Rhonda Gibson - A Convenient Christmas Bride

He cupped his hands around his face and pressed his nose against the cold windowpane. His breath fogged up the glass. Josiah wiped away the condensation. Could it be an animal? Had his horse gotten out of the barn into the snow and cold? Josiah grunted, tempted to leave the beast to his own devices, but he wasn’t a coldhearted man and knew it was a disgruntled thought he’d never act upon. A lawman’s horse was as important to him as his right arm.

At the door, he eased his warm feet out of his slippers and into heavy boots. He pulled his fur jacket off the coatrack, thrust his arms inside and then put on gloves. Pulling his hat down tight on his head and wrapping a long woolen scarf around his face, Josiah stepped out into the freezing, swirling snowstorm.

Gripping the rope he’d tied from the rail of the porch to the barn door, Josiah gave a little tug. It held fast. That was reassuring. Some men got lost in a storm like this and died feet away from their barn or house. Josiah had no intentions of dying like that.

After he’d inched away from the house, he glanced over his shoulder. He could barely see the light from his front window. His chest bumped into something and he turned back around. “Well, I’ll be.”

A small mule waited patiently, head down, nose almost touching the snow. “So it was you instead of my faithful horse that I saw out here.” Josiah reached out and touched her nose. Warm air filled his glove. “Poor thing, must be half-frozen,” he muttered.

A soft thud sounded beside the animal as its rider fell into the snow. Josiah eased around the mule to see who it had been carrying. Yards of dark fabric covered the woman’s legs. A scarf much like his own covered her face. He reached down and lifted her out of the snow.

The woman sagged against his chest. In a weak voice that sounded low and scratchy she moaned, “Please, take care of my mule.”

He couldn’t make out her face, but her voice sounded familiar. Her wet dress, slightly frozen in places, pressed against his coat and he felt no warmth from her whatsoever. Big brown eyes beseeched him, glazed with what he could only assume was a fever. “Now don’t you go fretting, ma’am. I’m not one to leave an animal out in this storm.”

Josiah looked to the mule. He could take care of only one of them at a time. “Sorry, lil’ feller. I’ll be back as soon as I get your mistress settled.” He weighed his options for a few moments, then decided there was nothing for it but to place the woman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He had to have a hand free to hold on to the line and be guided back to the house. Expecting a fight, he immediately knew her condition to be serious when she only groaned slightly. He grabbed the rope in his gloved hand and headed back to the house.

His thoughts bumped together as he worked to get there. What a night for being out in this weather. Where had she been going? And why couldn’t it have waited until after the storm. The woman slumped limply against him as she lost consciousness.

Out of breath from his battle through the snowdrifts, bearing the slight weight of the woman, Josiah gave a sigh of relief to find the bottom step of the porch. He pulled her closer to his chest and carried her the rest of the way to the front door.

Wet clothes added weight to her body. In the light from his window he could see that her hood had fallen back and brown hair spilled out over the fabric. Deep brown eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, causing Josiah to gasp as recognition gripped him.

“Anna Mae?”

“Josiah.” His name whispered across her lips as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

His name, spoken in a weak and tremulous whisper, was the sweetest sound he’d heard in a long time. As long as she could speak, he had a chance to save her. His heart leaped in his chest with fear as her breathing became raspy. Josiah pushed the door open and carried her to the couch. He laid her down gently. Now what was he going to do?

“I suppose I should get that wet cloak off of you. I’m sure you’ll feel much better once that is removed.” Whiskers scratched his palm as he rubbed his jaw.

Carefully, he shifted Anna Mae up and about until he was able to remove the heavy, wet cloak. He lowered her. Brown hair that he’d only seen up in a bun now cascaded about her shoulders in a soft curtain of silk.

Anna Mae Leland was the town’s schoolteacher and a good friend of his sister-in-law, Emily Jane Barns. What had she been doing out in this weather? He’d known her only a few months but Josiah believed her to be a sensible woman. So why was she traveling in a blizzard? And where had she been going?

He walked to the door and looked out at the shadow of the mule. His gaze moved back to Anna Mae. Both of them needed immediate care, both needed warmth.

Josiah tossed more wood on the fire and then went into the bedroom where his girls slept. He pulled blankets from the chest at the foot of the bed and carried them back to her. Should he try to make her more comfortable by getting her into dry clothes? Or leave her in the wet dress? The thought came that she needed another woman, not him. He tucked her tightly within the blankets.

Unsure what to do for her next, Josiah decided to take care of the mule. He opened the door and stepped out into the raging blizzard. He’d been in enough storms in his lifetime to know that this one was going to be long and hard.

His gaze moved back to the window, which offered light and comfort. What on earth was he going to do about the woman resting on his couch?

* * *

For the first time since her arrival at the farm, Anna Mae sat at the kitchen table with the Miller family. It had been all she could do to walk the short distance from the bedroom where she’d been for over a week.

The day before, her fever had finally broken, and she’d awakened and explained to the sheriff that she’d been lured out into the storm by Bart, her ten-year-old student. She’d told him it was probably just a prank but still hoped he’d check on the boy. Josiah assured her that the boy was probably home before the storm ever hit. She latched on to that small ray of hope, trying hard to be very thankful.

But now she had other problems. She traced the outline of a knot in the wooden table. “What am I going to do? As soon as word gets out that I’ve been here throughout the entire storm, the school board will fire me for sure.” She rested her arms on the tabletop and dropped her head on them. Weakness overwhelmed her. Her throat still hurt, but not like it had.

“Here, drink this.” Josiah placed a hot cup in front of her.

She raised her head. Rose and Ruby, the sheriff’s two-year-old twins, sat on their side of the table motionless, watching the adults. Each held a handful of eggs and a piece of bread.

Josiah dished scrambled eggs onto a plate and set it before her. “I don’t see what the fuss is about, Annie. We’ll just explain what happened and everything will be fine.” He returned to the stove.

“Eat?” Rose asked hopefully.

“Not yet. Let me get my plate and we’ll be ready,” Josiah answered, pouring coffee into another mug and bringing it and his plate to the table.

Anna Mae tried to think of the children as chaperones, but didn’t believe the school board would go for that. No, she was doomed.

“Please don’t call me Annie, Sheriff Miller. And I really don’t think they are going to care what my excuse is. They aren’t going to approve of my staying here with you for so long.” Anna Mae sighed. She’d asked him not to call her Annie before but it didn’t do much good. He seemed to enjoy teasing her.

The big sheriff shrugged his shoulders and sat down at the table, his plate heaped with eggs, bacon and bread. “I believe you are wrong. All they have to do is take one look at you and know you’ve been sick.”