A Montana Christmas

2 Stories in 1!

The Stone brothers are about to celebrate Christmas in two very surprising ways!

Rancher Jared Stone has taken in gorgeous single mom Melanie Briggs and her baby. Meanwhile, Will Stone is stranded out of town in a blizzard with Melanie’s sassy, stylish cousin, Ms. Dylan Briggs.

Two sexy bachelors.

Two feisty women.

One very special Temptation volume.

Enjoy!

USA TODAY bestselling author Kristine Rolofson is one of North America’s best-loved writers

Dear Reader,

Do you remember your first Christmas away from home? I was a nineteen-year-old bride of three months, celebrating the holidays in a farmhouse in Nebraska with my in-laws. It was a long way from the East Coast! I’d always wanted to be part of a large family and there I was, surrounded by Rolofsons. There were so many of them that they hired a hall in order to have a potluck Christmas dinner.

When I told my new husband that I didn’t feel well, that I couldn’t eat, I wanted to cry and my stomach felt tied up in knots, he told me I was homesick. Homesick? It was a new and awful feeling, eased by the kindness of my new family, but never completely gone until I boarded the plane to go home. Home. What a wonderful word!

A Montana Christmas is all about spending the holidays with someone you love. Whether you are the one going home—or the person cleaning it for those much-loved guests—I hope you spend your Christmas enjoying every moment with the people who mean the most to you. And give that new daughter-in-law an extra hug from me.

Merry Christmas!

Kristine Rolofson

Books by Kristine Rolofson

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

842—A WIFE FOR OWEN CHASE

850—A BRIDE FOR CALDER BROWN

858—A MAN FOR MAGGIE MOORE

877—THE BABY AND THE BACHELOR

A Montana Christmas

Kristine Rolofson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Marje, George, Phyllis and Nancy, the Rolofson siblings who have always made me feel part of the family.

CONTENTS

WHAT CHILD IS THIS?

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

EPILOGUE

WHAT CHILD IS THIS?

1

Monday, December 16

Havre, Montana

TAKE GOOD CARE OF HER.

Those were Will’s words on the phone. Well, of course he would do as Will asked. That’s what a brother did, and Jared Stone took his family duties seriously. Maybe a little too seriously, some would say. But there was nothing wrong with that, Jared figured, working his way through the crowd in a train station filled with holiday travelers and the people who waited to greet them. A man took care of his own.

Jared saw a lot of people with shopping bags filled with gifts, tired mothers holding on to toddlers, grandmothers kissing squalling babies and a few businessmen trying to avoid walking into groups of families huddled together to say hello or goodbye.

There were skiers, too. There were always skiers heading somewhere in Montana. Jared took a second to admire a long-legged blonde carrying skis and wearing tight black leggings and a sheepskin jacket, but he kept moving through the crowd as he headed toward the board that would list the arrival times of the trains. Sure enough, the train named the Empire Builder from Chicago had just arrived.

Her name is Melanie Briggs. And she’s special. Jared wished he’d asked Will for more details, but Aunt Bitty picked up the phone and started talking about cookies and presents and how much Fluffy liked spending Christmas on the ranch. Will wasn’t able to add much about his mysterious guest, but everyone at the ranch assumed that Will had finally found a woman. A special woman. He’d said so himself, hadn’t he?

The 318 on Monday. As Jared looked around the lobby he wished his younger brother had provided a better description of his guest. There had been something about a red jacket, but then Mom had taken the receiver from Bitty and asked Will if he preferred sage green or sea foam on the guest-room walls. Then Uncle Joe got on the kitchen extension and asked if the future houseguest played bridge.

I’ll fill you in when I see you. Then Will’s cell phone broke up and the connection was lost seconds later. Jared would have asked why the woman was making a three-day train trip instead of flying to Great Falls, which was what Will would do tomorrow to get home for Christmas.

He also would have asked how Will met her. And why he’d invited her to spend Christmas at the ranch, but Will was famous for inviting people to visit Graystone. His brother, always the adventurer, collected friends wherever he traveled. But he’d never invited one lone woman—one designated for special treatment—home until now.

So the next afternoon, after trying three times to call his brother and getting only Will’s voice mail, Jared drove the hundred and sixty miles north to Havre, a good-size town just south of the Canadian border, to meet a stranger. A stranger his younger brother called “special.” He’d practically had to hogtie his mother to the kitchen table to keep her from making the trip, but he’d needed to take the truck and he didn’t think either woman would be comfortable riding for three hours in the back section of the king cab.

“I’ll have dinner ready then,” Jenna Stone declared, with a sideways glance at Aunt Bitty, who was busy plugging her radio into a receptacle above the counter. “I wouldn’t have minded getting out of the house for a while, though.”

“No,” he’d said, figuring the next suggestion would be for Jenn to meet the train by herself, and with the way the sky looked, they were in for snow. And a lot of it. They might need the four-wheel-drive truck, and his mother’s Explorer was in the shop getting new brakes and wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow.

Jared continued searching through the crowds and looking for a special-looking woman who might or might not be wearing a red coat. He should have brought one of those signs chauffeurs hold, and the thought made him smile.

He skirted the edge of the crowd and looked for someone who appeared to be waiting for a ride. A middle-aged woman with two small children sat on a bench, her suitcases piled around her. And a couple of college-age girls, expectant expressions on their pretty faces, stood on tiptoe and peered over the crowd. He caught a glimpse of a cherry-red coat and dark hair curling to a woman’s shoulders and hurried toward her. If she would only turn around, he thought, he could say something like, “Are you waiting for Jared Stone?”

She turned toward him, almost as if hearing his unspoken plea, and revealed pale skin, large eyes and a heart-shaped face that was nothing short of perfect. Her red coat, age and the expression on her face, as if she was waiting for help, made Jared feel as if he’d hit pay dirt.

She was lovely, a fragile-looking young woman who obviously needed rescuing. Her eyes widened when she spotted him a few feet away from her. Jared knew no one could deny the Stone family resemblance. He and Will both looked like their father, though Will was leaner. Jared smiled, but was stalled on his way to greet her as two elderly women shoved suitcases in his path and waved gloved hands toward the exit. Jared reached down to help them, earning the fluttering thanks of the Bailey sisters, old friends of his grandparents who had moved to Havre a few years back.

“You look just like your grandfather,” one of them announced. “I’d know that Stone chin anywhere.”

“Are you looking for someone?” Jared asked. In other words, was there someone who could assist the Baileys so he’d be free to collect his guest and begin the drive home?

“Mr. Perkins is over there,” the other sister, the shorter one, said. “He’s come to collect us, but I don’t think he’s seen us yet. My, what a crowd this afternoon. It certainly is festive.”

