Читать книгу A Home For Christmas - Linda Ford - Страница 11
ОглавлениеEddie got to his feet, took the baby and helped Linette to stand. “I think my wife should have a little rest. It’s been a long day.” He led her up the stairs.
Missy watched them go, then glanced about the room. Not long ago this space had been crowded with guests. Now there was only Wade and her. Not that they were really alone. The children were in the next room; Linette and Eddie, Nate and Louise were upstairs. Nevertheless, Missy’s nerves twanged with tension. Would Wade use the quiet to inform her that she had stepped into his business too many times? She knew she had but didn’t regret it.
There was only one thing she meant to change. “I have never expressed my condolences over the loss of your sister and brother-in-law. I’m very sorry. I recently lost my brother, so I share a little knowledge of how you feel.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know you’d lost your brother, though I suppose I should have realized it when Louise said her husband had never met baby Chloe. I didn’t make the connection. I’m sorry for your loss, as well.”
Missy let her gaze find his as she offered her sympathy. It was nothing but a cool, impersonal meeting of the eyes, but at his kind words, something shifted between them. Their circumstances might be different, but the pain and loss were similar and they silently acknowledged it. She felt his sorrow in the depth of her heart, even as her own sense of loss tightened her chest.
Her breath stuttered in and she broke their visual connection. “Do you intend to tell the children of your plans?” she asked, bringing her gaze back to his.
He looked away, his eyes full of uncertainty. “I don’t know how much I should tell them.” He turned back to her. “I don’t want to take away from their enjoyment of Christmas.”
She nodded. “Nor do I. In fact, I’ll do everything in my power to make their stay here enjoyable. Too bad Christmas is over.” In the ensuing silence, she heard a distressing sound. “Is that Annie crying?”
They were both on their feet in an instant and rushed for the kitchen door.
Joey sat with his arm about his little sister. Her sock doll lay on her knees as tears dripped to its face.
Missy knelt before the child. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Annie sobbed an answer.
Missy could not make out what she said and was about to sit down and pull the child to her lap when Wade beat her to it. He held Annie so tenderly, his face so full of sorrow and concern, that Missy blinked back a few tears of her own. How she wished to help this hurting trio. God, I told the children You would help them and guide them. Let me assist if that’s possible.
She sat beside Wade and rubbed Annie’s back. After a moment the little girl quieted and was able to speak. “Mama made me a doll. I don’t know where it is.” Her crying intensified again.
Missy’s heart twisted and she gave Wade a look of despair. “She’s lost so much.”
“She hasn’t lost her doll.” He shifted Annie to Missy’s arms and strode from the room.
“Where’s he going?” Joey clutched her hand. “Is he leaving?”
“I don’t think so.” Missy was as uncertain as Joey until she reminded herself that Wade had agreed to stay until the children were placed.
He returned in quick order carrying two bulky boxes and two valises. “Your doll is in this stuff. We just have to find it.” He dropped his burdens to the floor.
The children sprang forward and fell upon the baggage as if they’d been returned home from being lost. In a sense, Missy supposed it felt that way. Everything they owned and were familiar with was before them.
Wade pried open the first box and let the children dive into the contents. Blankets, clothing, a pair of woolen mittens were all pulled out. Annie pressed her face into each article and breathed deeply. Joey fingered the fabric and then slipped his hands into the mittens, a look of joy and pain twisting his features.
They emptied the box and sat back. No doll.
Missy carefully repacked the contents while Wade opened the next box. Again he stepped back as the children examined the contents. With a squeal, Annie pulled out a pink sweater and slipped it on. She rubbed her sleeves and smiled through a sheen of tears. “My sweater Mama made me.”
Joey dug further. He didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he was hunting for something. When the box was empty he sat back on his heels. “It’s not there.”
“What are you looking for?” Wade asked.
“Something.” Joey would say no more.
Missy repacked the box, with the children following every move of her hands, as if saying goodbye to each item. As if saying goodbye to their life. A tear dropped to the back of her hand but she wiped it off and continued until everything was back and Wade closed the top on the box.
