Robyn- A Christmas Bride Read online

  “The evening of the 25th,” Bryn replied.

  Only four days away. He headed for the small curtained-off section of his office where he slept so he could be near his work. The Llewellyns shadowed him like hawks.

  “But don’t be fooled,” Bryn warned. “Despite its date, that gathering isn’t a Christmas celebration.”

  “It’s a conspiracy,” Hedd jumped to add.

  “Why do you say that?” Max grabbed a travel sack and searched for a clean shirt.

  Without checking its condition, Griff thrust one in Max’s bag. “It’s an event to promote weddings.”

  Hedd tossed him a pair of trouser. “That’s what Noelle craves most. You can’t even invest in its silver mine if you aren’t married.”

  The Llewellyns threw him items to pack as quickly as they threw him advice.

  “Don’t trust anyone, including your sister-in-law.”

  “And your brother.”

  “And your grandfather. He might be the worst.”

  “Couldn’t stop pestering us about when we’d all get hitched.”

  “The whole town will be wanting Rob to marry and stay in Noelle.”

  “You gotta convince her to leave before the 25th.”

  Max scrubbed his hand over his beard, trying to think how he’d accomplish that. Instead, his thoughts went to how Robyn’s eyes lit up whenever she called him Red Beard, a name her brothers refused to repeat since they believed his blond hair overshadowed any red in his beard.

  “Hurry up.” Hedd hurled Max’s shaving brush and soap at him. “You can spruce up later. After you get to Noelle.”

  Bryn handed Max his razor before Hedd could lob it at him as well. “Be prepared to change to compete with those infamous Noelle bachelors, but keep insisting Rob does not have to change. Tell her she’s needed in Denver. Right now. We’ve lots of work and we can’t handle it all ourselves.”

  At least that was the truth. He wouldn’t have to lie. “But what if…?” Max trailed off, struggling with the alternative.

  “She won’t leave Noelle?” Griff folded his arms decisively. “Then you need to sabotage her transformation.”

  “Get her involved with your family’s business,” Hedd ordered. “Fabricate work if need be. Don’t give Rob time to change.”

  “But if she truly wants to be different,” Max said, “she’ll find a way.” And if they all wanted the best for Robyn, shouldn’t they let her?

  “Our Rob’s resourceful.” Bryn’s voice vibrated with pride and apprehension.

  Max dug his best suit, heck his only suit, out from the bottom of a trunk. He prayed he wouldn’t have to don it for a party.

  “But you’re tenacious.” Hedd snatched the garment from his hands and thrust it into the bag.

  Griff pushed him toward the door. “You’re Dog Bone. Once you’ve sunk your teeth into a task, you’ll do everything in your power to complete it.”

  “And above all, you’re Rob’s best friend.” Bryn’s voice, deep and final as a judge’s verdict, played havoc with Max’s hope that he could be more than that. “So, do what’s best for her and us. Catch the next train to Noelle and bring our sister home. If you fail, everything changes. We’ll have to join Rob in Noelle and leave you in Denver to run your beloved business. Alone.”

  Chapter 2

  Noelle, Colorado

  Later that day and…

  Four days until Christmas and the party

  Dresses were menaces. The dratted skirt caught on the saddle and nearly upended Robyn as she dismounted from Caradoc. She landed with a curse and a flurry of fabric. The usually unrufflable Clydesdale snorted, sharing her surprise. Her Noelle endeavor suddenly loomed a thousand times larger than her usual jaunts around Denver hauling Peregrine freight.

  She’d never regret taking the old road to Noelle rather than the train. She’d always wanted to experience the iconic trail that Max had hauled freight up and down so many times in the past.

  But perhaps she should’ve waited to don her new attire until after arriving in Noelle. Her eagerness to begin her transformation as soon as possible might not have been wise.

  She’d misjudged a dress’ unique challenges. Wearing a skirt was hard work. Why did women consent to do it?

  In trousers, she could’ve sprung from Caradoc’s back in one smooth leap. No frustration. No fuss. No flash of petticoats, like a flag announcing her arrival. Her unladylike dismount brought stares, whistles, and even catcalls from the men on the street between the train depot and Noelle’s Peregrines’ Post and Freight office.