Jared didn’t know who Mr. Perkins was, but he obligingly turned to look where the elder Miss Bailey pointed. He caught the eye of the station’s porter and waved him over to help.

“The porter’s coming to carry these suitcases for you,” Jared reassured the women. “Just stay where you are.”

“Thank you, dear,” the taller Miss Bailey beamed. “Please wish your dear mother a merry Christmas for us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his Stetson before turning back to the dark-haired beauty in the red coat. She was no longer there, which gave him a jolt of unfamiliar panic. Jared Stone wasn’t a man to panic easily, if ever, but he sure as hell didn’t want to lose his brother’s special guest.

Jared pushed through the thinning crowd and saw the red-coated young woman seated, bundles of blankets on her lap, on a bench along the wall between the rest rooms. Her head was tilted back against the wall, almost as if she’d resigned herself to resting there for a long, long time. She clutched the bundle in her arms as if it was her only and most sacred possession.

This time he made sure he said her name. “Melanie?” She didn’t move, so this time he said it much louder.

“Melanie,” he called, surprising himself with how loud he’d said the word, but satisfied when her head lifted and she met his gaze. He willed himself to smile, though he felt as if a bolt of summer lightning had hit him right in the middle of the train station.

She was beautiful, he realized again, when her lips lifted into a smile of greeting. He moved around a chubby grandfather, who bent over a little boy to make sure his jacket was zipped shut, to approach her. Finally.

“You are Melanie Briggs, I hope,” he said, stepping close enough to see that her eyes were lined in dark shadows and she looked like she could use some rest. Two and a half days on a train couldn’t be much fun.

“Yes. Jared Stone?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“Same here.” He wished he’d thought to bring pillows; the woman looked tired enough to sleep all the way back to the ranch.

“I saw you a moment ago,” she said, her voice low and soft. “And then you stopped to greet the older ladies and I thought I had been mistaken after all.”

“I look too much like my brother to fool anyone,” Jared said, wondering why he wanted to scoop her into his arms and carry her out the door. Only because she looked as if she’d fall over if she stood, he assured himself. Not for any other reason than that.

“Will told me I would know you when I saw you, but I didn’t really believe him.”

“Come on.” He reached for the large suitcase at her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’d like that,” she said, adjusting the bundle in her arms. That’s when he looked down and saw the pink face of a sleeping baby. That’s when his heart stopped beating for a second or two, long enough to scare him, as he stared down at the baby in his houseguest’s arms.

“Will didn’t tell you I had a daughter?”

“No.” Jared looked up. The woman gripped the baby, wrapped securely in what looked like a mountain of blankets, with a fierce protectiveness. “It was a bad connection.”

“He told me it would be okay, that no one would mind.”

“No one will,” he said, silently cursing his brother for not warning them. Melanie stood, managing to sling a purse and an oversize quilted bag over her shoulder at the same time. The baby never made a sound, though Jared caught a glimpse of its eyes as they popped open to stare up at Melanie.

“The car seat is mine, too,” she said, so Jared picked it up. It wasn’t Will’s child, of course, he assured himself as he motioned the woman toward the exit. There was no way his brother could have kept such a secret from the family for such a long time. Besides, if the child was Will’s, she would have had the Stone name and live at Graystone ranch by now.

“The suitcase rolls,” Melanie said. “You can pull out the handle and—”

“This is faster,” Jared countered, holding the black case by its handle, along with the plastic seat contraption. The crowd had thinned now, and there was no sign of the Bailey sisters. “Go on toward the door. I’m right behind you.”

He stayed close enough to touch that dark hair with his fingers, not that he did so. This one was special, Will had said. This woman was Will’s and was, therefore, to be protected at all costs. Even if she was a stranger who carried an infant.

Their mother was going to be beside herself with joy. She’d longed for grandchildren for years, since her sons had been old enough to get married and bring brides to the ranch. There had been no brides, not until now. The Stone sons showed little inclination to settle down.

Melanie paused at the door and rearranged the blankets around the baby’s face while Jared reached out and pushed the door open for her. The cold wind hit them with cruel force, and Melanie hunched over the child and didn’t seem to notice that Jared’s arm lay across her shoulder to guide her to the parking lot. When they rounded the corner of the building, the wind eased and he dropped his hand from her back.

“So this is Havre,” she said, looking across the railroad yard to a restaurant famous for serving food quickly to train passengers who would continue west after a short stop in northern Montana. She pronounced the word “Hay-ver.”

“Have-er,” Jared said, raising his voice to be heard above the wind. They waited for a line of cars to pass before they could cross the street. “It was supposed to be named for a French town, but local legend has a different version.”

She looked at him and prompted, “Which is?”

“Two fur trappers were fighting over a woman, and one of them decided he wasn’t going to get killed deciding who won, so he said, ‘You can have-er.”

“Have her,” she repeated, and the briefest of smiles flashed across her face. “You’re not teasing? This is a true story?”

“I don’t know about true, but it’s on a sign here at the train station,” he declared. “You want to see it?”

She shivered. “Not today.”

“Then come on,” Jared said, urging her across the street by touching her back once again. She felt small and delicate, as if the north wind would pick her up and blow her to Wyoming if she wasn’t weighted down by a blanket-wrapped child. What was Will thinking by inviting this woman and her baby to Graystone? His brother would have a lot of questions to answer.

ANYONE WOULD KNOW THEY were brothers without having to ask, Melanie decided. Will and his older brother shared the same broad shoulders and dark hair, identical stubborn chins and skin color. Will’s eyes were brown, not Jared’s unusual shade of dark green. His face was narrower, his expression more relaxed, but their hair waved in similar patterns across their foreheads and both brothers walked as if they knew exactly where they were going, all of the time.

She would have enjoyed the walk to Jared Stone’s truck if she hadn’t been worried about Beth feeling the fierce wind that pushed at them from behind. Melanie didn’t mind the wind that much. Fresh air had been in short supply on the train. She noticed that Will’s brother adjusted his long strides so she could keep up with him, even though she was already walking as fast as she could without breaking into a jog.

He settled her and Beth into the passenger seat of an oversize truck, then went around to the driver’s side and proceeded to figure out how to install the baby’s car seat into the back section of the truck. “It’s a long ride” was all the man said. “Do you want to put, ah, her in the seat before we get started?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

He was around to her side of the truck almost instantly and helped her get down. She felt awkward and old and close to tears by the time she settled Beth into the seat, the straps adjusted over her tiny body. Luckily her daughter liked to ride and would sleep for a while. A long while, Melanie hoped. Jared Stone hadn’t been expecting a baby and wasn’t prepared for Beth’s fussing.