The two valises sat untouched and the four of them stared at the bags. Would they contain something to comfort the children or would there be only disappointment? Missy didn’t want to face the possibility of the latter. It seemed the children didn’t, either. But Wade pulled one valise closer and folded back the top. “We might as well see what’s here.”
With less enthusiasm than they’d shown previously, the children pulled out items. This bag held boy’s clothing. Missy realized it contained the things Joey needed for the present. Annie sat back and let him remove the contents. He carefully lifted each shirt and each pair of trousers, almost reverently setting them aside. At the bottom of the bag he felt something and grew still, his eyes wide. Slowly, he lifted out a photograph and stared at it. “Mama and Papa.” The words came out in a whisper.
He turned the picture so Annie could see it. She sucked in a sigh and then released it.
No one moved. Missy wondered if anyone breathed as the children drank in the likeness of their parents.
Joey kept the photograph on his lap and searched the corners of the bag for something more.
Missy knew the moment he’d found it. He froze, one hand in the valise, his eyes wide, his mouth open. Then he swallowed twice and slowly withdrew his hand. “My ball.” He burst into tears.
Wade and Missy reached for him at the same time. Their arms crossed as they comforted Joey, but neither of them withdrew. The weight of Wade’s arm across Missy’s sent a rush of warmth straight to her heart. She was instantly thirteen years old again, longing to be comforted. She’d gone to Gordie in tears, overwrought about their parents’ death, but her brother had pushed her away. Told her it was time to grow up. Wade, to his credit, simply held Joey now and let him shed as many tears as he needed to.
Annie scrambled over the valise, lifted the photograph from Joey’s knees, crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms about him.
Missy wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. She could not bring herself to look at Wade, fearing her emotions would riot out of control and she would become a teary mess.
When Joey’s sobs subsided he shared a memory. “Papa played catch with me every time he could.” He darted a glance to his uncle.
Missy almost chuckled at the boy’s subtle hint.
Wade nodded. “Tell you what. We’ll play catch, too.”
Joey grinned. “I’d like that.”
Annie slipped from her brother’s lap and squatted in front of the last valise. Wade opened it and the others sat back as Annie slowly lifted out little-girl garments and set them aside. After each she looked from Missy to Joey to Wade. Not until her uncle said, “Go ahead,” did she take out the next item.
She looked into the bag and squealed in delight, but kept her hands on her knees and stared at the object.
“What is it?” Missy asked softly.
Gently, Annie lifted out a soiled and worn cloth doll. “My dolly, Mary.” She hugged the doll to her neck and rocked back and forth, humming a lullaby.
Missy heart overflowed at this child’s pleasure. But her joy was intermingled with unshed tears. She shared a glance with Wade. From his trembling smile she guessed he struggled with the same emotions she did.
Their gaze remained locked. His smile fled and then returned with warmth and understanding, finding an answering smile in her heart. They might not have much in common. They had plans that didn’t involve the other. Certainly they were at odds about what his plans for the children were. But unmistakably they shared tender affection for these children.
Annie looked about the room as if searching for something else, saw her new doll on the kitchen table and trotted over to get it. “Mary, you have a sister now. This is Martha.” With one arm clutching each doll, she hugged them both to her neck.
Joey shifted to face Wade. “Are you leaving us here?”
Still on the floor, Wade sat back and crossed his legs with an ease that said he often sat this way. Missy could imagine him on the ground before a campfire, a tin cup of steaming coffee in his hand. The picture made her smile and, at the same time, filled her with an unfamiliar restlessness.
Her smile fled as she waited for Wade to explain his plans to the children.
He caught Annie and pulled her to his lap. “I’m not leaving for a little while. You both know I don’t want to ever leave you but...” He shrugged, then brightened. “But Missy is going to help take care of you while we’re here. How do you like that?”
Joey grinned. “I like that.”
Annie reached for Missy’s hand and pulled her closer. “Me, too.”
The children looked at each other, sharing a secret. Then Joey nodded. “I’ll ask.” He considered Wade a moment as if gathering up the nerve.
