by Jan Watson
Copper stood and gathered her shawl and her bonnet. “We’ll stop by Fairy Mae’s on our way home. I’ll tell your mammaw you’ll be coming soon to see your son.”
Ace walked her to the porch.
“Fairy Mae will welcome you,” Copper told him. “There’s no reason you can’t take Dance for visits.”
“Do you reckon I can ever bring him home?” he asked.
“Talk to her family,” Copper said. “Maybe you all can work something out. Might be one of Dance’s sisters could come and help.”
Dimmert was waiting with Star. He had just reached down to pull Copper up behind him when Ace yelled as he headed toward the barn, “Hold up. I got something for you.”
They waited until he came over with a gunnysack tied up with a piece of twine. “Here’s supper. And I thank you kindly for stopping by.”
Farther down the road, Copper dismounted by the creek and let the turtle go. She wasn’t partial to turtle meat—give her a rabbit or squirrel anytime—but Ace must be quite the connoisseur. They waited until the snapper pushed his feet and his head out of the shell before they started off once more. Dimm shivered, but Copper reckoned it was good he faced his fear. They watched the turtle trundle down the bank. He was safe until Ace caught him again. She hoped Ace wouldn’t know they didn’t have turtle for supper.
Winter came in with a vengeance. It snowed and snowed and snowed. By mid-December Copper was pretty much tired of shoveling paths between the barn and the cabin, tired of dirty snowmelt on her kitchen floor, tired of the isolation. Each day she counted the blessing of Dimmert, who worked right alongside her, feeding the animals and keeping the woodpile on the front porch stocked and the coal buckets full. The house was always cold in spite of their efforts. And try as she might, Copper couldn’t get Dimm to move into the house. He could have slept in the open loft over the sitting area, but he wouldn’t leave Star alone in the barn.
Christmas gave a reprieve. Snow still covered the ground and it was too much effort to go anywhere, but they’d celebrate Jesus’ birthday just the same. John came over every evening the week before the big day and cracked black walnuts for the jam cake and fudge and divinity she and Darcy made and stored in tins on the top shelf of the pantry. Dimmert waded through waist-high drifts to find the perfect lopsided cedar tree. He cut it to size and nailed a crisscross of boards to its trunk. Now it rested on the porch just waiting for Christmas Eve. Every time the door was opened, the fresh smell of Christmas caused Lilly to jump up and down in excitement.
A package arrived from Massey’s Mercantile, and John picked it up at the post office. He conspired with Copper to hide it until Santa came. Seemed everyone was conspiring. Dimmert was forever hammering on something in the barn, and Darcy picked up her sewing each day when Lilly went down for her nap.
Copper was as bad as the young ones. She could hardly sleep she was so excited. Early on the morning of Christmas Eve, she crept out of bed before her little family awoke and settled on the hearth with a cup of tea and a pilfered bit of black-walnut fudge. Her mind swirled with anticipation as she thought of the gifts from Santa that would appear under the tree tonight. Lilly was to have a real doll with black hair like her own. Darcy would receive a locket on a fine gold chain, and Dimmert—oh, Copper couldn’t wait to see his face. In Massey’s catalog she’d found the perfect gift for him. John thought it was extravagant, but it was her choice.
She traipsed to the window and pulled back the curtain. Thankfully it had stopped snowing. High white ridges of white sparkled under moonlight so bright it hurt her eyes. Or maybe it was the sudden tears that hurt. Back at the fireside she sat and pulled her cold feet up under her long flannel nightgown. Fudge melted on her tongue, and her teeth crunched black walnuts as the fire warmed her back. Grateful tears flowed; she didn’t try to stop them. “I am so blessed,” she whispered and sipped her tea. “So blessed. Thank You, Lord.”