“All set?” His voice was a low rumble behind her, reminding Melanie that she needed to climb back into the truck once again. She needed to stop fretting, too.

“Yes,” she assured him. Things will work out, Will had promised Saturday afternoon when he helped her onto the train. Quit worrying. “Everything’s fine.”

“I guess you’ve never been to Montana before?” His question was polite, but his attention was on starting the truck and checking the rearview mirror before he backed out of the parking space.

“No. Will warned me that it would be cold.” And private, too. She rubbed the condensation from the side window and saw some of Havre before Jared drove the truck onto a main road. And then there wasn’t much to see except snow-coated grasslands and an occasional house. She unfastened her seat belt so she could check to see that Beth was breathing. Sure enough, the baby slept without a care in the world, her cheeks pink and her little lips pursed as if she dreamt of being fed.

“What else did he tell you?”

“He said your mother likes Christmas.” He said that I would be able to hide. And heal. And pretend that the huge black hole that was now my life would be invisible.

He chuckled. “Likes Christmas? That’s an understatement. Our mother is Santa Claus, Martha Stewart and Bing Crosby rolled into one.”

“Why Bing Crosby?”

“She sings along to his Christmas CDs while she cooks. Right now she’s decorating the guest room for you.”

“I hope she’s not going to any trouble.” She had made Will promise that her visit wouldn’t inconvenience his family.

“Don’t worry. She’s been having a great time since we got a satellite dish. Mom discovered the decorating and design channels and has been fixing up the house ever since.”

She heard laughter in his voice, and affection. “I’m sorry Will didn’t tell any of you that I was bringing a baby. I just assumed he’d said something before he invited us.”

“My mother is used to surprises from Will.” He turned on the defroster, then stepped on the gas pedal to pass a large van. Melanie looked out the window and rested her head against the back of the seat. It would be so easy to close her eyes and be lulled to sleep. In an attempt to be polite, she tried to stay awake. The oncoming cars had their headlights on now that the sky had grown darker. She looked at her watch. Four o’clock. More than twenty-four hours since she and Beth had boarded the train at Union Station. Her cousin Dylan would be having a fit, but she would have to understand that a Christmas with the family wasn’t something she was ready for. Not yet.

“We’re going to be on the road for about two and a half hours,” Jared said, breaking the silence. “Maybe more, because I think we’ll stay on the main highway and then pick up Highway 200 at Great Falls.”

“All right.” She had no idea what he was talking about.

“We’ll stop there for coffee and, uh, anything else you need for the baby.” He glanced toward Melanie and surprised her with the serious expression on his face. “Do you think she’s okay back there?”

“She’s sleeping,” she assured him. “She likes to ride.”

“Good thing,” he murmured. “See that sky? We’re going to get some more snow, and soon.”

Melanie looked out the window and craned her neck upward to see dark gray clouds and approaching darkness. “We won’t get stuck, will we?”

“No. We’ll be home in time for a late supper. Unless you want to stop and get something on the road. I should have asked if you were hungry.”

“I’m fine,” she said, though it had been hours since breakfast. Beth had been fussy most of the afternoon and there had been no time to eat the sandwich another traveler had purchased for her in the dining car.

“If you change your mind, just say so.” He switched on the radio and a woman with a country twang sang about love in the afternoon. Jared hurried to turn it off. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot about waking the baby. What’s her name?”

“Beth. And the music won’t bother her.” At least the song had filled the truck and substituted for conversation.

She didn’t mind the silence.

JENNA LOOKED AT HER WATCH, then at the clock on the wall above the refrigerator. Jared should have their guest by now. They should be on their way home, but she’d been switching back and forth between the Carol Duvall show and the Weather Channel and now she was worried. She’d no interest in rubberstamping faux wallpaper when another storm was predicted and neither son was home safe and sound.

“They’ll be fine. No one’s more dependable than Jared,” Uncle Joe declared, reading her mind as he entered the large kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He paused before putting the carafe back into place. “You want some, honey?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got enough jitters as it is.” But she gave the old man a smile she hoped was reassuring. He was the last remaining member of her side of the family and, at eighty-two, Uncle Joe was proud of his longevity and his skill with cards. He’d arrived the week before Thanksgiving and, declaring he was lonesome, moved into the enormous ranch house “until the New Year,” he’d declared. “Or until you kick me out.” He knew Jenna would never do such a thing, but it was a little joke between them. Uncle Joe liked his little jokes.

“You’ve got no reason to be nervous, honey. Christmas around here is always one hell of an occasion, thanks to you.” Uncle Joe pulled out a chair and sat down at the long worktable that had been at the ranch for four generations. “And Will was only in Washington for six weeks. He couldn’t get serious about no young woman, not that fast.”

“I don’t know about that.” She would fix a cup of herbal tea, Jenna decided. “My sons have big hearts, though Jared tries to hide it more than Will. And I sure wouldn’t mind having a daughter-in-law. I’d about given up hope of ever having another woman for company around here.”

“Bitty doesn’t count?” The old man shot her an evil grin.

“Aunt Bitty’s in a class by herself.”

“Where is the old bat, anyway?”

“Uncle Joe—” she began, ready to admonish him again to be nice to her husband’s aunt.

“I know, I know.” He held up a gnarled hand as if to ward off her words. “She’s an in-law and you can’t do anything about her. I don’t mind her radio shows, but that barking rat of hers is too much for a man to ignore.”

Jenna couldn’t help her smile. The “barking rat” was Bitty’s ancient Maltese, a nine-pound dog who was never out of his devoted owner’s sight. Fluffy did everything but eat his meals at the dinner table, and Jenna had no doubt that if she allowed it, that’s exactly where he would perch. “Fluffy doesn’t bark that much.”

“He isn’t ‘fluffy,’ either,” Joe grumbled.

“I’m sure his thyroid medication will kick in one of these days.” She looked again at the clock and wished she’d told Jared to call her when he left Havre. Her eldest didn’t think much of cell phones; he grudgingly kept one in his truck’s glove compartment, but rarely used it.

“You spoil us all, Jenn,” he declared, taking another sip of coffee. “Like you’ll spoil Will’s girl, once she gets here. You get that painting done?”

“Yesterday.” She hoped Melanie Briggs liked lilac.

“And dinner smells good.”

“Yes,” she said, taking the kettle off the stove. “I cooked a roast earlier, so no matter what time they arrive dinner will be ready.”

“You think of everything,” the old man declared, beaming at her. He plucked a deck of cards from his shirt pocket. “You want to play a hand of gin rummy, just to make the time pass quick?”

