The Christmas Bargain (28 page)

“Nothing in mine, Filly,” Greg said, accepting a cup of the rich brew.

“I’d like both, please,” Dora said. Luke took her cup and added sugar and cream, remembering how his mother liked her drink prepared - a touch of coffee, smothered by plenty of cream and a heaping spoon of sugar.

Luke accepted the cup Filly held out to him, laced with plenty of sugar, and watched her prepare a cup heavy with cream for herself.

The conversation continued mostly with the men catching up on the news of the area, while the women sat quietly listening. After an hour passed, Filly excused herself and prepared a tray with the dessert.

Carrying it into the parlor, she set it alongside the coffee tray and watched Mrs. Granger’s eyes widen with interest.

“Would you like some Boston cream pie?” Filly offered, turning her gaze to Luke’s mother. “Luke said it’s one of your favorite desserts, Mrs. Granger.”

“Yes, it is, but I think I am far too full from that heavy dinner to eat another bite,” Dora said, turning her head from the tray to again study the fire.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Filly said, cutting generous slices for Luke and his father, and a smaller piece for herself.

“This is delicious, Filly,” Greg said, devouring his piece, then accepting a second helping. “As good as any I’ve ever eaten. Did you make this yourself?”

“Yes, I did,” Filly said, pleased that dessert had turned out so well.

“Dora, perhaps Filly will share her recipe so you can have Cook try it,” Greg said, looking at his wife. “The one she makes is dreadfully dry and the filling often tastes like sweetened paste.”

Luke, who was taking a sip of coffee, nearly spewed it out his nose at his father’s comment. Filly hid her broad smile behind her napkin, but her eyes bespoke her merriment.

“There’s no need to be crass, Greg,” Dora sniffed. “Cook’s desserts are the envy of many of our friends.”

“That’s because they haven’t had her Boston cream pie, or pudding, or any of the sawdust-like cakes she creates,” Greg said, mirth erupting from his features.

“Well, I never,” Dora huffed, glaring at her husband.

“But you should,” Greg said, holding out a bite of the dessert on his fork. “It’s quite delicious.”

“You insufferable man,” Dora said, getting up from her chair, cutting a slice of the dessert and plopping it on a plate. Sitting back down, she took a bite, ready to tell her husband it was no different from their cook’s recipe when the blended flavors filled her mouth with pleasure.

Swallowing the bite, she forked up another. “This is quite good,” she said, proceeding to quickly eat her piece and helping herself to another small slice.

Luke gave Filly a knowing look that made her cheeks flush.

As his mother yawned behind her hand and his father’s eyes grew drowsy, Luke finally suggested they might like to retire after their long day of travel.

“I should say so,” his mother complained as he walked them down the hall. “It is such a pity the train didn’t come through here instead of Heppner. It would have made traveling here much more pleasurable than being tossed from hither to yon on that overcrowded stage. They really should not sell so many passenger tickets.”

“Yes, mother,” Luke said, kissing her cheek at the bedroom door. Turning to his father, he shook his hand warmly and bade them both good night.

Walking into the kitchen, he found Filly swathed in her big apron, already at work on the dishes. He retrieved the coffee tray from the parlor since she had already carried in the dessert tray, then helped dry and put the dishes away.

“That went much better than I was expecting,” Filly whispered as they finished up the dishes and she wiped down the counter.

“That’s because you were so charming and lovely,” Luke said with a grin.

Filly giggled and swatted his arm. “You’ve called me lovely nineteen times this evening. Aren’t you afraid your mother will think you are up to something?”

“Not at all,” Luke said, taking her hand as they turned out the lights and made the house ready for the night. “The only thing she’ll think is that I am quite smitten with my wife.”

“Are you?” Filly asked in jest as they climbed the stairs up to the master bedroom.

“Quite possibly. I might even be completely enamored,” Luke said and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I may even, at this very moment, be entertaining the most wicked thoughts about taking any number of liberties with her.”

Filly laughed, assuming he was teasing. While his words were light-hearted, he meant each one.

Going into the master bedroom, Luke closed the door behind him and Filly felt tension settle on her shoulders. It was going to be a challenge to sleep in the same room with Luke, especially when her longing for him already filled her dreams.

Expecting the room to be cold, she took in the warmth. When Luke had found time to cart wood up the stairs and build a fire, she didn’t know. He had also opened the radiator to let in heat to the bedroom, bathroom and closet. She appreciated his efforts to make her comfortable.

While Luke poked at the fire, Filly went into the bathroom and readied for bed. Putting on her nightgown, she fastened her robe securely over the top before taking out her hairpins and brushing her hair thoroughly then braiding it. Taking a deep breath, she walked back out into the room, to find Luke asleep in the chair by the fire.

His hair looked like liquid gold in the firelight and in sleep, his face appeared so young and boyish it tugged at Filly’s heartstrings.

Leaning over him, she gently pushed against his arm and whispered his name. He didn’t stir. She gave him a stronger shake and bent closer to his ear, again whispering his name.

