Longing for a Cowboy Christmas

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Did I miss the wedding?” she asked, her voice faint.

  “Nope. Christmas is in five days. I just don’t think you’ll be up to the ceremony.”

  Rebel’s mulish chin raised just a hair. “I’ll be there. But I won’t have a dress.”

  Travis rose and went to the nail where her few dresses hung. Maybe he was going to pick one out. “I found this old thing hanging at the back the other day when I was snooping around. Do you think it’ll work?”

  What one could he possibly be talking about? He spread it on the bed, and Rebel’s breath caught. The red satin she’d saved for so long had created the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen.

  Tears threatened. She ran her fingertips across the fabric. “Oh, Travis! But how? I gave this fabric to Eleanor Crump.”

  “And she gave it back saying she wanted to see you get married in it. Nora and Tally finished two days ago when you were at your worst and it appeared I’d lose you for sure.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Promise you won’t worry me that much again.”

  “I’ll try not.” Rebel swallowed hard and stared into the face of the man she loved. “You had the dress made even when it appeared we wouldn’t need one.”

  “Call me crazy. Everyone kept saying the wedding wouldn’t happen, and I kept telling them that I had faith it would, though I wavered a bit when I thought your next breath would be your last. I didn’t see how you could survive.”

  “I fooled everyone.”

  “That you did. Oh, I have news. Martha had her baby yesterday, and Sid was here for the event. Mother and baby are doing well, I’m told.”

  “And?” Rebel saw the teasing glint in Travis’s eyes and knew he was stringing her along on purpose.

  “She finally had a girl.”

  “Hallelujah!”

  The bed shifted when Travis stood. “I’m sure you’re starving. I’ll heat up some soup, then I’m going to bring our son and daughter home.”

  “Good. I need to see them.”

  * * *

  Jenny squealed and Ely grinned when Travis told them to gather their things. He thanked Nora and Jack and they left, talking all the way home.

  The children ran ahead hollering, “Mama! Mama!” They disappeared into the soddy, leaving Travis to follow.

  Jenny was talking a mile a minute when he strolled in. “And Mrs. Truman had a girl. I was so happy. We don’t have enough girls here. There’s jus’ me an’ Violet, then baby Willow an’ the new one. That’s all.”

  “It’ll even out one of these days,” Rebel said calmly.

  “Guess what the new baby’s name is.”

  “I don’t know. What?”

  “Noelle.”

  “Honey, that’s so pretty. Now let your brother talk, please.”

  “I thought I’d never get a turn.” Ely propped his elbows on the bed. “My name is Ely Lassiter now. I like Lassiter because I know you and Papa will never stop loving me and Jenny. When I get big, I want to be just like my papa. No one tries to hurt him because he’s tough and will scare them.”

  Rebel glanced at Travis leaning against the wall. He lifted innocent eyebrows at her.

  “Your father will indeed scare people who try to harm us.” Rebel pulled Ely close and kissed his hair.

  After several more minutes, Travis pushed away from the wall. “That’s enough, kids. Let your mama rest. She’s tired.”

  With a happy sigh, Rebel burrowed into the covers, loving this man who watched over her, doing everything to see she gained her strength for the wedding that almost wasn’t.

  * * *

  The days flew by in a flurry of excitement. Though shy, Eleanor came to visit Rebel, which pleased her to no end. This was Eleanor’s start to finding her way back.

  A big snow on Christmas Eve left everything all white and glistening like thousands of diamonds. Eleanor opened her door and gave out pretty, little, bite-size decorated cakes she’d made. The kids loved them and said she made the best treats of anyone.

  “She didn’t look that scary, and she can sure cook,” Ely had reported.

  Rebel remained very weak and unable to be up long at a time, but she wasn’t going to miss another day of her children’s lives if she could help it. Travis hovered over her as though she was going to break until she sent him to go spend some time with Clay and Jack. Just as he started out, a wagon lumbered to a stop hauling a big Christmas tree, and Tait and Ridge jumped down.

  In all the flurry, she hadn’t given the tree a thought. Ely and Jenny ran out of the soddy like a couple of banshees. Rebel wrapped her shawl closer and went to look, holding on to the few pieces of furniture for support.

  Christmas was almost perfect.

  But she didn’t have any gifts for the children. Or Travis. Even if she hurried, she couldn’t make anything in time. She went to her trunk and raised the lid. At the very bottom in the corner, she found a watch chain—her only remembrance of her father—and slipped it into her pocket. After digging through the contents, she found nothing suitable to give Jenny and Ely.

  With a heavy heart she lay on the bed.

  * * *

  Travis entered the quiet house to find Rebel napping, teardrops clinging to the tips of her long lashes. As he turned to go, the toe of his boot caught the open trunk and made a racket.

  Rebel raised herself on an elbow. “You’re back.”

  “Sorry I woke you. We got the tree unloaded and up in the center of town. The children are decorating it under the ladies’ watchful eyes.”

  He sat beside her on the bed and wiped her tears. “What’s wrong?”