“Sure.” Between Joe’s cards, Bitty’s radio programs and Fluffy’s constant begging for treats, Jenna hoped she wouldn’t have time to worry about her sons.

2

SO WHAT IF SHE WAS ONE of the most beautiful women he had ever seen? Oh, there had been some rodeo queens in his past, and that one summer seven years ago when he’d dated the first runner-up for Miss Montana. But there was something about Melanie, a softness that urged him closer though he knew he should stay well away. After all, she had been invited to the ranch by his brother, who was probably head over heels in love with the woman.

And she had a small child, which meant there was an ex-lover or ex-husband somewhere in the picture to complicate things. There was a lot more to Melanie Briggs than met the eye and Jared hoped his little brother knew what he was getting himself into.

He glanced over and saw that her eyes were closed. He knew if he started a conversation she would sit up and attempt to take part, just to be polite. There would be plenty of time to ask questions tomorrow, but he wouldn’t be asking them of his houseguest, that was for damn sure. Will’s plane was due in at 5:38 and there would be plenty of time on the drive home to find out what was going on.

Another thirty or so miles passed before he woke her.

“Do you want some coffee or tea or something?” Jared slowed the truck and took the exit that led to a large café. Its lights looked welcoming in the dark and a number of semis and pickups filled the parking lot. Snow swirled around in the wind and hit the windshield, but it was nothing serious. Just flurries so far, but they had another hour or so to go before they were home.

“If you’re getting some,” Melanie said, but she sounded pleased that they were stopping. The baby let out a couple of noisy complaints after hearing her mother’s voice.

“Do you want to come in or wait here while I get it?” He pulled the truck into the lot and found a space near the side entrance.

“I’ll come with you. Beth’s starting to fuss.” She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the seat to check the child. Sure enough, the baby wailed again as if she wanted something.

“What do you do for that?”

“Change her, feed her, talk to her.”

She made it sound simple, but Jared had a good idea that keeping a baby happy wasn’t so easy. He’d nursed enough calves and foals back to health to know that babies of any species were demanding creatures.

Before he could offer help, Melanie opened the door and hopped out, then fiddled with the lever to move the seat forward so she could climb in back with the baby. A blast of cold air burst into the truck, but Jared got out and made sure both doors were shut so the baby wouldn’t catch cold.

“Holler when you’re done,” he told her, and stood by the door, his back to the wind, and waited for Melanie to finish wrapping up the child. Jared shivered but didn’t bother to zip his down jacket. Babies and winter didn’t go together. Cows at least waited until spring to drop their calves, even though “spring” in Montana was a loose interpretation of the season.

He turned when he heard the woman fumble at the door, and he found himself taking the baby from her so she could climb down unimpeded. The child’s face was covered with a pink fuzzy blanket and once again she was wrapped up in a thick bundle. “Are you sure she can breathe in there?”

“I need to keep the wind out of her face.” Melanie reached for her child, but Jared—who had a good grip on the kid—hurried toward the door of the restaurant. He was in no mood to stand outside a second more than necessary, and besides, he didn’t want to drop the baby while handing her over to her mother.

“Breakfast 24 Hours” read a blinking neon sign beside the door, which made Jared think of pancakes and eggs and an extra side order of bacon. He pushed open the glass door and they were soon inside the stuffy warmth of a large bright room filled with orange booths, metal chairs and Formica-topped tables. A row of black stools lined the counter and a tired-looking waitress said, “Sit anywhere you like, folks.”

He turned to Melanie, who reached out to take the flap of blanket away from the baby’s face. The baby’s blue eyes stared up at him as if she’d never seen a rancher before. Then she screwed up her face and let out a scream of dismay that caused a couple of truckers to look up from their steak and eggs.

“Here, give her to me,” Melanie said, and this time Jared was happy to do just that. “Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like being wet.”

“Oh.” He watched as Melanie unwrapped the wad of blankets with gentle hands, then cooed at the little girl.

“You’ll feel much better in a minute, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I’ll get a booth,” Jared said, backing up a step.

“Can you take these? I’ll be right back.” She handed Jared the blankets and put the screaming child against her shoulder. She headed toward the ladies’ room, leaving Jared standing at the edge of the room while three older men at a nearby table gave him pitying looks. He shrugged, tossed the blankets over his shoulder and headed toward a corner booth.

“Coffee?” The waitress was right behind him with a half-full carafe.

“Please.” He slid into the booth and dumped the blankets next to him against the wall.

“What about your wife?”

“She’s not—never mind. You can pour her some, too.”

“Just wave when you want me to take your order,” she said, after filling the second mug. She pulled a handful of plastic cream containers from her apron pocket and set them on the table.

“Thanks.” He took a sip of coffee and thought about having a piece of pie to go along with it. He was starving and there was still another hour and a half to go before they arrived at the ranch. But he’d wait for Melanie, he decided. Once she joined him at the booth and they were facing each other, maybe he could find out what was going on between her and Will.

He’d finished two-thirds of his coffee before she appeared. Her red jacket was over her arm, the baby against her shoulder, the diaper bag banging her hip as she walked. He saw she wore a brown turtleneck a shade darker than her hair and slim blue jeans that belied the fact she’d had a baby a few months ago. A lock of her hair was damp, as if she’d splashed water on her face. She wore no makeup, and didn’t need any. Not in his opinion, anyway. She managed to ease into the booth while holding the child against her.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said, moving the straps of her purse and diaper bag from her shoulder.

“That’s your coffee,” he said. “If you want tea instead I’ll have—”

“Coffee’s fine. Thanks.” The baby fussed, pulling its little feet up against Melanie’s breasts. She moved the child to the crook of her arm. The baby’s face was red, its mouth turned down as she looked up at her mother.

“Can I have one of those blankets?” Her cheeks grew pink. “There wasn’t room to feed her in the washroom. I hope you’re not the type to go running out into the parking lot.”

Jared handed over the pink fluffy blanket. He had no idea what she was talking about, not until she draped the blanket carefully around the baby, covering most of the child and, he assumed, her own left breast. No, he wasn’t going to run out into the night, but he sure as hell didn’t know where he was supposed to look while this woman breast-fed her child. The baby’s smacking noises didn’t help ease his embarrassment level, either. Melanie, obviously right-handed, took a careful sip of her coffee.

“I can sit at the counter and give you some privacy,” he offered, figuring he was the “type,” as she put it, to take the easy way out.

“If you’d be more comfortable,” she said, her voice soft. “But it doesn’t bother me—or Beth. I’m really sorry you have to go through all of this. You don’t know me and yet here we are, and there you are, and you weren’t expecting any of this, only to pick up your brother’s friend at the train station.”