“What is it?” Wade prompted.
“Annie and I want to have our own Christmas. Not one with so many strangers.”
Wade turned to Missy. “What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me.” She turned to Joey. “Did you have something in mind?”
Joey wriggled with excitement. “Tomorrow is the day after Christmas. Boxing Day, Mama called it. She said it used to be when people gave their servants money and gifts back in England. We don’t have servants, but she said Grandma considered the animals her servants, so they would go to the barn and decorate it to celebrate Jesus being born in a manger. Can we do that tomorrow?”
Missy’s throat clogged. The children didn’t want gifts for themselves; they wanted only to make Christmas memorable.
She turned toward Wade, intending to tell him she’d help him decorate the barn if Eddie approved. But Wade looked as if he’d been stabbed through the heart.
He shifted Annie to Missy’s lap and strode from the room.
* * *
Wade stumbled out the back door into the clear evening. Trying to calm himself, he sucked in the cold air and commanded his thoughts to fall into order.
The door behind him opened, threw out a patch of golden lamplight before him, then closed softly. He felt Missy at his side but did not look her way nor acknowledge her.
Her hand touched his arm and rested there. “Wade, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothin’.”
“‘Nothin’’ doesn’t send a man rushing out into the night.”
She had a point. His thoughts untangled and dashed to his tongue. “It was my mother who began the tradition of decorating a manger for Christmas. Born and raised a proper English miss, she couldn’t dismiss Boxing Day as just another day. I remember how eagerly Susan and I looked forward to our trip to the barn the day after Christmas.”
“Susan was your sister? The children’s mother?”
He nodded. “My parents are gone. My sister is gone. My wife is gone.”
Missy’s fingers trembled on his arm. “You were married?”
“A long time ago. I tried to get her to decorate the manger with me but she didn’t see the value of doing so.” To Tomasina it was a silly, childish practice. After her death, he’d been glad to join Susan and her family in carrying on the tradition.
“It will be good for the children to continue their customary way of celebrating the day.”
Enough light came from the window for him to watch Missy’s hand run along his arm. Was she even aware she did it?
He shifted away, forcing her to drop her arm to her side. He didn’t need or want comfort. Not for himself. She could save it for the children. He lived the life he wanted and deserved.
“It’s getting cold.” He opened the door and held it for her to enter. When they stepped inside, Joey and Annie watched them with wide, fearful eyes. He understood life was uncertain for them at the moment, the future unknown. The best he could do was get them settled as soon as possible. Only then could they begin to adjust to the facts of their life.
They were young enough to adapt.
He knew he never would. He’d learned his past went with him, bleeding into his present and staining his future. One simply did not forget finding one’s wife dead of her own choice. At least Susan and her husband had died of natural causes. One could put that down to God’s timing. Then all one had to do was believe God had a good and perfect plan in mind. Though, truth be told, there were times Wade found it hard to see the good in things. But then wasn’t that what trust was—believing when he couldn’t see?
To reassure the children he pasted a smile on his face. “I’ll ask Eddie about decorating a manger.”
“What is it you want to ask Eddie?” The man in question entered the room.
Wade explained the Snyder tradition and Eddie wasted no time consenting. “It sounds great.”
Grady was at Eddie’s heels. “Can I go with you tomorrow?” the boy asked Wade.
“Of course you may.”
Grady grinned in pleasure and Eddie squeezed his shoulder, as happy as the child, then he turned to the others. “My wife has fallen asleep. I think Louise and Nate have, as well. That leaves us to fend for ourselves for something to eat.” He set out leftover ham and turkey and sliced a loaf of bread, while Wade put Annie’s things back in the valise and pushed their boxes and bags to one side of the room.
When the three adults and three children gathered around the table, Eddie asked the blessing. Annie placed her two dolls on either side of her and patted each.
Mealtime was quiet, the children tired out from the long day and the adults somewhat subdued, as well. As soon as they were satisfied and the dishes quickly disposed of, Eddie led Wade and the children upstairs. Missy apparently had a room on the main floor and called good-night as the others climbed the steps.
