Enchanted Christmas Page 7

  “Tell you what, Mr. Partridge. I’ll give you that organ if you’ll repair my piano.”

  Noah jerked around and stared at her. She had an odd look in her eyes, as if she’d just issued him a challenge.

  “What the hell do I need an organ for?”

  Her smile was as brittle as Noah’s nerves. “As to that, I couldn’t say.”

  # # #

  Noah and Mac were away from Rio Hondo for a week. When they returned, Noah found himself in a quandary. After Mac’s first evasive trips to Grace Richardson’s property and Hugh Blackworth’s ranch, he’d led Noah to several parcels of land that would work for his purpose—and that were available to purchase or to homestead.

  Unfortunately, Noah discovered he didn’t want those other ones. He wanted Grace Richardson’s land. The other properties were all right. Her land was perfect. But, according to Mac, she didn’t want to sell it. Noah pondered and pondered, trying to think of some way to make her do it anyway, whether she wanted to or not.

  The only way he could think of to find out was to ask her. Maybe talk her into it if she balked at first. Noah didn’t want to spend that much time with anyone, much less Grace Richardson, whom he thought about too much to begin with. Lord, if he spent any time with her, he might get to wishing for things, and then where would he be? Hell, his life was bleak enough already. And he sure didn’t trust in his powers of persuasion. The few powers he’d once possessed were long since withered from lack of use.

  As hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t think of another way to get that land. Hell, this was a United States territory. No matter how much he wanted that land, it belonged to Grace Richardson. He couldn’t just squat on it and claim it as his own. Dammit. Civilization was a blasted nuisance sometimes.

  They’d been riding in silence for two or three hours and were only a mile or so away from Rio Hondo when Noah asked, “Do you suppose she’d reconsider if I asked her about it?”

  “Do I suppose who’d reconsider what if you asked her about it?”

  Mac’s eyes twinkled like blue stars, and Noah had a gut feeling he’d only asked his question for form’s sake; that he already knew exactly what Noah was talking about. Noah was getting used to it.

  “Do you suppose Mrs. Richardson would reconsider selling her property if I asked her? If I came up with a good, firm offer?”

  Mac considered the question for a moment. It looked to Noah as if he were studying Noah’s face and finding the occupation an amusing one. He tried not to fidget, although Mac’s scrutiny made him feel as if the old man could see through his flesh to his brain and read his thoughts.

  “I think it would be a fine idea for you to chat with Grace, m’lad. A fine idea.”

  “About the property,” Noah said, then felt foolish. He’d received the distinct impression that Mac hadn’t been talking about the property, but about something else entirely—as if he were talking about something Noah was incapable of.

  Hell, he didn’t want to have to talk to the woman at all. But there was something about that land of hers that appealed to a need way down deep inside of him. He wanted the land like he hadn’t wanted anything in years.

  “Aye. Of course. About the property.” Mac chuckled so hard he bounced in his saddle.

  Noah felt crabby.

  # # #

  “Look! Look! They’re back! They’re back!”

  Maddie bounded down from the kitchen chair upon which she’d been kneeling, and raced for the front door. Grace laughed out loud and shook her head. Then she finished peeling the potato she’d been working on and plopped it into the bowl of water standing on the table for the purpose. She didn’t want the potatoes to get brown, because she had plans for them.

  She wiped her hands on her apron as she followed her daughter out onto the porch. Maddie practically vibrated with excitement. To keep her from caroming down from the porch and spooking the horses—although those two horses looked as if they were far too tired to spook—Grace put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

  “They were gone for so long, Mommy! I wonder if Mr. Noah found some prop’ty.”

  “I expect you’ll just have to ask him, Maddie.”

  Maddie nodded. Grace looked down at her shiny hair and wondered if Maddie sensed the same reserve in Mr. Partridge that Grace did. She doubted it. Children seemed to have the ability to see past people’s exterior barriers. She wished her own heart would stop battering at her ribs with excitement, particularly when her excitement stemmed from seeing Noah Partridge again. This was no way for a grown woman—a grown widowed woman, who still loved her late husband—to feel.