In a drowsy state between awake and asleep, Luke soaked in the warmth of the fire while waiting for Filly. They still needed to figure out sleeping arrangements because with the way he felt at the moment the situation could quickly escalate from challenging to out of control.

Dreaming of her, he imagined her soft hands touching his arm, and her sultry voice whispering his name. He could feel her breath warm on his face and felt the gentle brush of the end of her braid against his neck. It seemed so real.

Opening his eyes, her face was mere inches from his, glowing in the light of the fire as it set her hair aflame with deep red and gold highlights. Groaning, he sat up and wiped his eyes.

When he opened them again, she was standing by his chair, looking at him uncertainly.

Tonight was not the night to pursue his desire to make her his wife. Even though his hands itched to unwind her braid and bury themselves in the silken mass of her hair. Even if her lips called out for his kisses. Even when her billowing gown and robe did little to hide her womanly curves and made his temperature spike.

Getting to his feet, he staggered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. How would he ever make it through a night alone in this room with her? He felt like a naughty schoolboy who had snuck in somewhere he shouldn’t be with no immediate means of escape, not that he really wanted to be anywhere else.

Looking into the mirror, Luke ran a hand through his hair, sending it into a tousled state of dishevelment.

As an upstanding citizen of the town, a responsible man of nearly thirty, Luke felt like a nervous boy thinking about his bride. Legally married to the tempting woman in the other room, Luke realized he was more in love with her than he thought would ever be possible.

Despite his vow to never wed, to never fall in love, to never care so deeply about a woman, he’d do anything for Filly. If she asked him to jump off the barn roof, he’d climb up there and ask her which direction she wanted him to fall.

Only he knew, deep in his heart, Filly would never take advantage of his love or his loyalty. She’d never hurt him intentionally, would always try to protect his heart, and that’s part of why he loved her so deeply and completely.

This visit from his parents proved what Filly had already unknowingly taught him - not all women were like his mother.

While his father pampered, spoiled and indulged his mother to the point of her being impossible, Filly was a true partner to him. They talked about ideas, discussed possibilities, and enjoyed intelligent conversation.

Removing his clothes and donning his pajama bottom, Luke took one last look in the mirror, giving himself a lecture about staying away from his wife and trying to get some sleep. Dreading the long night ahead, Luke walked out of the bathroom to find Filly perched on one side of the bed.

Before he could go to the closet to retrieve extra blankets and pillows to make a pallet by the fire, Filly cleared her throat and flushed a bright shade of pink when she looked at him, noticing his bare torso. Her glance quickly fell to the hands knotted in her lap.

“Luke, I think…” she stopped and swallowed twice before she could go on. “This bed is big enough for six people to sleep in. If you stay on your side and I stay on mine, there wouldn’t be any reason for you to sleep on the floor and be uncomfortable all night.”

Surprised by her invitation to share the bed, he nodded his head in agreement, too exhausted to argue or worry about what would happen in the morning. He would do his best to stay on his side and keep his hands to himself.

Walking around to her side of the bed, he kissed her cheek and said, “You were perfectly lovely today,” which made her grin.

Turning off the lights, he walked back around the bed and climbed in the other side, which seemed miles away from Filly, where she curled on the edge of the mattress facing the door.

“I don’t think I snore, at least not too loudly. If I do just put a pillow over my head,” Luke said, lying on his back and wondering how he could possibly sleep with Filly’s rosy scent drifting around him.

“I will,” she whispered, then grew still and quiet.

Both of them were afraid to move as they waited, unsleeping and tense, for the other to make a move. It seemed like hours of torture later when Luke was contemplating rolling over and kissing his wife until they both were senseless that he heard Filly’s breathing even out and deepen as she fell asleep. He listened to her inhale and exhale, watching the flames of the fire die down to dark embers, finally drifting to sleep dreaming of his wife.

Chapter Sixteen

Filly awoke from a wonderfully restful sleep in the big, comfortable bed. Rolling onto her back, she pulled her arms from the covers and arched them over her head as she pointed her toes toward the end of the bed and stretched her long legs.

Releasing a contented sigh, she rolled over and looked into a pair of icy blue eyes.

Stifling a shriek, she blinked, realizing it was Luke. Suddenly, their current rooming situation came to the forefront of her mind and she yanked the covers up under her chin. Recalling the way Luke looked last night when he came out of the bathroom wearing only the bottom piece to his pajamas, Filly felt her stomach flutter. The firelight had turned his skin to bronze, his muscles to marble, and her thoughts to what it would be like to truly be his wife.

If she was brave enough, she could easily reach out and touch him this morning. She liked the way his hair pin-wheeled around his head, making him look so young and entirely too loveable.

His smile, though, when he caught her eye, was anything but boyish. Filly caught her breath when she noticed Luke’s bare chest protruding from the covers. It was all she could to do keep from running her hands over one of those magnificent muscles.

Luke watched emotions play across Filly’s face and tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile. Some vain part of him hoped his bride would notice his bare chest. The way her cheeks flushed and her eyes were locked on him, he was certain she was taking note.