The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  Jane, Rena, and Edie were standing at the window as Christina strode across the yard toward them. Out by the barn, they could see the kids gathered around the sleigh helping MJ, Rowland, and Frank untie the ropes securing a pine tree that filled the whole sleigh. Mitch and Celeste had gone into the barn, leading their horses. Celeste was walking a little stiffly, but other than that all seemed to be fine. That had been several minutes ago, and the two of them hadn’t yet reappeared.

  “Tina looks pretty happy,” June observed. “So I’m assuming everything went okay.”

  “I hope so,” Edie replied. “Before they left, I told her to come in and give us a full report.”

  They stood back as Tina opened the door, came into the covered entryway, and removed her boots and coat. Her cheeks were a rosy red, as was the tip of her nose. She lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi.” She moved to the fire and started rubbing her hands together.

  “Well?” Edie asked when Tina said nothing more.

  There was a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Well, what?”

  “You know what!” June exclaimed. “How did Celeste do?”

  Tina motioned to the couch. “She did incredibly well,” she said as they sat down. “Dad asked Celeste if she wanted to curry Balline. She didn’t know what that meant, so Dad explained. And guess what she said? Even though she’s pretty cold right now, she said yes. She’ll be inside in a few minutes. I came in because I knew you three would be bursting with questions.”

  “You got that right,” June said. “So tell us everything.”

  Tina sat back. “By the time we all got to the barn this morning, it was obvious that Celeste was very nervous. No, nervous is too soft a word. Terrified is more like it. She was pale as a sheet, and I could see her hands trembling. She looked like she was about to throw up. But Dad was great with her. Really tender. He let her stay back while he went up and began petting Balline. All the while he talked to Celeste in this quiet voice, telling her how intelligent horses are and how they like to know who is riding on their backs. He invited her to come closer, and she finally did. But I thought she was going to faint. Frank tried to talk her out of it until Dad gave him one of his looks. Then he asked Celeste if she would like to come and pet Balline.”

  “And she said yes?” Rena asked.

  “Finally. It took probably three or four minutes before she got up enough nerve. When she finally started rubbing the horse’s forehead, Balline half closed her eyes like she does.” Tina grinned. “You know how she is, Mom. Like she’s saying, ‘Oh, that feels so good. Don’t stop.’ And that seemed to be the turning point for Celeste. She turned to Frank grinning like a little kid and said, ‘I think she likes me.’” Then suddenly, Tina’s eyes teared up. “She was incredibly brave, Mom. She wanted so badly to show us that she is not all glitz and glamor. I was so proud of her.”

  “And what happened when it came time for her to get on?” Edie asked.

  “Once she was in the saddle she froze for a few seconds, but Dad pretended not to see and asked me to take the reins and lead Balline outside the barn. Then finally, without a word to Celeste, Dad took the reins from me and handed them up to her. Then he turned to the rest of us. ‘Well, come on, family,’ he said. ‘Celeste is ready. Why are all of you standing around gawking at nothing?’”

  Rena asked, “So did Frank stay right with her?”

  “At first. I rode on one side of her, and Frank on the other. And Dad was going real slow with the sleigh, of course. But after about ten minutes, Celeste turned to Frank and in this gruff voice she barked at him, ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Frank, I’m not going to fall off. Stop hovering over me.’ I laughed right out loud at Frank’s expression. But when he saw that Celeste was just about to burst with pride, he leaned across and touched her hand. Then in a choked up voice he said, ‘I love you, Celeste Dickerson Westland.’” Tina had to stop and swallow. “I thought I was going to burst out bawling right there. It was amazing. I am so glad that she is in our family.”

  June turned and looked out the window. “Well, here they come. And the kids are running. I think we’d better feed them before we even think about setting up the tree.”

  “Agreed,” Edie said, “but there’s one thing that I’d like to do before everyone sits down. You three hold them in the living room for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  It took several minutes to get everyone quieted down, but when they were settled, Edie raised one hand. “Thank you. I know you’re all hungry and anxious to start decorating the tree, but I want to say something before we start all of that.” She turned to where Frank and Celeste stood together. Celeste had Reginald in her arms now, and Frank stood beside her, his arm around her shoulder.

  Edie went on. “Christmas has long been a happy time in our little home here in San Juan County, but this one is especially memorable, because two people that we love very much have made a very long and difficult trip so they could be with us this year.”

  “Hear, hear,” Rena said. And everyone started to clap.

  “And what’s more, they brought a third person with them, a handsome young man by the name of Reginald Arnold Dickerson Westland. And for that we are especially grateful.”

  More applause. The children joined in enthusiastically. Celeste nuzzled her son, speaking to him softly.

  “And one last thing.” Edie let her gaze sweep across the group and finally let it stop on Celeste. “Could we have Celeste come forward, please?”

  Celeste looked startled as she came forward. “What is it, Grandma Westland?”

  Edie smiled as she put her arm around her daughter-in-law’s waist and then turned her so she faced the family. Then she stepped back and picked up a piece of paper that was folded in half. There wasn’t a sound now as every eye was on the two of them.