Annie paused on the steps, looking over her shoulder. “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked Missy. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“I have a room down here. I’ll be here when you get up tomorrow.”
Wade gathered his niece in his arms and carried her up the stairs. She was practically asleep on his shoulder by the time Eddie showed him a room for the children and an adjoining one for himself. He helped the children prepare for bed, then withdrew to the next room, hoping the children wouldn’t be upset by being separated from him.
* * *
He woke the next morning to two children bouncing on his bed.
“It’s morning,” Annie said with a bounce.
“You sure?” His voice was gravelly.
“We’re doing something special today. ’Member?”
He cracked one eye open. “Not before breakfast.”
“Aren’t you getting up?” Joey bounced twice just for good measure.
“Where’s Missy?” Annie added another bounce. “I want to wake her up.” She jumped toward the side of the bed.
Wade lifted his head and eyed her. “You will not go downstairs until I say so.” He cocked an ear and listened. “I don’t think anyone else is awake. And you shouldn’t be, either.” He let his head fall to the pillow, closed his eyes and wished for the forgetfulness of sleep.
“They’re awake, Uncle Wade. I heard baby Chloe and baby Jonathan crying when we came in here.” Joey seemed to think that was reason enough to make sure everyone in the house was up.
Wade had jerked awake a couple times in the night, hearing the babies cry. Once, he’d thought he was out in the range and coyotes were nearby. He’d reached for his rifle, but found only bedding. By that time his heart raced and he was wide-awake.
Now as he lay there his thoughts harkened back to the previous day. His agreement with the Gardiners meant he would be days late getting to Stuart’s place. Stuart would wonder when he didn’t show up, though he’d wait a few days before he gave it much mind. By then, Wade would be there.
There wasn’t much traffic to and from Fort Macleod this time of year, but a man and woman anxious to adopt two children would find a way of making arrangements. Until then Wade and Missy Porter would entertain the children.
He tried to decide what he thought of that young lady.
Very pretty for sure.
Alone. Just as he was. Except he at least had the children for the next few days. He pushed aside the sorrow of knowing he would soon have to say good-bye to them. Perhaps never see them again, depending on the wishes of the new parents.
Missy was opinionated, as well. She certainly knew what she wanted, which was to his advantage. He could offer her a paying job.
Doubts crowded his mind. Had he done the right thing in asking for her help?
But she was kind and she’d be good to the children. They needed tons of kindness and affection at the moment.
He rubbed his arm where she had touched him. Warmth trickled into his heart like water from a block of ice under a warm spring sun.
The children, realizing they must wait before going downstairs, curled up beside him.
“Tell us a story,” Annie begged.
“Yes, do,” Joey added, trying not to sound as eager as his younger sister.
“Me?”
“Like Mama used to.” Annie voice threatened tears.
“You’re all we got.” Joey had no idea how inadequate that made Wade feel.
“Okay, I’ll try. Once upon a time there was a cowboy.”
“Oh, I like that.” Annie’s eyes were wide with expectation. “A cowboy who loved a lady.”
“Hey, whose story is this?”
“You have to have a lady.” Annie nodded with absolute certainty.
“You’re sure?” He looked to Joey for backing on this idea, but his nephew nodded. The boy offered no escape at all.
“Okay.” Wade wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. “There was a cowboy who had a lady.”
“Loved a lady,” Annie corrected.
He sighed. “How do you know he loved her?”
“He knew it here.” She patted her chest.
“Is that what your mama said?” Susan had been such a romantic.
Annie shook her head. “I just know it. Right, Joey?”
Joey considered her question. “I don’t know.” At the fear and hope laced through his words, Wade’s throat tightened. Joey was awfully young to be afraid of love, though perhaps he had as much reason as Wade did. But Wade didn’t care to see such doubt in his nephew and decided he would tell a story about a cowboy who loved a lady.
“She was a beautiful lady,” he said.
Annie sighed. “Like Missy.”
