Woodland Christmas

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  “Miss Pickett.”

  He couldn’t stop staring. And not just because of her filthy face. The bonnet on her head screamed its colors loud enough to be heard in the next state. What would possess a woman to buy such a thing?

  “That’s my mule.”

  She spoke, but he didn’t like what he heard. “Pardon?” He frowned, daring her to restate her claim. The beast might be willful, but he’d be hanged before he’d let a dirty gypsy girl steal it from him.

  “I said that’s my mule.”

  Her statement sounded much more timid the second time, convincing him she spoke a lie. Then her jaw jutted.

  “My mule, my saddle, and my belongings.”

  The creature being fought over yanked so hard, it spun Caleb’s horse around. By the time Caleb managed to get both animals under control, his temper had flared. He glared at the woman.

  “Prove it.”

  “What?”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  She looked into the sky like she’d find the answers there. “Let’s see. There’s some changes of clothing, another bonnet, a diary, a brush and comb, a small mirror, hopefully not broken—” She ticked off each named item on her fingers, making his doubts of her honesty shrink and his impatience soar. “Oh, there’s also some doctoring tools.”

  Now she’d gone too far. “You claiming to be a doctor?”

  And why was Gabe sitting there like a mute? He’d been plenty talkative earlier.

  “Oh no.” While the corners of her mouth turned up, her eyes changed from challenging to sad. “They belonged to the man who raised me. When he died, I kept them as a reminder.”

  His displeasure dissolved into bewilderment. This girl didn’t fit into the mold of any he’d known before. She’d gone from dazed to timid, then commanding to solemn. But he wouldn’t let his confusion blind him to the fact this might be an act. She could be a swindler. She certainly looked the part.

  After tying the rope to his saddle horn, Caleb dismounted and rummaged through the bag. Everything she’d mentioned lay inside along with a few she’d missed, including a pistol. Did she leave that off the list on purpose? Did she know how to use it?

  What he had to do next didn’t set well. He looked up to apologize and found Gabe wearing a wide grin. Much as he wanted to wipe it off the old wood-carver’s face, Caleb knew he deserved more than a humiliating smile.

  “My apologies, Miss Pickett. It’s just that it’s hard to give up this dunderheaded mule when he gave me fits trying to catch him.”

  Her laughter grated on him. “What’s so funny?”

  She raised her hand. “I’m sorry. I understand completely. He’s the very reason I look a mess.”

  If she only knew. He reached into her bag, pulled out the mirror, and handed it to her. Her gasp shamed him further as he silently berated himself for being quick to judge. When her embarrassment changed the color of her face, he knew he should look away, but the blotches growing on her neck fascinated him. Only when she huffed and turned away did he alter his attention.

  “I’ll just, um, tie your mule to the back of the wagon.”

  The dirt on the road took the brunt of his exasperation when he couldn’t kick himself. He’d never been at such a loss for words before. Worst of all, a woman made him feel this way. He peeled the hat off his head and slapped it against his leg. How could a slip of a girl manage to twist his tongue into a knot? If he were honest, his mind and stomach were in a bit of a tangle, too.

  “Don’t let it get to you, son.”

  Gabe’s appearance forced Caleb to get ahold of himself. Without answering, he slammed his hat back in place and pulled the mule closer so he could tie the rope to the wagon.

  “Some women just have that effect on men. Nothing unusual about that.”

  Caleb jerked the rope into a tight knot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She doesn’t affect me.”

  Gabe chuckled. “Yep, I can see that.” He leaned against the back of the wagon and scratched the mule between the eyes, then up between its ears.

  Caleb recognized the look moving over the old man’s face. The carver had talked a lot over the last few days, but every bit of his chatter proved filled with sage advice.

  “I learned long ago that it’s best not to judge people till you get to know them. I’ve met those who could make themselves sparkle on the outside but were rotten clean through. Then there are some who can’t pretty themselves up no matter how hard they try, but their heart is pure gold.” Gabe crossed his arms. “Near as I can tell, this little lady’s as good as they come. I’d like to help her for however long she decides to stay with us.”