It was the most he’d heard her say since they’d met. He kept his gaze fixed firmly above her neck, not that there was anything to see. Melanie had lifted her sweater and engineered the blanket so that no one farther away than arm’s length would know what was going on. He prayed the covering would stay in place, that the baby wouldn’t get rowdy, that nothing would…drip. “Do you want anything to eat?” was all he could manage to say.

“Are you having anything?”

“Yes. You can’t beat the pie here.” He handed her one of the thick plastic-coated menus propped against a ketchup bottle and watched as her face lit up. She was hungry, he realized, noting that she managed to hold the menu with one hand. “We’ve got at least an hour and a half before we get home,” he added.

She set the menu on the table and smiled. “I would love a chocolate milkshake, some toast and a large glass of ice water.”

He turned to catch the waitress’s attention and, when she came to their booth, gave the order. She showed no sign of noticing that Melanie was feeding her child, so maybe this wasn’t such a strange occurrence after all.

“Will said you have a large cattle ranch.”

“We’ve been lucky.” He drained his coffee and hoped the waitress would return to give him a refill. “The place has been in the family for a long, long time. Where are you from?”

“Massachusetts, originally. And then I lived in D.C.”

He waited for her to add something about her family or her reasons for living in Washington, but she took another sip of her coffee and then lifted the edge of the blanket to check on her daughter’s progress.

“Why’d you take the train?” he couldn’t help asking.

“I’m afraid to fly.”

There was more to it, he was sure. Where’s the child’s father was something else he’d like to know. And why the SOB would let his family spend two and a half days on a train to spend the holidays with strangers.

She looked toward the counter as two more men, their hats and coats dusted with snow, entered the restaurant and wiped their boots on the rubber mat near the door. “It’s snowing harder now. Will we be all right?”

“It might take us longer to get home, but it would take a lot more snow than this to cause trouble.” Jared glanced at the window, but a row of checked curtains hid his view of the parking lot. “This is typical Montana weather, nothing to worry about.”

She smiled, a flash of sweetness that threatened his breathing. “Will talked about you a lot. He said, ‘Nothing ever bothers my older brother.”’

Well, Will hadn’t seen him drink coffee with a breast-feeding woman.

“WE’RE HERE,” A GRUFF MALE voice announced. Melanie didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to move, either. Not that she could remember where she was, exactly, but this place was warm and quiet, and sleep was such a rare pleasure she couldn’t bear for it to end.

“Melanie,” the voice repeated. “We’re at the ranch.”

The ranch. It took several seconds for those words to make sense, but Melanie blinked and opened her eyes as cold air brushed across her face. The tall rancher shut his door with a quiet click, but the overhead light stayed on. Melanie sat up and unbuckled her seat belt. Her neck was stiff, but she’d been in such a deep sleep she didn’t mind. She climbed into the back seat as Jared opened the passenger door.

“Be careful getting out. It’s snowing pretty hard and it’s slippery,” he said, but he didn’t look the least bit cold as he stood there in the dark. There were snowflakes coating his hair and the shoulders of his bulky jacket. Every inch the western hero, there was something about Jared that radiated strength and calm, a man sure of himself and what mattered in his life. His brother had that same confidence, but with easier manners and a knack for conversation.

She realized she was staring and turned her attention back to unhitching the straps of the car seat and gathering the blankets around her sleeping child. Her arms were so tired that they trembled as she lifted the baby.

“Give her to me,” he said. “It’s safer that way.”

“All right.” She covered Beth’s face with the corner of the blanket. Behind Jared light glowed, and when he moved the bucket seat forward to take the baby, Melanie saw a large porch and the bright windows of a very big house. She followed him, though not as quickly as she would have liked. The wind blew the breath back into her mouth when she stepped onto the ground, forcing her to lower her head and hurry after Jared as best she could. She slammed the truck’s door and hurried through the snow toward a porch so long it appeared to stretch across the entire length of the house and then some. A door opened and she heard a woman’s voice call out, but Melanie concentrated on negotiating the three wide steps to the porch before she looked up.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re home,” a lovely silver-haired woman she assumed was Jared’s mother said. “I was so—Jared, is that a baby?”

“Yeah. Here.” Jared handed Beth to the woman and then his gloved hand tugged Melanie to the opened door and hauled her inside an enormous brown-and-white kitchen that smelled of freshly baked bread and roasting beef. When she would have stopped to wipe her feet on a mat that read Howdy, Stranger, Jared urged her forward so he could shut the door. He then helped her remove her coat and then, shrugging off his own, hung them both on nearby hooks on a wood-paneled wall.

Jared’s mother, Beth snug in her arms, uncovered the baby’s face before lifting her green-eyed gaze to her guest. “And you must be Melanie. I’m Jenna Stone, which I’m sure you’ve guessed already.”

“Yes,” she began, surprised that Will’s mother looked so young. Her silver hair was caught up at her neck with a barrette; she wore black jeans and an oversize black velvet blouse. Her small wrists were encased in silver bracelets, and beaded silver hoops dangled from her ears. “Thank you for inviting me—us. I’m sorry that Will didn’t tell you ahead of time that I was bringing my daughter with me.”

“Please don’t feel that way,” the woman said, her voice soft. “We’re so glad to meet you. Both of you. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a baby in the house.” She gazed down at Beth and then back to Melanie. She looked as if she’d been given the best Christmas gift of her life. “Does this mean I’m finally a grandmother?”

“I wouldn’t know,” was all she could think to say. Jenna looked so disappointed that Melanie almost felt as if she should apologize again. “Will and I—”

“There you are!” An elderly white-haired gentleman, a wide grin splitting his tanned face into a thousand wrinkles, burst into the room. He clapped Jared on the back, peered at Beth over Jenna’s shoulder, and then eyed Melanie with an expression she could only interpret as sympathetic. “You must be Will’s friend from Washington. Glad to meet you.”

She took the hand he offered. “And you must be Uncle Joe.”

He nodded, releasing her fingers after giving them a gentle squeeze of approval. “That’s right, darlin’. Tell me something, do you play bridge?”

Before Melanie could answer, Jenna spoke. “Let the kids sit down and eat. You can arrange your card games over supper.”

Melanie saw Jared peer into another room. “Where’s Aunt Bitty?”

“Having a nap, I guess,” Joe declared. “With that idiotic dog of hers.”

“We’d better wake her up and tell her you’re here or she’ll have a fit,” Jenna said.

“She can’t hear a damn thing with those headphones on,” the older man grumbled.

Jenna handed the baby to Melanie. “What’s her name?”

“Beth.”

