A Baby For Christmas. Linda Ford

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A Baby For Christmas - Linda  Ford

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here,” he said. “While I take care of the wagon.” He rushed out. Seemed he was as impatient to start this journey as Missy, who wriggled on the bench beside her. Louise tried to decide what she felt. Certainly not the excitement Missy showed. Truth was, she was worried. Not so much about Vic anymore, though she’d never quite believe he was out of her life. But the baby had been more active lately. Please, God, don’t let it be born before we reach Eden Valley Ranch. Let it be a Christmas baby. But would God even hear her? Or listen if He did? So many times in the past she had felt abandoned by God, though she did her best to believe He loved her, as the Porters had so fervently taught her.

      If the baby came on the trip, it would slow them down, and Nate had made it clear he wouldn’t let them hinder him from getting back to Edendale in time to see a man about buying a ranch. She drove steel into her spine. If he left them somewhere, she would simply continue the journey at her own speed.

      What if the stagecoach left them, too?

      She would not contemplate all the things that could go wrong.

      A shadow crossed the floor. She looked up and there stood Vic leaning against the door frame.

      “Going someplace?” He drawled the words.

      “Away from here.” Louise’s reply carried a full dose of her dislike for the man. Away from you.

      “Hear you and Nate got hitched. You figger you can tie that cowboy down, do ya?”

      She figured no such thing. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

      The man behind the ticket wicket watched them. The room was small enough he could hear every word. She didn’t care. She and Nate were legally married. That’s all anyone had to know.

      Vic strode over and sat beside Missy.

      Louise moved down the bench so Missy could put space between herself and Vic. He simply moved down until Louise balanced on the end.

      The ticket man cleared his throat.

      Vic ignored the subtle warning. “Missy, you don’t have to go with Louise.”

      “I’m going because I want to.”

      Louise had to give the girl credit. She never let on how much Vic frightened her.

      “You sure? Hear it’s real primitive up there. No decent town for miles. Mostly Indians and buffalo roaming about. You might get tired of nobody who can show you a good time.” He pushed closer to Missy.

      Louise pushed back to keep from being bumped to the floor.

      The ticket man cleared his throat most loudly. “Ladies, is this man bothering you?”

      As if that wasn’t obvious. But Vic had a reputation throughout the town, and Louise didn’t blame the ticket man for being cautious.

      Vic scowled at the poor man. “This ain’t none of yer business.”

      “It is mine.” Nate blasted through the door, yanked Vic to his feet and rushed him outside.

      Vic fought to free himself from Nate’s hold as he scrambled to keep his feet under him.

      Nate shoved him from the building and released him on the sidewalk.

      Vic splayed his arms to stay upright.

      “Leave my wife and sister-in-law alone. You hear?” Nate stood tall, his fists on his hips, and glowered at Vic, who picked up his hat and dusted it off before smashing it back on his head.

      “You done made a mistake.” He stalked away.

      Louise didn’t know whether to be shocked at Nate’s actions or amused at Vic’s blustering.

      Missy chuckled. “Someone should have warned Vic not to mess with Nate. He never did take kindly to unfairness.”

      Louise let those words simmer in her brain. She’d forgotten how Nate sprang to the defense of others.

      The ticket man stared at Louise.

      “That’s right,” she said calmly. “Nate and I are married now.” She felt a sense of pride in saying those words, even if it was only pretend.

      She could hear the man gasp clear across the room.

      The stagecoach rattled to a stop and Nate helped put the trunks on top.

      Louise pushed to her feet and followed Missy, who practically danced out to the sidewalk.

      Louise made it as far as the door and stopped. It was too late to change her mind. She’d burned her bridges yesterday when she married Nate. The baby kicked her hard as if to remind her that she had no choice. Vic was too dangerous. Yet she couldn’t make her feet move. She didn’t like change. Going meant leaving...leaving her life, her friends. She glanced to the right and left. None of her friends had come to bid her farewell. But then, they didn’t know she was leaving. Any more than they knew she was married again.

      Nate stood in front of her, his expression quietly concerned. He touched her arm. “Is something wrong?”

      His touch, his words, filled her with strength and resolve. “Everything is fine. I was just saying a mental goodbye.”

      He nodded. “Do you want me to give you a moment?”

      He had always had this gentle consideration for the needs of others—spoken or otherwise. Another thing she’d forgotten. Encouraged by that memory, she smiled. “I’m done. I’m ready.”

      He bent his elbow for her to hold as she crossed the wooden walkway and escorted her down the wooden steps to the ground. Grateful for his help, she turned to face him. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m so awkward right now.”

      “As your husband, I am more than willing to help you.”

      Her heart beat a rapid rhythm as wild wishes for forever tangled with regret and reality.

      He flashed a smile so unexpectedly warming that she could only stare. He leaned closer to whisper, “We might as well enjoy this while it lasts. I, for one, fully intend to.”

      “How can you think that’s possible?”

      He chuckled. “We were friends in the past. Let’s see if we can remember what that was like.”

      A relieved smile curved her mouth. See, he truly wasn’t Vic nor like Vic in any way.

      “Folks, I’d like to get on the road soon as possible.” The driver’s urging made it impossible to do more than nod her agreement to Nate.

      He steadied her as she climbed into the stage and sat next to Missy. Facing them was a woman whose expression was full of curiosity. No doubt she’d strained to hear every word. She shifted and a pained look came to her face, perhaps from sharing the space of the man on the other end of her bench—a weathered old man who ought to have shaved and bathed. Clean clothes would have been nice, too. Between the two, a cowboy in rumpled clothes leaned forward on the leather-covered seat as if uncomfortable at being pressed

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