  Warmth radiated through Caleb’s chest, as though just by standing near Gabe, his decency transferred into him. He’d never met a man like him and felt blessed to call him a friend.

  He clapped Gabe on the back. “Then let’s do just that. I think I owe it to her after almost stealing her mule.”

  A chuckle rumbled through Gabe. “I was right proud of her for standing up to you. I almost hated that you backed down. That would have made for one exciting tugging match.”

  Caleb laughed. “I didn’t back down.”

  “Nope. You finally started showing good sense.” He pushed from the wagon. “I think we’d best get more miles under our belt before dark, or we won’t get to Tremble tomorrow. I’m going to need all the time I can get if you want that bedstead finished by Christmas.”

  Tremble. The thought of home brought a smile to Caleb’s face. “Then let’s get going.”

  Prepared to receive another scowl from the young lady, what he found instead when she stepped down from the wagon sucked the wind right out of him. The raccoon-eyed, straggle-haired girl he’d left minutes ago had transformed into a creamy-skinned beauty. The hideous bonnet had disappeared, too, revealing hair almost as dark as his horse.

  A smile lit her face. “I’d begun to think you two had jumped on Skeeter’s back and hightailed it out of here to escape the ugly hag you’d picked up.”

  “I—we—” Not only did she steal his breath, but his words were gone, too.

  Gabe elbowed him as he walked past. “What our tongue-tied companion is trying to say is that we don’t know what ugly hag you’re talking about. But the little lady we found sure cleans up nice.”

  Pink tinged her cheeks as she dipped her head. “Thank you.”

  “We need to get moving. Isn’t that right, Caleb? We’d like to make it to the river before stopping for the night.”

  “Yes, right.” Caleb gestured down the road. “The river.”

  “All right. Let me just put the mirror back in the bag.”

  She moved past, a noticeable hitch to her step. Did she get hurt while tussling with that stubborn brute? He rushed to her side and grasped her arm.

  “You all right, Miss Pickett? Are you hurt?”

  She shook loose and sent him another scowl. Now what’d he say to earn her ire?

  “I’m fine. Just a little stiff.” She stopped and turned, her expression contrite. “Would you call me Emma? Miss Pickett makes me sound as old as I feel. And after all that walking today, I’m feeling mighty old.”

  Caleb tore his gaze from her and went to fetch his horse. He could hear his father now. “Better to focus on work than women.” Easy for him to say. He’d never laid eyes on Emma Pickett.

  Chapter 2

  Emma gaped at the huge iron archway. Centered at the top, an ornate K announced the owners. In the distance, a mansion sat atop a distant knoll surrounded by monstrous pines. Gabe’s slack jaw mirrored her shock.

  Emma leaned forward on the wagon seat in search of Caleb. “You’re rich?” Caleb’s mouth fell open, but she didn’t let him respond. “All you talked about yesterday and today was how you toiled and sweated at the sawmill.”

  The leather of Caleb’s saddle creaked as he urged his horse closer. “I’m not rich. My parents are.” “Same thing.”

  Emma eyed the large house. S
he didn’t know many rich folk, but those she knew had only given her trouble. Same for Doc. Being a humble man, he accepted it and went on his way. She never learned the trait. At best, she stored up the hurt and anger and avoided them. Most times they reciprocated. Once they saw her shabby clothes, their noses went in the air with a sniff. If they noticed her limp, they couldn’t get away fast enough, a good many of them imitating her gait while laughing.

  “You have something against the rich?” Caleb’s question pulled her attention back to him. “I might.”

  He slumped. “Does that mean you won’t stay and work for my mother like we agreed? You said you needed the money.”

  She looked around. No question, the location was beautiful. But was it worth putting up with the meanness and attitude she received from the well-to-do? Doubtful.

  “I think I’ve got enough to get me where I’m going.” She clambered to the ground. “I guess this is where we part ways.”

  Gabe jumped down beside her. “You sure you want to do this, little miss?” He grasped her elbow. “It’s dangerous out there. I’d hate for something bad to happen.”

