The Cowboy Who Saved Christmas

by Jodi Thomas

  His arms now empty after the brief moment of sharing his grief, Clint took the cup from Amelia and sat down again. The girls dutifully sat down beside their mother and silently stared at him. Their forlorn expressions broke his heart. It gave him comfort to know they loved his mother. At least she’d had people surrounding her who cared about her during her illness.

  “Did anyone tell you what happened? Ingrid was doing well when we left. I never considered she might have a relapse.”

  “I didn’t see anyone until I rode to your ranch. I asked the man at your ranch where I could find you.”

  After a few moments, Amelia asked, “How did you know your mother wanted you to find me?”

  “There was a note in the family Bible.”

  “Who told you that your mother . . . had passed? Casey?”

  “Casey?” Clint didn’t know who Casey was. “No, I saw her grave.”

  Jumping to her feet, Amelia stood before Clint. “But that grave was dug a long time ago. Your mother asked Casey to dig the grave when she contracted the fever. But I told him to fill it in, because I didn’t want her to think she was going to die.” Seeing Clint’s confused expression, she added, “Your mother recovered before I left town. She insisted that I leave with the Nelsons while she stayed behind to care for Doc Sims. She told me because she had survived the fever, she would probably be immune. If you didn’t go to town, how do you know she wasn’t there caring for Doc Sims?”

  Clint studied her face, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Was it possible his mother was still alive and in La Grange, nursing the doctor? “Are you saying my mother was completely well when you left La Grange?”

  “Yes, but when the doctor became ill, she insisted on staying with him. Doc lost his wife several years ago, so there was no one to help him. He had done so much for everyone else and your mother wouldn’t desert him.”

  Clint looked off into the distance. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, only to have them dashed once again, but at that moment he felt a spark of faith. “Then it’s possible she’s alive.”

  “A family passed this way two days ago and told us that the fever had stopped spreading, and some families were already returning to La Grange,” Amelia told him.

  “Was Mr. Nelson thinking of returning?” Clint asked.

  “Not yet. I would like to go home as soon as possible, but I think he wants to stay here for now. I understand why he wants to wait, after losing one grandson. We all want to protect the children.”

  “Ma left because of us. She didn’t want us to get sick,” Katie commented.

  Clint thought Katie sounded too old for her age, much like Whitt’s boys. “Your mother did the right thing.” Clint remembered his mother’s letter mentioning that Amelia had lost her parents to yellow fever, but she hadn’t mentioned Amelia’s husband. “Did your husband come with you to Honey Creek?”

  “My husband is deceased,” Amelia replied softly.

  Clint assumed he must have died from yellow fever. He hadn’t expected Amelia to be a young widow with two children to care for. Staring at her, he thought again how beautiful she was, with her dark hair and pale skin. He imagined her husband fought that disease every step of the way so he could stay with her and their children. If she was his wife, and these beautiful little girls were his, it would take more than yellow fever to take his life.

  Amelia sat down beside Clint. “Mr. Mitchum, I believe your mother is in La Grange, caring for the doctor. She was determined to stay alive to see you, and I can’t see the fever taking her life after what she had been through. She is a strong woman.”

  Clint knew his mother was a determined woman of faith. He hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking on his part—he’d been disappointed too many times—but Amelia’s words rang true in his heart. He had to find out as soon as possible if his mother was in La Grange. “I’ll have to let my horses rest for a couple of days before I go back. They’ve been pushed to the limit.”

  “Did Casey know you were Ingrid’s son?” Amelia asked.

  “Who is Casey?”

  “The man you saw at my ranch.”

  “I introduced myself, but he didn’t seem to want to divulge much information,” Clint replied.

  “That sounds like Casey,” Amelia retorted with a frown on her face.

  Mrs. Nelson walked back to camp accompanied by her husband. After introductions were made, and Amelia explained the situation to Mr. Nelson, he told Clint he was welcome to stay at their camp.

  “I’m sharing a campsite with Whitt Newcombe and his two boys. Our camp is less than a mile away.”