Wade didn’t argue the point. How could he when he pictured Missy in the role? Not that he saw himself as the cowboy. Nope, that wasn’t a part he intended to take.
“This young lady liked to cook and sing and play the piano. She liked children and hoped she could have dozens of them.” He swallowed back a bitter taste in his mouth. How had his story gone from thinking of Missy to thinking of Tomasina?
“Did she?” Joey asked.
“What?” He’d gotten lost in his thoughts.
“Did she have lots of kids?”
“She did. Six little boys and six little girls.” Might as well make the story big and give it a happier ending than his own.
“And the cowboy played games with them?” Joey leaned over him, his face so close Wade could smell his little-boy scent. Joey’s eyes were intent. Wade realized play was very important to this child.
“He sure did. He played ball and chase and tag and taught all the children to ride and rope.”
Joey flopped to the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I wish...”
Wade waited and when Joey didn’t finish he pulled him back to his chest so they stared into each other’s eyes again. “What do you wish?”
Joey looked at Wade’s chin. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Hey, it’s Christmas. What better time to wish for something?”
Joey’s eyes slowly came to Wade’s. “I wish we had a home and...”
“Our mama and papa.” Annie finished for him.
Joey flung himself from Wade’s arms and lay stiffly on the bed. “See? I knew it was impossible.”
“I’ll make sure you have a nice home.”
Both children sat up and looked at him. “Here? With you?”
“We’re all going to stay here until I sort things out.”
The pair looked at each other, their mouths in matching frowns. It was the best he could offer. Someday they would understand that.
“Miss Porter is going to help look after you.” He hoped they would see it as a fair exchange for him not being able to fulfill their dreams.
“I like Missy Porter,” Joey said, a goofy look on his face.
“You should address her as Miss Porter.”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “What’s the difference between Miss and Missy?”
“One letter. Y.”
“Because I was wondering.”
Wade grinned secretly at Joey’s literal understanding of why and y. It would be fun to watch the kids grow and learn. He clamped down on the thought. He wouldn’t be the one enjoying it.
Before the sadness could find lodging in his heart, he heard footsteps in the hall. The household was awake. Good. He could get up before the children delved any deeper into the mysteries of life. “Get dressed and then we’ll go to the kitchen.”
Both children hopped off the bed.
“Mind you be quiet in case the babies are asleep.”
Annie’s rushing footsteps stalled. “I wish we had a baby brother or sister.” A ragged breath rushed from her lungs, then she sighed dramatically. “Guess Mary and Martha will have to be my babies.” She trudged to the adjoining room as if she had lost something she valued.
Wade slipped into his shirt and trousers and began to follow, intending to comfort the child, but he made it as far as the doorway and saw she was dressed and singing to her dolls. He grinned. Drama should have been her middle name. “Are you two ready to go downstairs?”
They sprang to his side, as eager to go down as he was suddenly reluctant. He did not like uncertainty and at the moment everything about his life was a question. Would the Fort Macleod family continue with adoption plans? How long would it be before he could be on his way to Stuart’s ranch? And most uncertain of all...was he asking for a continual dose of disapproval by enlisting Missy’s help with the children?
He filled his lungs and squared his shoulders as they reached the bottom step. He was about to find out what he’d gotten himself into.
* * *
Missy had been up for some time. She’d made coffee, mixed up biscuits and put them to bake. She’d set the table, sliced bacon and put it to fry.
Linette had come downstairs several minutes ago, her eyes shadowed. “I think Jonathan has his days and nights mixed up,” she’d said. “I hope we didn’t keep you awake.”
“Not at all. I had a good sleep.” Apart from a few moments when Missy wondered what she’d gotten herself into by agreeing to care for the children, then insisting Wade be involved. Not that she regretted the first. Not in the least. In fact, her mind flooded with things she could do to make the time special and comforting for the children.
But with Wade at her side?