  The tremor in his voice stopped her. In such a short time, he’d become dear to her. He was so kind and wise. Maybe even more wise than Doc. On impulse, she hugged him around the neck.

  “I’ll be fine, Gabe. I’ve been on my own before.”

  “For how long? Doc’s only been gone … what?”

  She pulled back to see his eyes. “Two weeks.” She tried to smile. “I can take care of myself. You’ll see.”

  “How will I see? You coming back?”

  This time she did smile. “I might do that, once I find the person I’m looking for.”

  “In Woodville?”

  Caleb’s question caught her off guard, and she spun around. She didn’t realize he knew her destination. Gabe must have told him. “That’s where I’m starting.”

  The scowl on his face deepened. “Must be a mighty important person to make you go off gallivanting by yourself.”

  Typical. Why was it when a man left, it was called traveling or seeking adventure, but a woman’s trip was considered gallivanting? She tromped behind the wagon, lifted her bag from the back, and tied it to Skeeter’s saddle. The action woke the critter from his snooze. The ornery brute snorted, tossed his head, and flung his hoof back, narrowly missing her. Rotten beast.

  She shot a glance at Caleb. “The person isn’t important. My business with him is.”

  Caleb’s eyebrows rose. “Him?”

  She refused to fill in the details and struggled to climb onto the saddle. Gabe helped get her leg and skirt over Skeeter’s rump. Once finished, he placed his hand over hers.

  “If I can’t stop you from going, at least promise you’ll be careful, little one. Promise you’ll contact me if you need help.”

  She gave his hand a squeeze. “You’ve got my word. But I really will be fine.” She leaned down and gave him one last hug. “Don’t worry, Gabe.”

  “I’ll be praying. Every day.” His words barely made it to her ears as he turned to untie the reins then held them out to her.

  “Thank you. And thank you both for your help.” Her gaze encompassed Caleb. “You came along when I needed you most.”

  She reached out to shake his hand. He grasped hard and wouldn’t let go. His intense eyes held hers. “How can I change your mind?”

  Her heart lurched, and she almost gave in. Almost. She forced her pounding heart to settle. “You can’t. I have to do this.”

  Emma reined Skeeter toward the road and thumped his ribs with the stirrups. A second kick got him moving, though his steps were stiff and jarring. No doubt his attempt to let her know of his discontent. She wasn’t in much better shape. She’d enjoyed the company of the men and wasn’t ready to say good-bye.

  Don’t look back. People who look back only find trouble. That’s what Doc always told her.

  Gabe’s voice urging his horse on drifted past her. Skeeter must have heard it, too. He craned his neck. Emma pulled on the rein to keep him going straight. Rebellion, pure and simple, took hold. Skeeter yanked his head back around, almost wrenching the reins from her grasp. His body soon followed his head.

  “Stop it, Skeeter.”

  He fought her every attempt to turn him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  She jerked harder. He broke into a trot. She hauled back on the reins until they were up past her ears. His hind end pitched up, almost unseating her. The beast took off at a run toward Gabe and Caleb. Emma grabbed the pommel and wrapped her legs around Skeeter’s belly for support. Skeeter veered around the wagon and kept running, head down, toward the house. Emma could only hang on for dear life so she wouldn’t end up in a heap again, much like the bonnet that flew from her head.

  Skeeter planted his feet and skidded to a stop in front of the house. Emma flew forward. The pommel shoved into her stomach while her face smacked against the mule’s neck. Nose throbbing, Emma slid from the saddle and checked for blood.

  Nothing. But there would be, after she skinned the hide off the willful mongrel.

  She shook her finger at Skeeter. “You dirty, rotten, good-for-nothing mule.”

  Skeeter snorted and shook his head.

  Emma propped her hands on her hips. “How did Doc ever put up with you?”

  Skeeter’s eyes closed halfway as if he were bored. Emma’s temper rose further.

  “Listen to me, you worthless animal. Doc deserved so much better than you.”