  “Is he having any luck finding gold? I haven’t found a flake,” Tom Nelson said.

  “Some. You folks should ride back with me and set up camp there.”

  “I would rest a lot easier if there were others nearby,” Sophie Nelson admitted, looking at her husband.

  Clint didn’t think Whitt would mind having them. He’d prefer that two men be on hand to protect the women and children while he was gone. “There’s a spot for your family. It would be a wise decision to stay close to one another.”

  Tom Nelson readily agreed. “We’ll pack up and go with you.”

  * * *

  Bo and Boone ran to Clint when he returned to the camp with the newcomers. Whitt welcomed everyone, and told the Nelsons to set up camp right next to his. Clint had an opportunity to talk to Whitt alone while the Nelsons were getting settled.

  Clint discussed with Whitt what Amelia told him about his mother. “I’ll be leaving in two days for La Grange. I didn’t think you would mind having another man around.”

  “I’m glad you brought them here. I know they lost one grandson to the fever, and they lost both their son and daughter-in-law a few years ago to cholera. It’s been rough on them.” Whitt offered Clint a cup of fresh coffee. “I hope you find your ma alive and well. That would be a Christmas miracle indeed.”

  Whitt voiced what Clint had been thinking. Having taken his family for granted for so many years, he didn’t think he was deserving of such a miracle, but he was asking anyway. “I can’t think of a greater blessing than to see her again.”

  * * *

  Later that day, Clint decided to try his hand at panning. It wasn’t an occupation he would have chosen; he preferred more active work from the back of a horse. He thought about what his mother had written in her letter about coming to love the ranch again. He did love the ranch; he always had. He should have recognized that a long time ago. He’d spent too much time thinking of himself instead of doing what was best for his family. Seeing Whitt’s and Amelia’s children made him realize how fortunate he had been as a young man. These children had either lost a parent or grandparents or siblings. He’d had a family he’d taken for granted. Yes, he’d seen his share of horrors during the war, but it was nothing he could change. If the last few weeks had taught him anything, he’d learned not to waste another minute on reliving a past he couldn’t change. He felt an overwhelming need to do something for these children who were much too young to face the harsh, cold realities of life.

  Walking down the bank, Clint found a peaceful spot where the stream was slowing. It was a good area for him to keep an eye on the children, who were on the bank several yards away. Bo and Boone yelled at him and waved. The boys were teaching Katie and Annie how to pan for gold at the water’s edge. Clint could hear Bo explain to the girls how to tell if they had gold in their pans. He saw Amelia join the children, and Bo and Boone gave her the same instructions they’d given the girls. Bo demonstrated how to scoop some gravel and silt into her pan.

  “You have to shake it like this,” Boone told her, demonstrating by vigorously shaking his pan.

  “Like this?” Amelia asked, swirling her pan.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty good for a girl,” Bo replied.

  Clint grinned at Bo’s comment, thinking Whitt better teach that boy how to talk to a woman or he may never get married. Clint couldn’t keep his eyes off Ame
lia as he continued to swirl his own pan. He wasn’t thinking about gold as he watched her. Not only was she uncommonly beautiful, she was patient with the children. Boone said something that Clint couldn’t hear, but the sound of their laughter carried along the bank. Clint smiled, thinking how nice it was to hear laughter again. He thought about Amelia saying she wanted to return home. For a brief moment as he watched her, he thought of what it would be like to have dinner with her and the children at the ranch with his mother. Like a family. He shook his head and looked down at the water he’d sloshed on his pants while he was daydreaming. He questioned his sanity, dreaming of such a thing. Amelia was probably still grieving for her husband. And what made him think she’d be interested in having dinner with him anyway?

  Hearing a masculine voice, Clint glanced back toward Amelia and saw Whitt had joined them. It occurred to him that Amelia and Whitt had a lot in common. Both understood the pain of losing a spouse and having two children to raise alone. It seemed logical they would be drawn to each other.

