Kiss of The Christmas Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  Strong and lithe, she was able to manage the task. She returned the tool to its place, shivering as cold attacked her body through her garments. She closed the barn door to keep as much frigid wind out as possible while she milked the cow. She talked softly to the animal as she placed a short stool near its back legs. She hated to remove her gloves, but she had to do so to get a grip on the cow’s teats. She kept speaking in a mellow tone as she worked as fast as her stiff fingers allowed.

  When she finished, Carrie Sue moved the pail so the cow wouldn’t knock it over if she changed positions. She put away the stool, replaced her gloves, and fed the animal. It would be left inside for its own safety. In a day or two, she would need to shovel its stall to prevent a foul stench from building up in the barn.

  Carrie Sue lifted the full pail and left the barn, making her way to the house with great care. She didn’t want a fall to injure her or the baby. With doors locked and safely back inside her home, the pail joined the egg basket on the kitchen table.

  She removed her coat and scarf, then hung them on their peg. She pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into her coat pocket. She changed from work boots into house shoes. She went to the parlor fire to warm and loosen her fingers. As the heat worked on her hands and body, Carrie Sue relaxed and savored the luxury her husband was missing. She knew Thad wouldn’t be warm and comfortable until he entered this house again.

  At least for a while, she would have chores to distract her from constant worry about her love. There was milk to be churned into butter. There were animals and chickens to be tended. There were fires to be fed. There was cleaning to be done. Warming water to wash clothes and doing that task would require many hours, especially when she included ironing. She also had some mending and sewing to take up more time.

  Yet there were other important things to do. She needed to visit the Adams, perhaps take little Lucy some cookies and a handmade doll. If the weather was good tomorrow, she would do just that without putting herself or their child into danger.

  She would have privacy to finish the shirt she was making for Thad for Christmas. As the special day neared, she could get special food and treats prepared, ornaments ready for the tree she might have to fetch alone, and make the tiny candles she wanted to use on the tree. Yes, she had plenty to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied.

  “You shouldn’t be so scared, woman. T.J. can take care of himself.” She stroked her lower abdomen and murmured, “Don’t you worry, little one; your father will be home soon and learn about you. He’ll be so happy. We don’t care if you’re a boy or a girl, just be born healthy. You’ll add so much to our lives. You’ll grow up safe and happy on our ranch. You won’t experience the heartaches and hardships we did. We’ll be good parents, little one, just wait and see. Next June when you come into the world, we’ll be on the trail to a great life.”

  Carrie Sue was glad she wasn’t having trouble with illness in the mornings as she’d been warned about when she’d believed herself pregnant in July. Her monthly flow had come in August to tell her she was wrong. But September had passed after many glorious nights in her husband’s arms and without the flow she’d expected. Then October and November had passed without any signs of its return. Now December was passing, and she knew she was right this time about carrying Thad’s child. She was ecstatic.

  If her husband had noticed the absence of her woman’s flow, he hadn’t mentioned it. Either he assumed it had occurred when he was gone or he was reluctant to start hoping prematurely.

  “One week, can I wait that long to tell him? If he doesn’t return before Christmas, I’ll have to. Maybe I should have said something before he left. No, I don’t want him thinking about me and the baby instead of keeping his mind on his business. Please protect him, God,” she prayed.

  “Get busy, woman. That milk isn’t going to churn itself. Better get that out of the way before you start that doll and cookies for Lucy.”

  Carrie Sue took the butter and milk to the cabinet on the back porch to keep them fresh. She returned to the kitchen to mix dough for cookies. She hummed as she worked, and thought of how lucky she was.

  The fire in the parlor gave off a steady and comforting blaze. Carrie Sue was snuggled under a quilt before it as she worked on the doll for Lucy. She halted to pat her tummy and say, “If you’re a little girl, I’ll make lots of dolls for you. I wonder if you’ll favor me or your father.”

  She envisioned a small replica of Thad Jamison with black hair and gray eyes. Her heart leapt with joy and anticipation. “What shall we name you, little one?” Many choices raced through her dreamy mind.

