Janet Tronstad - Mail-Order Holiday Brides - Home for Christmas / Snowflakes for Dry Creek

“That would be an improvement.” Elijah donned his hat, burst onto the boardwalk and his boots took him straight to the sheriff.

“No one is looking for the boy. As far as I can tell, no one knows who he is,” Clint said, jabbing his hands into his coat pockets. “Angel Falls is a small enough town—someone ought to know him.”

“So where does that leave us?” He couldn’t abandon the boy. Hard to forget how the kid had sobbed, face pressed against Elijah’s chest. “Maybe the doc can keep him at the clinic overnight?”

“That’d be best. I’ll leave a note on the office door, in case his parents decide to come looking for him.” Clint tipped his hat, taking a step back. “Talk to you later, Elijah.”

“Later.” Snow bit his cheeks and swirled in a furious dance down the dark, empty street. His thoughts should have stayed on the kid, but his gaze wandered to where lit windows in the boardinghouse glowed faintly through the storm.

Christina’s angelic face filled his mind. Remembering her light chestnut locks and her willowy grace, the light she brought to his battered heart returned.

She’s not yours, he reminded himself. If only that could keep his soul from wishing.

He stomped the snow from his boots and yanked open the clinic door. “Doc? Want me to grab some supper?”

“That’s a fine idea.” The doctor toweled off the boy’s face with a practiced hand. “Since I’ve got a patient for the night, we’d best feed him. I’ll send word to my nurse. She’ll be the one staying with him, once I get settled.”

“Sounds good.” Elijah leaned against the door frame, studying the boy who lay as stiff as a board, staring hollowly at the wall. “Too bad the kid isn’t talking. Yep, it’s a shame. I won’t be able to know what he wants for supper. Should I get him liver and onions? Boiled pig’s feet soup? Or a tripe sandwich, maybe?”

“Order him the soup.” Sam winked. “There’s nothing more appetizing than seeing a swine hoof in your soup bowl.”

“True enough.” Elijah winked back, but the boy didn’t stir. Hard not to notice the ragged clothes, or a string holding the leather toe to the sole of one shoe. A suspicion about the child lodged between Elijah’s ribs, making it hard to breathe as he pushed away from the door. “I’ll be back, Doc, with that soup and maybe a tripe sandwich or two.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Sam assured him, fetching clean long johns out of a nearby drawer, which looked as if they might fit the boy.

The kid was too little to be on his own, Elijah thought to himself as he left the warmth and light for the dark and storm. Icy wind needled through his clothes as he faced into the wind. He met no one as he hurried down the snowy boardwalk, past businesses closed for the night and into the light shining from the boardinghouse.

He walked past a long row of windows, blazing brightly. A potbellied stove glowed red-hot in the room where a dozen tables lined the walls, filled with diners. Mildred spotted him through the window and waved, signaling him to hurry on in.

“There you are.” Her smile put pink into her appled cheeks. “I wondered where you got to. It’s roast beef tonight, your favorite. I talked the cook into making those mashed potatoes you like.”

“Mildred, you are a treasure, but I’m sort of still on duty.” He thought of the homeless boy, rigid with fear. He knew what that was like. Long-ago memories threatened to whisper to the surface but he clamped them down in time. “Could you wrap up—”

That’s as far as he got. Words failed him when Christina Eberlee waltzed from a shadowed stairwell and into sight. Her lustrous brown hair held highlights of nutmeg that gleamed like the finest silk in the candlelight and framed her ivory face to perfection. “You.” Surprise crinkled her soft forehead. “What do I have to do to get rid of you, Marshal?”

“Don’t know, ma’am. Perhaps take a flyswatter to me?”

“I’ll keep it in mind for next time.” Humor crooked her lush mouth upward. Her blue skirts swished around her ankles as she came to a stop in front of the tea service, halfway across the lobby. Without the bulk of the coat he’d always seen her in before, she looked even tinier. Slender, petite, as delicate as china.

He towered over her like Goliath. “I thought you were staying at the hotel.”

“Change of plans.” Her smile didn’t dim. “What’s your excuse?”

“I live on the top floor, for now, but I’ve been looking to buy a house.” He swept off his hat, realizing too late he’d left it on too long. A gentleman would have taken it off sooner.

“Miss Eberlee, you know our illustrious marshal?” Mildred waved the younger woman over. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I didn’t know he lived here.” Christina waltzed over. “Buying a house sounds like a big step.”

“I’m ready to settle down, plus this town feels like home.” He wanted her to know she’d come to a good place. He hoped she liked Angel Falls as much as he did. “Folks are friendly, going to church is like being with family and this piece of Montana is beautiful. Can’t go wrong by living here.”

“See? That’s another good sign from our Lord. I’ve been doing a lot of praying lately. Some days it’s tough to have faith that hard times will turn into good.” She drew in a little breath, as if grasping on to determination. “It really has to be changing for the better.”

“That’s my wish for you.” He knew that when he knelt to say his prayers tonight, they would be for her.

“How is the boy?” she asked. “With his parents by now?”

“No one’s come for him, and he’s not talking.” Elijah’s jaw tightened at the sad situation.

“Why don’t I show you to a table, just the two of you?” Mildred offered, charging toward the open dining room doors. “You can keep chatting while I fetch your meals.”

“Oh, no.” Christina took a step back. “I only came up for tea.”

“No supper? But you must eat, dearie.” Mildred looked stricken. “The kitchen closes in an hour. We don’t stay open later like the hotel.”

“I have a better idea,” Elijah said. It was easy to see the problem. He guessed that Christina didn’t have any money for supper. “Mildred, wrap up four roast beef suppers and a jug of hot tea. Doc has a patient staying at the clinic, and Christina is going to join us.”

“I am?”

He wanted to do this the right way, so she wouldn’t feel awkward about eating with them. “Neither Doc or I can get the kid talking. Maybe he’ll open up to you where he doesn’t trust us. Think of the meal as payment for your help.”

“Oh.” Her forehead crinkled as she considered his offer. “Fine, although I’m not sure it will be a fair bargain.”

“True. Doc and I are getting the better part of the deal.”

“You are a charmer. I’m going to have to keep my eye on you, Marshal.” She looked up at him through dark lashes and his heart tumbled.

A harmless tumble, he told himself. Being sweet on a lady was no crime as long as he didn’t wish for more.

“That’s me, a real charmer. I haven’t beaued a lady since I was twenty.” His throat worked—even after a dozen years the loss hurt. It had become vague, it had become distant but Darcy had been his first love. As it turned out, his only chance for love and a family. “Trust me, I’m so far out of practice I’m no threat to the lovely ladies of Angel Falls.”

“I wouldn’t say that was true.” She sparkled up at him, her kindness capturing him. As if he wasn’t caught enough.

“Four meals, ready to go.” Mildred barreled in with the packages wrapped in thick paper. “And a crock of hot tea. You bring back the dishes, Marshal. I’ve got my eye on you.”