  Turning his attention to the task at hand, he picked up his spade and shoveled some river sediment into his pan. He shook the pan, swirling the contents, allowing the black sand to settle at the bottom. Tipping his pan into the water, he moved it back and forth in the slow-moving current to lift away the first layer of sediment. He repeated the process, but his thoughts drifted back to one particular woman.

  “You’ve swirled that a long time.”

  Clint nearly dropped his pan at the sound of Amelia’s soft voice. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard her approach. So much for keeping an eye on everyone. He glanced down the stream and noticed Whitt had waded into the water to pan by a large boulder. The children were now playing a game on the bank, gold forgotten for the moment.

  Amelia sat near Clint on a fallen log and leaned forward to watch him agitate his pan. “I’m afraid I don’t have the patience for this.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Clint admitted.

  Amelia inched closer to him and lowered her pan into the water. “The boys were trying to teach me, but I may be hopeless.”

  “Here.” Clint picked up his spade and scooped the river contents into her pan. “It helps to have a spade.”

  Amelia imitated Clint’s actions, swirling and dipping her pan into the stream.

  Clint reached over, placed his hands over hers and tilted up her pan a few degrees. “Don’t let too much flow away at once. Gold is heavier and it will settle at the bottom of your pan.”

  Amelia laughed. “I see now what I was doing wrong.” She glanced into Clint’s pan. “Mr. Mitchum, I think I see gold in your pan.”

  Clint was so busy staring at her flushed cheeks that he’d forgotten his own pan. Just having her so near made his heart skip a beat. When her eyes met his, he quickly turned his gaze to the contents in his pan. He was surprised to see shiny, gold flakes mixed in with the dark sand covering the bottom of the pan. He moved the black sand around with his fingers. Not only did he have gold flakes, there were several small nuggets of gold. “I never expected to find anything like this.” He held his pan for Amelia to see.

  Amelia’s eyes widened. “Oh, Mr. Mitchum! I’ve never seen nuggets that size!”

  Clint grinned at her excitement. “Call me Clint. It’s rare to get so lucky the first time you pan a place.” Clint pulled the nuggets out of the pan and held them in his palm.

  Amelia looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Mr. Nelson told me you shouldn’t let anyone know if you make such a find.”

  Clint chuckled. “I think we can trust our group.”

  Amelia nodded her agreement. “Of course. But more and more people are arriving here every day. Mr. Nelson advised that it’s best to keep our business quiet.”

  “Good advice.” There were many things Clint wanted to ask her, but it wasn’t about finding gold. He wanted to know when her husband died, and what her plans were for the future. Yet he didn’t want to broach the subject if her feelings were still tender. Instead of talking, he reached over and helped her swirl her pan. “Let’s see if we can find you some gold.”

  Amelia smiled up at him. “Thank you. It would be wonderful if I could purchase gifts for the girls this Christmas. They’ve faced too much sorrow, and I would love for them to have some joy, particularly during Christmas.”

  Clint looked into her eyes, wishing he could replace the sadness with some hope. “The children have had a rough time. Bo and Boone lost their mother.”

  “Almost every family I know lost someone. It’s been a terrible time for so many families.”

  Clint thought now might be the right time to mention her own loss. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. I miss my parents terribly.”

  Clint glanced down at his large hand covering hers. He noted she hadn’t mentioned missing her husband. “Here’s how you do it.” He gently dipped the pan at an angle in the water and allowed the water to remove some of the debris. He released her hand as she repeated the process. “I think you’ve got it.”

  They worked side by side for several minutes before Annie and Katie joined them.

  “Look at what we found.” Annie opened her small hand.

  Amelia and Clint looked down to see a few flakes of gold in her palm.

  Katie opened her palm for them to see. “I found some too.”

  “Oh my! You girls did a good job.” Amelia hugged them to her.

  “You can buy my dinner,” Clint teased.

  “Bo and Boone told us you can buy things with gold. Is that true, Mr. Mitchum?” Katie asked.

  “The boys are right. It might take a bit more flakes than you have so far to buy things at the mercantile, but it’s possible,” Clint answered.