  With each word, Skeeter’s head sank lower. Could it be? Was it possible he missed Doc, too? Was that why he acted so obstinate? Maybe he sought the man he’d served for so many years.

  “Oh, Skeeter.” Emma reached down to lift his head. “I’m sorry.” She scratched between his eyes. “You poor old soul.” “Excuse me.”

  Emma gasped. Heat crept from her curled toes up into her face. How much did this person see and hear? Horrified, she peeked over her shoulder. A woman old enough to be her mother stood with her hands clasped in front of her, the slightest smile curving her lips. Her dress, though simple, was made with the finest material and lace. Had to be the owner’s wife.

  Emma dipped into a curtsy. “My deepest pardons, ma’am. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  The woman’s full smile appeared. “Oh, you didn’t—”

  Rocks skittered as Caleb reined his horse to a stop. He dismounted and strode up to them. “Emma, are you hurt?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  He stared into her eyes as if seeking the truth. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Glad you changed your mind about leaving.”

  He turned away before she could correct him.

  “Mother!”

  The woman wrapped him in her arms then held him away.

  “Welcome home. You took your sweet time getting back.” She frowned and swatted at him. “You know better than to worry your mother like that.”

  Caleb took her hands in his and kissed her cheek. “I apologize. But I have a good reason.” He moved to his mother’s side and motioned Gabe over. “I’d like you to meet our newest employee.”

  While the three got acquainted, Emma used the time to examine Caleb’s mother. The same eyes that looked upon her son with love held a hollow, indefinable sorrow.

  Their conversation finished, Gabe headed back to the wagon, pausing long enough to pull Emma’s wayward bonnet from inside his coat. “You dropped this.” He handed it to her. “Thought you’d want it back.”

  She made a face when he chuckled.

  “And this”—Caleb spoke to his mother—”is Emma Pickett. I told her you might have some work for her. Maybe cooking or cleaning?”

  “I’m sorry. Emma—?”

  “Pickett.”

  Looking her over head to toe, a strange look passed over the older woman’s face. Shock? Disgust?

  Filled with dread, Emma’s gaze dropped to the bonnet in her hand. Fire roared to life from her neck to her hairline. No wo
nder Caleb’s mother looked so horrified.

  “I don’t have to wear this. I have others. I only wore this because the wide brim provided more protection.” The words poured out in a rush. “My guardian insisted I own it.” You can stop talking now. She curled her lips inward and bit down with her teeth.

  “Guardian?”

  “The man who raised me. He said it looked just like me … all bright and bubbly.” Stop it. This woman made her jittery.

  Mrs. Kelley reached to touch her then drew back, her arms wrapping around her stomach. “It’s fine.”

  “Mother?” Caleb peered into his mother’s face. “Are you sick?”

  She did look a bit peaked. More so now than earlier. Mrs. Kelley patted her son’s hand. “Just a bit. I think I’ll go in and lie down.”

  She only made it a few steps before Caleb stopped her. “Mother, what about Emma?”

  She didn’t turn. “Show her to the women’s quarters. I’ll think about a job and let you know later.” She took two more steps before halting again. This time she turned, her hand at her throat. “It was nice to meet you, Emma. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Emma looked to Caleb when his mother continued to the house. Could she help the woman in some way?

  Caleb held up a finger before chasing down his mother. Emma waited while they had a brief discussion. A helpless expression on his face, Caleb returned and motioned for her to follow.

  “Caleb?”

  He stopped when she called but never looked up. “My sister got married a short while back. The next day, she and her husband moved to Missouri.” He turned his hat in his hands. “Mother misses them, almost like she’s mourning.”

  And here Emma stood, most likely a stark reminder of her loss, upsetting the poor woman.

  “Come.” Caleb grabbed Skeeter’s reins. “Let me get you to your quarters before it gets dark. I’ll put your mule in our barn.”

  His voice was as sad as his mother’s face. Maybe her job would put her in close contact with Mrs. Kelley. The two might offer each other some comfort. The Lord knew Emma wouldn’t mind spending time with a mother figure. She hadn’t had that since her mother died.