Page 40 of Seven Brides for Beau McBride (The McBrides of Montana #3)

“You can have some fun with everyone,” Diana suggested. “And then at the dance, you can choose—knowing you’ve given it some real thought. I know you’ve been trying to stay loyal to me, but I want you to really consider it. I give you permission to really consider it.”

“You’re more than I deserve,” he told her fervently when she stood to leave.

“Well,” she said, rising on tiptoe to press a butterfly-light kiss on his cheek, “you’ll just have to earn me then, won’t you?”

“You told her she was crazy, right?” Ellie demanded now, plowing into the stable, billowing dragon’s breath as she spoke.

It was a crystal clear, gelid night, so cold that frost sparkled in the air around the lanterns.

“You told her that she’s a moon-struck lunatic?

And that you have no intention of romancing anyone but her? ”

Beau regarded her, striving for calm. He felt tender tonight and wasn’t in the mood for confrontations. “I didn’t.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t ?”

She hadn’t brought her shawl out with her, and she was shivering.

“I didn’t think her ideas were absurd, so I didn’t tell her she was a moon-struck lunatic,” he said patiently.

Her mouth fell open. “Has everyone lost their minds?”

Junebug had come to see him after Diana.

She’d been less empathetic than Diana, but no less convincing.

“The whole point of this activity is to enjoy yourself,” she’d told him, watching as he chopped wood for Mrs. Champion’s stove.

She didn’t offer to help. “Dance with some pretty girls, kick up your heels the way we never could at Buck’s Creek.

Hell, Beau, life don’t have to be an endless chore.

Didn’t you set out to have a good time when you ordered up a wife? ”

Their childhood hadn’t been much fun, he thought, as he watched Junebug dash off, her dog scampering along behind.

He remembered the long dark years when Pa had been around, half drowned in drink.

He’d deposited the family in the wilderness without shelter, without stocks of food, without much hope for anything better.

His one decent idea had been to establish a trading post—but even then he hadn’t been much use.

Ma and Morgan had pretty much run things.

Only Ma was often sick, or pregnant, or nursing.

And then there were the years after Morgan left, when Kit and Charlie had stepped in.

Kit stoically, Charlie explosively. One by one they’d lost all the girls except Junebug.

Beau remembered when Maybud had sickened.

It still took the strength out of him to remember it.

Maybud had been closest to him in age, and it had always been the two of them…

until it wasn’t. He’d dug her grave himself, under the chokecherry tree by the creek.

Morgan came back, Ma died, their father ran off, and then Charlie left and things had been bleaker than ever.

As hot-headed as Morgan, Kit’s twin Charlie had gone hunting after their father, alone, determined to drag the old man back to face his responsibilities.

But they’d never had word of him again. Not Charlie, nor Pa.

Charlie’s absence was like an open wound, a pain that endured as the years rolled by; all of them felt their share of guilt for not being able to stop him, and for not being able to find him.

The winter after Pa and Charlie had run off, the McBrides had almost starved—Pa never had been one for stocking the root cellar—but Beau thought the pain of Charlie’s unknown fate was harder to bear than the hunger.

Beau’s childhood read like a litany of grief and misfortune. No, there hadn’t been much lightness and fun. Not until recently, when Junebug had started ordering up brides…

Beau had tangled himself up in thoughts of the past and wandered around in knots for the rest of the day. The only thing he knew was that he didn’t want the rest of his life to be as cheerless as his childhood… Other than that, what did he want?

Who did he want?

Look at the disaster of Ma and Pa. He didn’t want that. He much preferred the look of Maddy and Kit’s marriage. They were calm, sweet and kind to each other. But then he didn’t mind the spit and fire Morgan and Pip had either… That looked like its own kind of fun.

So no, he hadn’t told Diana or Junebug that they were crazy.

He actually thought they spoke a lot of sense.

He shouldn’t run into marriage headlong, without considering what he liked.

Especially because liking on paper was different to liking in person.

Diana in person certainly wasn’t like she was in her letters…

“I don’t see why you’re so upset about it,” Beau challenged Ellie now.

“I’m upset,” she exploded, “because you’re breaking Diana’s heart!”

“She didn’t seem so heartbroken.” Beau was getting irritated now. Shouldn’t the impossible woman be glad ? Didn’t she want more kissing? Because he bloody well did.

“She’s pretending, you idiot.” Ellie burst into tears.

Beau was astonished. Why on earth was she crying?

“She’s so kind, and so brave, and so selfless ,” Ellie wailed.

Beau watched as she threw herself down on a hay bale and began crying in earnest.

“She just wants you to be happy, Beau!” Ellie convulsed on the hay bale.

“I don’t see why that’s something to cry about,” he said, exasperated.

Ellie looked up from her sobbing for long enough to glare at him. “Don’t you have a compassionate bone in your body?”

“Well, sure, but she seemed fine to me.” Beau approached her like he was approaching a wild horse. He squatted down next to her hay bale. “She’s only asking for us to take it slow—and to take it seriously. It ain’t a game.”

“No, she’s asking for you to take it slow and seriously with five other girls !” Her brown eyes were sparkling with angry tears.

“Six,” he corrected.

“Don’t include me in this!” She leapt up again.

Beau sighed. She sure gave Junebug a run for her money when it came to melodrama.

“This doesn’t really change anything, Ellie,” he said, rising to his feet.

“It changes everything .” Ellie seized him by the jacket. He could tell by the look in her eyes that her imagination was running rampant. “Now you’re seriously courting six women, not just one. That’s a change!”