There was something about that man that put her nerves on edge. It was more than the fact she thought him too much like Gordie. Not that she thought him dishonest and living outside the law. No, that wasn’t what bothered her. It was his attitude toward the children. He seemed to be doing his best to be rid of them, and yet he was so obviously fond of them. It was such a strange contrast that she couldn’t decide what to think. But then what did it matter? He’d offered to pay her and she’d take his money, but more than that, she’d enjoy her time with the two children.
She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face as she’d played over the scenes with them—opening gifts, going through their belongings, hugging each other, feeling little Annie’s arms about her neck...
Missy heard a footstep in the hall and turned, a smile filling her face. It was only Eddie. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed and returned to setting out preserves for the biscuits.
At the sound of more footsteps she looked up again, slowly this time. It was Louise and Nate with baby Chloe.
Louise looked as if she had gotten little sleep. “Chloe still won’t sleep without being rocked.”
“You two sit,” Missy told the two new mothers. “I’ll take care of breakfast.” She tended the bacon and broke a dozen eggs into a fry pan.
“Good morning.”
At Wade’s greeting she almost dropped the next egg. With one hand pressed to the thudding pulse in her neck, she spun about. His hair was slicked back and his eyes bright. Obviously he’d slept well. A child clung to each hand.
Annie held her dolls. Joey swung back and forth as if clutching a school yard swing, making Wade sway slightly.
Missy grinned. “Good morning.” Her gaze rested on each child, then came to Wade.
He grinned back as if realizing she found Joey’s play amusing. “These two are raring to go.”
Joey paused. “We’re going to the barn, aren’t we?”
“After breakfast and chores.” The resigned note in Wade’s voice gave Missy cause to think he might have had to explain it a few times already.
“Breakfast is about ready.” She returned to the stove and a few minutes later put the food on the table.
“I surely do appreciate your help,” Linette said.
“It’s my pleasure.” For some reason she wasn’t ready to explore, Missy liked helping in this house. She did it not out of obligation or duty but because she wanted to, and perhaps that made all the difference. Not to mention it was appreciated.
Grady, Joey and Annie chattered freely at the table and the adults gave them attention, just as her mama and papa had done with her.
Reliving her memories of her parents through these children was better than any Christmas present Missy could have wished for, and she knew a sense of joy and rightness she had not known since her parents had died.
The meal over, the men excused themselves.
Eddie stood at Linette’s side. “Is there anything you need before I tend to chores?”
She pressed her hand to her husband’s arm. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about us.” She glanced toward the cradle where little Jonathan slept peacefully.
“I’ll give you a hand.” Wade joined Eddie and Nate as they left the house.
Joey and Annie stared after their uncle. Annie’s lips trembled.
Missy sprang into action before they could start crying or worrying. “I need help with the dishes.”
Linette wanted to help, but Missy shooed her away. “Sit and rest while you can.”
She assigned each child a chore and turned putting food away into a game of “what’s next?” Laughter rang through the kitchen.
“You’re very good with the children,” Linette observed.
Missy chuckled. “It’s because I’m not much more than a child myself.”
Linette and Louise both snorted. Louise shook her head. “When was the last time you looked in a mirror?”
Missy grinned, purposely misunderstanding her. “Why, is my hair untidy?”
Louse chuckled. “You’d be beautiful whether your hair was tousled or tied back in a tight bun.”
“Thank you.” Missy hugged her sister-in-law.
Annie watched, her eyes studying Missy’s hair. “You have awfully pretty hair.” She yanked at her tangled locks. “Mine is ugly.”
Missy grabbed the child and hugged her. “Not so. The first time I saw you, I thought what a pretty little girl. With those big dark eyes and thick curls, you could never be anything but beautiful.” She eyed the child’s hair. It could do with a brushing and maybe some styling.
“As soon as the dishes are done, I will fix your hair so pretty you won’t recognize yourself.” She stuck her hands in the dishpan full of hot soapy water and a stack of plates.
Annie grabbed a drying towel and handed one to each of the boys. “Let’s hurry.”
The women chuckled at her eagerness, and in no time the kitchen was clean and the dishes done. Missy got her brush and sat behind Annie. Slowly, gently, she worked the tangles out of the curly hair. As she brushed she talked to the children about the stagecoach trip she and Louise had recently completed.