  As her wandering gaze touched on one window, she straightened and shrieked, “It’s almost dark, Carrie Sue! Get that stock into the barn.”

  In a hurry, she put aside the doll and quilt over her lower body. She changed into her work boots. She donned her coat, scarf, and gloves. As she stepped out the door, she cautioned herself not to rush.

  The redhead trudged across the frozen yard to the corral. She opened the gate, entered, and refastened it. “Let’s go, boys; time for bed,” she called out, but the stock knew the schedule by now and were waiting near the barn door. “I see I have you well-trained already.” She smiled.

  The steers ambled into a large stall they shared. The horses were placed in separate ones. Doors were closed and bolted. Carrie Sue made certain they had water and feed, just in case the weather prevented her from coming to tend them tomorrow morning.

  Ice crunched under her boots as she returned to the house. At the porch, she grasped the rail to steady herself as she mounted the slippery steps. She glanced back before going inside to see the familiar blue haze settling over the white landscape.

  Somewhere miles away, her husband was preparing to camp for the night. It was too dangerous to continue riding after dark. Soon, he would be working to get a campfire going and his meal warmed. She knew he must be chilled to the bone and miserable, and missing her. One day of separation was gone, leaving only six until Christmas.

  Carrie Sue locked the door and discarded the unneeded items. She went to the hearth to chase the cold from her flesh. When she was warmed, she went back to work on the doll and on Thad’s shirt.

  With the house secure and fires tended, Carrie Sue climbed into bed alone. She curled into a ball until the chill of the covers left. Everything was set for her visit to the Adams tomorrow. Thad’s shirt was finished. She had eaten canned vegetable soup for dinner, a gift from one of their neighbors. She was tired, even sore, from the ice-breaking and churning. She relaxed her body and closed her eyes.

  “Go to sleep, Carrie Sue,” she commanded herself, but feared she was in for a long night alone and anxious. “I love you, T.J., and miss you. If anything happens to you, I’ll hunt down those men and kill them.”

  Her weary mind added, You can bust Darby out of prison to help you!

  Darby . . . she was free, pardoned for her crimes, thanks to her husband. As soon as her beloved brother served his sentence, he would be free, too. Maybe he would go to San Angelo, fetch and marry Sally, and bring her here for their fresh start. How wonderful it would be to live in the same area, to both be ranchers, to have their children grow up together.

  Yes, she wanted her brother nearby. She also wouldn’t mind if Kale Rushton, their half-Apache friend, moved to this area after his release. The doctor from San Angelo, who had treated her after her gunshot and who had been impressed with Kale’s natural medical skills, wanted Kale to train as a doctor and to teach him the ancestral arts Kale had learned from his Indian people. Kale had promised to study the doctor’s books while in prison, then to become the man’s apprentice when he was released. She hoped he kept that vow.

  Of course, the doctor could be dead in fifteen years. Or prison could change dear Kale for the worse. She prayed that wouldn’t happen; she and Kale, and Darby and Kale, had been close since meeting years ago. Kale had been the reason why they had stayed alive, as he’d taught them the
skills his Apache people had taught him. Basically Kale Rushton was a good man, but a troubled one who’d endured a hard life.

  Despite the hardships and perils of outlaw life, she had enjoyed many good times with Kale and Darby. If it had been only the three of them and if Quade Harding, the old man’s son, hadn’t been determined to have her or destroy her—they wouldn’t have remained outlaws very long. As Thad had said, they had been caught in a trap with no way out until it was too late.

  But she didn’t want the other gang members to come near her or her home. She had a new life now, a loving husband, and a family on the way. She didn’t want her dark past to damage this bright dream. Perhaps—and hopefully—in fifteen years, the others would forget about her or would leave her in peace. She had been special to them, so surely they would.

  If not, Thad Jamison would deal with them in his own way! Thad would not mind Darby and Kale living nearby and being a part of their lives, but he wouldn’t allow the others to do so. She couldn’t blame him.

