Wild Western Women Boxed Set Page 19

  Amelia had written to her all about the Cold Springs Retreat, but her letters hadn’t done the place justice. It was more than just a hotel. It was an oasis in the wilderness. Someone with quite a bit of taste and money had designed the place. The lobby had high ceilings and electric lighting fixtures reminiscent of the great houses of London where she’d spent her childhood. The whole town was electrified, thanks to an anonymous benefactor who had built a power station just outside of town two years ago.

  The Retreat had a beauty salon that Eve was determined to make use of at some point and a ballroom that always seemed to be hosting some activity. Today it was a sale of Christmas greenery cut from local trees.

  As she crossed in front of the door she spotted a sprig of holly with a few berries that had fallen off its bough and sat forgotten by the ballroom door. She stooped to pick it up and tucked it into her hair. Amelia would most likely scold her for frivolity, but as far as Eve was concerned, frivolity was all that kept the darkness out.

  “What a perfect touch to a stunning picture.”

  Eve gasped and flushed at being caught. She turned—her hand pressed to her heart—to find Rev. Andrews approaching her. He wore a simple grey suit and a dashing smile. Her heart made a sudden dive into her stomach.

  “I couldn’t let a poor, orphaned sprig of holly flounder on its own,” she confessed, cheeks warm. Her whole body was warm at the sight of the man who had shown her such kindness.

  “In a hotel like this?” he answered. “How could it be alone?”

  He was so artless she couldn’t help but step closer to him. “It is a lovely hotel, isn’t it?” she said. “I consider myself a good judge of hotels, having been in so many of them.”

  “Have you?” he asked. “I’ve only been in two myself, this one and the old hotel on Main Street.”

  “Really?” Eve blinked. “Only two?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t been out of Cold Springs much. I was born and raised here.”

  “And you’re still here?” The concept was as foreign to her as the steppes of Asia.

  He smiled, lowering his head and glancing up with a boyishness that made her well-traveled heart beat faster. “With so many needs to see to here, I’m afraid I’m not much of an adventurer,” he confessed.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, part of me is envious.”

  “I doubt that.” He laughed.

  The sound reverberated through her, sending prickles of light and warmth across her skin. “Believe me, Rev. Andrews, being a rolling stone is not as glamorous as you would imagine.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t. And please call me Mark.”

  Mischief nipped at her gut. “Are you sure your God would approve of me dropping the honorific?” she teased, leaning toward him.

  He mirrored her gesture and swayed so close she caught the scent of fresh soap. “He’s a very understanding God.”

  A smile as bright as the sun spread across Eve’s face. She couldn’t quite get her heart to settle in her chest or her breath to come without getting caught in her throat. Amelia had written to her about many things, but she had never mentioned how charming Mark Andrews was.

  “I’ve just finished my breakfast, otherwise I would offer to sit and eat with you at the hotel restaurant,” he said when she failed to uphold the conversation.

  “Oh, I had no intention of eating breakfast this morning,” she lied with a wave of her hand. “I’m much too eager to learn what I can do to help your delightful Christmas pageant. Will you show me your church?”

  Her stomach was already grumbling in protest over skipping a meal, but the rest of her thought it was a marvelous idea when Mark said, “I’d be glad to.”

  He held out his arm and she slipped her hand into his elbow as if it were the most natural gesture in the world. They crossed the wide lobby together, a bellhop opening the door for them to step outside.

  The December sun was putting in a valiant effort to be cheery as they walked from the front of the hotel toward the church. There was a nip in the air that thrilled instead of chilled. All around, the buildings of Cold Springs wore their festive best. Eve hugged Mark’s arm at the beauty of it all. A passing man in a suit nodded good day to Mark, raising his eyebrows at Eve. Mark nodded to the man in return, and, if Eve wasn’t mistaken, puffed his chest just a little.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he said.

  “No?”

  “No. I had assumed you would want to go right out to Eric and Amelia’s place, spend some time with them.”

  The fluttering in Eve’s chest contorted to pain. “Oh, I bet they have heaps of things to do. I’d just be in their way. I understand that your lovely church is new.”

  Mark sent her a sideways look that gave her the distinct feeling of being caught fidgeting in church. “It was finished three months ago, just in time for a harvest prayer of thanks. And I don’t think your sister would feel you were in the way at all. You’re her family.”

  “Amelia has her life well in hand without me,” she replied as they stepped up to the large church door. “So you keep your church door closed when there are no angels singing?”

  His smile grew, as did the mischief in his eyes. He let go of her arm long enough to pull the church door open and to hold out an arm for her to enter.

  “The angels are always singing, Miss deLaurent. It’s how we choose to hear them that matters. Why, I’m certain you would hear the music of heaven in your little niece’s gurgles if you were out at Eric and Amelia’s ranch right now.”

  She told herself it was the shock of passing from a cold street into a warm church that made her woozy, and not the insistence of Mark’s conversation. “Please, call me Eve,” she said as if her chest wasn’t tight with anxiety.

  “Eve.” He repeated her name with a nod.

  “And I’m sure if I were holding her, Amelia’s baby would wail like a banshee.”