  They watched quietly until the men dismounted at the hitching rail and began to tend to their horses. Mac, of course, waved at them and called out a merry greeting. Noah Partridge did not.

  “C’n I go say hi to Mac, Mommy?” Maddie squirmed, trying to get away from her mother’s grip on her shoulders.

  Before releasing her, Grace warned, “Be careful of the horses’ hooves, Maddie. You remember what Mac told you.”

  “I remember.”

  So Grace let her go, wishing she could run over there with her. She could tell Maddie had taken Mac’s warning to heart because she gave a wide berth to the backs of the horses, then ran the rest of the way into Mac’s arms. The old man swung her up and twirled her around, and Maddie squealed with delight. Grace’s heart melted like butter in the summertime.

  She closed the distance between the porch and the two men with more dignity than her daughter, but with every bit as much eagerness. No matter what she tried to pretend to herself, Noah Partridge fascinated her, and she couldn’t wait to hear the results of his expedition. She rather fancied having him in the neighborhood. If the several hundreds of miles surrounding the dot of Rio Hondo could be considered a neighborhood.

  She shared a warm smile between the two men. Mac returned her smile with one equally warm. Noah Partridge seemed to stare right through her. Then he nodded sharply once, and turned back to his horse.

  Grace suppressed a sigh. She was willing to grant him a lot of slack on the grounds that he’d probably been a soldier in a dreadful war and had seen horrors she couldn’t even imagine, but she did wish he’d say something so she’d know how to act around him. Ah, well. At least she had Mac. She gave him a big kiss on the cheek, and refused to admit to herself that she wished she could kiss Mr. Partridge, too.

  “We’ve been everywhere you can imagine, Grace, m’lass. From Rio Hondo to Fort Sumner and all the way up to Capitan.”

  “My goodness! You covered a lot of ground.”

  “Aye, that we did. And we saw us about a hundred places where a man could build himself a nice, tidy ranch.”

  Grace decided to speak to Noah Partridge. Since she didn’t know what was wrong with him, she reckoned she should probably just treat him the same way she’d treat anyone else. As she was a friendly woman with a lively curiosity and an interest in her fellow man, she asked him outright. “Did you find a piece of land that appealed to you particularly, Mr. Partridge?”

  He glanced at her without lifting his head. She got the impression he wished she hadn’t asked. Well, that was too bad. She couldn’t be anything but herself. She hugged herself because the impulse to put her arms around him was so intense it shocked her.

  “Yes, ma’am, I did,” he said after a long couple of moments.

  “That’s nice. I’m glad for you.” And she was, too. She hoped that getting settled would make him happy. Or at least happier. She squeezed her middle more tightly. Good Lord, these urges were most unseemly!

  After another moment of silence, he said, “Thanks.” His glance slid back to his horse.

  So much for that. Grace sighed, dropped her arms to her sides, and turned to Mac again. “Maddie and I will go get a couple of apples, Mac. I expect your horses could use a treat.”

  “Aye, I expect they could. Thank’ee, lass. That’d be right nice o’ ye.”

  So Grace went back to
the house, Maddie skipping cheerfully at her side. They returned a few minutes later, bearing two quartered apples. Maddie ran up to Mac again.

  “Can I feed the horses, Mac? Please?”

  “Why, I expect you can, lass, if your mama says it’s all right.”

  “We’d better ask Mr. Partridge if he minds, Maddie.”

  Maddie walked right up to Noah Partridge and tugged at his duster. She was a lot braver than her mother, Grace thought with gentle irony. Grace would be afraid to touch that man without asking permission first. Which was probably a good thing, given the outrageousness of her impulses whilst in his presence.

  “Mr. Noah, can I give your horse an apple? I promise to do it right.”

  Noah turned his head and looked down at the little girl. He might have peered upon a creature from another planet in that same puzzled way, Grace thought. At first his expression amused her, then it made her sad.

  He cleared his throat. “Sure.”

  Maddie lit up like fireworks. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Noah!”