  She moved into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. He held her tenderly as she bemoaned, “I don’t have any gifts for Ely and Jenny. What kind of mother am I?”

  “The best kind. I got you covered, darlin’.”

  She leaned back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I bought a pocketknife for Ely and a new doll for Jenny—one with glass eyes and real arms. You’re no longer alone and having to figure things out by yourself. We’re a team, and we’ll handle problems together.”

  “It’s hard to realize that after all these years of being on my own.” She brushed her fingers across his cheek and jaw. “I love you so much.”

  He placed a hand around her neck and pulled her forward until his lips met hers. The kiss was long and deep. Rebel melted against him and he savored the chance they’d been given.

  Thankfulness for the wish granted and love for this remarkable woman wound through Travis like a life-giving river. He prayed he’d never have to learn to live without her. She was all he ever wanted and all he’d ever need, and he couldn’t wait to make it official.

  He broke the kiss and lay down beside her, pulling her close, lacing his fingers through hers. “We need to make some decisions.”

  “Like what?”

  “Where we’re going to live for starters. This soddy is too small for four people, and mine is practically uninhabitable. What do you say to us building a new house?”

  A soft gasp left her. “How? With what? Do you have money?”

  “I have a little I saved up over the years. I never needed much, so I put aside everything I earned. We’re not destitute by any means.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “But I received a proposition that I want to run by you.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “Owen Vaughn over at the mercantile is having to leave for a while.”

  “That’s old news. I heard he’s going to settle his father’s estate and expects to be gone for at least six months—or so Tally says.”

  Travis stared at her. She was sick and bedridden for weeks. How could she know this? “I guess I’m a little behind on the grapevine. Anyway, he asked me to take over in his absence.”

  �
��That’s wonderful!”

  “Not only that, but he has that big house and offered it to us while he’s gone.” He drew lazy circles on Rebel’s arm. “I figure we can build our house in that length of time.”

  Rebel was quiet for so long he thought she’d drifted off. Finally, she sniffled. “I don’t know what to say. It’s too generous. The people here truly are amazing. They open their hearts and let you walk in.”

  “Yes, they do. I take it that’s a yes on accepting?”

  “A very positive yes.”

  “I hope you’re ready to work because it’s not going to be easy.”

  “As long as you’re with me, I can do anything.”

  Ten

  Rebel woke early on her wedding day to an empty bed and stretched. This was it. This was the day she’d waited for her whole life.

  She rose and dressed. Though still weak, she was making progress. Each day saw more and more improvement. She glanced out the window, and the snow falling softly didn’t even spoil her mood. Whatever happened didn’t make any difference and wasn’t going to ruin her plans.

  Thankfully, Travis had brought in a good supply of wood and had the stove going. She hummed a happy tune. From now until eternity, they’d be together in the same bed with his strong arms around her.

  “Mornin’, Mama.” Jenny wandered to the kitchen area to hug Rebel.

  The word mama made her breath catch. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?”

  “I dreamed you were wearing angel wings.”

  “Angel wings?” Rebel laughed. “Honey, I doubt that’ll ever happen.”

  “You were so pretty, and you said you loved me.”

  Rebel pulled out a chair at the table and sat Jenny in her lap. “I love you more than you’ll ever, ever know, and I’ll never stop.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Ely climbed from the loft. “Mama, I can’t find my best shirt to wear to the wedding.”

  Again, the word mama brought unexpected happiness.

  “I’ll find it, honey. What would you like for breakfast?”

  The meal passed in a blur. She and Travis gave Ely and Jenny each their one gift. The children tore into them in record time and grinned at the unexpected treasures.

  Rebel pulled a small box from her pocket and handed it to Travis. “Merry Christmas.”

  His eyes met hers. “We never talked about exchanging gifts.”

  “It’s something of my father’s, and I want you to have it. Open it.”

  He flipped the lid up and removed the gold watch chain. “This is really nice. Are you sure you want to part with an heirloom?”

  “I do. It’ll finally replace that old piece of frayed leather. Besides, it’s still in the family.”

  “I’ll look like a banker with this hanging from my watch pocket.” He grinned and kissed her, then reached behind him for a small package. “This is for you.”

  Rebel tore open the paper and gasped at a tortoise-shell hair comb adorned with sparkly crystals on one end. “I’ve never seen anything so pretty. This is the perfect touch for my dress. I love you, Travis Lassiter.”

  “I’m glad you like it, darlin’.”

  They attended church and lit the last Advent candle, then had the lunch that Nora and Tally had prepared. Finally, that afternoon, Nora and Tally shooed Travis out and locked the door. They assisted Rebel with her wedding dress and declared her the most beautiful bride they’d ever seen. Tally fixed her hair, arranging it up high with loose tendrils of dark hair trailing down and framing her face. The crowning touch was the hair comb Travis had given her.

  Before she knew it, her friends had left and Travis stood at the door looking like a prosperous businessman or lawyer. Gone were his worn shirt and trousers, replaced by a new three-piece dark suit, the gold watch chain hanging from his pocket, his hair curling possessively around his collar. This was probably the first time she’d ever seen him minus his gun and holster. Goosebumps pimpled her skin, thinking about later.