Copper missed her dog, Paw-paw. In years past, the old hound would have kept vigil with her. He loved nothing better than a warm hearth on a chilly night. She could almost feel his silky ears under her hand, the knobby ridge of his backbone. She wondered if the lilac bush she’d buried him under back in Lexington gave his old bones comfort and if his bones would rise on Resurrection Day. She thought they would. Wouldn’t it be just like the Lord to give His children such a gift—to be reunited with their pets?
A shriek of wind tore around the corner of the house and rattled the windowpane. She put a lump of coal on the fire and poked hot coals around it. Maybe come spring she’d see about getting a dog. Truly, a house wasn’t a home without a dog. But then, by spring Faithful should be sitting on Copper’s hearth.
She took it for granted they’d live on this side of the creek. Her house was bigger than John’s and had an extra bedroom. It went without saying that Darcy and Dimmert would stay on. Goodness how her life had taken on new meaning in such a short time. Her marriage to Simon seemed like a dream sometimes, Lilly Gray her only reminder of that precious time.
Enough of that. I don’t want to entertain sorrow this morning. There will be nothing but happy thoughts in this house today. She stood and stretched, kneading the small of her back with her fists.
Might as well get started, Copper thought. She parted the curtains that closed off the pantry and retrieved the bread bowl. She cut a lump of lard into the flour and seasonings already in the bowl, then added a splash of cold milk. After dusting the table with flour, she dumped the dough out and patted it into a thick round. Mam’s old tin biscuit cutter hung on a nail just inside the pantry, always ready for duty.
Soon two dozen biscuits, sides touching, waited in pie tins to be baked. She refreshed the flour, baking powder, and salt, then put the bread bowl back in its place.
She dressed quietly in the cold bedroom, pulling on long knit underwear and extra socks. Leaving her hair in its thick braid, she coiled it at the nape of her neck and secured it with pins. Back in the kitchen she scrubbed her teeth with a mixture of baking soda and salt, enjoying the fresh clean taste it left. It paid to be prepared. John might steal another kiss.
Her lips tingled when she remembered last night. He was preparing to leave for home and already had his hat on. Faithful waited by the door. Copper went to peck his cheek with a little good-bye kiss when he turned his head, and she met his mouth instead. Mmm, that was an early Christmas gift.
Her hat and coat, with gloves in the pockets, hung on the back of the door. She put them on and then struggled to pull Daddy’s old galoshes over her work boots. Finally, she was ready to meet the day. The too-big galoshes marked her way on the packed snow. She was glad to find that it was a little warmer this morning.
Dawn broke. The barnyard rooster crowed. Benny echoed. Rays of morning’s first light cast a beautiful picture for her eyes alone. Puffs of snow like cotton batting clung to each tree branch, and high drifts nestled along the fence rows and sculpted white ridges against the stark gray siding of the barn. She startled a rabbit, and it hopped away, leaving footprints as delicate as a chain of daisies.
So pretty, she thought, her gaze following the tracks. And what was this beside the barn? She followed the rabbit for a closer look. A row of perfect snow angels lay in the drifted snow. When had Darcy been out to make them? Copper couldn’t help herself. First at one end of the snow angels and then at the other, she flung herself backward. Moving her arms and legs with abandon, she left her own angelic likeness in the drift.
Mazy mooed from her stall in the barn. Copper needed to quit playing and get busy, but first she took a minute to enjoy the gift of angels. Hers were taller and thinner than the others. It seemed as if they were holding hands, making friends on Christmas Eve morning.
Mazy bawled, demanding a rasher of hay and some feed. Copper hurried into the barn to the waiting cow. After she milked, she mucked out Mazy’s stall. It was too cold to turn the cow out for the day, so she forked extra hay from the manger into Mazy’s feed box.
&
nbsp; Star stuck his long neck over his stall door and nickered a greeting. She scrubbed at the place between his eyes with her knuckles. He rested his head against her shoulder in delight. Star really was the most beautiful horse she’d ever seen. She fished a summer apple from her coat pocket and fed him his treat. Dimmert had already seen to Star’s stall, and Copper knew he would also slop the pigs and feed the chickens.