  Her expletive about foul-smelling goats shocked them into silence. Not very ladylike either but effective. Would apologizing for her lack of grace been the correct response?

  She’d have to ask Noelle’s married ladies.

  Giving the men a final glare, she spun on her heel to tie Caradoc’s reins to Peregrines’ hitching rail.

  Before she could, the office door opened and Birdie stepped out and enveloped her in a hug. “Voilà, you’re here! And how delighted we are to finally see you in Noelle.”

  Trying not to squirm like a gangly gosling under a mother’s wing, Robyn patted Birdie’s shoulder. Coming from a family of brothers who seldom hugged, she often wondered how Birdie—who’d grown up with brothers whose dishonorable deeds had forced her to assume a false name and live a life of hiding until she came to Noelle—had become so open with her emotions.

  Then a man who resembled Max—except with wilder hair, a blonder beard, and lighter eyes—appeared and she understood. Birdie released Robyn and stepped into the circle of her husband’s arm. She flew to him like a bird to a nest.

  Love had changed her.

  It had changed Robyn as well, but only her heart. Noelle and its women were her best hope for changing all of her. Then she might win her own love.

  Jack draped a long coat over Birdie’s shoulders, then drew her close to his side. “Welcome to Noelle,” he said when he finally dragged his attention away from his wife and smiled at Robyn. “Birdie and Grandpa haven’t stopped talking about you since their first Denver visit.”

  “Hallelujah!” Grandpa Gus burst out of the office, straightening his flat cap and smoothing his carrot-colored hair as if preparing to greet a princess. “My favorite Llewellyn has arrived.” He reached for Caradoc’s reins. “Let me take the Clyde ’round back.”

  In one smooth move, Birdie linked arms with Gus, stopping the old man’s advance, while Jack said, “I’ll settle the horse in the barn while you three go inside and get reacquainted.”

  Even though she knew the couple collaborated to reduce Gus’ workload, Robyn bristled at being coddled as well. It reminded her too much of her brothers’ meddling.

  She held her hand behind her back with the reins out of reach. “I’ll take Caradoc. Tending him is my most important job.” And she also wanted a peek at the marvelous mules Max had mentioned. She was eager to learn everything about Noelle and its freight business.

  “Ours too,” Jack said with conviction. “He’s part of our family.”

  “But when he lived with us, he was only the Clyde.” Gus stroked Caradoc’s wide white blaze and the horse nickered softly. “Yes, you remember. I helped raise you before you became entirely Max’s horse. Now we reunite bearing fancy new names. Mine’s Grand-père.”

  “Caradoc sounds Welsh.” Birdie, who’d been born in Quebec and was fluent in French, had taken a keen interest in the Llewellyns’ penchant for nicknames and their translations. “What does it mean?”

  Robyn’s cheeks grew warm. Many months ago, she’d whispered the word while working beside Max. He also asked what it meant. She’d lied and said it was her name for his horse. Today, she busied herself loosening Caradoc’s cinch and patting his mahogany coat—the color warm and rich as Max’s eyes. “Caradoc means dearly loved.”

  “Lucky horse,” Gus replied, “to be so treasured by you ’n my grandson.”

  “Our connection may be temporary.” The rea
lization that her words applied to not only Caradoc but Max made her frown. “I only have him on loan.”

  She couldn’t tell Gus or Jack—or even Birdie—the whole truth. She couldn’t tell Max either. Loving him jeopardized everything she’d gained. The one man willing to employ her to drive a wagon had become her best friend. He was also the only boss her brothers had ever enjoyed working with. They teased Max terribly; their version of giving a hug.

  And her?

  She couldn’t stop wanting Max to see her as more than a friend.

  She needed to proceed carefully but quickly, before another woman snared his attention. Mail-order bride mania gripped the state. Maybe even the entire country.

  Men wanted women who were…well, women. Every story Birdie had shared about the brides of Noelle had shown her that. Those women all wore dresses. She didn’t know what else they did, but she was determined to find out.