  Carrie Sue ordered her rambling mind to settle down, as it was fretting over events that couldn’t happen for fifteen years. She had written to her brother earlier this month and had sent Darby a Christmas present. She could only hope he received it in that East Texas prison so far away.

  Her mind returned to her husband, home, and baby. Slowly she drifted off to sleep while making beautiful plans for them.

  With morning chores out of the way, Carrie Sue saddled her horse and left the ranch. The gifts she was taking to Lucy Adams were suspended in a cloth sack over her saddle horn. She was bundled up in her thick coat, wool scarf beneath a hat, and leather riding gloves. She was clad in denim breeches, a wool shirt, boots, wool socks, and long johns. She noticed how snug the pants were because of the long johns and her expanding waistline, and she smiled.

  The sun was out today, and the bluish haze had lifted. It was above the freezing mark, so the ice and snow were attempting to melt. Still, when she exhaled, it came forth in smoky pants. For safety, she walked her horse, a surefooted pinto. She heard the suction his hooves made with each step taken. She saw the trail her husband had taken, his tracks beginning to become holes of slush as the white covering softened and slid into them. At least he would have a better day and conditions under which to travel. She prayed once more for his safety and swift return.

  When she reached the location where Thad had continued southward and she was to turn eastward, she gazed in that direction. She saw nothing of man or beast, nothing but the sun sparkling off the white ground.

  Carrie Sue pulled on her reins to guide her mount toward the Adams ranch. Slowly they trudged for over an hour, their cautious pace making the journey longer. At last, she arrived at her destination.

  Tom Adams came out to greet her and to assist her down. “Howdy, Mrs. Jamison. Good to see you, but you shouldn’t be out in conditions like these and with those villains roaming the area.”

  Carrie Sue smiled at the genial man and ignored his gentle reprimand. “I brought little Lucy some treats. How is she today?”

  “Doc’s been to see her. Got her bandaged good. Says she’ll be fine in a week or so. Bullet passed clean through her arm. No broken bone.”

  “Tom, don’t keep Carrie Sue standing out in the cold while you jaw,” the man’s wife admonished him. “Come on in, Carrie Sue. You’ll take a death chill out there.”

  The redhead followed the kind and jolly woman into the house. It was a warm and inviting place. She thanked Tom for assisting her off with her coat, which Mrs. Adams took to hang up during her visit. Carrie Sue doffed her hat, scarf, and gloves. The older woman put them aside, too.

  “What brings you out in weather like this?” Martha inquired.

  Carrie Sue knew the tone of the woman’s voice didn’t carry a trace of unwelcome, only concern. She repeated the reason for her visit, then held up the cloth sack she was holding.

  “Lucy will be happier than a hog wallowing in mud. You best go right in though. I just gave her the doc’s medicine, so she’ll be asleep soon.”

  “I won’t stay long. I know she needs her rest.” Carrie Sue was familiar with the demands of a gunshot from her past, so she knew what the little girl was enduring. She liked the Adams, and they were good neighbors. She enjoyed having friends and doing nice things for them.

  “While you chat with her, I’ll make some hot coffee to thaw you before you go out in that freezing cold again.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Martha. It’s still cold out, even with the sun shining at last. Tom said Lucy’s doing well. I’m glad. T.J. was so worried about her. He’s gone after those two bank robbers; he left at dawn.”

  “Oh my, how awful in this sorry weather, and so near Christmas. I suppose that’s the bad side of being a marshal.”

  “It is, but it’s his job. I just wish he didn’t have to track them alone.”

  The woman looked shocked. “Marshal Jamison went after them two cutthroats alone?”

  “Yes. He figured he could move faster and easier by himself.”

  “I suppose he knows best, but it worries me. I guess he’s been a lawman long enough to know about such things.”

  “Yes, but it’s still dangerous. I hope he gets back soon.”

  “With Christmas and worse weather coming, me too.”

  Martha guided her to the child’s room. The little girl looked pale and small beneath the covers which outlined her size. A cheery blaze burned in a small fireplace, and the room was lovely.

  “Mrs. Jamison is here to see you, Lucy. She brought you a surprise.”

