Free A Creed Country Christmas by Linda Lael Miller Page B

aside.”
    She gazed up at him. “You are a remarkable man, Lincoln Creed. A remarkable man with a remarkable daughter.”
    Embarrassed pleasure suffused Lincoln. “I think we’d better go and have supper.”
    Juliana smiled. “I think we’d better,” she agreed.
     
    S UPPER WAS A BOISTEROUS AFFAIR with so many people gathered around the table, their faces bathed in lantern light and shadow. And to Juliana’s surprise—she forced herself to try some, in order to set a good example for the children—the bear meat turned out to be delicious.
    Tom and Joseph did the dishes, while Gracie sat in arocking chair nearby, feet dangling high above the floor, reading competently from Oliver Twist .
    Juliana, banking the fire in the cookstove for the night, stole a glance at Tom and noted that he was listening with close and solemn interest.
    Gracie finally read herself to sleep—Billy-Moses and Daisy had long since succumbed, and Lincoln had carried them to bed, one in each arm—and Tom seemed so letdown that Joseph took the book gently from the little girl’s hand and picked up where she’d left off.
    Juliana hoisted Gracie out of the chair and felt a warm ache in her heart when the child’s head came to rest on her shoulder.
    She met Lincoln in the corridor leading to the bedrooms. She thought he might take Gracie from her, but he stepped aside instead, his face softening, and watched in silence as she carried his daughter to her bed. A lamp glowed on the nightstand, and Theresa, a pillow propped behind her, was reading one of Gracie’s many books.
    Juliana set Gracie on her feet, helped her out of her dress and into her nightgown.
    Gracie, half awake and half asleep, murmured something and closed her eyes as Juliana tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and then Theresa’s.
    She took the book from Theresa’s hands with a smile, and extinguished the lamp, aware all the while of Lincoln standing in the doorway, watching.
    He stepped back again, to let her go by, and smiled when she shivered in the draft and hugged herself.
    “I want to show you something,” he said.
    Curious, she allowed him to lead her to the end of the hallway, where he opened a door, stepped inside and lit a lamp, causing soft light to spill out at Juliana’s feet. She hesitated, then followed, and drew in a breath when she saw a porcelain bathtub with a boiler above it, exuding the heat and scent of a wood fire.
    Juliana hadn’t enjoyed such a luxury since she’d left her grandmother’s mansion in Denver. There, she’d taken gaslights and abundant hot water for granted. Since then, she’d survived on sponge baths and the occasional furtive dunk in a washtub.
    “I mean to put in a commode and a sink come spring,” Lincoln said, sounding shy. “They say we’ll have electricity in Stillwater Springs in a few years.”
    Juliana was nearly overcome. She put a hand to her heart and rested one shoulder against the door frame.
    He moved past her, their bodies brushing in the narrow doorway.
    Heat pulsed at Juliana’s core.
    Without another word, Lincoln Creed left her to turn the spigots, find a towel and fetch her nightgown and wrapper from the toasty bedroom, where Daisy and Billy-Moses were already deeply asleep.
    The bath was a wonder. A gift. Juliana sank into it, closed her eyes and marveled. When the water finally cooled, she climbed out, dried herself off and donned her nightclothes. A bar of light shone under the door to the room she supposed was Lincoln’s, and if it wouldn’t have been so brazen, she would have knocked lightly at that door, opened it far enough to say a quiet “Thank you.”
    Instead, she made her way back to the kitchen, walking softly.
    Joseph was still reading from Oliver Twist , seated at the table now, and Tom was still listening, smoking his pipe and gazing into space as though seeing the story unfold before his eyes.
    Without making a sound, Juliana retreated, smiling to herself.
    That night, she slept