The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series) (2 page)

“I never would have met Tanner if it wasn’t for her,” Beth acknowledged quietly. “Though I almost wound up with Tucker, now I’m grateful to her.”

“Yes, but don’t you think she deserves the same happiness that we have with our husbands?” Rose asked, thinking that her mother-in-law deserved her own chance at happiness. “Thomas Burnett has sbeen dead for well over five years. It would be better for her to have a man she could focus her attention on rather than her sons.”

“And grandchildren,” Beth said.

“And matchmaking. You did hear that she has sent six women to Wyatt’s place with casserole dishes,” Sarah volunteered.

Rose giggled like a young girl, thinking of Eugenia’s reaction to Wyatt’s casserole dish display. The gossip had spread faster than cholera through town. “I would love to have witnessed her reaction when Wyatt laid out all those empty casserole dishes in front of her.”

“Has she mentioned Wyatt? Do you think she’s interested in getting married again?” Beth asked.

Sarah shook her head. “Oh no, she wants nothing to do with getting married herself. She told Tucker at dinner the other night that there was no way that she would saddle herself with another husband. One was enough.”

There was a group sigh, and for a moment everyone sat there in silence. Finally, Beth said, “Did either of you want to get married?”

The other two women shook their heads.

“No way,” Rose responded, remembering her dreams of being like her mother, an actress on the stage.

“Not really,” Sara replied. “I had my son and my practice, what more could I need?”

“Yet, when we fell in love, we wanted to marry our husbands,” Rose said.

“And how did we meet our husbands?” Beth asked.

“Eugenia,” the three women responded in unison. They laughed.

“How do we help her fall in love?” Rose asked, trying to remember when she realized she loved Travis. They had fought each other and the feeling for so long that when they finally succumbed, it was euphoric.

Sara grinned. “We do what Mama Burnett did. Every chance we get, we wrangle them together.”

Rose leaned back and laughed. Eugenia wouldn’t let Travis arrest her again, so she’d stayed at the ranch because of Eugenia. “Wyatt hasn’t been to the ranch recently. We’ll invite him for dinner next weekend. Beth and I will plan everything, and you and Tucker can come out. The whole family will get to meet Mr. Jones.”

“You know, there’s the annual Christmas tree event coming up soon. Let’s do everything we can to arrange for them to be in the same wagon,” Beth said, laughing gleefully.

“The meeting about the Christmas pageant is in two weeks. Eugenia said she was going to volunteer again to be the pageant director,” Sarah said, unable to contain a giggle.

“But this year, Mr. Davis passed away. They need a new coordinator. Wonder if we can convince Wyatt he would make an excellent organizer,” Rose said excitedly.

They laughed.

Sara nodded at her sisters-in-law. “Sometimes what we do can come back to haunt us. This time Eugenia is going to meet her match.”

Rose nodded, thinking poor Eugenia was going to get quite a surprise. “This time we’re doing the matchmaking.”

#

Wyatt looked over at Gus, his ranch foreman, the man who’d been at his side for nearly twenty years. Since Beatrice’s death, Wyatt had taken to eating in the bunkhouse with the men rather than up at the large, empty house he rumbled around in.

After dinner, he and Gus usually came back to the house where they would share a whiskey or two before they each headed off to bed.

“It’s December, and already that north wind is colder than a well-digger’s ass in Montana,” Gus said, backing up to the blaze, warming his backside.

Tonight was cold, and Wyatt had started a fire in the hearth to chase the chill from the study. He’d refused to let Beatrice decorate this one room. This room belonged to him, and he’d decorated it just the way he damn well pleased. Now, he wanted to move his bed in here rather than sleep in that lonely bedroom upstairs. He missed his wife, the healthy Beatrice, not the woman who’d wasted away before his eyes.

“Yes, we probably need to have the men go ahead and move the cattle to the south pasture, where we can keep an eye on them. Looks like winter arrived early this year.”

Books graced the shelves along with liquor bottles. Above the fireplace mantel hung his ten-point buck he’d shot right after they built the house. This house, his home, held so many memories, and now he was ready to create more memories with someone, maybe even Eugenia.

“Yap,” Gus responded and then rubbed his belly. “I was getting spoilt to those casseroles you kept bringing out. What happened? They’ve dried up worse than the creek in summer.”