“Weren’t you scared?” Joey asked, when she told about the snowstorm they had been forced to travel through.
“Maybe a little, but the men seemed to know what they were doing. I was awfully glad to get to the next stopping house, though.” Equally glad when the storm ended and they could move on. The old man at the stopping house had done his best to get Missy interested in his advances. She stopped a shiver before it could race through her body.
She French braided Annie’s hair into a thick rope, then showed the girl a mirror. “What do you think?”
Annie stared into the glass a long time and when she lifted her face to Missy, tears filled her eyes. “Mama braided my hair like this,” she whispered.
Missy hugged the child. “I hope it’s okay that I did it, too.” Perhaps Annie preferred to remember her mama’s hands on her hair.
“I like it being like Mama did it.”
Joey had slipped away to the window overlooking the ranch, and Missy went to him.
He leaned on the ledge, peering at the scene down the hill. “I don’t see him.”
Missy knew he meant Wade. “He’s there someplace helping with the chores.”
Joey turned and fixed her with a demanding, yet sorrowful look. “What’s going to happen to us?”
Missy’s throat tightened. She’d agreed the children should enjoy some special days before they were faced with the truth, but oh, how she wished she could give them assurance that their future was secure, that they would stay with the one person they knew and loved.
But Wade had made his plans clear, as well as his reasons.
“What’s going to happen? We are going to enjoy a special Boxing Day celebration.”
Annie’s eyes grew wide. She covered her mouth with her hand.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Missy asked.
“We need a star.” The child’s voice trembled.
“What kind of star?”
“A paper star to take to the barn. We hang it over the manger.”
“Don’t you worry. We’ll find a star.”
Missy asked Linette for paper and scissors. She pointed her toward the cupboard. “There’s brown paper and everything you need in there.”
Missy led Joey and Annie to the cupboard, while Grady hung back at Linette’s side, looking down at his sleeping baby brother.
“Will this do?” Missy asked.
Annie and Joey nodded in unison.
She spread the paper on the table. “How big?”
“Big,” Annie said. “Real big so the wise men can see it.”
Missy sketched a five-pointed star on the one-foot-square piece of paper. “Is this good?”
The children nodded, their gazes riveted to the sheet.
She cut the star out.
“I’ll carry it,” Joey said, and Annie didn’t argue.
Joey returned to the window. “Uncle Wade won’t forget, will he?” Worry darkened his voice.
Missy glanced past him. “Look. He’s just leaving the barn.”
The children rushed for their coats, except for Grady, who held back. “Mama, they said I could go, too.”
Linette glanced at Missy, who nodded. “Wade said it was okay.”
“Very well, you may join them.”
There ensued a flurry of activity—struggling into coats and hurrying to do up the buttons, finding hats and scarves and boots. By the time Wade stepped inside, three children bundled up for winter waited at the door.
He gazed at the children, a puzzled expression on his face. “Looks like you’re going out.”
Three heads nodded.
“Got something planned, do you?” He kept his voice quizzical, but Missy saw the flash of teasing in his eyes and leaned back to watch how it would play out.
Annie nodded decisively, but the two boys looked at each other as if to check if they had misunderstood the plans.
“Anything I should know about?” Wade asked.
“Uncle Wade.” Annie’s voice dripped with impatience. “You know we’re going to the barn for Boxing Day.”
“Oh, that. I thought we had all day to do it. I didn’t know you were so eager.”
“We’re ready now.” Annie emphasized the last word.
Joey watched.
Missy sensed his uncertainty. The child half expected to be disappointed. She wanted to warn Wade not to tease too long, but before she could speak, Wade tugged his nephew’s hat. “You ready, too?”
Joey nodded, his eyes filling with eagerness.
“How about you?” Wade tugged Grady’s hat next.
“I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.” He reached for Annie’s hand.
Missy hadn’t been included. She hoped her smile looked sincere, when inside she fought disappointment. Somehow she’d seen herself as part of this mysterious celebration.