  She laughed to cover the ache. Mark smiled, but his eyes saw right through her. Everything about him cut straight to her core. The thought invigorated and unsettled her.

  “What lovely ceiling beams,” she exclaimed, glancing up so that she wouldn’t have to look at his all-knowing eyes. God was all-knowing, but she trembled to think that He could see into her heart too.

  “They were all made with local pine,” Mark said, joining her in looking up. “Well, as local as we could get. There are more trees closer to the mountains than right around Cold Springs. You should get a feel for the land once you ride out to Eric and Amelia’s ranch.”

  Prickles of anxiety raced along her skin.

  “Mark.” She turned to face him, swallowing as she struggled for the right words.

  Understanding shone in his eyes, and the words came to her far more easily than she would have expected.

  “I can’t face her. Not yet. I love Amelia, but seeing her yesterday drove home just how different out lives are now. There’s so much—with Eric and Darcy and the baby and….” Her words dried up. She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut.

  One deep breath later, she opened her eyes, squared her shoulders, and marched away from him, up the center aisle toward the chancel.

  “Is this where the pageant is to take place?” she asked, voice higher and thinner than she wanted it to be.

  “It is.” He followed her up the aisle, stopping by her side between the front rows of pews. Whatever he thought about her outburst was concealed by enthusiasm for the pageant. “The manger will be over there,” he pointed to the left side, near a simple wooden pulpit, then shifted to gesture to the right. “The angel choir starts out on that side. The angel Gabriel will make his appearance to Mary down in front of them, then they all cross to the manger.”

  “And where do the shepherds enter?” Relief washed through her as her theatrical senses took over.

  “Well, in the past they’ve entered from the side. This year I was thinking they could come out that door there,” Mark said, pointing to a doo
r off of the left-hand side of the chancel.

  “And what’s in there?”

  “My office, and beyond that, my apartment.”

  “Oh, but of course you live at the church.”

  “I do.” He nodded. “Although I don’t usually keep shepherds in my apartment. Sheep, maybe.”

  Eve laughed. It was the free, generous sound she couldn’t hide when something truly touched her. She pressed a hand to her mouth and worked to resume her indomitable character, but it was hopeless in the face of Mark’s matching laughter.

  A thought struck her. “Do you have real sheep for the pageant?”

  Mark laughed harder. “No, of course not.”

  “Why not?”

  He paused, mouth open.

  “Sheep, eh?” He blinked and turned to look at the chancel, rubbing the back of his neck. The light of her idea catching on in his mind sent a flutter of warmth through her.

  She caught hold of it and kept going. “Yes. Why not? Someone nearby must own sheep and be willing to loan them for a night.”

  She strode to the foot of the chancel and turned to look back down the aisle. Mark watched her expectantly.

  “Why have the shepherds enter from your office when you could have them parade up the aisle?” Ideas spun through her mind so fast they left her breathless. “You could have the angels sing from center stage, beckoning not just to the shepherds but to the entire audience, as if they were keeping watch by night as well. Once the shepherds have led their sheep forward to see the baby Jesus, you could have the angels circle around the back of the sanctuary and invite the audience to stand and walk to the front.”

  She crossed to the podium where Mark had said the manger would be, nudging it to see how solid it was.

  “This is movable. You could put it aside for the pageant and have the audience come to see the holy family themselves.”

  “We’ve never done that,” Mark said. He walked up the last of the aisle and onto the chancel, crossing to where Eve stood as though considering it. When he stood by her side he looked out over the empty pews. “They could come up the center aisle—”

  “—and walk back along the sides,” Eve finished his sentence.

  He turned to look at her. His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His eyes held hers as though they had known each other for ages. Not just known, understood. He was right, you could hear the angels singing even when the earth was silent.

  “What other ideas do you have?” he asked.

  “So many.” She sucked in a breath and took his hand. “What about having the angel Gabriel appear to Mary over here?” She pulled him across the front of the church to where sunlight streamed in through one of the windows. “If you built a platform of some sort, everyone could see them. It would give the stage a sense of being larger. You could have Gabriel appear from behind a screen.”

  “It wouldn’t be that hard to do.” He squeezed her hand. “I believe we could do it.”

  “I believe we could.” She squeezed his hand in return, never wanting to let go.

  They watched each other in silence. More ideas than pageant staging flooded to Eve’s mind. She saw them reflected in the spark in Mark’s eyes. He reached for her other hand, holding the two of hers between them as though he had discovered a great treasure. Shakespeare couldn’t have written a more beautiful moment, and yet, there was no art about it at all. Magic swirled through her, spinning tighter as he leaned closer to her, his lips soft, parting.

  “What in heaven’s name are you two doing?”

  The sharp voice of Sadie McGee interrupted them from the back of the church.

  Eve gasped and Mark let go of her hands.

  “Good morning, Sadie,” he said, walking away from Eve and heading to the back of the church. “It’s awfully early for you to be here.”

  “I came looking for her.” Sadie nodded to Eve.

  An uneasy tremor rippled through Eve’s chest. What could the woman possibly want with her?

  “For me?” She feigned cheer and glided her way in Mark’s wake to the back of the church.

