Nine

In her home behind the mercantile the next morning, Sidalee’s sweeping was interrupted by a knock. She set the broom aside and opened the door, surprised to find Stoker Legend on her stoop.

“Good morning. Won’t you come in?”

Stoker removed his hat. “I’d like to see the old woman you found, but if this isn’t a good time, I’ll come back.”

Sidalee smiled. “I think a visitor would do Miss Mamie good.” She led him into the small parlor, which shrank considerably with his large form, and introduced the two.

Taking a chair, Stoker leaned forward. “You remind me so much of an aunt I used to have. She died many years ago, but I really miss her.”

Miss Mamie smiled. “They say we all have twins running around.”

“You know, I think that’s true.” Stoker laughed, then grew serious. “All of my kin have passed on. It’s just me and my boys now, and they’ve all flown the coop. I get so lonely sometimes in my big old house that I think I’m going to go stark raving mad. Do you ever get lonely, Miss Mamie?”

“Oh land sakes, yes. But I have my George now.”

“Would you take pity on me and come stay in the headquarters? At least until you get well? It would feel like having my aunt back, and you can give me pointers on running the ranch. I have a feeling you might know something about that.”

“I reckon, if it would ease your loneliness.” She gave Sidalee a sad glance. “I hate to leave here.”

“I’ll come to visit often.” Sidalee gave her a reassuring hug. “It’s not like you’re moving to Montana.”

“And George?”

“Han—George will always be welcome.” Stoker rose. “I’ll get a room ready and be back to get you this afternoon.”

Sidalee leaned against the door after letting Stoker out. Happy tears trickled down her face. This was going to be a Christmas she’d remember for the rest of her days.

* * *

Fat snowflakes floated around Hank as he carried Miss Mamie to the huge barn for the Christmas Eve party. Sidalee strode at his side, making sure to keep the cold from seeping under the warm blanket he’d wrapped around his pretend mother.

“Am I too heavy, George? I can walk, you know,” Miss Mamie said.

“You’re as light as a feather, Mother.” He tightened his arms, wondering how a woman he’d never met had come to mean so much. His glance slid to Sidalee. Two women, he amended. Both had changed his life in ways he’d never dreamed back in the darkness of his cell.

Life had a funny way of turning on a man. Just when he was at his very lowest and didn’t care if he lived, Sidalee found him and gave him hope and a dream.

Music already filled the night air and anticipation hummed under his skin. Tonight he’d hold Sidalee in his arms and try his best to dance. At any rate, he’d be happy with however this turned out. Three steps from the barn door, a man galloped up on a solid black horse. He was covered in snow, and he had a piece of fur wrapped around his mouth and nose.

Stoker, Houston, and his youngest son, Sam, strode to meet the horseman. Hank smiled. This must be Luke, home at last.

Sidalee held the door and Hank stepped inside the warm barn with Miss Mamie. He sat his new mother on a chair closest to one of the fires that burned in large clay contraptions spaced along the walls. He’d seen them in Spanish yards, and they worked like an outdoor chimney that kept the fire contained, which was good with children around.

With the exception of Miss Mamie’s chair, scattered hay bales provided seating.

At the front, where the ranch hands–turned–musicians played, stood the tallest Christmas tree Hank had ever seen. It had to be at least twenty feet tall. Bare of candles or decorations, the fragrant pine appeared to hold its breath in anticipation of something grand.

He glanced around at all the people, a good portion of whom were already dancing, and part of him wanted to run. He wasn’t sure about this. Him and crowds didn’t go together.

“You look like a scared jackrabbit. Relax. Try to smile.” Sidalee took his arm. “Let’s sit down for a bit beside Miss Mamie and let you get comfortable. These people are your friends.” She let him remove her coat and he took advantage, letting his hands brush her shoulders taking it off.

The first glimpse of her dress dried the spit in his mouth. The gown fell slightly off her shoulders, made of red and green fabric with gold splashes woven throughout. “You’re breathtaking.”