  His deep voice aroused tingles. “Are you ready?”

  Rebel stood on shaky legs, her red dress forming a circle of satin around her. Travis seemed to have trouble swallowing, and his eyes glowed with happiness.

  “You’re the most beautiful vision I’ve ever seen.” He kissed the tender flesh behind her ear, leaving a trail of warmth, and her knees turned to pudding.

  She slid an arm around his neck. “I’m glad I’m snatching you up while I can before the single women here push me aside. You’re a handsome man, Travis Lassiter, and I’m proud to be yours.”

  With a growl, he swept her into his arms. “Ely, can you get the door?”

  “Yes, Pa.” Ely grinned, and Jenny stood beside him flicking her hands in excitement.

  Two horses waited outside, and one had red ribbon decorating its bridle and saddle. Leading away from the house was a trail lit on each side with softly burning red candles.

  Tears stung the back of Rebel’s eyes. She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Travis.”

  “You like it?”

  “It takes my breath. You’re a very romantic man.”

  He chuckled and sat her on the decorated horse. “Please don’t tell my wife, or she’ll expect me to do things like this all the time.”

  “I think your secret is out.” Rebel threw back her head and laughed, loving this life and this man who filled her whole world with such joy.

  After lifting Ely and Jenny onto the second horse, he gathered the reins of both and walked toward the church, leading them. Rebel felt like a queen. She could hardly breathe because of sheer happiness. To think that she had almost missed this, and would have if not for Travis’s voice full of anguish and love that had kept her anchored to this life.

  The service that afternoon was everything Rebel had envisioned. Candles flickered along the walls and from every corner. The door to the packed church opened, and Eleanor slipped inside.

  Rebel smiled. Baby steps led to bigger ones.

  While organ music played, she walked toward Travis with Ely and Jenny on either side.

  Then she took her place next to him, put her hand in his, and vowed to stand beside him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others.

  As if she had eyes for anyone but Travis.

  He was her future, her destiny, her one true love for all time.

  * * *

  Darkness found her with Travis, his arm bracing her, watching the children dance around the Christmas tree, singing at the top of their lungs. Men raised their guns and fired into the midnight sky as the church bell tolled.

  Hope’s Crossing, the town of outlaws, was celebrating the birth of Jesus as only they knew how.

  About the Author

  Linda Broday resides in the Panhandle of Texas on the Llano Estacado. At a young age, she discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. Cowboys fascinate her. There’s something about Stetsons, boots, and tall, rugged cowboys that gets her fired up! A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award and the Texas Gold Award. Visit her at lindabroday.com.

  One

  Haywire, Texas

  1886

  With a nod at the pianist, Holly Sanders turned her attention back to the six elderly people staring at her in waiting silence. Wishing she could plug her ears, Holly braced herself with a quick breath and raised her baton. “One, two, three…”

  As predicted, each singer started on a different beat. Slow as rising bread, their wobbly voices gradually grew louder, assaulting even the uppermost rafters of the old barn used for rehearsals. Unaware that they were singing off-key, the oldsters sang with such joyful abandon that Holly didn’t have the heart to stop them and make them start over.

  From a nearby stall, Romeo the donkey
made no such allowances. Twitching his ears and stomping his foot, he drew back thick lips in protest and added to the dissonant sound with a loud hee-haw. Following his example, Molly the milk cow let out a low, though no less disapproving, moo.

  Not that Holly could blame the barn’s residents. Getting the six to sing in unison was harder than getting rain to fall on command. Forget about tonal deficiencies. If the oldsters would just learn to begin and end a song together, she would consider her job done.

  Holly shot a look of apology to her pianist, Mrs. Brewster. The retired schoolmistress did her best to speed up or slow down on the whim of the singers, but she had the pinched look of a prune.

  Feeling bad for putting the piano player through such an ordeal—not to mention the animals—Holly lowered her baton and groaned inwardly. Dear God. A group of yipping coyotes couldn’t sound worse.

  Still, it did her heart good to see her dear grandfather looking more like his old self. After Grandmama had died, he’d been so melancholy, Holly had feared losing him, too. It was only at Doc Avery’s urging that she agreed to move her grandfather into the Oddfellows Home for the Aged. It turned out to be the right thing to do.

  He now had friends his own age and had gained back some of his old spirit. Unlike the last three years, he also seemed to look forward to Christmas.

  She only hoped that the good citizens of Haywire had a handy supply of cotton for their ears when the group took the stage at the annual Christmas pageant.

  Though her baton remained motionless, the six oldsters seemed unaware that she had stopped directing.

  As much as she liked seeing them have a good time, a body could take only so much discord, and hers had reached its limit. Signaling Mrs. Brewster to stop, Holly banged her baton against the music stand for attention.

  Five singers mercifully fell silent. Oblivious to what was going on around him, her grandfather kept singing.

  And singing.

  It was the fifth night of rehearsal, but the group had shown little if any improvement. Whoever said that practice made perfect had never met her grandfather or his cronies.