  He might have granted her three wishes like a fairy tale genie, to judge by the elation in her voice. Grace smiled at her daughter, loving her for her bright disposition. Frank had been happy like that. Nothing ever got him down for long. It was one of the reasons Grace had loved him so much and missed him so terribly.

  “Remember how I told you to hold food for the horses so they won’t bite your fingers, Maddie, lass.” Mac stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.

  As careful as careful could be, Maddie held out an apple quarter to the flea-bit gray. It nuzzled the quarter up from her open palm, and she giggled. Then she turned and held out another quarter to Fargo, who nuzzled it up in the same way.

  “He’s such a pretty horse, Mr. Noah. I like him.”

  Noah cleared his throat again. Grace got the impression he was unused to conversing with children—or anyone else—and she pitied him. She wanted to run her fingers lightly over his troubled face, to smooth the furrows of worry and strain away. She sighed again.

  “Yeah. He’s a good horse, all right.”

  “Can I pet his nose?” Maddie looked up at Noah as if he held the answer to the most important question in her life. Which it might well be at the moment. For a second, Grace allowed herself to envy children their uncomplicated view of the world.

  “Er, yeah. Sure. Go ahead.” Noah made a gesture of permission. It seemed awkward. He wasn’t used to children; Grace could tell. She wrapped her arms across her middle again, wishing these dratted hankerings would go away and leave her alone.

  Maddie stood on her tiptoes so she could reach, and gently ran her hand down Fargo’s velvety muzzle. The horse seemed to like the attention. He gently prodded her cheek, and Maddie’s smile might have lit up the darkest night’s sky. It certainly lit up her mother’s insides.

  “He kissed me, Mommy. Did you see him kiss me?”

  “I sure did, sweetheart.”

  “What a nice horse.”

  “Yeah,” said Noah. “He’s pretty friendly.” His voice sounded strained.

  Maddie gave Fargo a second apple quarter and then, in the interest of fairness, offered another one Samuel, who gobbled it down.

  This was the sort of scene Grace had always expected to share with Frank. She shouldn’t be out here laughing and feeling tender about her daughter with an old man and a taciturn stranger. She should be doing this with Frank, the only man on earth who could appreciate it the way she could. Grief welled up inside her. As had become her custom, she didn’t let it show, although her arms did tighten over her ribcage, and she has a sudden sharp wish that Noah Partridge would hug her. As if!

  “I’m fixing a good potato-and-onion soup for supper, Mac. It shouldn’t take too long to cook it up, if you and Mr. Partridge are hungry.” As soon as she’d said it, she remembered that Mr. Partridge hadn’t seemed inclined to partake of meals with them. She glanced at him quickly. “That is, if you’d like some too, Mr. Partridge. It will be a simple supper. Just potato soup and cheese and bread.” She was proud of herself for keeping the strong yearning she felt out of her voice.

  Noah seemed to be engrossed in watching Maddie feed apples to the horses. Grace wondered what he was thinking. As usual, his face was as unreadable as a mask. When he looked from Maddie to her, she realized his eyes weren’t unreadable at all. In fact, she’d never seen such raw pain in a human being’s eyes. She took a step toward him, startled, then recovered her composure. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  If he had, he gave no indication of it. After staring at her—blindly, it seemed to her—for a moment, he gave a tiny, abrupt nod. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  Chapter Five

  For all Noah’s reluctance to cultivate it, conversation blossomed around the supper table like spring flowers after a rain. He watched Mac and Grace closely without seeming to. And Maddie. He watched her, too. After he’d been eating and watching in silence for several minutes, he realized he was studying them, trying to figure out how the dynamics of a family worked. He used to know a long time ago, but he’d forgotten.

  When a gap opened up in the happy chatter, a fierce urge to belong to this little made-up family group seized him. He couldn’t account for it any more than he could resist it. In spite of suspecting he was about to make an ass of himself again, he joined in.

  “This is very good, ma’am,” he said to Grace, indicating his potato soup. It was a bold step for him. No one else seemed to recognize the drama of the moment.