  When Birdie mentioned the bride—who’d married the diner owner—was a dancer, Robyn’s plan had grown wings. If she knew the ways of a lady and if Josefina Villanueva could teach her to waltz in a dress, she could dance at a party and impress Max. If he returned to Noelle.

  “The snow’s stopped, but it’s still cold out here,” Jack said, as if that were news. His brow furrowed as he contemplated Birdie. “You and Grandpa should go inside while Miss Llewellyn and I stow Caradoc.”

  Gus’ smile became a scowl. “You keep runnin’ the conversation back to the Clyde. I’ve forgotten something again, haven’t I?” His bushy brows shot up as his gaze pinned Robyn. “You have Max’s horse ’n that boy would never let him go easily.”

  She hoped that was the case. Caradoc’s departure might provide incentive for Max to come to Noelle.

  “Have you stolen him?” Gus’ eyes widened with a puzzled curiosity.

  “Grand-père,” Birdie said with a laugh. “Robyn said she has Max’s horse on loan.”

  “Did she now?” Gus tapped his chin. “That fits with him sayin’ he spent more time organizing freight this summer than hauling it.” He thrust his finger in the air like he’d found the answer. “The Clyde needed a new partner. Max chose you ’n the Clyde agreed.” Gus went back to tapping his chin. “Or maybe it was the other way ’round?”

  Jack held Birdie even closer as he stared at the road leading to Denver. “Besides one wagon, the Clyde was all Max took when he left us.”

  “You haven’t lost him forever,” Birdie said gently. “He’ll return when he’s ready.”

  Jack heaved a sigh, sounding a lot like Brynmor fighting a private battle while unwilling to burden others. “And if my brother’s never ready?”

  A twinge of guilt pierced Robyn. She wanted Max in Denver with her and her brothers, but Max’s family wanted him in Noelle. And Max wanted one thing. “He’s determined to make his Denver office a success.”

  Jack snorted. “I’ve no doubt he’s already accomplished that. Max’s resolve is legendary.” His shoulders sagged. “Now he’s committed to staying away.”

  “Or maybe he’s just busy,” Birdie said. “Denver moves at a bustling pace. Faster than I remember from my days running a dress shop there.”

  Jack shifted his weight to his good leg. “Denver can’t be busier than Noelle. And in this town, I have both freight and carpentry to deal with. Max only has the freight.”

  “Brotherly admiration and rivalry. What a pair you are.” Birdie rolled her eyes, then winked at Robyn. “And you and Max too.” Her gaze narrowed with determination. “We only change when we are ready. Are you ready to visit the dancing lady?”

  “Birdie, you shouldn’t—” Jack flinched when his wife withdrew from his embrace. “Consider the options. It’s late in the day, and our guest has had a long journey.” He gave Robyn a pleading look. “You both should— You both could recuperate inside the office before venturing into town.”

  “I’m not tired.” Birdie’s gaze remained on Robyn. “And you?”

  “Too excited to be tired.” And nervous. “I’ve so much to learn.” And I only have four days.

  “I’m fit as a fiddle,” Gus proclaimed. “And rarin’ to go, too. I’ll dance with every gal in town.”

  “Miss Llew— Robyn,” Jack said her name on the weariest sigh she’d ever heard. “We’ve only met, but I must beg your assistance.” He gestured to Gus then Birdie. “As you can see I’m outnumbered, but have you also seen that I’m about to become a father?”

  Robyn’s gaze plummeted to Birdie’s rounded belly, peaking through the opening of the coat Jack had so diligently draped over his wife’s shoulders.

  She blinked in disbelief. How could she be so dense? Was she so consumed by her own worries that she couldn’t see the obvious?

  “Surprise,” Birdie said with a half shrug and a huge smile.

  “The best ever!” She clapped her hands. “You must be excited and—” She froze when she saw Jack’s still pleading expression.

  He and Birdie, even if she wasn’t showing it, had to be more nervous than Robyn could ever be. At least until she was married and with child and— She was getting ahead of herself. She had four days to change Max’s view of her. But in those days, she must also help his family, who’d become her friends and who might one day, if she was lucky, be her family, as well.

  She pressed her palm to her heart and said as solemnly as she could, “You have my full support.”

  “Thank you.” Jack’s deep voice rumbled with relief.

