The Rancher's Christmas Princess by Christine Rimmer Read Free Book Online Page A

few more thuds and grunts followed.
    And then she clearly heard Silas McCade say, “You damn fool,
get hold of yourself.”
    After that, there was silence from outside at last.
    Charlotte spoke again, more quietly. Belle couldn’t make out
the words. Then a door shut.
    A moment later, Charlotte tapped on the door that joined their
rooms. Ben had stopped wailing. He had his head buried in the crook of her neck
and he was sniffling dejectedly, his little body shuddering in the aftermath of
his tears.
    She carried him to the inner door, rubbing his back, her lips
to his temple as she went. When she reached the door, she settled the baby a
little higher on her shoulder and turned the lock to admit her cousin, companion
and dear friend.
    “The...father has arrived,” Charlotte said, her prominent
gray-green eyes wider than ever. She clutched the high neck of her ruffled robe
with one hand and held the other hand around her middle.
    “I heard,” said Belle.
    “He wants to see Ben. He and Marcus had a bit of an
altercation. They’re waiting outside with a loud-mouthed older fellow whom I’m
assuming is the grandfather.”
    “Has he been drinking?” Belle asked.
    Charlotte frowned. “Which one?”
    “Preston—but when you come right down to it, have either Preston or his father been drinking?”
    Charlotte thought it over. Finally, she decided, “I don’t
believe so. I think it was a case of the blood running high, as it were. They
both appear sober and I didn’t smell liquor on either of them.”
    “Very well.” Belle kissed Ben’s velvety cheek. He had his fist
in his mouth by then. With a final hiccup and a weary little sigh, he laid his
head on her shoulder. “Tell Preston we will meet him...where? It’s so early. I
have no idea.”
    “The restaurant across the street should be open,” Charlotte
said. “I checked the hours yesterday. Six in the morning until eight in the
evening.”
    “Wonderful,” Belle said wearily. Maybe fortune would smile on
them and the restaurant would be empty at this hour, giving them all a little
privacy to deal with this difficult situation. “Tell them the diner, then. We’ll
meet them there in twenty minutes.”

Chapter Four
    B elle, Charlotte and Ben entered the Sweet
Stop together. Ben was bundled up and tucked in his stroller. The ever-present
Marcus, sporting a black eye, followed close behind them. The diner was far from
empty. Apparently, many of the good citizens of Elk Creek took breakfast before
dawn. As had happened the day before, a hush fell over the establishment when
Belle and the others came in. People paused with their coffee mugs halfway to
their lips and stared.
    Preston and Silas had taken a back booth and were waiting for
them. One of them must have thought to ask for a high chair. It stood at the end
of the booth. Preston, who faced the door, had a swollen lower lip and a small
cut above his right eye. His gaze locked with Belle’s for a too-brief moment. An
echo of last night’s magic arced between them.
    And then was gone.
    He and Silas both stood up as Belle, pushing Ben’s stroller,
came toward them, Charlotte at her side. Marcus hung back near the door.
    Belle reached the men looming by the booth. She moved around to
the side of the stroller to take care of Ben and suggested over her shoulder,
“If you two gentlemen wouldn’t mind sitting in the inner seats? Charlotte and I
need to be next to the high chair for Ben.”
    Neither of the McCade men answered. She glanced over at them.
Neither had moved either. Both of them stood stock-still, wearing identical
expressions of dumbstruck wonder, staring down at the child in the stroller.
    Ben, bundled up in blankets and a miniature down jacket, a blue
wool hat over his white-blond hair, gazed solemnly back at them.
    Charlotte broke the silence. “Ahem. Sit down, please.” She made
a shooing motion with both slim hands. “Sit down and slide over. Both of
you.”
    That seemed to break the spell.