  Her smile was as warm as a summer breeze. It wafted Noah back to the soft summers of his boyhood, when he used to laze in the tall grass with his dog Flip, a fishing line tied to his big toe, and dramatic tales of derring-do building in his head. He and Flip would talk to each other for hours, Noah spinning yarns, Flip yawning. Sometimes Noah’s best friend Pete would join them, and then Noah would talk to Pete. Sometimes, they’d even catch a fish.

  Grace’s voice jerked him back to the present.

  “Thank you, Mr. Partridge. I’m partial to potato-and-onion soup myself, even if it isn’t a very elegant meal.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn’t think of a thing, yet Mrs. Richardson was smiling at him as if she expected him to add something to the conversation. Damn, he wished somebody would say something and take the burden off of his shoulders. They weren’t broad enough for this. Suddenly he thought of something else he could say.

  “My mother used to put cheese in her potato soup sometimes.” He glanced around the table to gauge reactions. Was that a stupid thing to have said? Was it appropriate? Noah wished he’d stayed away from the supper table and these people this evening. He wasn’t ready for this.

  “Look, Mr. Noah,” Maddie said suddenly. “I can put cheese in my ‘tato soup, too.” She dropped a piece of her cheese into the soup and fairly glowed across the table at him.

  Noah wondered if the little kid was making fun of him, then realized with a shock that she was trying to please him. As if his opinion mattered to her. He licked his lips nervously and scrambled for something to say to her.

  “How does it taste?”

  She dipped her spoon into her soup bowl—she did it the right way, he noticed, and aimed the edge of the spoon toward the far rim of her bowl—and took a bite. She cocked her head to one side while she chewed as if seriously contemplating the merit of cheese in potato soup. Noah discovered himself almost smiling. She was a nice little kid.

  “I like it,” she announced at last.

  “Well, then, I’ll just have to grate some cheese into my soup the next time I make it.”

  Damn. Had he offended Mrs. Richardson? Noah looked at her, but she didn’t seem at all put out. She looked happy as a lark, in fact. He contemplated telling her that her soup was good without cheese in it but didn’t want to muddy the waters any more than he already had. He was grateful when Mac spoke next, because he wasn’t up to it.

  “When I was a lad in Scotland, we used a
lot of leeks in soup.”

  “Leaks?” Maddie laughed at the absurdity of such a thing. “How could you eat it if it leaked?”

  Even Noah nearly laughed. He was glad he didn’t when he realized the adults’ laughter had hurt Maddie’s feelings.

  Out of nowhere, he found himself saying, “I think leeks are like onions, Maddie. They’re spelled differently than the way water leaks.”

  She cast him a grateful glance. “Oh.”

  “Aye, lass,” Mac said. He, too, gave Noah an approving glance. Noah was embarrassed. “We had plenty of leeks, but we didn’t have potatoes.”

  “Really?” Grace seemed surprised.

  Maddie’s eyes grew wide. “No ‘tatoes? What did you eat?”

  It tickled Noah that Maddie looked as though she felt sorry for the poor deprived child Mac used to be. If he judged correctly, potatoes were one of Maddie’s favorite foods. He wasn’t surprised. He’d loved them when he was a kid too.

  He remembered that his mother had served riced potatoes once for supper. Soon afterwards she’d served something that looked the same, and he’d been bitterly disappointed to discover those small rice-shaped kernels were—rice. The rice had seemed so dull and flavorless compared to the potatoes.

  In fact, when he thought about it, he guessed he still did love potatoes. He tested the admission and was surprised to find it true. He hadn’t considered himself in terms of loving anything at all in recent years, much less an item of food. The discovery tickled him too.

  A minute passed, full of Mac’s descriptions of the comestibles available in the Scotland of his childhood, before Noah realized he hadn’t felt this humorous tickle in his innards for eight years. He was so shocked, he couldn’t speak for another five minutes or more. No one seemed to consider his silence unusual. Well, why should they? Silence had become a way of life with him. It would probably shock them more if he suddenly began to chatter.