“Well, bring Beth over here to the couch and get her settled. I know I have a cradle up in the attic Jared can get after supper, but for now we’ll make do with pillows, all right?” She led Melanie past a round pedestal table set for supper to the other end of the room, where an overstuffed couch sat against a wall. A fuzzy brown afghan was spread over its back and blue towels covered the cushions. “I keep this old thing here so the men don’t have to change their clothes in the middle of a workday when they want to sit down for a bit,” she explained. “I saw a show on television explaining how to make slipcovers but I haven’t tried it myself. What do you think for fabric, blue brushed corduroy or tan? I bought both because I couldn’t make up my mind.”

“Either one would work,” she said, visualizing the old couch covered with new fabric. “You could do the couch in tan and then make pillows with the blue, if you wanted to bring that color into the room.” Melanie sat down and laid Beth on her back on the middle cushion. The baby blinked at her as if to say Where am I now? “You’re on a ranch,” she told her. “No more trains or trucks for a little while.”

“You poor thing. You must be exhausted and I’m rattling on about decorating.” Jenna leaned over and helped unwrap Beth’s blankets. “Let’s get this little sweetheart settled.”

“I could help you,” Melanie said. “I worked for an interior designer for a couple of years after college, so I love talking about fabric and I’m a pretty good seamstress. Do you have a sewing machine?”

“Yes, but—”

She smiled at Will’s mother. “Good. I may not have made you a grandmother, but I can make you a slipcover.”

JARED STAYED by the door, then reached for his coat. He needed some air, especially after witnessing his mother’s brief euphoria over the thought of having a grandchild. “I’m going back out to get the rest of Melanie’s things.”

“You need help, son?”

“I’m all set.” The last thing he wanted was for Joe to catch pneumonia, though the man was as tough as any forty-year old he’d ever met. Still, there was no sense taking chances. “Just open the door when you see me coming.”

Joe looked out the window at the falling snow. “Boy, we’ve got ourselves a white Christmas now, for sure.”

“Yeah. I wish Will was here, though. If this keeps up he might have trouble getting home tomorrow.” Which was not something Jared wanted to dwell on.

His uncle stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What’s she like, this Melanie girl?”

He shrugged on his coat but didn’t bother to zip it shut. “Nice enough, I guess.”

“You spent hours with her and that’s all you have to say, ‘nice enough’?”

“What do you want me to say?” Every protective urge I never knew I had has rushed through my body and clogged my brain and I want to carry that woman up to my bed and make love to her until she smiles at me again? He wondered what his eighty-two-year-old uncle would say to that. Ready to make his escape, Jared kept one hand on the doorknob.

“I dunno. Maybe reveal a little conversation. You must have learned something about her.”

“Not really.”

“Do you know anything about the baby’s father?”

“You’re asking questions of the wrong man, Uncle Joe. You’ll have to save them for Will.” He turned away, but Joe wasn’t finished talking.

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Joe seemed to be waiting for Jared to agree with him, so he nodded before turning back to open the door.

“Yes. If you like the type.” The snow had covered the truck already, but he could still see their footprints leading to the porch.

“The type? What the hell does that mean? Young folks,” Joe grumbled, waving him away. Jared stepped outside into the storm. He would get Melanie’s suitcases and check on the horses before supper. All he needed was some fresh air and he would forget the ridiculous urge to take Melanie Briggs into his arms.

3

IT ALMOST WORKED, TOO. Until dinner, that is, when he made the mistake of touching her.

Jared hoped no one noticed when Melanie dropped her napkin and he, seated on her left, bent over to pick it up at the same time she leaned to get it herself. Her head hit his shoulder, her soft hair brushed his face, her fingers grabbed his arm when she thought she’d lost her balance.

“Oops,” she said, righting herself. “Sorry.”

“I’ve got it,” he grumbled, trying real hard to ignore his physical reaction. He felt the heat in his face and didn’t look at her when he handed her the square of white cloth. For some unknown reason his mother had stopped using paper napkins. He made a pretense of reaching for the salt shaker and caught a glimpse of Uncle Joe’s hawk-eyed interest, but ignored it.

His mother cleared her throat.

“Jared,” she began, forcing him to look up from a mound of mashed potatoes. “After dinner, could you go up in the attic and find our old cradle? I think there might be a playpen up there, too, but I’m not sure.”

“I’ll look,” he said, forking another chunk of roast beef. He’d noticed that Melanie was close to cleaning her plate, which was impressive. She looked like one of those women who consumed nothing but carrot sticks, and yet she ate like a trucker.

Jenna turned to her left, where Aunt Bitty was busy slipping pieces to Fluffy. The dog knew enough to be quiet and stay close to Bitty’s chair, and Jenna knew enough to ignore the subterfuge. “Aunt Bitty, do you remember that cradle? I think your father made it.”

“Not my father,” Bitty said, wiping her fingers on her napkin. “Raymond didn’t know a handsaw from a piece of sandpaper. He’d rather have worked with horses than with wood, that’s for sure.”

Uncle Joe nodded. “I remember that. He had quite a knack, too. Melanie, honey, can you pass me those rolls? And the strawberry jelly, too, if you would.”

Bitty slipped another piece of meat under the table and continued. “It was Jared’s grandfather who liked building things, but he didn’t do much of it. Didn’t have the time.”

Jared turned to Melanie to explain. “There’ve been four generations of Stones on this property, including Aunt Bitty’s father, who was one of my grandfather’s two brothers.”

“Not very prolific, though,” the old woman grumbled. “My father, Raymond Montrose Stone, just had the one girl. Me. And I never met a man I could stand for more than a few hours. Peter and Ethel’s son died in Korea and their girls married and moved to Billings, but they’re divorced now, you know.”

Jared wondered how the hell he could get her to stop before she got down to the fact that he and Will needed to come up with some children of their own. “Aunt Bitty, has Mom shown you the Animal Planet channel yet?”

“Oh, pooh,” she said, waving her hand at him. “She’s always watching those craft shows. Yesterday we saw how to paint glasses and dishes, but you couldn’t put ’em in the dishwasher, so what good are they?”

“Not much, I suspect,” Joe supplied, giving Melanie a wink.

“Where was I?” Bitty frowned.

“Crafts,” Jenna prompted.

“Oh, yes, the lack of descendants.” Clearly Bitty was not going to be deterred. “Jenna and George, Jr. had the two boys, of course, which was exactly what the place needed.”

Jared looked at his mother and silently mouthed help. She shrugged and let Bitty finish her ramblings, which were going to end up—as they always did—with the deplorable lack of family responsibility on his and Will’s parts because they hadn’t sowed their oats all over the county and sprouted future Graystone ranch hands.

