The Christmas Bargain (10 page)

The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm for November. Wanting to take advantage of the nice weather, he quickly made plans for the afternoon and hoped Philamena would be agreeable to his ideas.

In the days since he wed Philamena, Luke had yet to find something she was disagreeable about. Polite, quiet, thoughtful and genteel, Luke knew her mother must have taught her well before she died.

Although he had initially expected their marriage to be only a way for her father to pay his debt, Luke found himself looking forward to spending time with his bride. She was intelligent and, much to his surprise, quite witty when she allowed herself to come out of her shell. At dinner the night before, she made a comment that nearly made him fall out of his chair in laughter.

Strolling home, Luke found himself whistling a tune he’d heard her humming when he came in to wash up for breakfast after feeding the livestock. Opening the front door, the smell of beef stew made his mouth water.

Hanging his Stetson hat in the hall, he removed his gloves and scarf, hung up his coat and proceeded to the kitchen. He found Philamena bent over the oven door, checking something inside. Luke leaned against the door frame, appreciating his fine view.

“Lunch smells good,” he finally said, stepping up to the sink.

Her startled gasp and the clank of the bread pan being dropped on the stove top gave away her surprise.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, picking up the pan and carrying it to a cutting board where she turned it out and buttered the top of the loaf while Luke washed his hands.

Luke shot her a devilish grin, took down two bowls and bread plates and set the table. He knew it made her uncomfortable to have him near and helping in the kitchen, which was one of the reasons he enjoyed it so.

He assumed the more time they spent together, the more acclimated she’d become to him and eventually quit being so nervous around him. Even in the short time they had been married, Luke could see real progress with his timid bride.

After a filling lunch, Luke watched as Philamena cleared the table. He poured himself a glass of milk and munched on oatmeal cookies.

“What did I see you carrying home this morning?” Luke asked as she rinsed off a plate.

“My quilt and things from the farm,” Philamena said, glad that she waved as she walked past the bank since Luke had obviously seen her go by. “I left them at the parsonage and went to get them this morning. I also wanted to check on Abby and see how she was feeling. I hope it was okay for me to do that.”

“Absolutely, Philamena,” Luke said, taking a long drink of the milk. “You can come and go as you please. I’m sure Abby appreciated the company.”

“She said she did. I was wondering if you’d mind if we invited them for Thanksgiving dinner, if they don’t have other plans.”

“Not at all. That’s a fine idea,” Luke said, helping himself to another cookie. “Speaking of fine ideas, I’ve got one for this afternoon. What would you say to going for a ride with me? I could show you the property boundaries and you could get some fresh air. I don’t know how many more nice days we’ll have before winter sets in.”

“That sounds lovely,” Philamena said, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter. “I’ll put dinner in the oven before we go.”

“Good,” Luke said, getting to his feet and putting his dirty glass in the sink. “I’m going to change my clothes. Just come down to the barn when you’re ready.”

Philamena nodded her head, trying to conceal her excitement at the prospect of going riding with Luke. Hurrying, she put a chicken with potatoes and carrots in the oven to bake, banked the fires and changed into her riding skirt, a soft blouse, and warm woolen coat with a thick scarf and gloves the same shade of holly green as her eyes.

The split skirt gave her such freedom as she moved, she felt like running to the barn but managed to keep her pace to a fast walk.

Stepping into the barn, she inhaled the scents of oiled leather, hay, manure and animals. She loved the smell and walked down the row of stalls, studying each animal. Drake was already saddled and standing patiently in his stall ready to go. In the next stall, Luke was cinching the saddle on a sorrel mare. Hearing the rustle of Philamena’s skirt, Luke looked up at her and grinned.

The sight of him in blue jeans, boots, a canvas coat with a wooly lining and his cowboy hat nearly did her in. His grin, deepening the dimple in his chin, along with the glow from his ice blue eyes, just about finished her off.

Unable to keep from grinning back at him, Philamena walked carefully up to the mare and let her take in her scent before placing a gentle hand on the horse’s nose and looking into her brown eyes.

“This is Sheeba,” Luke said, adjusting the length of the stirrups to fit Philamena’s long legs. “Dad bought her for my sister but she never liked to ride, so this poor girl hasn’t had that much opportunity for exercise. She’s as gentle as a lamb, so you don’t need to worry about her trying any tricks with you.”

“I’m not worried,” Philamena said, stroking the horse’s neck. “I can tell we are going to be friends, aren’t we girl?”

Luke led Sheeba out of the stall then whistled a short, piercing burst of sound. Drake walked out of his stall and followed along behind them. Philamena smiled as she watched the horse over her shoulder.

“My, you’ve got him trained well,” she said, a  sound of admiration filling her voice.

“He’s like an overgrown puppy,” Luke said, grinning at her. “He knows there’s a treat waiting for him if he behaves.”

Walking out into the afternoon sunshine, Luke closed the barn door then turned to assist Philamena into the saddle, only to find her already seated, reins in hand.

“I thought you said you only had some experience with horses,” he said, giving her a doubtful look. “Seems to me you know your way around horses pretty well.”

“Riding was the one thing I could do to escape the farm,” Philamena said as she and Luke walked the horses down a pathway along the edge of his fenced pasture. “When Pa was in town drinking or sleeping off the effects, I could ride and feel a little freedom.”