She could have stayed in the barn all day. It seemed appropriate to be in a stable with the animals on Christmas Eve, but there was a ham to roast, a tree to decorate, and a little girl who waited for Santa. She finished her chores and rushed to the house, the snow angels all but forgotten.
Remy Riddle hid herself behind the barn, where there were no windows or doors for a body to spy her from. A copse of thorny locusts and overgrown cedar edged close to the barn, giving her the perfect escape if need be. She’d nearly been caught, though, when Purty veered off the path to the barn after she spied the snow angels.
She shouldn’t have been so foolish as to make the angels, but it was a gift she couldn’t resist leaving, a Christmas present to the only true friend she’d ever had . . . if she discounted the man who’d taken her in that season two winters back. But she counted no man as a friend, not even John Pelfrey. She didn’t like to think on him. Ever since she relied on him that winter when her ankle was busted, she had an uneasy feeling when he came to mind. Thoughts of him made her heart feel hollowed out like her belly did when it was empty—as if she had something to be sorry for. She’d only wanted to get in out of the cold long enough for her ankle to mend, never intended for things to go as far as they did. But she’d learned from a master to get along by hook or by crook and not to count the misdeeds along the way. Her pap would say a body dumb enough to be made a fool of by a Riddle deserved their fate. And she reckoned her actions had made a right fool of John.
The rooster crowed again. Streams of gold pierced the heavy shadows of Remy’s hiding place. She’d better get going. A cedar branch broom erased her footprints until she was far from Purty’s house. She didn’t mean to be caught.
Near dark that evening, Dimmert forced the Christmas tree through the kitchen door. Clumps of snow littered the floor, but the tree was so fresh that not a single needle fell. “Where?” he asked.
Of course there was only one place for the magnificent, raggedy cedar to sit: right where all the Christmas trees of Copper’s past had been—there under the sitting room window. “Not too close to the fire,” Copper said as he moved the tree this way and that. “Right there.” He stopped, then twirled the tree so she could see each side. “Turn it just a hair more toward your left. . . . Yes, that’s perfect.”
Darcy bustled about, sweeping up the melting snow. “Law, Dimm. You could have knocked your boots against the doorjamb before you clomped across my clean floor.”
Hanging his head, Dimmert started for the door.
“Don’t leave,” Copper said. “Stay and help decorate before Lilly wakes up from her nap. I shouldn’t have let her sleep so late, but I wanted to surprise her with the tree.” They’d strung popcorn the night before, and Copper handed Dimmert the first string. “You’re the only one tall enough to do the top.”
Copper watched Dimmert and Darcy trim the tree as she stood at the cookstove stirring cocoa powder into a pot of sweetened milk. She and Darcy had collected all manner of pretties that struck their fancy over the year—feathers, pinecones, various grasses (which they gathered into small bundles with scrap ribbon), and pressed leaves. Dimmert was awkward at the task—it seemed every trinket he hung fell off the minute he picked up another—but Darcy had a natural touch.
Soon the pasteboard box of decorations was empty, and they stood back to admire their handiwork. Copper knew from what Fairy Mae told her that the Whitt children had never had Christmas trees and gifts. As Copper set mugs of cocoa and a tray of cookies on the table, she wondered how Fairy Mae was doing with her brood. Copper knew the day would be filled with joy. Fairy Mae would see to that, and there would be presents under their tree thanks to Massey’s Mercantile and John. He’d secretly delivered what Copper had ordered for Fairy Mae’s grandchildren.
And then he’d snowshoed up the mountain to the Wilsons’. John told Copper that Cara had met him as he came into the yard with the burlap bag slung over his shoulder. Tears had streamed down her face as she took the pack, promising to hide it from her brothers and sisters until Christmas morning. John wiped a tear of his own when he told Copper there really was a Santa Claus.