Her wide smile put a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Now, you two don’t have to keep me company,” Miss Mamie scolded, waving her arm. “Get on out there and dance.”

“We will a little later, Mother.” Hank didn’t sit until Sidalee did.

They no more than got seated on a hay bale before a lot of the ranch hands wandered up to speak and to thank Hank for his help in making Christmas special for them. In some instances, they introduced him to their wives or girlfriends.

“See?” Sidalee said. “Their friendship is real.”

“I was simply doing my job. Didn’t think it was anything special.”

“It meant the world to them, Hank. A cowboy’s life is very lonely, with family often living a long way off. Sometimes they don’t get together but once every couple of years.” She leaned close. “See the woman in the pretty pink dress dancing with that cowboy?”

He followed her eyes. “They look really young.”

“She gave birth a month ago and their baby almost didn’t make it. But here they are, ready to celebrate.”

Stoker and his sons entered with Houston’s and Sam’s pretty wives. Hank had met the women the previous day and liked them both. If that man who rode in was the third son, he hung back behind his father, removing his black leather gloves. Maybe he didn’t like crowds any better than Hank.

Hank stood as Stoker aimed the group toward him.

“Thought you should meet the man you worked so hard to find. Hank, meet Luke—my boy,” Stoker boomed in his commanding voice.

“Hank, thanks for tracking me down.” Luke shook his hand. “It was probably just a job, but it meant everything to me. I don’t get to come very often.”

“Glad to help.” Hank met the dark eyes of the mysterious man and saw the deep sadness and pain that Sidalee had mentioned. The low-slung gun around his hips wasn’t there for appearance. Luke was a gunslinger and had more in common with Hank than he’d ever imagined. “I hope you plan on a long visit. Your father misses you.”

A tiny grin flickered then faded as Luke’s gaze lit on Stoker, who’d moved to chat with Miss Mamie. “Maybe one day I can come and stay. For now, it’s not healthy for him or my brothers.”

“You remember Sidalee?” Hank asked, drawing her into the conversation.

“Of course.” Luke lifted her hand to his lips. “Always a pleasure, Miss Sidalee. I think you’ve gotten even prettier than the last time I saw you.”

A pretty blush stained Sidalee’s cheeks. “Luke, you’re a silver-tongued devil. It’s good to have you home. Will you stay awhile?”

“Can’t. Too much—” Luke turned when Stoker called. “Looks like I need to go.” He thanked Hank again and moved to join his father.

“I see what you mean, Sidalee,” Hank said. “Luke is lost. I hope he finds what he’s looking for.”

He’d wanted to tell Luke he’d fight beside him if he ever needed him to. They’d obviously both ridden fifty miles of hard road. But he’d saved his words for another time.

The band struck up a waltz. Hank turned to her. “Care to try to dance?”

With the light casting red and golden glints in her hair, Sidalee floated into his arms. That same soft light brought out the blue of her eyes as she tilted her face to meet his gaze. The lady—his lady—had put a spell on him.

Hank had trouble swallowing. She was all he’d ever dreamed of finding. He tightened his arm around her and murmured against her hair, “Who knew when I landed in your bed that it would lead to this? I’ve waited a long time for this moment, and I pity anyone who tries to dance with you.”

A smile teased her lips. “Will you fight them for me?”

Hank tucked her hand against his heart. “I’ll beat them to a bloody pulp.”

“Oh my!”

“You light a fire inside me. I can’t sleep, eat, or work for thinking about you. You’ve ruined me, lady.”

“If that’s a complaint—”

“I can assure you, it’s not that.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her as he would a priceless treasure, which she was to him.

They swayed from side to side, lost in each other, and had no idea the music had stopped until Stoker’s booming voice penetrated Hank’s daze.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s only for a bit. We’ll have lots more dancing after we trim the tree.”

Hank broke his hold and turned, feeling heat flood his face. “Sorry, boss.”

Stoker chuckled. “I was young once too. But now that I have everyone’s attention, I have a few words. This Christmas is very special to me because I have all my sons here for the first time. That wouldn’t have been possible without Hank Destry’s perseverance. I know he helped a good many of you too. Let’s give him a round of applause.”

