Christmas Male Read online

  Christmas Male

  By Jillian Hart

  Copyright 2013 by Jill Strickler

  http://jillianhart.net

  Cover Design by Kim Killion, Hot Damn Designs

  http://hotdamndesigns.com

  E-book Formatted by Jessica Lewis, Authors’ Life Saver

  http://authorslifesaver.com

  Editing by Jena O’Connor, Practical Proofing

  http://practicalproofing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Montana Territory, December 21, 1886

  This was it! The day she was going to start her great adventure. Maggie Carpenter shivered with anticipation and gave her knit scarf a tug, tightening it more snugly around her neck.

  Sure, it might be freezing out, but she didn't care that she couldn't feel her nose or her toes—well, even her fingertips for that matter. And why? Because she was about to hop aboard the waiting train, the one blowing steam into the crystal blue sky, and meet a man who was actually excited to marry her, a spinster who all her neighbors said was past her prime.

  Well, twenty-two was not too old to marry, clearly, as she was doing it. She'd found a man who didn't care that she was past her prime (as the two bachelors in their little town had told her). And she was really, really looking forward to all the exciting things that marriage would mean (especially the sex). She mentally waggled her brows. She'd heard plenty of things about the marriage bed from Callie, her sister who'd gotten married three months ago. And to be truthful, it had made Maggie really, really interested in wedded bliss. A girl should have that kind of toe-curling excitement in her life all the time. That was one thing Maggie wouldn't mind, not one bit.

  "This is a mistake." Emma, her oldest sister, stalked up to her on the platform, her steps brusque and her lovely face pressed into prune-like disapproval. "If you must get married— and there's no good reason for that, by the way—why can't you find a nice farmer around here? Someone you could meet and let him court you instead of choosing a perfect stranger."

  "Look how well it worked out for Callie." Maggie knelt down to rescue her satchel from the icy boards at her feet. Her dress gave a little swirl around her.

  She'd made it especially for her trip, so that when she stepped off the train in Pine Haven, her husband-to-be's first view of her would be of this gorgeous red calico, princess-style dress with satin trim and lace. The shade really made the reddish highlights in her golden hair shine. All her sisters, even Emma, said it was a flattering shade. Maggie wanted to impress Chester the way he'd impressed her in his thoughtful and ardent letters.

  "If you remember correctly, Callie didn't marry the man she corresponded with," Emma reminded her tersely. "He turned out to have exaggerated his desirability. I would hate for that to happen to you."

  "There's no chance of that." Maggie shook her head, scattering her blond locks, not troubled by her oldest sister's practicality. Oh no, she was very used to Emma's taciturn ways and dire predictions. Besides, she had faith in Chester's goodness and sincerity. Her heart warmed, thinking of his sweet written confessions. "There isn't a more wonderful man in all of Montana Territory. He's sweet and sensitive and open with his feelings. He's been nothing but honest with me."

  "As far as you know." Emma clamped her lips together until they disappeared entirely and didn't say another thing. Probably because their two other sisters were running across the platform, their breaths rising in great white clouds in the winter air as they skidded to a stop on the platform.

  "We almost forgot to give you this." Abby held out a sheet of folded parchment. Abby, dressed in blue from her knit cap down to her dress ruffle, gave a little excited hop. A blond curl slipped down and bounced against her cheek. "Don't read it until you're on the train."

  "Yeah," Dee seconded, the youngest of the bunch, her blue eyes shining with excitement. "This way you take a little bit of us with you."

  "I already am." Maggie slipped the parchment into her reticule and laid a hand over her heart. "You all are right here."

  "Which means we're not really parting at all." A momentary sadness slipped across Abby's oval face. "It's just physical distance. That's all. Nothing can ever separate us at heart."

  "That's right. I'm going to miss you, Maggie." Dee rushed in to wrap her in a hug. "I'm so excited for you, but it's sad that things are changing."

  "Remember, they are changing for the better." Maggie gave Dee, her adorable little sister, an extra squeeze and stepped back, feeling teary too. "First Callie went away to get married, and now it's my turn. Maybe you or Abby will be next."

  "It'll be Abby." Dee blew out a sigh, blond and as cute as a button. Only nineteen, but she'd turned down every farmer who'd come courting. "I'm looking for someone spectacular."

  "Aren't we all?" Abby joked with a wink. "I have to say, after seeing the handsome man our sister wound up with, I am seriously considering the mail-order bride route. If I could wind up with someone as amazing and, well, as physically gratifying..."

  "Enough!" Emma rolled her eyes to the sky as if she couldn't take any more talk of the marriage bed. They'd traveled to attend Callie's wedding and had learned all kinds of very interesting and tantalizing tidbits of information about what really happened between a man and a woman in bed.

  Yes, Maggie thought, her heart giving an extra thump. Very tantalizing. After all, a girl had needs for love and comfort and companionship—and physical intimacy. Why not find a man who could fulfill all of her needs quite, uh, completely?