“I put an end to them,” Wyatt responded, remembering the look on Eugenia’s face as he’d pulled out the empty dishes. Sometimes a man had to get the upper hand, and he’d taken the first step that day.

“Dang, I was enjoying a woman’s cooking for a change.”

“Then I’ll give you the women’s names and you can call on them,” Wyatt admonished, taking a swig of his drink.

Gus rolled his eyes. “And end up hog tied to one of ’em? No, thanks. You’re used to a woman, and since Miss Beatrice has been gone a year, maybe you should consider one of these fine ladies who are cooking you casseroles.”

Wyatt set his glass down and considered his friend. Funny how a man who’d never married could give him advice on finding a woman. “The problem is that none of them interest me.”

“Dang, that’s a real shame. I was enjoying their cooking. Could you at least string them along for a little while, so we can continue to eat decent food?”Wyatt slammed his drink on the desk. “Now, what kind of man does that to a woman?”

Gus was a great foreman, a good man who didn’t know how to handle women. Never had been able to keep a woman interested in him longer than a courting moon. Maybe there was a reason he’d never married.”A hungry man?”

“Go to the damn café if you’re hungry. Don’t depend on widow women who are looking husbands, unless you want to get hitched,” Wyatt told him.

“No, thanks!” Gus held up his hand and shook his head. “You have to admit we haven’t had food like that since Mrs. Beatrice died.”

Beatrice had been an excellent cook. They’d eaten well, and her pies were known for bringing the men running in from the barn. But she was gone. “Well, it’s over. I put a stop to the widow women’s cooking.”

Gus sank into a chair across from him and laughed. “Why did all these women think you were on the hunt for a wife?”

“From what I was told, they were sent here by Eugenia Burnett.” He couldn’t help but think about Eugenia. Her dark hair was more silver than black, and her blue eyes sparkled with heat and laughter. For being almost fifty, her figure was still neat and trim in a shorter spitfire version.

“Mrs. Beatrice’s friend?”

“The one.” The woman was a small ball of dynamite that no one wanted to cross.

Gus stammered in shock. “Wweell why would she be trying to set up her friend’s husband?”Wyatt shrugged and contemplated the fire. “You know we often had Eugenia and Thomas out for dinner.”

Eugenia and he shared something that they had never acknowledged while they were both married. At a dinner, they’d accidentally touched, and Wyatt’s body had tingled and hummed with something he’d never experienced before. While he was married to Beatrice, he’d avoided his wife’s best friend.

“Yes, those two women could talk the feathers off a chicken.”

Wyatt took a sip of his whiskey, letting it warm him all the way to his toes, just like a fine woman could heat up a man. And that’s what he missed. He missed having a woman. Her soft touches, tender smiles, and gentle reminders. It was the little things that he took for granted.

He missed having a strong-willed woman who would stand up to him and challenge him to become a better man.

After spending the day around men, he missed coming home to a woman’s voice, her smell, the way she eased his burdens.

“You haven’t answered my question. Why is Eugenia trying to find you a wife?”

“Maybe because when our mates were alive, there was always this mindfulness between us. Nothing ever happened of course, but we felt drawn to one another.”

Nothing ever happened, but now that Beatrice had been gone a year, he wanted to set fire to that ember in Eugenia. There was something there that he wanted to create a blazing inferno with. Even thinking about her made his gut tighten and blood rush to his groin.

Gus’s brows rose as he looked at Wyatt over his drink. “Are you crazy? That woman is known for her meddling. They call her the meddling matchmaker. Why in the hell Eugenia? Why not some sensible woman?”

Wyatt leaned toward Gus. “Oh, Eugenia’s sensible all right. She’s strong willed and wouldn’t cower every time I raised my voice to her like most women. Give me a woman who knows what she wants and goes after her desires rather than one who lays around with the damn vapors all day.”

“Beatrice—”

“Beatrice was great until she got sick. Then all I could do was sit by and watch her waste away. Both of us died a little bit every day. Her body and my heart. But she’s gone.”

Three years of being ill and then she’d gone like a thief in the night, quiet and quick, leaving behind her grief-stricken family. Now over twelve months had passed, and he was ready to move on.