Hating the attention, Hank wanted to duck his head. But instead, he raised an arm and thanked them.

“This Christmas is extra special for another reason. I want you all to meet a woman who reminds me of a favorite aunt I used to have. She’s staying with me for a bit.” He helped Miss Mamie from the chair next to him. “This is Miss Mamie Tabor. That big old house is less lonesome now.”

People whooped and hollered. The old woman smiled happily, but her panic-stricken eyes searched for Hank. When she located him, she was all right. Hank waved and blew her a kiss.

After the noise settled down, Stoker went on, “Now, let’s get back to business. It’s been a long-held tradition here on the Lone Star to trim the Christmas tree together. As a family. Because that’s what we are. This ranch wouldn’t prosper without every single one of you, and thank God I’m smart enough to know it. The decorations are all here.” He pointed where Sam, Houston, and Luke were opening boxes. “Let’s make this tree the biggest and best we’ve ever had.”

“Does he do this every Christmas?” Hank asked.

Sidalee grinned. “Yep. Do you see what you’ve become a part of? This tradition makes us all stronger. A lot of the men here are far from family. Some, like us, have no family. Celebrating together helps fill those voids.” She tugged on his hand. “Come on.”

Overcome with emotion, Hank stared as everyone rushed forward like excited children. He’d never seen anything like this or known a place like the Lone Star even existed.

He followed Sidalee but stopped to speak to Miss Mamie first. “Are you getting tired? Too cold?”

“I’m perfect, son.” She took his hand and laid it on her cheek. “Everything is wonderful because you’re here. Please don’t ever go away and leave me again, George.”

“I won’t, Mother. Are you comfortable at headquarters with Stoker?”

She pulled him down. “It’s real nice and all, but I miss Sidalee’s cozy house. That bed is like sleeping on a cloud.”

“I agree…uh, not that I know. I’ll have to take your word for it.” He lovingly brushed back some wispy silver strands that reminded him of his grandmother’s hair. “Tell me when you get tired, and I’ll take you back to your room.”

“I ain’t going to miss the tree lighting. Will you sit beside me, son?”

“I wouldn’t dream of sitting anywhere else.” He searched for Sidalee and contentment washed over him when he spotted her. “I’m going to help decorate so we can finish faster. Send someone for me if you need anything.”

The old widow cackled and pointed. “Look at those fool dogs. They’re trying to dance.”

Following her gaze, Hank groaned. Beau and a cute little dog Houston had called Sissie turned around and around on their hind legs.

Hank rolled his eyes. He was going to have to have a talk with that Lothario.

Giving Miss Mamie a nod, Hank grabbed as many candle holders and as much tinsel as he could carry. With probably fifty or sixty people lending a hand, it didn’t take long to finish.

Hank had no trouble locating Sidalee, because his gaze never left her, and asked, “What happens next?”

“We form two circles, an outer and inner, so all the people can fit. Then we sing while Stoker and his sons light the candles on the tree. I noticed you talking to Miss Mamie. Is she all right?”

“She seems to feel good. I promised we’d sit with her. I hope you didn’t have any plans.” He should’ve asked her first and would’ve, if she’d been there. He wasn’t going to make a habit of speaking for her. For years, he’d watched other men do that and it belittled their wives.

Wives. The thought of Sidalee maybe someday agreeing to be his wife sent a rush of warmth through him.

“There’s no place I’d rather be. You should know that by now.” Sidalee ran her fingers across his jaw.

“When this is over, I want to go someplace to talk.” He had lots on his mind, and this was the night for it.

While the people were still forming a large circle and holding hands, Hank lifted Miss Mamie’s chair and sat her in the line with the rest. No one should be left out at Christmas. After the opening chords of “Silent Night,” everyone began to sing—one voice, one grateful heart, one spirit of friendship.