“Sit a minute,” Copper told Dimmert and Darcy, “and enjoy your cocoa and cookies. Then we’ll wake up Lilly Gray.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see her face,” Darcy replied as Dimmert took a seat. “I’ll drink my chocolate later.”
Darcy scurried away. Copper could hear her gentle voice awaking Lilly Gray, whose eyes widened in wonder when Darcy carried her into the kitchen-sitting room. “Crip muss tree!” she announced, wiggling free from Darcy’s arms. She ran up to the decorated cedar with her little arms flung wide. “How’d tree get here?”
“Santa’s elves brought it while you were sleeping,” Copper said with a wink to Dimmert.
Lilly walked backward, keeping the tree in sight, until she bumped against Dimmert’s knees. “Huh,” she said, turning to Dimmert. “Did you catched one?”
“No,” Dimmert said, lifting Lilly onto his knee. “Too slick.”
Copper laughed at Lilly’s question and Dimm’s response. “That’s just what my brother Willy would have said. Once he made plans to capture Santa and his pack.” Memories of Christmases long past flooded Copper’s mind. It was as if she could reach out and touch Mam and Daddy, Willy and Daniel; their presence in the room was so strong. Now they were celebrating Christmas and a new way of life in Philadelphia while Copper did her best to celebrate as she always had in her precious mountain home.
Dimmert handed Lilly a cookie and let her sip from his cup before she danced away—right back to the tree. She knelt and stuck her head under the cedar boughs. “Where’s my dolly?”
“Santa brings gifts to good little girls tonight, Lilly Gray, while they are sleeping.”
Lilly’s eyes widened again. “Me good, Mama?”
Copper swung her up and held her tight, breathing in the sweet, innocent smell of her. “The best. You’re Mama’s very best girl. Now we need the finishing touch.” She carried Lilly to the pie safe and took out a small, tattered box. Setting it on the table, Copper removed the lid and unfolded crinkled tissue paper revealing a blown-glass star. “This belonged to your grandmother Corbett. Her name was Lilly too.”
Copper settled into the rocker by the hearth with Lilly in her lap. Darcy sat at her feet, and Dimm perched on the edge of the hearth. He looked for all the world like a great blue heron, ready to fly away if startled.
“I want to read to you about the star before we put ours on the tree,” Copper said.
“Pretty.” Lilly turned the dark blue ornament etched with gold over and over in her chubby hands. It sparkled like diamonds in the firelight.
Thumbing through the familiar Scriptures, Copper came to the second chapter of Matthew. She cleared her throat and read: “‘Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.
“‘When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born. And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judaea: for thus it is written by the prophet, And thou Bethlehem in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.
“‘Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, enquired of them diligently what time the star appeared. And
he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.’”
Lilly Gray wriggled on Copper’s lap. The fragile glass ornament tumbled from her grasp, falling with a bounce to Darcy’s lap.
“Careful,” Darcy said. “We don’t want to break baby Jesus’ star.”
“That’s right,” Copper added. “This is like the star that led the wise men to the manger where baby Jesus was born.”
“Where baby’s mama?” Lilly asked.
“Baby Jesus’ mama was Mary, and she was there in the stable with him,” Copper said.
“Where daddy?”
“His name was Joseph, and he was taking care of Mary and her baby.”
“Where Lilly’s daddy?”
Copper was taken aback. She was not ready for that question yet. “Sit still and let me finish the Bible story.” She found her place and continued. “‘When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.
“‘And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.’”
“That was beautiful, Miz Copper,” Darcy said. “I love the sound of your voice when you read.”
Copper closed the Bible. “Why, thank you, but it is the story that’s important.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. My daddy is a preacher, you recollect. All us kids have been saved.”
“That is the most wonderful gift you’ll ever receive,” Copper replied.
Dimmert unfolded himself from the hearth. Copper had never seen him sit so long.