  She turned to his grandfather. “Gus, will you—?”

  “No,” the old-timer grumbled with a vigorous shake of his head. “I ain’t doing nothin’ unless you call me Grandpa or—”

  “Bon-papa,” Robyn interrupted because she liked the French translations better than the Welsh, but she didn’t want to intrude on Birdie’s special name for Gus. She also didn’t want to keep all three Peregrines standing in the cold any longer. “Will you show me the barn?”

  Jack’s groan made her add, “Will you also stay with me until we return to your office? I’m not one to get lost, not after hauling freight around a city’s rabbit warren of streets but…” She flashed the smile she used to cajole her brothers. “I do like company.”

  “And I’d be delighted to be yer escort, pretty lady.” Halfway to the barn, Gus glanced over his shoulder then leaned closer to her and whispered, “Good. We ain’t being followed. They often do that. Got noses like bloodhounds, they do.”

  His comparison made her inhale deeply. Noelle’s crisp mountain air invigorated her mood. A small town like this had to be different from Denver in more ways than she could imagine. Anticipation quickened her pace. Then the memory of not paying attention to the people around her made her slow her steps to match Gus’. Which wasn’t a hardship.

  For his age, he was fleet of foot, if not always of mind.

  A fierce affection for him, and the family who adored him to the point of smothering him, welled up inside Robyn. The extent of her feelings bewildered her until she remembered what Max had told her.

  His grandfather had been involved in Max and Jack’s lives longer than their father had. Not by choice but by circumstance. The War between the States had torn the middle out of their family. The Peregrines had lost a father and a son to a wagon accident that’d rattle even the most hardened of freighters.

  Max had a steely determination, but his heart wasn’t cold or closed. He’d given her a job without lecture about a woman’s inability to do the work. He hadn’t ended her employment, or even reduced her load, after the days when freight runs got challenging, as they sooner or later did.

  He’d accepted her as she was.

  She’d admired him for that. She still did, but she couldn’t stop craving more. Which jeopardized their friendship and her growing connection to his grandfather. “I wish we were already family.”

  “Already?” The knowing glint in Gus’ golden eyes made her duck her head.

  “I know,” she mumbled. “I’m rushing things.”


  “In that, yer like yer brother, Heddwyn.”

  “I hope I’m like Brynmor and Griffin, too.”

  “You are. None of you can stop hoping fer a better future, but you need to be careful what you wish fer.” He heaved a sigh. “If a Peregrine has to, they can make it darned difficult for a person to have any fun. Now it’s my turn.”

  Noelle’s crisp air suddenly felt frigid. “Your turn for what?”

  “To be the voice of reason. The bearer of bad news. The fly in yer honey.” He snorted a laugh. “Or is it ointment? Can’t remember. But you gotta remember—” He shook his finger at her. “Don’t shoot me. I’m only the messenger.”

  His flurry of words made her thoughts spin. She planted her feet in the snow and demanded, “What are you talking about?”

  “Max, of course. Which is a topic best discussed in private.” Gus opened the barn door and gestured for her to lead Caradoc inside.

  Her eagerness to learn anything about Max made her follow his direction without question. The barn’s dark interior contrasted starkly with the snowy mountain outside where nature’s glory had been broken by only three manmade structures: a town, a railroad track, and a telegraph line.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  While she’d been riding away from her brothers, knowing she’d be spending her first Christmas without them, had they sent a telegram to Noelle? What if something happened to them or Max while she was gone?

  She seized Gus’ arm. “Has someone—?” Died. She couldn’t say the word. She pressed her lips tight and clutched Gus’ arm even tighter. “Been hurt?”

  “What? No! Tarnation, girl.” He lit a lantern and used its glow to inspect her face. “Yer skin is as white as a snowsquall ’n yer eyes are as big as—”

  “Enough about me.” She yanked his sleeve impatiently. “What’s your message?”

  “The Clyde needs tending to.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “We can talk while we work.”

  “Fine.” She undid Caradoc’s cinch, a familiar task that allowed her to keep her gaze on Gus as he crossed to a row of stabled mules. The one’s she’d been so eager to see. She spared them barely a glance before studying Gus again.