One candle at a time, the Christmas tree came to life. The tinsel glittered like stars under the glow. Hank didn’t think he’d ever forget this moment. He’d yearned for a place to belong with every fiber of his being—one place where he’d be welcome—and he’d finally found it one snowy night.

They continued the song until Stoker and his sons finished and joined them in the outer circle for several more verses. Hank’s gaze went to Luke. It could’ve been the light that made Hank think tears filled the gunslinger’s eyes, but he didn’t think so. Tears also filled Stoker’s as he looked at his boys.

Damn, Hank missed his father. If he could just have one more day with him, and his mother too.

All too soon the celebration ended. Hank asked Sidalee to wait until he carried Miss Mamie home.

She grinned. “You must be crazy to think I’d let you go without me.”

He helped her into her coat, and after bundling Miss Mamie up good and proper, they carried her to her bed. Sidalee got her into a nightgown and tucked her in. Then Hank went in to give her a good-night kiss. He stared down at the frail woman who needed a reason for living, and warmth flowed through him, thinking that he’d given her that. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t her son by blood. He was, where it counted most. He kissed her cheek and promised to see her in the morning for breakfast.

“Wait just a minute.” Miss Mamie pointed to a drawer. “George, open that and get out a leather pouch.”

Hank glanced at Sidalee and complied.

Miss Mamie took out two rocks and handed them to him. “For your trouble. They aren’t much, but I want you to have them. Your father and I used to pretend they were gold.”

Taking them, Hank held the rocks to the light, turning them this way and that. “They’re not gold, Mother—they’re raw silver. Where did you get these?”

“In New Mexico territory, where we lived for a time. Albert said they weren’t worth anything. Why?”

“Mother, you’re sitting on a fortune, if you have more.”

“Are you sure, Hank?” Sidalee asked.

“I’m positive. The warden put me to work digging silver out of a hillside. I know what it looks like.”

Miss Mamie leaned on an elbow. “I have two large sacks of these in my old wagon where it broke down. I’m sure they’re still there.”

“When this weather clears up, I’ll ride out and get them.” Hank put the silver back in the leather pouch. “Hang on to this. You’re rich, Mother.”

Sidalee patted Miss Mamie’s leg. “What do you think about that?”

“Take the rocks and make a wedding ring, George. I have a suspicion you might need one.” Miss Mamie rested her head on the pillow. “I found my son. I’m already the richest woman on earth.”

* * *

Outside the house, with snow gently falling around them, Hank took Sidalee in his arms. The embers he’d banked earlier flared, sending hunger like he’d never known through him.

Sidalee tilted her head back to meet his lips and leaned into him, her mouth slightly parted.

Hank let his fingers trail down the column of her slender throat. The kiss shattered everything inside him. For a moment the world silenced and stopped turning. They were safe in a cocoon where nothing else existed—not time or space or other people. Just the two of them and this impossible love they’d found.

He broke the kiss with a murmured, “Lady, I love you. I can finally say the words.”

A grin curved her lips. “I was in no hurry. You showed me how you felt, and actions are far more lasting than words.”

“There’ll be no need to sit on me to keep me in your bed, or mine. I’m saying that I want you there beside me—under the covers this time. For real. No pretending. And this will be for all of time until it runs out.” He took her hand and tapped a message on her palm. “Do you know what I just asked?”

She tilted her head to one side. “Are you proposing?”

“I’m not doing a very good job of it if you have to ask,” he growled teasingly. “If you want me to do it proper on one knee and all, we’ll have to get where it’s warmer.”

“Oh, Hank.” She took his hand and tapped out a reply. “Do you get my answer?”

“To be clear—you are saying yes?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll sleep beside you for the rest of my life. Just one request.”

“Anything.”

“I have to keep my deluxe Queen Anne bed, model number 24.”

He lifted her high and swung her around, whooping with happy laughter. Lowering her, he found her lips for a searing kiss that left no doubt about the depth of his love.

Everything he’d lost in the dark gloom of a prison cell, he found here on the Lone Star Ranch one snowy Christmas Eve where family, tradition, and love abounded.

He was finally home.