“But the boys,” she said, pausing to sigh dramatically. “The boys have not married and produced the next generation of Stones. Preferably male. And lots of them.” She shot Melanie an apologetic look. “Not that I have anything against girls, my dear, but it takes men to run a place like this. Married men whose women know how to work, too. My mother could ride and rope with the best of them. Jenna, too. Do you ride, Melanie?”

“I actually preferred cooking to horses,” Jenna interjected, much to Jared’s relief. “Melanie, would you like some more roast beef? Jared, pass that platter over to her. The potatoes, too.”

He did exactly that, holding the platter while Melanie took another slice of meat.

“Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. “Please. Call me ‘Mel.’ Everyone does.”

“They do?” The name didn’t fit. He knew an auctioneer named Mel. He could spit a stream of tobacco twelve feet.

“Don’t you have a nickname?”

“No.”

Jared set the platter down and tried to think of something interesting to say as he handed her the bowl of mashed potatoes. The family was used to Bitty’s comments and questions, but he hated the idea of Melanie being embarrassed. She didn’t look embarrassed, though. She looked as if she wanted to laugh, as if she was enjoying herself. Odd. Aunt Bitty didn’t usually inspire that sort of reaction.

“Looks like we’re going to get a lot of snow tonight,” was all he could manage to say. Everyone looked at him as if he’d just spoken Greek. “I…we won’t be able to give Melanie—Mel—a tour of the ranch until the weather clears,” he added. There. He gave Uncle Joe a say something look.

“Well—” the old man stopped buttering his roll and grinned at their guest “—tomorrow we’ll have to plow a path to the barn and introduce you to the horses. Too bad that little baby of yours is too little to enjoy the animals.”

“Yes, but I’ll look forward to seeing everything,” she said, glancing toward the couch where the child slept hemmed in by pillows. “I’ve never been to Montana before.”

“We’ll have to give you the grand tour, won’t we, Jared?” Uncle Joe winked.

“Mrs. Stone, dinner is delicious.”

“Call me Jenna, remember? What on earth did you eat on the train?”

“Sandwiches, mostly. Getting to the dining car was difficult with the baby.”

That was probably an understatement, Jared figured.

Jenna was obviously fascinated. “So how did you manage?”

“The man who sat across from us—he was going all the way to Seattle—brought back food and coffee, which helped so much. People were very kind, but it was a much harder trip than I thought it would be.” She wiped her lips with her napkin.

“Then why,” Bitty asked, her three chins shaking, “did you attempt such a thing?”

“I don’t like to fly. Will didn’t tell you?”

“Will didn’t tell us much at all,” Jared said, frowning. “Except that you had a red coat.”

“I’ve never liked flying, either,” Uncle Joe declared. “Give me my Ford truck any day. Seems like if I can’t drive there I’ve got no business trying to get there in the first place.”

“Folks gallivant around too much these days,” Bitty added, giving Jared a disapproving look. “If the young people stayed home they’d most likely get married faster and start having sons. My folks were nineteen when they got married and seems like you’d better get busy and—”

“Who wants coffee? Or tea?” His mother stood and began to clear the dishes from the table, and Melanie leaped up to help her. Fluffy barked for leftovers, distracting Bitty from her latest lecture and saving Jared from having to grit his teeth and remind his aunt that thirty-two was not over the hill.

And then there was Melanie. Jared picked up his dishes and grabbed Joe’s to take over to the sink, but he couldn’t help noticing that Melanie—Mel—seemed real comfortable in the kitchen. She and Jenna were good-naturedly arguing over Mel’s decision to wash the dishes, but then the baby cried and settled the argument. Melanie—he couldn’t think of her as Mel—rushed over to pick up the child and coo into her ear.

Jared’s heart sank down to his silver belt buckle. Was Will in love with her? Or worse, was she in love with Will? Why else travel by train—which sounded like the trip from hell—to spend the holidays with him?

“Jared.” His mother put her hand on his arm and whispered, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He faked a yawn. “I guess I’m tired.”

You couldn’t fool Jenna Stone. She looked toward Melanie, who was bent over the couch putting the baby back in its makeshift nest. “She’s very lovely.”

“I guess.”

“The baby isn’t Will’s, so whose is it? And where is he?”

“You’ll have to wait until Will gets home to get the answers, Mom.”

“Thank God that happens tomorrow,” she said, keeping her voice low. “But I’m calling him tonight, right after dessert.”

“Good idea.” And let me know what you find out. If he was lusting after his future sister-in-law, he damned well wanted to know.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Jenna had been anxious to talk to Joe since dinner, but there’d been dishes to wash, pie to serve and a guest who needed to get settled into bed before she fainted dead away from exhaustion. Bitty and Fluffy were upstairs listening to Dr. Laura on the radio and Jared had hustled off to hide in the barn.

“I think the boys can take care of themselves,” her uncle declared. He folded up the newspaper and set it aside. “But it’s no good telling you that because you’re going to worry, anyway.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “You saw the way he looked at her.”

“Jared?” At her nod he continued, “Yes. She’s a beautiful young woman. And if I was fifty or sixty years younger I might be looking at her like that, too.”

“But—”

“He’s a red-blooded man.”

“And she’s Will’s.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But he asked her here.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s serious about her, Jenna.” His voice grew gentle and he patted the space beside him on the leather couch. She crossed the room and sat down, then tucked her head against his shoulder.

“I know, but I worry.” The den was one of her favorite rooms in the house—and the oldest. She loved the old leather furniture and her mother-in-law’s braided rug; she had even grown fond of the elk antlers that graced the wall above the fireplace mantel. The fieldstone fireplace had kept generations of ranchers warm at night and was the place where the boys always hung their Christmas stockings, even though the tree stood in a corner of the much grander living room across the hall. She’d intended to get the tree after Will returned, so her sons would humor her and help decorate it.

“And I miss George.” She’d loved that man since her thirteenth birthday when he delivered the collie pup her parents had gotten for her from the Stone ranch. He’d been gone eight years and sometimes it felt like forever.

“Yep. G.W. was a good man.” He’d been “G.W.,” short for George William, to a generation of older men who’d known Jenna’s father-in-law as George and called his son by his initials to avoid confusion.

“He’d know what to do. Will would have told him all about this girl.” She felt the beginning of a headache coming on.

“If there was something to tell,” her uncle reminded her.

“I just wish I knew what was going on. I called Will but there was no answer. I got his damn voice mail again.”

“He’ll call back.”

“He’d better do it soon. It’s getting late and I wanted to warn him about the storm.”

“As if you have to tell a cattleman about the weather.”

She chuckled. “I have a few more things to talk about than the weather. Such as, is he serious about Melanie and where is the father of that baby?”

“She’s a pretty little thing, that baby is. Doesn’t cry much.”