  "All aboard!" the conductor bellowed, his breath rising in great puffs as the wind gusted hard. A few tiny snowflakes danced in the air, warning of the storm to come.

  "Well, this is it." Maggie took one last look at her sisters—slender and spare Emma, bubbly Abby, sweet Dee. It was a lot to leave behind, but the hope for love—real love, the kind she remembered their dear, late parents had shared—that's what drove her. "Promise to write me. We have to stay in touch. I want to know everything that happens while I'm gone."

  "Yeah," Abby laughed, waggling her brows. "So do we."

  "Honestly." Emma looked scandalized. "Must we discuss this in public where anyone can hear? Have a safe trip, Maggie. I hope this Chester fellow is as honest as he's led you to believe. If not, write and I'll send you money for a ticket home."

  "You worry too much, I'll be fine.
" She hugged Emma first, then Abby, then Dee. "I'll be happy."

  "That's what we want for you." Abby swiped a tear from her eye as Maggie tripped away, where the conductor frowned at her as if women and their goodbyes went on far too long—and he didn't tolerate anything that messed with his train schedule.

  "Have fun!" Dee called out, blushing slightly. "Lots of fun."

  "Dee!" Emma had clamped her lips together again until, they were a straight, disapproving line.

  Poor Emma, Maggie thought as she scampered up to the train.

  "Dear! Oh, dear, dear Maggie!" Miss Shutes called out, shrill and echoing above all the other conversations on the small platform. Maggie turned around to see the rail-thin, middle-aged woman dashing toward her, her face fashioned into a look of prideful sympathy.

  "It was nice of you to come and say goodbye." Maggie turned, stepping out of the way of the steps as the conductor gave a dismissive frown of disapproval. "Thank you, Blanche."

  "Oh, it was the least I could do." Her former employer rushed up to wrap her in a bony, abrupt hug. "It's a desperate thing to marry a man just because you're afraid of being too old. Look at me. I'm a spinster, happy with my life. I don't need no man to tell me what to do."

  "No, ma'am, you certainly don't, but the things I truly want can come only from a man's love." She glanced across the platform where a grandmother disembarked from the train, and a little family scampered up to meet her. Two little children, maybe two and three years of age wrapped their arms around her knees, holding on, so happy to see Grammy. Maggie's heart tugged with longing. "You see, I must leave. I have a loving man waiting for me."

  "Huh, loving and men are two words that don't usually go together, but I wish you well." Miss Shutes backed off, her tone saying that she doubted anything good would come of this. "Goodbye."

  The conductor cleared his throat, so Maggie scampered up the steps and into the passenger car. She felt watched and glanced over her shoulder, smiling at her sisters clustered on the platform. Abby waved back, Dee gave a little happy hop of excitement, but Emma merely frowned, dark with disapproval.

  It was hard not to feel sorry for her oldest sister, Maggie thought as she hurried into the car. Once Emma was old enough to leave the orphanage, she'd worked two jobs. It was her sweat, blood and tenacity that had gotten them out of the orphanage one by one. That strain and responsibility had shaped Emma, maybe robbed her of her joy and her softness. Well, maybe there would be a man who would come along and help her find those things again. Maybe there would be a happy-ending for them.

  That hope sustained her, made it easier to force her feet down the aisle, because part of her wanted to rush straight out of the car and back into her sisters' arms. Partings were never easy, but thinking of what waited for her on the other side of Montana Territory strengthened her. She found an empty seat, dropped her satchel on the cushion beside her and peered out the window.

  Snow was falling fast now in tiny, airy flakes driving on a hard wind. She shivered, watching it fall so fast, sticking to everything in sight, even her sisters. Emma, Abby and Dee waved, but she hardly had a chance to wave back as the train jerked to a start and they were rolling away, leaving the platform and all she loved behind. Sadness hit her hard and she hung her head, blinking back tears.

  More love waited ahead of her, and that made the ache in her heart lessen. She reached into her reticule and pulled out Chester's latest letter.

  My deer deer bride to be, (he wasn't a good speller)

  Cant wate to meet u. U ar my dreem com tru and al my happynes. Cant wate to treet u lik a kween. U ar my hart.

  Al the luv in the wurld,

  Chester

  Maggie's hand landed on her heart again. Oh, her dear, dear, Chester. Love filled her, that amazing affection that had grown right from his very first letter. How could she not have been taken by the humble, hard-working man who'd raised two brothers after their father's death? He'd left school when he was eleven to work in the mines to support his family. That commitment right there had told her everything she needed to know about the man. He'd worked hard, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, to be a part owner of the lumber mill where he now worked.

  Over the past few months, his younger brothers had both written her, describing him as good looking, even handsome, modest and an incredible man. A man longing for a wife and family in a part of the territory where marriageable women were few and far between.

  As she traced her fingertips across Chester's written words, joy flooded her chest, made the love she felt for him glow. She gazed out the window, watching the snow fall, and let herself dream. Oh, the happy life she and Chester were going to have together. She couldn't wait.

