Montana Sky Christmas: A Sweetwater Springs Short Story Collection Read Free Page B

be all right with you?”
    Louisa tried not to show she felt as giddy as a girl at the thought of seeing him again. “Certainly,” she said in a calm voice.
    “Well then.” Red lingered a moment before putting on his coat. “Thank you for the lesson.” He pulled out some coins, pressed them in her hand, and closed her fingers over them. “Til tomorrow.”
    ~ ~ ~
    Two weeks later, a brisk knock at the door had Louisa jumping up and smoothing her hair. Her heart pounded, and she hurried to the window, glanced outside, and saw Red on the doorstep, his arms full of wood.
    Butterflies danced inside her. Trying not to seem too eager, she paused to the count of three and then opened the door. “Hello, Red.”
    He grinned, and her heart turned over.
    She stepped back so he could come inside, then shut the door behind him. Today a cheery fire burned in the fireplace, courtesy of the wood Red had brought on each of his visits.  
    He stacked the wood in the box by the fireplace.
    She smiled and thanked him.  
    Red followed her into the kitchen, and took off his coat, hat, scarf, and mittens.
    She had a pot of coffee boiling on the stove. The coffee was another gift from him. He’d insisted that he needed a cup for fortitude during their lessons and couldn’t put her to the trouble of providing the beverage. He was a courteous as well as a generous man. The fragrance of the brew wafted over to them.
    He picked up the nearly completed, misshapen stocking lying on the table and studied the stitches.  
    She joined him, standing close enough to almost touch. “You’ll finish it today.”
    Red grimaced. “Not sure it’s wearable.”
    “We can take it out and start over.”
    “We’ve done that ten times.”
    “Nine.”
    Pounding on the kitchen window startled them apart.
    “My heavens!” Louisa gasped and placed her hand above her heart to still the rapid beating.  
    Donny Addison, wide shoulders hunching under a raccoon skin coat, peered at them through the window, an angry look on his face. He disappeared. A minute later, he thrust himself through the front door without knocking, then slammed it behind him. In his hand he carried a crumpled flyer. “Louisa!” he bellowed. “What in tarnation are you doing?”
    Louisa flew into the main room and placed her hands on her hips. “Mr. Addison, how dare you barge in here! Banging on the window, scaring me like that.”
    “I saw a man in here, Louisa.”
    “Go away, Donny Addison. You have no business spying on me. I won’t have it.”
    “It is my business, Louisa. We’re getting married in January.”
    Louisa hesitated, knowing she stood at a crossroads. Am I getting married in January?  
    From behind, she heard the jangle of spurs and slow click of boot heels across the wooden floor. With trepidation, she turned to look at Red Macalister, sauntering into the room as if he owned it.
    Donny puffed up, appearing even bigger. He towered over Mr. Macalister by three or four inches. “Macalister, what the hellare you doing here?”
    “Watch your language in front of a lady,” Red drawled, but a fierce light darkened his eyes.
    “I’ll say whatever the hell I want.”
    “Donny Addison!” Louisa pretended to be more offended than she felt. “What would your ma say if she heard you speak that way?”
    Donny shuffled his feet, looking like an overgrown schoolboy. “I’m sorry, Louisa.”
    She raised an eyebrow, trying for the imperious look she’d once seen wealthy Mrs. Sanders use on Mrs. Cobb. “I haven’t given you permission to use my given name, Mr. Addison,” she said, hoping that neither man could see her shaking knees under her skirt.
    “Ah, Louisa,” Donny half pleaded, half blustered.
    She glared and crossed her arms.
    He rolled his eyes. “Miss Cannon , what is Red Macalister doing in your kitchen?”
      Louisa paused. She knew Red didn’t want it broadcast that he was taking knitting lessons. Yet she couldn’t come up with an alternative