“Seven women,” he corrected.

“Imagine Junebug’s Christmas dance,” she instructed, not even listening to him. “The hotel’s front rooms have been cleared of furniture. There are garlands of fir on the doorways and mantles, and paper snowflakes twirling on strings, and shimmering candlelight—”

“Have you told Junebug this, because she’s struggling for decorations and that sounds pretty good.”

“Hush.” Ellie put her hand over his mouth. “It’s a wonderland. The music fills the night and romance pulses.”

She was shining again. Her eyes were glistening and her cheeks were flushed. She sure was pretty when she was being ridiculous.

“You’re dancing with… Flora,” Ellie sounded like she was choking on the name.

“While Diana stands by herself, watching wistfully, her sensitive heart aching. She’s smiling, because she’s kind.

” Ellie’s hand was pressing hard into his mouth now, like she was trying to smother him.

Tears were sparkling in her eyes. “But then you whirl Frances—”

“Flora,” he corrected, his voice muffled by her hand.

“Someone who is not Diana, ” she seethed. “You whirl her under the mistletoe. Are you imagining this?”

“Vividly,” he promised, his voice still muffled.

“And then what do you do?” She was looking rather evil now. It was surprisingly attractive on her.

“Kiss her?” Beau guessed. He was a bit tired of being smothered, so he pulled her hand away from his mouth.

“That’s right! You kiss her. ” She said it like he was murdering someone. “Right there, in front of Diana.” The tears tumbled down her cheeks. “And Diana’s heart breaks .”

“She all but told me to kiss people,” he said, reaching out to wipe the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“But she didn’t mean it,” Ellie wailed.

“I think she did.” He gave her a hug and a pat on the back. “You know you imagined this whole thing, right? None of this has actually happened.”

“But it will .”

“Not if I watch out for mistletoe.”

“Do you have any idea what it will be like for her to watch you romance other people?” she wailed into his jacket, thumping his chest with her fist.

“I’ll do it out of sight. Ow!” He caught her wrist before she could thump him again. “There, there. Maybe it will be Diana I’ll twirl about under the mistletoe,” he soothed her. “Maybe I’ll kiss her and everyone else’s hearts can break.”

She reared back. “You shouldn’t make light of it.”

“I’m not,” he promised, trying not to smile. “But I can’t control what I do in your imaginings. Only in real life.”

“And in real life, you’re going along with Diana’s stupid plan.” She looked so betrayed.

“Aw honey, it’s okay.” He rubbed her back. “It really is.”

She shook her head, tears tumbling. “It’s not. It’s all my fault.”

“Yeah, that’s usually how imaginings work. If you dream them up, you’re responsible for them.”

“Not that.” She bit her wobbling lip. “It’s because I kissed you. It made you weird after, and you being weird unsettled her.”

“Well, now. It wasn’t really a kiss, was it? I thought we established that. It was more of a touching of lips and holding still.”

She glowered at him.

Somehow he managed not to smile. “It’s not because you kissed me or because I kissed you,” he soothed. “It’s bigger than that. I’m weird for a lot of reasons.”

She looked insulted.

“Not that it wasn’t a significantly big kiss,” he said quickly. “It was. Enormous. Gigantic. Seismic.”

“Stop making fun.”

“It’s just about certainty, that’s all. About not rushing headlong.”

“You wrote to each other,” she reminded him. “It wasn’t headlong. You know each other.”

“And they were great letters,” he admitted, remembering his excitement every time one arrived at the post office. “But we only started getting to know each other. Diana’s right—I need to be sure. And so does she.”

What he was sure of right this minute was that she felt good in his arms as he comforted her.

They stood behind the shelter of the half-closed barn door, in the frosty light of the lantern, which caught her eyes and made them shine.

She smelled like a soft summer breeze, a surprising freshness on this cold fall night. He felt her exhale a shuddering breath.

“I love Diana,” she said plaintively into his jacket.

“I know. And she knows it too.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was wrong.”

“Well, now it ain’t wrong,” he said softly. “She’s all but given permission.”

Ellie reared back again. “What are you suggesting!”

He shrugged, his gaze dropping to her lips.

“No.” She pushed him away.

He sighed. She was always so contrary.

“I’m fully committed to Diana’s cause.” She made it sound like she was entering an epic battle.

Beau couldn’t deny that he was disappointed.

He’d been thinking a lot about kissing her today.

But if there was one thing he’d learned from Junebug, it was that there was more than one way to skin a cat.

“Do I get to enlist your help, if it coincides with your cause?” he asked, reaching for his book.

“How do you feel about helping me practice my dancing? I don’t usually do it with a partner, which I reckon is a handicap. ”

“I don’t dance.”

“Perfect, me neither. We can learn together.” He pointed to the page.

“This here’s a two-step. It says anyone can master it in minutes, so long as they know their right foot from their left.

” He took her by the hands. “Do you know your right foot from your left?” He felt a momentary resistance and then she let herself be pulled into him.

“I’m only helping so you can dance with Diana,” she mumbled.

“I know.” He slid his arm around her. “Alright, this is mostly walking. Quick-quick, slow-slow. Move your right foot back first and I’ll move my left.”

“Beau?”

“Yes?” For a moment, his heart pinched, thinking she was about to say something tender.

“There should be more space between us. The book shows more space.”

“Well, the book is wrong.”

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance, which is why you needed the book.”

“I know enough to know that close is always better. Now hush up and follow my lead.”

She made a disgruntled noise. But she stayed close.

And that was enough for him.