  Mark paused to wait for her and they continued on together. Sadie McGee narrowed her eyes.

  “What is that thing in your hair?” She pointed to Eve’s head.

  Eve flushed and raised a hand to pat her hairstyle. Her fingers touched the sprig of holly.

  “I had nearly forgotten. I found a darling sprig of holly on the floor at the hotel and thought I might make use of it.”

  “It’s pretty,” Mark added with a smile that went miles to set Eve’s heart at ease.

  “You’re wearing trash in your hair?” Sadie shook her head.

  “It’s an accent piece,” Eve replied as evenly as she could. Her nerves hardened into indignation, as if the old woman in front of her was accusing her of being trash as well. She slipped firmly into character to keep from sassing Sadie back. “Did you say that you were looking for me?”

  “Yes.” Sadie planted her hands on her hips, giving Mark a look more suitable for scolding a disobedient child. “Amelia Quinlan is in town looking for you. I just came across her at the hotel.”

  A whole new set of prickles swirled through Eve’s gut. “How very sweet of Amelia to come looking for me so soon.”

  “It is sweet,” Mark jumped to echo her. “I think I could manage here if you’d like to go off and spend the day with your family. You’ve already given me so much to think about.” The sudden light in his eyes spoke of more than theatrical sets and staging.

  Eve didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “No, no, Mark. I believe you need me and my experience here with you.”

  A grin spread across his lips. “I may at that.”

  Sadie snorted. “I’ve never heard a woman freely admit her experience before. Unless she worked at the saloon, that is.”

  Again, the woman’s accusations hit Eve like cold water. The urge to rail against her, to shout that it wasn’t her fault, that her mother coerced her into it before she was old enough to stand up for herself, hovered just under the surface of her skin. It hadn’t been fair, none of it, and to be accused now….

  The church door opened as Eve’s lips parted to say her piece. Amelia stepped into the tension, little Darcy in her arms.

  “There you are,” she said, more exhaustion in her voice than pleasure. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Amelia!” It caused physical pain for Eve to pretend joy, to cross to her sister and hug her and the bulge of her belly. “You’ve come just in time. Let me tell you about all of the exciting alterations Mark and I have in store for the Christmas pageant.”

  “Alterations?” Sadie repeated.

  “Mark?” Amelia said.

  “Yes.” Eve kissed little Darcy’s head, gut twisting with longing and regret, then fled up the aisle.

  “Miss deLaurent has shared some marvelous ideas for ways to improve the pageant,” Mark said. He glanced from Sadie to Amelia, then up the aisle to where Eve was putting as much distance as she could between herself and the others.

  He would know what she was up to. The truth of it coiled around Eve’s chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Somehow Mark Andrews knew her.

  “Yes,” she pushed on, as bright as she could make herself. “I suggested that we have the darling angel choir fill the stage and sing out this way,” she took her place on the chancel facing the pews, “and the shepherds come up through the congregation.”

  “With sheep,” Mark added with a wink.

  He was so good to try to comfort her that Eve could feel the tears forming behind her eyes.

  “We’ve always had the shepherds come in from the side and sit around the manger,” Sadie said.

  “Yes we have, and it’s always worked well.” Mark nodded. “But this year we have a new church, so why not try something new?”

  “Hmph.” Sadie crossed her arms. “I’m not sure that trying something new is the best thing for you, Reverend.”

&nb
sp; Eve stepped off the chancel, fists forming, ready to give Mrs. Sadie McGee a piece of her mind.

  “I don’t see why you couldn’t try it Eve’s way,” Amelia came to her defense. “She always had the best ideas when we would stage shows for our family as children.”

  The surprise endorsement and rush of happy childhood memories—some of her only happy childhood memories—deflated Eve’s anger. She paused halfway down the aisle and let out a breath.

  “We did stage hours of entertainment for Mama and Papa’s guests,” she said, her voice as distant as her memories.

  “In spite of Mother’s objections,” Amelia remembered with a smile. “It was fun.”

  “It was.”

  The tears were back, threatening to ruin what should have been a sweet moment. The only way Eve could fight them was by posing as if on stage and brushing the past away with a laugh. “How silly we were then, how utterly ridiculous.”

  Amelia’s smile withered.

  “All the more reason to employ your ideas now.” Mark broke away from the back of the church and approached Eve with long, sure steps. “Give me some time to think about them. Why don’t you go have breakfast with your sister? You can’t fool me into thinking you’re not hungry.”

  She couldn’t fool him into thinking anything. She reached out and squeezed his arm as he met her in the aisle. He rested his hand over top of hers.

  “Go, be with your family.”

  “I don’t have a family anymore,” she confessed in a whisper. With Mark’s eyes boring into her, she couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d tried. “They’ve all betrayed me or left me.”

  His smile melted into a pained and curious frown. His hand tightened over hers.

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” She laughed, pulling away, face flushed with shame. “Silly of me. Forget I said a word of it.”

  She turned away from him and rushed down the aisle to where Amelia stood bouncing Darcy in her arms and Sadie scowled.

  “Have you eaten breakfast yet?” she asked Amelia.