  “Knowing Celeste,” Edie began somberly, “she won’t want a big speech or the other accolades that go with this award, so without further ado—” She stepped forward and handed the paper to Celeste. “We think it is self-explanatory.”

  Celeste took it and opened it, holding it so that no one else could see. For several seconds, there was no reaction. She just stared at it. When her head finally lifted, tears were shining in her eyes. She turned to face Edie and started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, she threw her arms around her mother-in-law and clung to her. “Thank you, Grandma Westland. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Edie replied, her own voice husky with emotion. “And Celeste, when you feel comfortable with it, I’d love it if you called me Edie.”

  “What is it, hon?” Frank called.

  “Yeah!” Tina cried. “Tell us, Celeste.”

  Slowly Celeste turned back and read the paper to herself again. Finally, she turned it around and held it up for all to see. What they saw was a sheet of plain paper with carefully hand-lettered writing on it. There were four large words in block lettering that had been colored in with red crayon. Celeste read it aloud for all to hear: “Celeste Dickerson Westland is hereby officially declared to be the newest lifetime member of THE SISTERHOOD OF THE WIND, for women who ride like the wind. Presented by Edna Rae Westland, President and Charter Member.”

  December 23, 1923, 10:42 p.m.—EDW Ranch

  Frank removed his stockings, tossed them in the general direction of his shoes, and pulled back the covers to get in beside Celeste. The room was faintly lit by the outdoor light his parents had put in between the house and the barn. “You asleep?” he whispered.

  “No. Not even close.”

  “You should be. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Two big days ahead.”

  “That’s why I’m awake. I’m lying here thinking of everything that has to be done.”

  Frank slid closer to her. Celeste rolled onto her side to face him and moved into his arms. “In that little meeting we had this evening with ‘just us girls,’ as J
une likes to say, your mother laid out everything that has to be done. My head was swimming by the time we finished.”

  Frank chuckled. “That’s my mom. Christmas is a really big deal to her.”

  “I know it is, and I love that. That’s what I want our Christmases to be when we are their age—the children and grandchildren around us, the excitement in the air, the kids scurrying around secretly making presents for each other, something always baking in the oven, the smell of pine in the air, stringing popcorn to hang on the tree.” She snuggled in closer, tucking her head under his chin. “It all sounds exhausting. But it’s wonderful. I love it. I’m so glad you talked me into coming, Frank.”

  “I am too,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Though I must say, I’m getting a little jealous. My family adores you. Me, I’m lucky if I get a hello in the morning.”

  She punched him on the shoulder. “That’s not true.”

  “It is. And you making me go to church this morning only made it more so.”

  “I didn’t make you. I asked you.” She giggled softly. “Somewhat forcefully, I admit.”

  “Let’s see,” Frank mused. “I think your exact words were, ‘Frank, we are going to church whether you like it or not. So let’s not hear any more about it.’”

  Celeste sobered. “We needed to do that with them, Frank.”

  “Isn’t that a little hypocritical? I’ve only been to church once since I came to Boston. And your family only attends Mass on Christmas and Easter.”

  “But you’ve told me how small towns are, how everyone knows everyone,” Celeste replied. “If we had stayed home, people would have been asking your parents about us. They know we’re here visiting. So it would have been embarrassing for your parents to try to explain why we didn’t come with them.”

  Frank sighed but said nothing. Celeste was right, but it still galled him a little. Church had been quite awkward for him, just as he knew it would be. Everyone wanting to know how things were in Boston. Some asking how big the branch of the Church was there, or what his calling was, or whether he was still planning to go on a mission.

  “I like your family very much, Frank,” Celeste was saying. “Your parents especially. I’m glad we went to church with them.”

  Frank leaned down and kissed her softly. “I’m glad we did too. And yes, my family is great. I want to tell you something that happened last night. When I was coming to bed, as I was walking down the hall past Mom and Dad’s bedroom, I heard them talking. About you, actually.”

  “They were?” Celeste sounded surprised.

  “Yes. So I . . . uh . . . slowed down a little.”

  “You mean that you eavesdropped?”

  “Um . . . let’s just say that I stopped to . . . tie my shoelace.”

  “Right,” Celeste retorted. “As I remember, when I went to bed, you were already in your stocking feet.”

  “Do you want to hear this or not?” Frank asked gruffly.

  Laughing, Celeste looked up. “Of course I do. What were they saying?”

  “Dad was asking Mom how she thought things were going for us, especially for you.”

  “Oh? And what did she say?”

  “She said, ‘Better than I expected, to be honest.’”

  “Those were her exact words?”

  “Yes. Then she said that it’s been wonderful. My dad mentioned that you deeply impressed him that day you rode the horse. And my dad is not easily impressed.”

  “I wanted to impress all of them.” Celeste looked up at her husband. “Including you.”

  “And you did. I was so proud of you. But Dad—when he turned to me and said that he thought you were ‘dang cute,’ he meant much more than how you looked. He was saying, ‘All right, now. Here is a woman I respect and admire.’”

  “Really?” The hope in Celeste’s voice was tangible.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Thank you, Frank. And thank you for insisting I come.” Another minute passed, and then she spoke softly. “Frank?”