Wade waited at the door. “Hurry and get your coat,” he said to her.
Missy hurried.
Joey reached for her hand at the door and she offered her other one to Grady.
They trooped down the snow-crusted hill to the barn and stepped into the dim interior. The smells of horses and hay filled the air. Dust motes drifted past the squares of light from the row of windows. The nearest horse turned and whinnied a greeting.
Eddie stood to one side, watching without intruding.
Wade led them toward an empty stall. “Here we are. A manger for us to prepare. Who wants to put in fresh hay?”
“That’s my job.” Joey handed the paper star to his sister and took the pitchfork that had been placed nearby. He lifted fresh hay from a little pile and spread it as carefully as a hand-knit blanket.
The door swung open and Daisy and her sister and brothers slipped in. They approached the group, each clutching something in their hands.
Again the door opened and closed as three cowboys stepped inside and came to stand by Eddie.
Wade grinned. “Seems word got around about the Boxing Day event.”
“You don’t mind?” Missy wasn’t sure if this was a private family occasion.
“Everyone is welcome, right, kids?”
Annie and Joey murmured agreement, but their attention remained on smoothing the hay in the manger. Finally satisfied, they stepped back. “The manager is ready just like it would have been for baby Jesus.”
“I have the star.” Annie handed it to Wade. “Can you please hang it for me?”
Wade must have known about the star. Of course he would. This was a family tradition. He stuck it on a nail above the manger.
The children stepped back, forcing Wade to crowd to Missy’s side. She thought of moving, but there was nowhere to go, so she stayed where she was, Wade’s arm brushing hers. She felt him in every pore, the scent of him, fresh hay and old leather, the size and strength and determination of him. And something more. Something that transcended the five senses. She didn’t know what it was, but knew she wasn’t mistaken in thinking there was more to him than what a person saw on the surface.
Her nerves twitched. Her cheeks burned. Why was she assuming to know his feelings? She knew practically nothing about the man, and what she did know she wanted to change. Her desire was to see the children stay with him, not go to strangers, despite his reasons for feeling he had to make this decision.
She stiffened, trying to pretend she was unaware that their arms touched. She was here only to encourage and support the children and to help take care of them. But she fully intended to use what little time she had to convince him not to send away two little ones who adored him.
Joey signaled to the waiting children and Daisy led them forward.
“I brought a blanket,” she said, and spread a worn cloth over the hay.
Daisy lifted her youngest sibling, little Pansy, who dropped a bright button to the blanket. “I bring shiny.”
Their brothers, Neil and Billy, stepped forward. Little Billy left a cookie, Neil a red feather.
Grady had disappeared into the tack room and emerged with a leather strap. “He’ll need this to fix things.”
The children crowded around the manger and the cowboys moved closer.
Missy turned to smile at Wade. “The first Christmas Day must have been like this.”
He nodded, his eyes full of dark mystery as if he was caught somewhere between the past and the present, perhaps remembering other occasions when he’d taken part in this ceremony.
Joey caught Wade’s hand, drawing his attention away from Missy.
“Mama taught Annie a song to sing when we did this.”
“She did?” Wade squatted to face the children.
Missy watched emotions journey across his face. First surprise, then sadness and then love for the two children clutching his hands.
She didn’t know what prompted her action, but she rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. All she wanted was to let him know she sympathized with the tangle of emotions he must be feeling—sorrow at the loss of his sister and brother-in-law, and sadness at facing the further loss of these children.
But something else happened when her palm touched him. She felt a yearning, as strong and undeniable as his muscles under her hand.
She jerked back. What was she thinking? Wade did not offer what she wanted and needed. He was a wandering cowboy who considered those he loved to be inconvenient to his way of life. Her mind said her judgment might be a little harsh but her heart felt the familiar pain of being a burden to someone.
The children should not feel that way.
And yet didn’t they deserve to be with an uncle who loved them?
How could he love them and plan to give them away?
It was a question she meant to put to him. There had to be a way for him to keep the children, and she’d help him find it.
