is none of her business.” Hunt’s tone was harsh in reply.

“When are you going to tell that poor girl about Nelly?”

Who was Nelly, Eva wondered, and what poor girl needed to know about her?

Hunt made some response, but Eva could not make out the words. Unfortunately, not only did she hear the next sentence that spewed from Mrs. Strauss’s mouth, she felt pain pierce right through her heart.

“Nelly is your wife! You owe Miss Kenward an explanation. Now, if you can’t be honest…” Mrs. Strauss’s words trailed off as Hunt stormed away in the direction of the stables, yelling for his horse to be saddled.

Married? Bloody hell, how could he have kept this from her? Eva realized she was the poor girl Mrs. Strauss referred to. She felt ill. And where was his wife? More pain sliced through her chest and she sank to the floor.

She was not going to be any man’s mistress, regardless of how much she loved him.

She rocked herself back and forth, trying to decide her best course of action. She could not bear the thought of hearing a string of excuses from Hunt. Everything that she had believed of him had been shattered.

He had already humiliated her by treating her like a trollop. Just the word trollop made her stomach reel. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her countenance. There would be no future here for her, no happy ending.

Her mind was made up. She would not stay. She would pack her meager belongings and be gone before Hunt returned.

With unsteady hands, she pulled her small tapestry bag out from underneath the bed and stuffed her few things inside.

She went to the bureau and her eyes filled with tears as she studied all the little mementos she had been collecting since she’d arrived. Colorful rocks that she and Hunt had found down by the stream, a feather from a hawk, and a length of the gold ribbon used to decorate the Christmas tins were all part of her collection.

Instead of recalling good memories, the items only served to remind her of Hunt’s betrayal. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out the blue and white cameo that had belonged to CeCe. A week ago, she’d tried to give it back to Hunt, but he would not take it, saying his sister would have wanted her to have it.

Now, she wanted nothing to remind her of this place, or her time with him. Sighing heavily, she placed the cameo in the center of her collection.

Hastily, she left the room and snuck down the hall. Her heart was racing as she tiptoed down the stairs and headed toward the back door. She was almost to her destination when she heard a woman gasp.

“Miss Kenward, where are you going?” Mrs. Roberta Strauss questioned.

Sucking in her breath, not wanting this woman to see her humiliation, she simply stated, “I think it best I leave, Mrs. Strauss. Start my own life.”

If the woman suspected that Eva had overheard her conversation with Hunt just a short time ago, she did not let on. “I’m sorry to see you go. Is there anything I can do?”

“I require a ride to the train station, and…” Eva hesitated. She had not thought this through. What would she do without funds? Mrs. Strauss had once offered assistance. Would that offer still stand? “A loan. I would pay you back with interest?—”

“No need, my dear.” Mrs. Strauss’s tone was sweet as she said, “I am all too pleased to help you leave and start a new life.”

Eva detested having to ask the woman for assistance, but at this point she was so humiliated she did not care what Roberta Strauss hoped to gain from her departure. It would not be the first time, or the last she suspected, that she would have to swallow her pride.

The horses had not yet been unhitched from Mrs. Strauss’s arrival a short time ago, and the carriage was still ready for travel. Mrs. Strauss brought the conveyance round to the back where Eva stood waiting at the door. She could feel the warmth of the house behind her, begging her to stay, as she descended the steps. No matter how much she wanted to, Eva was not going to look back. Head held high, she stepped up into the carriage.

As they traveled down the muddy lane in silence, the winter wind whipped through her and rattled her senses. She could hear Nero howling in the distance. Hopefully Hunt would be kind to the dog…and Lily.

How she would miss that little girl.

She blinked away the hot tears that threatened to spill. If it were possible for a heart to break from sorrow, hers had just shattered.

She wrapped her arms about herself, her firm grip clutching her coat. She stared straight ahead, not wanting to take in her surroundings. She did not want to remember anything about this place, especially her wanton behavior last night. Leaving was her only alternative. She would not come between a man and his wife.

* * *

Hunt was in a foul mood. His encounter with his aunt that morning had left a sour taste in his mouth. As soon as he returned from his short ride, he was telling the woman he wanted her and her annoying daughter on the next train out of Cottonwood.

He brought Dakota to a slower gait. The ranch house stood as a proud sentinel on the vast horizon. A sense of pride enveloped him. Everyone that meant the world to him was here—Aunt Carol, Lily, Eva…especially Eva. He had made amends with his past the day he placed Nelly’s locket on her grave. It was time to live in the present and create a future.

As he approached, Mrs. Walker rushed out the front door, holding Lily, who was wailing. Nero was howling, and Mrs. Walker was crying out to him, “She’s gone!”

He did not know what the woman was about, but his gut told him she wasn’t referring to his aunt. He rode straight up to the veranda and didn’t bother to dismount.

“Who’s gone?” he growled out through gritted teeth, suspecting he was not going to like the answer to his question.

“Eva,” she started sobbing as she explained, “Lily was fussing. I figured she wanted Eva. When I went to her room, it was empty. Her things are gone.”