  “Hmm?” It was a sleepy sound.

  “Did you know that I didn’t ride Balline just to impress your family?”

  Frank grunted but then came up on one elbow. “Why then?”

  “I. . . .” Celeste let out her breath slowly. “I was terrified, you know. When it came time to actually climb up into the saddle, my hands were trembling so badly that I had to shove them in my pockets.”

  “Yes. I saw that.”

  “I wanted to show your family that I am not a pampered little rich girl. But it was more than that. Suddenly I wanted to know if I could do it. ” Now Celeste sat up and turned to face Frank, her face partially in shadow. “I had to know that I am more than a spoiled little rich girl.”

  Frank sat fully up now too. He slid closer and took Celeste in his arms. “And you proved that you’re so much more than that. You proved that to them, and you proved it to yourself.”

  Celeste threw her arms around Frank’s neck and buried her face against him. “Thank you, Frank. Who would have guessed that I had to come out to a cattle ranch in the middle of nowhere to find out that you really, really do love me?”

  December 25, 1923, 8:25 a.m.

  Mitch Westland looked around the living room with a touch of dismay. Paper and boxes and ribbons and nutshells and bits of string and pieces of popcorn virtually covered the floor. “Looks like a tornado hit.”

  Edie sighed and got to her feet. “Or maybe a dozen.”

  “But they were good tornados, Dad,” Benji said. “This is really swell. I got everything I wanted.”

  Mitch motioned to his three youngest children. “All right, kids, the moms are going to start breakfast while we clean up this mess. And please do it quietly,” he added, “so you don’t wake Reginald.”

  “No, Dad!” Benji cried. “Me and Abby want to try out our new sleds!”

  “And my new toboggan and snow pants,” Tina chimed in. “We’ll clean up when we come back. Promise.”

  “No,” Edie said. “Dinner’s at one. Everyone will be here by then. We need to get breakfast over with so we can start dinner. And I need the three of you to take our popcorn balls to all the neighbors and wish them merry Christmas.”

  “Aw, Mom!”

  As Celeste joined Edie in the kitchen, she was smiling. “Those are Benji’s two favorite words, aren’t they? ‘Aw, Mom.’”

  “You can say that again. He says them about a hundred times a day.”

  Benji ignored that. “Come sledding with us after breakfast, Celeste! Please? MJ helped us clear a path on Rooster Hill, and there’s enough snow for great sledding.”

  “Why not?” Celeste said, turning to Frank. “Are you going?”

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t been sledding since I was seventeen. You bet I’m going.”

  “Well, I have never been sledding,” Celeste said, “and it sounds a little scary, but—” She looked at Tina and smiled. “If Tina will let me raid her wardrobe again, count me in.”

  “Of course,” Tina said. “And I’ve got some extra snow boots, too.”

  “Neat!” Benji cried. And with that, he started cleaning up the mess with actual enthusiasm.

  Edie touched Celeste on the shoulder. “I can get breakfast on. You go change. Be sure you put on warm socks.”

  December 25, 1923, 2:35 p.m.—EDW Ranch

  “All right,” Edie called, raising her hands for quiet. “Is everyone ready?”

  “Everyone” included nineteen people now, only eight of whom were adults. Children ranged from Christina, who would turn fifteen tomorrow, down to baby Claire, who was one month and three days old. Fortunately, all three of the babies were asleep in various bedrooms. The children were still talking excitedly about what they had received for Christmas, but after a moment they quieted and the room settled down.

/>   Edie announced, “I know we have opened most of our gifts, but Grandpa held out on us. He has one last gift that he wants to give to the whole family.” She turned and cupped a hand to her mouth. “Okay, Grandpa. We’re ready.”

  Mitch appeared in the hallway that opened into the living room. He carried something that was covered with a blanket and took both arms to hold. Even though the others couldn’t see what it was, it brought an immediate chorus of oohs and ahs. It was large and round, almost like a small barrel.

  “What is it, Gwampa?” Little Rena cried, clapping her hands in her excitement.

  “Yeah,” Tina echoed. “What is it?”

  Mitch ignored them and made his way through the children sitting on the floor until he stood before the fireplace. Careful to keep his surprise covered, Mitch set the large item down on the hearth. There was a distinctive clunk of glass on stone.

  “It’s a bottle or a big jar,” Noah cried, straining to see better.

  Mitch just smiled. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to let you ask me yes-or-no questions about it. If you guess what it is, I’ll remove the blanket.”

  Hands shot up all around. Mitch pointed to Edna June, MJ’s second child. “Yes?”

  “Is it a pot or a jar?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Is it a bottle?” Abby sang out.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Noah, the oldest of the grandchildren, was next. “Is it that two-gallon jar of pickles you and Grandma bought in Moab this summer?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Ew!” Charles cried. “You’re giving us pickles for Christmas?”

  “No. Definitely not.” Mitch was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

  “Is there food of some kind in the bottle?” Frank asked.

  “No. Not anymore.”

  “Presents?” Edie asked. She was as mystified as the kids. Mitch had refused to even hint at what the gift was.

  “No.”

  “Something we can wear?” That was from Celeste.

  “No.”