“I thought she was my granddaughter when they walked in the door tonight. Part of me still wishes she was.”

“Nothing wrong with wishful thinking,” the old man declared. “But there isn’t a Stone man—dead or alive—who wouldn’t have married the mother of his child. Your Will’s cut from the same cloth.

“Jared, too.” Uncle Joe nodded his agreement. Jenna lifted her head to look at him. “You saw his face tonight, didn’t you?”

“He passed her the potatoes.”

Jenna sighed and lifted herself off the couch. She crossed the room and added another log to the fire. Her temples began to throb in earnest. “I think I’m going to take some aspirin and go to bed.”

“You do that, hon. I think I’ll wait for Jared to finish up in the barn and see if I can get him to play a hand of rummy. Where’s our houseguest? In bed for the night?”

“Settled in with the baby upstairs.” She stepped over to the window and pulled the drape back. The lights were still on in the large barn, meaning Jared was taking his sweet time doing chores. “Damn snow.”

Joe picked up his newspaper. “Go to bed and quit your worryin’.”

Good advice, of course, but easier said than done. She crossed the foyer and, careful to keep from making too much noise, headed up the stairs. Tomorrow she would decorate the banister with pine boughs and big red bows. Maybe Melanie would like to help. She seemed like the kind of young woman who enjoyed being useful, but her presence here could be a problem.

She couldn’t explain it to Joe. Not this. Jared had looked at Melanie just like his father had looked at her that night when she was sixteen and had been alone in the horse barn with him. George had kissed her—really kissed her—for the first time. The secret love of her life finally looked at her as if he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. And she was not a raving beauty, not then and not ever. But George—all grown up at the ripe old age of twenty-three—thought she was. And looked at her as if he wanted to do all those things men did with women in the romance books she’d loved reading. On her eighteenth birthday, two weeks after she’d graduated from high school, they spent a honeymoon weekend in Great Falls and she’d discovered that books couldn’t compare with the real thing.

Jenna paused at the top of the stairs. The upper level was shaped like a T, with her wing on the left, the boys’ rooms on the right and the long corridor lined with guest rooms. She used to joke that she could open a bed-and-breakfast and make extra money, if all else failed. A hundred years or so ago the Stones used all this space, but now it seemed wasteful to let them go empty. She heard the radio behind Bitty’s closed door, but it wasn’t likely to disturb the others, since Bitty’s was the first room off the stairs. Uncle Joe and Melanie were opposite each other four doors down, with Melanie using the guest room that had its own bathroom.

The baby was fussing. Jenna paused and wondered if she should knock and offer to help, but decided that the young mother could no doubt use some privacy. It wasn’t as if little Beth was her own granddaughter, after all.

And it wasn’t as if the pretty dark-haired woman was Jared’s “special” guest. Her oldest son, far more serious and quiet than Will, didn’t lose his heart easily. In fact, she wondered if he ever had.

Jenna entered her bedroom, recently redecorated in shades of white and cream, and prayed neither one of her boys would get hurt.

EVEN WHEN SHE LAY SNUGGLED under the covers, Melanie still felt as if she was on the train. Not that she’d been horizontal under a pink-and-purple flannel comforter on the train, of course, but when she closed her eyes she could almost feel the rumble of the tracks under the bed.

Beth fussed in her cradle, so Melanie stretched her arm down to rock the little pine bed. Jared, strong and silent and oh-so-capable, had carried it down from the attic, wiped it clean and proceeded to fold blankets to create a soft mattress.

He’d said one word. “There.”

She’d thanked him and he’d stridden out of her bedroom and shut the door behind him as if he wished she’d stayed put, behind a closed door, until it was time for her to go home. Obviously he thought she was here to claim his brother and he didn’t approve. And yet he’d been kind to her. Once again she’d had the strangest urge to throw herself into his arms and lean on that wide chest and hang on for dear life.

Hormones, of course, were her major problem. Not feelings of attraction for Will’s older brother. She blamed everything else on hormones, why not this?

Mel eyed the small brass clock on the nightstand. After midnight, which meant she’d been asleep for almost two hours. Beth’s fussing meant she would want to nurse again soon and Melanie felt the familiar heaviness in her breasts that came every four hours or so.

Sure enough, Beth let out a screech that wouldn’t be appeased by the rocking of her bed, and Mel scooped her up into the soft double bed, plumped the pillows against the oak headboard and fed her while snow pelted the windows on the far side of the room.

She had made the right decision by coming here. No one here felt sorry for her—if she didn’t count understandable sympathy about traveling by train with an infant. No one in this self-sufficient family felt guilty about celebrating Christmas while Melanie mourned a fiancé who died nine months ago when a plane crashed into a Kansas cornfield. No concerned relative with worried eyes had whispered, “But what are you going to do now?”

And while she loved her aunt and uncle and their daughter, Dylan, who was most likely furious with her, she didn’t intend to ruin their Christmas.

She didn’t intend to ruin anyone’s Christmas.

FOR ONE SPINE-CHILLING SECOND Jared thought the house was haunted. The soundless moving of the rocking chair, the light-colored gown, the glare of snow coming in through the living room windows and a sudden keening cry all added up to a good reason for his heart to end up in his throat.

Just for a second, of course.

But the ghostly vision was Melanie in a long robe, rocking a fussy baby in Grandmother Stone’s favorite chair.

He swore under his breath. Couldn’t the woman stay put in her own room?

Her eyes widened as she saw him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Did we wake you? I thought if we came downstairs—”

“No. I came down for something to eat.” He kept his voice low, though he didn’t know why he bothered. The baby was clearly not going to go to sleep. It kept lifting its head from its mother’s shoulder and making frustrated noises. “That is one angry kid you’ve got there.”

“No kidding.” She surprised him by smiling, which didn’t help his resolve to ignore her. “She didn’t get her temper from me, I swear.”

Then from whom? He didn’t voice the question aloud. It wasn’t his business. None of this was his business. “I thought rocking chairs were supposed to make babies go to sleep.”

“Tell her that.” Mel leaned forward and lifted herself from the chair. Her robe, a pale shade of green, looked soft. It was tied at her waist with satin strings and hung to her ankles. And she was barefoot.

“I didn’t want to make any noise,” she explained when she caught him looking at her feet.

“You’ll catch cold. Come into the den and I’ll get a fire going.” He was insane, he reminded himself. He should get back to his own room, take the stairs two at a time, lock the door. Damn Will, anyway.

“It’s almost two o’clock,” she protested, patting the baby’s back. The infant squirmed against her and let out a little cry. But her head settled on Mel’s shoulder. “We’d better try going back to bed.”

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