“Where’s my aunt?” His muscles tensed as his heartbeat increased, his anger at a boiling point. He had no doubt who was responsible for this state of events.

“I don’t know. Smythe said she took the carriage back out, but he did not see Eva.”

Damn Roberta. He’d known she was up to no good this morning when she confronted him about the locket. He was going to tell Eva everything about his past, but it wasn’t easy for him to talk about his feelings. And now she was gone.

Turning the horse around, he kicked Dakota into a full gallop and headed toward town. Time seemed to stand still. Although he had not even been riding for thirty minutes, it felt like days. When he caught sight of the carriage about five hundred yards away, he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t too late.

Once they were clear of the main house, Mrs. Strauss became quite the chatterbox, much to Eva’s dismay.

“Now, once you reach San Francisco, go straight to Mr. Jarvis. He’s a business associate of my late husband and will set you up with employment. And don’t fret over the money, consider it a gift. I am just pleased to help you leave Montana.” The woman rambled on and on about how pleased she was to help Eva, how this was the beginning of a new life.

Eva rubbed her aching temples and wished she had the ability to strike the woman dumb.

Despite her initial unwillingness to look about, the land called to her. White puffy clouds dotted the vast blue sky, and the surrounding snow-capped hills looked like a landscape painting, too perfect to be real. Perhaps, one day, she would look back on this time as just a beautiful dream that had never really happened. She heard birds chirping above the sound of the carriage wheels. But it was another sound in the distance behind that caught her attention.

When she turned around, her voice caught in her throat, and her pulse quickened. “Hunt,” she whispered out on a sob. He was galloping at a breakneck pace and only slowed when he was upon them.

“Stop the carriage!” he shouted out. Eva could see his aunt’s hesitation before she pulled on the reins, causing the horses to neigh in protest.

Without so much as a word to Eva, Hunt reached over and plucked her from her seat, dragging her across his saddle and settling her in front of him.

Her body tingled all over, betraying her heart. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could muster the words, Hunt spoke first. “Not now!” The anger in his tone startled her into silence. Whipping his head around to face his aunt, he growled out in a tone that brooked no argument, “I want you and Hayley gone today. Do not ever come here again.” He turned Dakota back towards the house and nudged the horse into an easy canter. He looked down at her. “Why did you leave?”

Glaring at him as if he had lost his mind, Eva swallowed hard and said, “You are married!” She shifted her body, trying to create at least some distance between them. She would not make the same mistake twice. “I will not come between you and…”

She could hear the remorse in his voice as he uttered into her ear, “Eva, she’s dead. Nelly died five years ago in childbirth.”

Eva gaped at him and did not know what to say. She had almost made the biggest mistake of her life. Tears streamed down her cheek. She wiped them away, hoping that he had not noticed.

The silence lingered on as they rode to the stables. Smythe approached to help her down, and then turned and took the reins from Hunt, who had just dismounted.

When Hunt looked at her, she could see the sorrow on his face. He reached for her hand and guided her into the large, well-maintained barn.

The look of sympathy Eva had just given him did not sit well. He wanted to set things straight. No more secrets. But the last thing he wanted was her pity.

The stables had always been a place of comfort, a sanctuary for him. Breathing in the scent of hay and horses, he began, “I married Nelly six years ago, the day after I graduated college. I thought she wanted to share my life on the ranch, but she was only interested in a rich husband. Turned out she hated ranch life.”

He glanced down at Eva as he continued to explain, “Her family had been wealthy at one time, but her father lost everything in a sour business deal. Within a couple of months, it was clear that our marriage was in trouble. I thought that we could work things out. I had to take cattle to market. Aunt Carol had not moved here yet, and I didn’t want Nelly to be alone, so I moved her into town. By the time I returned from the long cattle drive, she was pregnant with another man’s child.”

“I’m sorry…”

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he scolded, “I am not telling you these things because I want your sympathy. I am telling you because I do not want any secrets between us. Despite rumors, I did not harm her. I would never have hurt her or the child.”

Eva reached up and cupped his cheek. He loved the feel of her soft hands on him. “I believe you. Despite your hard facade, you are quite lovely underneath.”

The words she spoke went straight to his heart. He would spend the rest of his life ensuring her happiness. The morning had not turned out as he planned, but he would make it up to her.

“I have a surprise for you.” As he took her hand in his, he could feel his soul—that had laid dormant for so long—spark to life. When they reached the far end of the stables, he pointed into the last stall. “Look.”

Eva did not know what to expect when she peered in, but the sight of Larkspur with her foal was the best gift she could have ever asked for.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She hiccupped on a sob and asked with hesitation, “She…she is going to be all right?”

“Both mother and foal are doing fine.”

Eva was so overcome with emotion that she had not noticed that he was down on one knee until he began to speak. “I may not be a man of many words, but I love you and will see that you want for nothing if only you will be my wife.”

Her hands shook in his, as the tears continued to flow. With unrestrained happiness, she said, “I don’t need anything but you.”

He jumped up and caught her in his arms, twirling her around as he kissed her senseless. “I love you, my English rose.”