A Baby For Christmas

He shifted his gaze from the blankets to Louise. She chewed on her bottom lip. “You still worried about Vic? Don’t be.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll stop worrying when we reach the ranch. Maybe.”

He wouldn’t mention his conversation with Vic earlier, nor the man’s insistence about wanting Missy. She’d be safe at Eden Valley Ranch. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had come after a woman there and ended up facing more than he figured on. The whole crew would protect Missy and Louise. He’d not say that now, though. It would only give Louise reason to think she couldn’t outrun Vic.

“We’ll be on our way tomorrow.” And he’d be keeping a sharp eye out for any trouble Vic might present.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I am. I couldn’t eat after the wedding.”

“Me neither. Do you suppose that piece of cake is still there?”

She smiled. “You mean the one that indicated we would have a long marriage?”

It was good to see her relax, and he chuckled. “And many children.”

She laughed softly.

“Where’re Aunt Bea and Missy?”

“They thought we might like some privacy, so they went to bed early.” She dipped her head, then lifted her eyes. “Seems we’re the only ones who remember this.” She patted her rounded stomach. While he tried to think of an answer, she said, “I’m going to find that cake. Come on.” He followed her into the kitchen.

A piece of cake and a handful of little sandwiches were on a plate under a glass dome. She poured a glass of milk for each of them and placed the plate of food on the table.

They sat kitty-corner from each other, eating the cheese sandwiches. When they were gone, she cut the cake and they each had a piece.

She grinned at him. “Aunt Bea was really into the wedding stuff. Do you know she has my grandmother’s wedding dress in a trunk in her bedroom? I think she’s still hoping to wear it.”

“Your aunt Bea? That’s a surprise.”

“I know. But she and Pastor Manly seem to have an interest in each other.” She sobered. “I don’t suppose I’ll get to see her in a wedding dress.”

Nate hadn’t thought about all she was losing in her flight north. The home she’d known for seven years, her friends, all the memories she’d made in this place. But she had no choice. “I guess you’ll take your memories with you.”

“And my baby.”

“And Missy.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” She pushed from the table, gathered the dishes, carried them to the basin and poured hot water over them.

He saw she was about to wash them. Saw weariness in the way she moved. He sprang to his feet. “You sit and I’ll take care of the dishes.”

She opened her mouth to refuse, but he took her by the shoulders and guided her back to the table and eased her down into the chair. She let out a sigh of relief.

As he washed the few dishes and dried them, he talked to her. “We have to be at the depot at seven-thirty tomorrow morning.”

“Not a problem. We’ll be ready to go.”

He dried the last dish and hung the towel on the rack by the stove. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

Her eyebrows came up. “You mean, besides marry me?”

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Do you need me to bring a trunk from the attic or...” He had no idea what she might need.

“I’m packed and ready to go.” She patted his arm. “Missy and I have been on our own for a while Nate. We won’t be a nuisance. I promise.” She rested her hand on the top of her tummy bulge. “All we need is the protection of marriage so Vic can’t convince strangers I’m a runaway wife.”

“Vic won’t bother you again. I promise.” He hoped his words were not another pretend vow.

Chapter Four (#ulink_91c5f141-2255-500d-aade-3d86bb46ec58)

Louise was awake long before it was time to rise. The baby kicked as if excited about the journey. Just stay where you are for a few more days.

She lifted her head from her pillow. Did she hear a tapping at the door? A chill wove around her spine. Not Vic! She’d locked the doors solidly. But she knew that wouldn’t prove enough barrier to stop the man.

“Louise, are you awake?” Nate whispered from the other side of the bedroom door. He’d spent the night in the parlor, which should have made her sleep a lot better than it did.

Her lungs emptied in a whoosh and she rose gingerly from bed, donned a wrap and cracked the door open. “Yes?”

“I’m going to get a wagon. Lock the door after me.”

She waited until he went outside to move down the hall as fast as she could and turn the key.

Missy had begged to sleep in the room with Louise last night, saying she was afraid to be alone, afraid Vic would find her. She sat up as Louise returned to the bedroom. “Today we start our great adventures.” She lifted her hands over her head and laughed. With an ease Louise could barely remember, Missy scurried from bed and began to dress.

“Remember to wear your warmest clothes.” Although the weather had been mild, it was December and the temperatures could drop anytime.

Missy chattered as they dressed. “I’ve always wanted to see what was north of here. But more than anything, I want to get away from that vile Vic.”

“You’re about to get your wish.” Louise put the last of her things in her valise. She wouldn’t need much for the journey. Everything else was in a small trunk—baby things, some outfits for after she’d had the baby and a few mementos of her mother.

She paused a moment to let regrets at what she was about to leave waft through her, combined with wishes for what might have been if her mother had stayed.

Aunt Bea had told her the truth about Louise’s mother. Not that she died and that was why Louise and her pa were on their own, as Pa always said, but that she’d left Pa because she couldn’t stand the mining camps. Aunt Bea said she thought Ma had tried to take Louise, but Pa wouldn’t allow it. Louise thought Aunt Bea only wanted to remove the look of shock from Louise’s face. Ma had died of consumption three years after leaving them.

Louise reached into the trunk for an item.

“I have something of your mother’s,” Aunt Bea had once said, and brought out a painting of a young child. The painting she now held in her hands.

“Is that me?” Louise had fingered the frame.

Her aunt had nodded. “Your mother was a talented artist. The picture is now yours.”

“Thank you.” The painting had been her most cherished possession ever since. In it she was sure she saw love. But love had not been enough to make her mother stay. Because of that thought she’d never display the picture. For a moment she mused on a thought. What was enough to make any person stay? If not love, then what?

She’d considered the question many times and had never found an answer. Nor did she expect to today, either. She put the picture into the trunk, closed the latches, then went to the kitchen.

They ate a hurried breakfast. Aunt Bea insisted they take an abundant lunch for the journey, most of which was the remainders of meals Louise had prepared in the past two days.

A wagon rattled up to the house and Nate knocked.