  “We’ll work every day to find more because we have something we want to buy,” Annie responded.

  “What do you want to buy?” Amelia asked.

  The girls exchanged a look, then replied in unison, “It’s a secret.”

  “I see. Well, you shouldn’t tell a secret.” Amelia stood and placed her hands on their shoulders. “Let’s go help Mrs. Nelson with dinner.”

  “Can we stay here with Mr. Mitchum and pan some more?” Annie asked.

  When Amelia glanced at Clint to see if he was agreeable, he smiled at her. “They can stay with me if you don’t mind.”

  “Stay with Mr. Mitchum and don’t wander off, and don’t ask him a thousand questions.” Amelia didn’t know if Clint knew what it was like trying to keep up with two girls, so she gave him fair warning. “They can ask a ton of questions.”

  Clint laughed. “No problem. I’ve already been the target of Bo and Boone’s inquisitions.”

  As soon as Amelia was out of earshot, Annie moved closer to Clint and whispered, “We’ll tell you our secret. We want to buy something for Ma.”

  Clint looked at their earnest little faces. “What do you want to buy?”

  Before the girls could tell their secret, Bo and Boone joined them. Boone handed Clint a cup of coffee. “Mrs. Nelson told us to bring you this, and to tell you supper will be ready in thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you, boys.” Clint smiled when he saw the cup was only half full.

  “We’re going to tell Mr. Mitchum our secret,” Annie announced to the boys.

  “They already told us their secret,” Bo told Clint.

  “Well, we don’t want Ma to know, so don’t tell her,” Katie instructed.

  Bo and Boone nodded. “We won’t.”

  Clint took a sip of his barely warm coffee just as Annie said, “We want to buy Ma a husband for Christmas.”

  Clint choked on his coffee and started coughing.

  Katie slapped him on the back. “Are you okay, Mr. Mitchum?”

  When he finally stopped coughing, he sputtered, “I thought I heard you say you wanted to buy a husband for your ma.”

  Katie and Annie nodded in unison. “That’s what we want to do,” Katie confirmed.


  Clint dropped his pan on the bank, his eyes bouncing from Katie to Annie. “That’s your secret?”

  Annie grinned at him. “Yes, we want to surprise her. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Boone sat down beside Clint. “We heard Mrs. Nelson tell Pa lots of men send money for wives, but I don’t know where they send the money. Do you know where to send the money, Mr. Mitchum?”

  “Why don’t you buy our pa for your ma?” Bo asked the girls before Clint could respond.

  “Yeah. Your ma is real pretty. I bet our pa would like her. He’s really been missing our ma,” Boone agreed.

  Clint held his hand in the air. “Now wait a minute. You can’t go buying a husband for your ma, girls.”

  Annie stuck out her lower lip, and Katie frowned at him, saying, “That’s how Mr. Collins got his wife. He wrote a letter and sent money for a wife to come meet him.”

  Clint was stunned how much the children knew about the affairs of adults. “Who told you that? And who is Mr. Collins?”

  “I heard Mrs. Nelson tell Ma. Mr. Collins owns the boardinghouse in La Grange,” Katie answered. “His new wife does all the cooking.”

  “Mrs. Nelson said she would make a better floozy, because she can’t cook,” Annie stated.

  Bo furrowed his brow at Annie. “What’s a floozy?”

  Annie shrugged and shook her head from side to side. “I don’t know, but I guess she does it better than she cooks.”

  Katie looked up at Clint. “Mr. Mitchum, do you know what a floozy is?”

  “Ah . . . it’s ah . . .” Clint didn’t know how to answer that question for children’s ears, so he quickly thought of something else to say. “I don’t think your ma would want you to find her a husband. She can do that all by herself, when she’s ready.”

  “But we heard Ma tell Mrs. Nelson she didn’t know how she would care for us since our pa died. We want to stay with her, so we need to find her a husband,” Annie replied.

  Clint thought the girls were just missing their pa. “Of course you’ll stay with your mother. I know you miss your pa, but it might take some time for your ma to want to marry again.”