Page 28 of A Redemption Mountain Christmas
“Well, if you’re sure, I’d love to spend Christmas here.”
“Wonderful!” Rachel and Ginny said in unison.
Warmth spread through Eliza as she continued her work on the doll’s dress. The three fell into silence as each concentratedon what they were doing until Ginny looked at Eliza, a question in her eyes.
“You must have gotten offers from hospitals all over after graduating from medical school,” Ginny said. “Why’d you decide to come out here?”
Eliza paused, considering how much of herself to reveal. “I needed a change. A chance to help people who really need me, not just those with money.”
Rachel nodded in understanding. “Well, folks around here sure are grateful you decided to stay, if only for the winter. The town has grown so much since I moved here. A third doctor would be a blessing for everyone.”
“Whatever you decide to do next, you’ll always have a place with us,” Ginny added.
Eliza looked away, forcing away the tears burning at the back of her eyes. She hadn’t expected such heartfelt acceptance.
“Thank you,” she said, a catch in her throat.
The women continued their work through lunch and into the afternoon. By four o’clock, Rachel became concerned, expecting the men to return by now.
Noise from outside drew their attention. The women hurried to the window, peering out to see the men reining up near the barn. Relief flooded through Eliza at the sight of them whole and unharmed.
Spencer slid down from his saddle, his boots hitting the packed snow. He patted Cicero’s neck before looping the reins around the hitching post. As he removed the saddlebags, Spencer felt someone watching him. He glanced up to see Eliza in the window with Rachel and Ginny, her gaze fixed on him for a brief moment before she turned away.
His heart gave an odd flutter. They hadn’t spoken since he’d rushed out of the ranch house the night before in an attempt to hide his growing feelings for her. He’d missed her quiet presenceafter he’d left her at the St. James a week earlier. No matter how prickly she could be, his days felt emptier without her.
Spencer shoved those feelings aside now, as he’d done last night. Whatever this was between them, it was foolish to pursue. Eliza deserved better than some rough ranch hand. She’d be moving on to California soon, and he doubted she’d ever return.
With a resigned sigh, Spencer headed for the bunkhouse. Inside, he sank down on his bunk, dropping his head in his hands. He should be focused on the rustlers. Instead, all he could think about was Eliza. Her midnight hair, her eyes flashing like sapphires when she was riled up, which was often.
Spencer groaned. He was acting like a lovestruck cowboy. Still, he couldn’t deny the emptiness settling inside him when he pictured Eliza leaving, the ranch returning to its monotonous routine.
For the first time in years, he’d allowed himself to consider there could be more to his life than working cattle. He’d begun to imagine a life with someone at his side. He had to be realistic. There was no use longing for things he could never have.
Spencer brooded, staring at the flickering lantern, its dim light piercing the darkness enveloping him. Much the same as the faltering hope in his heart. Hope that refused to be extinguished, despite all his efforts to smother it.
Spencer rose with a weary sigh, splashing some water on his face from the wash basin. He had to pull himself together. There were more pressing matters than his personal woes. They’d recovered the missing cattle, but the rustlers were still out there, waiting for another chance.
After eating a large helping of the stew and biscuits the women had delivered, he stepped outside, surveying the yard. All was quiet now, but the threat still lurked in the shadows. The rustlers were growing bolder, and he feared what they might try next.
As Spencer walked toward the barn to check on the horses, light from the living room of the ranch house caught his attention. Glancing toward it, he saw a silhouette pass by the large front windows. Eliza.
He started to turn away, to force himself to stop staring after her like a lovelorn fool. Something made him pause.
An uneasy prickle at the back of his neck, a sense of foreboding clawing at him.
Spencer narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness surrounding the house. His hand dropped to rest on the butt of his revolver as his senses strained for any sign of movement, any hint of danger.
He began to stride toward the house, then stilled. A wisp of air passed by his head.
Spencer whirled, gun leaping into his hand at the sight of at least a dozen Crow warriors.
Chapter Thirteen
Then Spencer looked again at the men on horseback before him, jolting at a new revelation. They weren’t Crow. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were from the Blackfoot village past the far northern border of the Pelletier property.
Spencer remained motionless, one hand on his six-shooter as he tracked the progress of the braves edging their horses toward him. They were still some distance off when one of the Blackfoot warriors drew back his bow and let an arrow fly. It whizzed past Spencer, the same as the previous arrow. His gaze never left the approaching warriors. Though his heart was pounding, his face remained impassive. He would not give these men the satisfaction of seeing any trace of fear.
As the Blackfoot drew nearer, the front door of the ranch house swung open and Bull Mason emerged, boots thudding heavily on the wooden steps. He strode forward to meet the old man seated atop a beautifully marked pinto horse at the head of the party.
