Malachite (The Jewels of Texas Historical Romance Series Book 5) by Ruth Ryan Langan

Author:Ruth Ryan Langan [Langan, Ruth Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: western romance, New York Times Bestselling Author, Historical Romance
Publisher: Ruth Ryan Langan
Published: 2016-09-08T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Here we are.” In the bitter cold and swirling snow, Malachite’s calm, deep voice was reassuring as he brought the horse to a halt.

Dazed, confused, Millie peered into the darkness. “This can’t be Hanging Tree. There are no lights. No buildings.”

“We were too far from town. You needed shelter immediately.” He helped the little girls down, then reached up for her.

She sank gratefully into his arms.

For the space of a heartbeat he held her close and pressed his lips to her hair. Then he set her on her feet and led the way through the drifts.

Millie stared in surprise. “Why, we’re back where we started. This is the Jewel ranch house.”

“That’s right.” He leaned into the door and forced it open, then reached down and picked up little June, who had dropped onto the steps, too exhausted to walk.

Inside, he gathered them around the fireplace and began to stir the dying embers. Soon, with logs and kindling, he had a roaring fire started.

“I’ll find some blankets.” He turned to Millie. “See that the girls strip off those wet clothes.”

When he returned with the blankets, the three girls were bundled into them and settled comfortably in front of the fire.

“You, too.” With a stern look he held out a blanket to Millie.

“I’d like to fix them something to eat first.”

“I’ll see to it. Now strip off those wet things or I’ll do it for you.”

She knew, by the roughness of his tone, that he meant it. Too tired to argue, she did as she was told.

A short time later she sat huddled near the hearth, surrounded by her daughters. Even talking seemed too much effort. And so they sat, staring at the flames, allowing the warmth to slowly seep back into their bones.

The air became perfumed with the fragrance of coffee and biscuits and something wonderful bubbling over the fire.

Malachite summoned them to the table and began ladling stew into bowls. He filled two cups with coffee and sat down beside Millie.

“This is delicious,” she said. “What is it?”

“Plain old rabbit stew.”

Malachite glanced toward the three little girls, who were making a valiant effort to eat. But after only a few bites, weariness won out over hunger. Their little heads bobbed. They rested their cheeks on their hands and closed their eyes.

“I wonder if this says something about my cooking,” he muttered.

“Poor things.” Millie studied them with a look of love. “They were trying so hard to be brave.”

“Like their mother.” He brushed a lock of damp hair from her cheek, allowing his hand to linger a moment.

It was an achingly sweet gesture that had her wanting to clutch his hand and hold it to her. Instead she sat very still, absorbing the tenderness of the moment.

“Come on.” He shoved back his chair and got to his feet. “You know this house better than I do. Show me where you’d like them to sleep and I’ll carry them to bed.”

He lifted little June and trailed Millie up the stairs.

“Let’s put them in Diamond’s old room.

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