  Chapter One

  Pine Haven, Montana Territory

  Miles McClintock had worse days. It wasn't blizzarding, for instance. He wasn't caught and dying in an avalanche. He wasn't standing at the altar in front of family and friends waiting for his bride who never came—

  Hell, he wasn't gonna think about that ever again. He ground his molars together, drove the ax into the ponderosa pine that had fallen across the road to town, and cursed himself for even thinking of her. He'd banished that day, that woman from his brain forever. He would take a hot poker to his head and scorch those memories from his mind for an eternity to come—if it were possible.

  As it wasn't, he drove the ax blade deep into the tree's bark, into the heart of the wood. Bright honey rings stared back at him, as he extracted the blade. Another two blows and the tree broke in two. Miles swiped snow from his lashes, tossed the ax in the back of the wagon box and remembered his days living in Manhattan. New York City didn't often get snow quite as deep as this, and he'd never had to cut a tree out of the road before he could head to the mercantile, but being out West had its merits. Mostly, that his friends and most of his family were not here. Their caring sympathy had nearly done him in. No, Montana Territory was a better place to be, trees, copious snow and all.

  "Hey, what's the hold up?" an impatient male voice shouted from behind Big Jack, who swiped his tail and lifted his head most alarmingly. The giant draft gelding sidestepped nervously in his traces.

  That could only mean one thing. The Collins brothers. Miles bit back a groan, grabbed hold of a sturdy branch and heaved with all his might. The top half of the fallen tree eked incrementally across the snow behind him. Damn, it was heavy.

  "Yeah, get that big-assed horse outta the road!" Another equally obnoxious voice yodeled through the air.

  Drunk. The permanent state of the Collins men. Miles rolled his eyes, dug in his boots and heaved with all his strength. Half of the giant tree inched off the road.

  "Make way!" One of the Collinses bellowed.

  "Comin' through." A second Collins roared.

  Miles frowned. What was wrong with those folks? If he wanted noise, he would have stayed in New York City instead of retreating all the way out here to the middle of nowhere. He dropped the branch, the tree rustled to a rest on the snowy shoulder of the road and the Collins' sorry looking gelding, the one they'd won in a poker tournament, ambled into the ditch around Big Jack, doggedly pulling the sled loaded with Collins men. No saying why the sled didn't turn over on the slope, but there was nothing like the luck of the drunk.

  "Got to get to the whiskey," Chester Collins explained as he drove past, clutching the reins in a loose-limbed, absent sort of way.

  Little wonder the gelding didn't take advantage and run like hell for Canada just to escape. Heaven knew he would. Miles didn't bother to tip his hat in greeting, as was the custom in this part of the country. He didn't think well enough of the Collins brothers to go to the bother.

  "Pompous jackass," Delbert Collins mumbled to his brothers. "Thinks he's better'n us."

  "Well, anyone would be better than you, Del," Lester Collins joked, slapping his brother upside the head. The three inebriated brothers roared hilariously, their sled skidding down the snowy road and out of sight.

&
nbsp; "Jackasses." Another male voice rang out dismissively. Winston McClintock circled around the far side of Big Jack. Only then did Miles notice his father's horse and sleigh in the road parked where the Collins brothers had been. "I thought we'd escaped all the fools in the world by coming out here, but I'm learning there's bound to be at least one anywhere you go."

  "Or three." Miles nodded in brief greeting to his father, grabbed hold of the other half of the tree and heaved. The pine groaned, the heavy trunk didn't seem to want to budge. "Are you going to stand there or help me?"

  "Guess I'll have to do something since you put it like that." An amused grin hooked the corner of Pa's mouth. A man past his prime, but he didn't look it. Winston McClintock grabbed hold of a thick branch and pulled. "I was hoping to conserve energy. At my age, moving something like this will burst a muscle."

  "And not at my age?" Miles asked wryly, aware of every one of his thirty-five years as his muscles burned.

  "Ah, you're young, got plenty of good years yet." Winston winked as the tree moved one more foot and they both released it. It rustled and shook, tucked up against the steep hillside. "I didn't know you were heading to town or I would have offered you a ride."

  "It was a last minute decision." Miles dusted the snow off his gloves, pounding through the snow toward Big Jack. "I thought I could make the train, but looks like now I might miss it."

  "Got your book done, did you?" Winston hurried to keep up. "Haven't seen you for the past week. Spending all your time locked up in that room scribbling away isn't smart. You can't live your life that way."

  "Why not? It's working fine for me." Miles's defenses went up, he could feel thick, iron-hard bars wrapping around his chest. He didn't let anyone in, not even his father. "I'm happy."

  "Son, you aren't happy. You're existing but not living." Concerned furrows dug into Winston's face, drawing deep lines around his mouth and emphasizing the network of grooves around his hazel eyes. "You need to get out there and find another woman, marry her, start your life over again."