“God rest her soul.” Gus raised his glass in the air to Beatrice and then put it to his lips and gulped. “Still, you and Eugenia Burnett. I’m so damn shocked I can’t feel my face anymore.”

“You can’t feel your face because of the whiskey.”

“That too. But Eugenia? Slap me upside the head. You’ve got your spurs tangled up. Is she interested in you?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Who knows? I told her she was the only woman I wanted to get a casserole from.”

“She hasn’t brought one yet,” Gus said.

Oh, Eugenia Burnett would not be that easy. No, courting Eugenia would be tricky and so much fun.

“She’s not going to, either. It’s going to take a little more persuasion on my part before she’ll come around. Eugenia’s not some young filly ready to be bred. Nope, she’s going to require some top-notch wooing.”

Gus laughed. “The idea of you chasing a woman at your age is pretty funny.”

“That better be the whiskey talking. I’m still young enough to want a woman in my bed. I’m still young enough that I don’t want some wimpy woman who is just going to lie there and endure. Eugenia will make a great wife. She’ll make life interesting again.”

“Lord, boss, if she’s what you want, I hope you’re right. If not, you’re going to spend the rest of your days living in marriage hell.”

“Or it could be damn near heaven.”

Chapter Two

E
ugenia watched as her children and grandchildren scurried about the living area of the ranch house. Her grandchildren playing tag around the Sheraton sofa and the rocking chair. The main room was filled with her sons and their families for the second week in a row. Normally everyone was so busy that they decided the first Sunday of the month was family day, and they all gathered on that day. But it was Saturday. There were no birthdays, and the holidays were still weeks away. Her motherly instincts were on full alert, and her female intuition kept screaming
something’
s
up
. Her children were being very tight-lipped.

“Rose,” Eugenia called. “Can I speak to you?”

“Sorry, Eugenia. It’s going to have to wait,” she said and hurried into the kitchen to help Cook with the meal. She flittered about as nervous as a June bug searching for light on a moonless night.

Rose could evade her questions, but Beth had just walked into the parlor and she couldn’t lie.

Eugenia walked up to Beth. “Why is everyone here? What’s going on?”

Beth’s emotions were so easy to read. She licked her lips and glanced back at her husband as if seeking his support. “Nothing. We’re just waiting for our guest to arrive.”

“Guest? No one said anything about a guest. I wondered why everyone had gathered for dinner. Who’s coming over?” Eugenia asked, stunned they hadn’t said a word about the visitor.

Beth’s face blanched and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Eugenia. I think I hear the baby crying. I need to go check on Seth.”

Eugenia watched as Beth scurried away faster than a mouse with a cat on its tail. Her children were definitely hiding something.

She walked over to Travis, determined to learn who her children had invited to dinner. “This is quite unusual for all of us to get together for dinner two weeks in a row.”

Travis smiled. “We all thought it would be good to get together.”

So they were trying to keep the guest’s identity a secret. She narrowed her gaze at her oldest son and raised her brows at him as if he were five. “I’m your mother. Who is coming to dinner?”

Travis grinned that same smile he’d used as a boy when he thought he’d pulled a fast one. “The girls invited Wyatt Jones to dinner tonight.”

Her heart leaped and began an erratic beat in her throat.

“What?” She put her hands on her hips. “For God’s sake, why?”

“Because the girls invited Wyatt,” Travis said as if she was a simpleton who didn’t understand. A knock sounded on the door. “In fact, I think that’s him now.”

With startling clarity, she suddenly realized her family had heard about the incident at the café, and now they were trying to help Wyatt in his quest to lure her into marriage. Lure her into another man controlling her every move.

There wasn’t enough gold in California for her to take the bait.

Travis threw open the door. “Wyatt, glad you could make it. Come on in.”

Wyatt strode through into the parlor, his large body seeming to fill up the space of the living area. Their gazes met across the room, and he removed his hat. His dark hair was sprinkled with silver in a nice way that complemented his high cheekbones and full lips. For a man in his forties, he still had a trim, strong frame that was both tempting and well defined.

Gosh darn it, why did her body have a second awakening when he came into the room? Why did her heart pound a little faster and her blood rush like a freight train through her veins? She refused to acknowledge that a glance from Wyatt’s earthy brown eyes had her body humming with an awareness that she’d long forgotten.