A Lawman's Christmas_ A McKettricks of Texas Novel - Linda Lael Miller [48]
For all that, Clay would remember that trip home as a silent one, because, once again, Dara Rose didn’t say a word.
When they drove on along Main Street, passing the road that fronted the house without turning in, Dara Rose nudged him lightly with one elbow but still didn’t speak.
“Where are we going?” Edrina called, from the back.
“We’re having supper at the hotel tonight,” Clay said, with a sidelong glance at Dara Rose. “Call it a celebration,” he added dryly.
“Don’t be silly,” Dara Rose muttered in protest, but the girls were cheering by then, causing Chester to bark, and all of those noises combined to drown her out.
What with all the planks and doors in the road, Clay had to weave the team and wagon in and out half the length of Main Street, but he finally reined in, in front of the Texas Arms Hotel and Dining Room, and set the brake.
“This is extravagant,” Dara Rose whispered to Clay, when everybody except Chester was standing on the board sidewalk. “We have food at home….”
“Tonight is special,” Clay replied, before shifting his attention to Chester. “You stay put, dog, and I’ll bring you out some supper.”
Chester seemed to understand; he settled down next to the Christmas tree, resting his muzzle on his out stretched front legs, sighed once and closed his eyes.
Edrina and Harriet raced, giggling, toward the main entrance to the hotel.
Dara Rose hesitated, though, and took a light but firm hold on Clay’s arm. “You mustn’t spoil my children,” she said. “I don’t want Edrina and Harriet getting used to luxuries I cannot hope to provide for them myself.”
Clay suppressed a sigh. “Food,” he said reasonably, “is not a luxury.”
“It is when it’s paid for, and someone else cooked and served it,” Dara Rose insisted.
Clay smiled down at his bride. “Try to enjoy it just the same,” he advised, taking her elbow and gently steering her across the sidewalk.
Chapter 8
The small rustic dining establishment serving the Texas Arms Hotel was full of savory smells, causing Dara Rose’s stomach to rumble.
Someone had hung a wreath made of holly sprigs behind the cash register, and limp tinsel garlands drooped from the edges of a long counter lined with stools.
Only one of the six tables was in use. A man, a woman and a little girl, probably a year or two older than Edrina, dined in companionable silence, their clothes exceedingly fine, their manners impeccable. Since Dara Rose had never laid eyes on them before, she knew they must have arrived on the afternoon train.
She wondered if they were just passing through, or if they’d come to Blue River to spend Christmas with friends or family.
Clay nodded a taciturn greeting to the man and the man nodded back.
Edrina and Harriet, stealing glances at the little girl, scrambled onto chairs at a table in front of the window, sitting side by side and swinging their feet. It had been an exciting day for them—first, the wedding, then the expedition to find a Christmas tree, and now a restaurant meal.
By the time they tumbled into bed that night, Dara Rose thought fondly, her daughters would be so deliciously exhausted, so saturated with fresh air, that they’d sleep like stones settling deep into the silt of a quiet pond.
Clay was just pulling back a chair for Dara Rose when the cook-waiter appeared, smiling a welcome. “I hear this is a wedding supper!” the man thundered. “Congratulations, Marshal.”
It wouldn’t have been proper to congratulate Dara Rose, since there would inevitably be an implication that she’d somehow captured her new husband, rounded him up like a rogue steer, and not by pure feminine allure. While she appreciated the courtesy, she did wish the man hadn’t spoken so loudly, because the woman at the other table turned in their direction, her expression impassive, her gaze flickering briefly over Dara Rose’s faded cloak, with its frayed, mud-splattered hem.
“Thanks, Roy,” Clay responded, addressing the cook, with whom he was obviously acquainted, and the two