“I didn’t realize your Pa still had a horse,” Luke said, thinking Alford could have traded the horse, instead of his daughter, to pay part of his loan.

“He doesn’t,” Philamena said, looking over Luke’s herd of Herefords. “He lost it to someone at the Red Lantern more than a year ago.”

Feeling an overwhelming anger toward Alford Booth, Luke turned his attention from it to the woman riding next to him. Philamena lost her timid, wounded air on the back of the horse. She seemed to come alive as her bright eyes sparkled, her cheeks turned a rosy pink and an aura of excitement clung to her. A confidence he wouldn’t have thought her capable of possessing made her sit tall and proud in the saddle.

 Luke thought she looked utterly appealing in her dark brown split skirt with brown boots, a thick black wool coat and a scarf the same shade as her eyes wrapped around her neck. Rather than a loose bun on her head, she had braided her hair and it hung like a gleaming rope down her back.

When she turned to him and smiled, he found himself grinning like an idiot right back at her. “Want to race?” she asked, then urged Sheeba into a run.

Drake took off after Sheeba before Luke could formulate a response. He soon took the lead and they raced across the end of the pasture, right up to the tree line. Reining the horses down to a walk, they came to a small clearing with a stream. Dismounting, Luke gave the horses a short drink, then let them graze while he and Philamena walked along the bank.

“That was fun,” she said, her face glowing from both the crisp air and an inner joy.

“You ride very well,” Luke said, admiring her ability to handle a horse. He would never have guessed she would be an outdoorsy type of girl, but it appeared that she was. Wondering what other surprises he had yet to find out about his bride, he looked forward to discovering each one.

“Thank you,” she said, shooting him an appreciative grin. Finding a fallen log, Luke dusted off a place for Philamena to sit before easing down to the grass and leaning his back against the wood. Sitting in silence, they listened to the stream and the sounds of the birds in the trees.

“Luke?” Philamena finally asked, giving him a sideways glance.

“Yes?” he tried not to smile too broadly. His bride had a lively mind and her questions never failed to entertain or challenge him.

“How did you become such an outdoorsman? You ride and raise cattle. You aren’t anything like the image of a banker I have in my head.”

Luke chuckled and tipped back his hat. He plucked a blade of brown grass and chewed on it a moment. His mother would probably faint dead away if she could see him at this moment, but thankfully, she was on the other side of the country and he was old enough not to care what she thought.

“My family came from old money. My father’s grandfather had a bank and he passed it down to his son and so forth. When my mother met my father, she set her cap for him and there was no escaping on his part. Although my father grew up banking, he always longed for adventure, so when my sister and I were just tiny little tots, he packed up the family and moved us here to start a new bank. He bought the few acres on the edge of town, hoping to ease Mother into the thought of someday having a ranch as well as the bank, but my mother hated every day she spent here. My sister wasn’t much better. Dad finally gave up and returned to New York to make my mother happy.”

Luke leaned back and looked at the blue sky. “Me, I loved it here. The open spaces, the clean fresh air. I’ve always liked animals and being outside, so it just seemed natural to buy the land behind Granger House when it because available for purchase. I added the fence, bought some cattle, and enjoyed every minute of being a gentleman rancher. I much prefer to be outside than in the bank, but I feel obligated to keep the bank going even though I own it now. My dad worked hard to establish it and I plan to keep it running successfully as a way of honoring him. I know he would prefer to be living here running it himself, but he loves my mother more than he does the lure of the West.”

“How did you manage to take this afternoon off?” Philamena asked, trying to not to be obvious in her perusal of her handsome husband. Out here he looked so carefree and young, virile and strong.

“Harlan is a great assistant and I know any time I need to be out of the office, he can be counted on to take good care of the business. Sometimes the call of the wild is stronger than the call to balance books and count money,” Luke said with a wink.

Philamena studied Luke for a moment and soon found herself lost in his blue eyes. As he gazed back at her, they seemed to glow with an inner light that drew her in. Luke sat up and leaned toward her. She suddenly couldn’t swallow, her mouth as dry as sawdust.

Pulling her gaze away, she jumped to her feet. Brushing the back of her skirt, she scrambled for an excuse to leave. “We probably better head back. I need to finish dinner preparations.”

Luke lazily got to his feet, tossed aside the stem he’d been chewing and settled his hat firmly on his golden head.

“I suppose we should,” he said, looking toward the darkening sky. “It’s starting to get dark early. On days like this, with the sun shining so brightly, I forget winter is nearly here.”

Luke picked up Sheeba’s reins and handed them to Philamena before taking Drake’s. He turned to help her mount, but she was busy whispering in Sheeba’s ear. The horse actually looked like she was grinning, which made Luke smile.

“Do you need help mounting?” he asked, raising an eyebrow her direction as she rubbed Sheeba’s neck.

Looking over her shoulder at him, Philamena threw out a challenge. “Nope, but I’ll race you back to the house.”

“Let’s go,” Luke called as he mounted Drake. Philamena continued to stand next to Sheeba, then clicked her tongue at the horse, sending her into a fast trot. Holding onto the saddle horn, Philamena ran alongside Sheeba, gaining speed with the horse. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, once, twice, she deftly swung herself into the saddle.