A Christmas Waltz. Jane Goodger

Carson was full of charm and smiles, Boone so serious. She was quite certain she hadn’t seen a smile from him since her arrival. Still, she had to admit he had a quiet appeal. If she wasn’t in love with Carson, she would probably better appreciate Boone’s dark beauty. His hair was the color of rich chocolate and cut rather short, unlike Carson with his wild mane of blond waves. Boone’s eyes were deep gray and fringed with long, dark lashes, while Carson’s were blue with reddish gold lashes. And Carson had that wonderfully rich mustache, while Boone was clean-shaven.

      Amelia knew Boone was the older brother, but he looked ten years younger than Carson. Yes, it was hard to believe her untamed, strong cowboy was brother to this neat and solemn man sitting across from her.

      “Did you see Carson?” she asked before taking another mouthful. It really was the most wonderful stew.

      Boone looked down at his steepled hands as if he’d suddenly become aware he’d been staring. “No.”

      “I’ll have to tell him he’s been exceedingly impolite disappearing like this,” she said lightly. “I feel rather abandoned.” Amelia looked up and found Boone staring at her again. It was quite disconcerting, actually.

      “Do I have something on my face?”

      Boone looked slightly startled. “No.”

      “Then why are you staring at me like that?”

      Boone opened his mouth as if to deny he’d been staring, but shut it and let out a short, impatient breath. “I just can’t figure out what you’re doing here.”

      Amelia decided to ignore that rude comment. “I’m eating,” Amelia said, being purposefully difficult.

      “I mean,” Boone said with forced calm, “what in God’s name made you think it would be a good idea to marry my brother?”

      Amelia hardly thought Boone was being very brotherly at the moment. “Your brother is charming and handsome and intelligent. Qualities that were apparently given out sparingly in the Kitteridge family.” She lifted her chin smugly. “And he loves me.”

      Boone had been looking at her with an expression one could only describe as complete bafflement, but at the last, he lowered his gaze. “That’s just plain stupid,” he said finally and without a bit of meanness. It was as if he were calmly informing her that she was of deficient intelligence, a gentle diagnosis from a caring doctor.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you came halfway across the world for my brother. I just don’t think a woman of high intelligence would do such a thing.”

      Amelia felt as if he’d just slapped her—that’s how stunned she was by his cavalier words. What hurt the most was that she knew, deep down inside, coming to Texas was probably the most foolish, ill-conceived, impulsive act anyone of her acquaintance had ever done. By far. But she wasn’t going to let the man sitting across from her know that. She was about to set him straight when she burst into completely unexpected tears.

      “You’re right,” she said, feeling the strain of the last weeks hit her like a tidal wave. He pressed a handkerchief into her hand and said nothing as she cried copious tears. “It’s clear that Carson wasn’t expecting me. I know that. I’m not stupid. Nor blind. And it’s just as clear he wishes I hadn’t come. He was so different back in England. Like a different man altogether. When he looked at me then, it was like I was the most important thing in the world to him. I don’t understand it. I don’t think…” She let out another sob. “I don’t think he…he…loves me at all.”

      “I wouldn’t say that,” Boone said. And Amelia looked up at him with ridiculous hope in her eyes. “He’s a man who likes his freedom. I think he likes you too much, and it scares him a little.”

      “Then why did he ask me to marry him? Why did he formally ask my brother for my hand? It was in the Times,” she said, as if that would prove to the world that Carson did, indeed, love her. Oh, how she wished Carson was here reassuring her, instead of this cold man in front of her.

      As Amelia watched, Boone’s cheeks turned ruddy and he looked down at his hands again.

      “Was it for the money?” she asked, slightly horrified by that thought. But the man across from her just gave her a confused look. “If not the money, then what? He begged me to…” She stopped. Carson hadn’t begged her to marry him, he’d begged her to make love to him. All those nights he’d kissed her and touched her and she’d push him away when he went too far, telling him over and over she would not do that until she wore his ring. She’d very nearly succumbed more than once, because, Lord, he could be so very persuasive with those hands and that mouth.

      Amelia slumped back in her chair and stared at Boone until she saw the truth in his face. “For that?”

      “I couldn’t say.”

      “But surely you suspect?”

      Boone shook his head once, almost as if avoiding a blow. “I don’t know what goes on in that boy’s head. I never have. I think you need to have a serious talk with him. Tomorrow.”

      Amelia nodded and moved a piece of carrot around the bowl with her spoon, just to give herself something to do other than cry. “Why would he do that? It can’t be true. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amelia said, her anger starting to grow. “What man would get formally engaged just for the pleasure of making love to a woman?”

      Boone gave her a strangely intense look, as if he could see right through her. “A man would,” he said softly.

      Amelia shook her head. “No. It wasn’t like that. And when I see Carson, he’ll tell me. I’m tired and weepy and for some reason you’re being cruel to someone you don’t know. I don’t even think you know your brother, either. I know him,” she said, holding her hands against her heart as fresh tears fell.

      “You’re probably right,” he said without meeting her angry gaze.

      “I know I am.” And at that moment Amelia was completely sure of herself; all the doubts she had about Carson swept away. Carson had been happy to see her, had held her and made her feel loved. No man could touch her and kiss her the way he had unless he loved her. Yes, he should be here with her now instead of his rude brother, but he was probably doing something important, something for her, no doubt. Carson was the most considerate, kind, exciting man she had ever met, and his brother was simply being contrary. And if Carson lied about certain things, it was understandable. He loved her so much, he wanted her to love him back, and probably lied about the big ranch because he knew her brother would never have agreed to their marriage otherwise.

      Amelia gave an inner grimace at that thought. Edward would be livid to know his little sister had traveled all this way only to be put in the tiny back room of a shop. She prayed her brother never found out that Carson had lied so outrageously. It had been difficult enough to get Edward to agree to allow her to marry a commoner, never mind a man who didn’t appear to have a pence to his name.

      Her brother had just married an American girl, so he’d been more lenient with her than he might have been otherwise. Edward was many things, but he certainly wasn’t a hypocrite. She’d loved him for that, for his willingness to let her follow her heart, even though it meant following it all the way to Texas. She just prayed her brother never found out that the letter she’d claimed had been from Carson sending for her had been nothing but a blank piece of paper.

      “You know how to work the pump?” Boone asked, breaking into her thoughts.

      “The pump?”

      Boone motioned to a water pump on the large kitchen sink. “Yes, of course,” Amelia said. She didn’t point out that they’d had hot and cold running water from faucets in her home, and that the only pump she’d ever used had been in their gardens.

      When she didn’t immediately move, Boone nodded toward her bowl. “I’ve got to return that tonight or George will have a fit.”