  Carrie Sue approached the bed, bent over, and kissed the girl’s cheek, and asked, “How are you feeling today?”

  In a whispery voice, the child replied, “My arm hurts bad. Papa says it’ll be better in a week. Doc put me a big bandage on it.”

  “I see he did, a very nice one, too. You stay in bed and take care of yourself; and you’ll be up running around soon.”

  The eight-year-old muffled a yawn and her eyes drooped, but she battled to stay awake. Carrie Sue took the doll from the sack and handed it to her. “I hope she’ll keep you company while you’re in bed. I made her yesterday. You’ll have to think up a good name for her.”

  Lucy’s small hands clasped the doll. Made from a sock, with button eyes and stitched features, it was clad in a cotton dress from old material Carrie Sue found in a trunk which had belonged to Mrs. Carnes. Strips of yellow yarn were sewn to the doll’s head to give it blond hair.

  Lucy’s eyes glowed with joy. She hugged the doll to her chest and squeezed it. “Thank you, Mrs. Jamison. I’ll name her Carrie Sue. She’ll stay in bed with me.”

  The redhead was delighted by the child’s happiness. She withdrew her other gift and said, “I also made you some cookies, but you and your doll have to take a nap before you can have some. Agreed?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lucy yawned again and her eyes drooped even more.

  “I’m leaving now so you two can sleep. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Why don’t you have a little girl, Mrs. Jamison?”

  “I’ve only been married since this past summer, Lucy. But Marshal Jamison and I want a baby next summer.” Carrie Sue realized the words had leapt from her joyous heart before she could stop them.

  “Can I come over and play with her?” the child asked excitedly.

  “Of course, you can.” Carrie Sue didn’t lengthen the subject by saying it might be a boy. “You rest now and get well real soon.”

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Jamison. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Lucy, for being such a polite and special little girl.”

  The child was almost asleep before the two women could leave the room. Martha quickly asked, “You’re expecting a baby?”

  “Yes,” Carrie Sue whispered in the hallway. “But don’t tell anyone. I haven’t even told T.J. yet. I just realized it was true, and I didn’t want to worry him while he was gone.”

  “I understand. Men can b
e funny creatures about such things. You be real careful riding home, and don’t be doing too much hard work. Take care of yourself over there alone. If you need anything, you can count on me and Tom. I’ll get him to check on you every few days while Thad’s away.”

  “Thank you, Martha. That’s very kind of you two.”

  “I like having you as a neighbor, Carrie Sue. Horace and Dorothy Carnes were alright, but she wasn’t too friendly. Frail thing, too. Shame she died in childbirth like that.” Recalling the news she had just learned and thinking she had made a careless and cruel slip, Martha flushed. “You don’t have to worry about nothing like that. You’re a strong woman.”

  Carrie Sue embraced the woman and smiled. “I know.”

  Martha left her to prepare the coffee. Tom asked Carrie Sue to have a seat in their parlor. He sat in a chair, his chores done for a while.

  Carrie Sue remarked, “That’s a fine daughter, Tom. T.J. and I were so glad she wasn’t injured badly. T.J. felt terrible about not being around to stop that trouble, but a lawman can’t work all the time.” She had to question one point that troubled her. In fact, the curious matter hadn’t struck her until this morning. “Tom, what was the bank doing open on Sunday evening? Why were you and little Lucy there?”

  Tom looked surprised. “Didn’t John tell you when he came to your ranch?” After she shook her head, he added, “Thad didn’t tell you either?”

  Carrie Sue shook her head again. “What happened?”

  “Lord have mercy, Carrie Sue, it was terrible. We were over to the Maxwells for Sunday supper. Those two outlaws rode in and took us all prisoner. They took Max, me, and Lucy to the bank. They used her to force Max to open the safe. One of those bastards, excuse my language, saw a pistol inside the safe and jumped at Max. His gun went off and he got Lucy in the arm. They grabbed the money and rode off. I feared they were gonna kill us all. I never seen anybody as mean as Sawyer and Reeves. I hope Thad guns them down!” he nearly shouted, his rage renewed.