Woodland Christmas

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Woodland Christmas Page 24

by Murray, Tamela Hancock


  “I’d like to see that.”

  “So would I.” Gabriella smiled.

  R.C. consulted his pocket watch. “I wish the stableboy would hurry with our horse.”

  “Looks like we’ve got someone else ahead of us in line, too.” Fern nodded toward a fellow traveler standing nearby.

  In spite of Fern’s lowered voice, the man overheard her and didn’t mind striking up a conversation. “Yep, it sure is a shame how long they’re making us wait. Seems everybody wants to get out of here all at once.”

  “So it seems.” R.C. hoped his disinterest would be enough to brush off the man’s attentions.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear y’all earlier. So what are y’all looking for in Dallas? I’m headed that way myself.”

  R.C. bristled at the fellow’s nosiness but didn’t want to be rude in front of the ladies. Boredom probably spurred him to tend to their affairs. “I am on business, and one of the ladies here hopes to find her grandfather.”

  “Is that so? Does her grandfather live near here? If he does, I might know him.”

  R.C. hesitated, especially since two more men joined the first one. But he reasoned it might be a good idea to grasp at any straw, no matter how bent. “We think he lives in a boardinghouse in Dallas, but we can’t be sure.”

  The youngest of the trio answered. “I’m from Dallas. Do you know the name of the boardinghouse?”

  “No, but I understand it’s not the most luxurious.” R.C. sensed the boardinghouse lead wouldn’t be of much help, so he added another clue. “He’s an itinerant wood-carver.”

  The first traveler brightened. “A wood-carver? Why, I think I might know who you’re talking about. The wood-carver I know preaches excellent sermons and gives carvings of Christmas ornaments and figurines to the children. Sometimes he shares his talent with the adults as well. He makes beautiful chairs and tables for people who order them. He doesn’t seem to keep the money for himself, though. At least, not more than it takes to keep body and soul together. You ought to see the clothes he wears. Rags, nearly. But he won’t buy anything new for himself.”

  Gabriella gasped at the description, sounding so close to Aunt Minnie’s letter.

  R.C. threw her a look of caution to let her know he was to handle the conversation. “Do you know where we might find such a man in Dallas?”

  “I don’t rightly know. I do know he lives on the outskirts of town, all to himself. Hermitlike.”

  R.C. pressed. “When did you last see him?”

  The man scratched his chin. “It’s been a few months. He didn’t look so well at the time.”

  Gabriella blurted, “You—you don’t think there’s reason to think …”

  “Of course not.” R.C. patted her shoulder. “By all accounts, your grandfather was a force to be reckoned with. If he was alive a few months ago, I have no doubt he fought off whatever sickness he had.”

  At that moment the stableboy appeared with the men’s ride.

  “Have a good trip, now. Hope you find him.” The stranger doffed his hat, as did his companions.

  As soon as they were in relative privacy, Fern didn’t waste any time posing a query to Gabriella. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “What?”

  “Those terrible descriptions of your grandfather.”

  R.C. wished his sister could hold her tongue. “I’m sure it’s not as awful as they depict.”

  “Perhaps they do tell the truth.” Gabriella’s eyes took on a sad light. “I am sorry he’s living in poverty, but it’s by choice. I’m not surprised he inspires people. That’s just the type of spirit he has. When I was a little girl, he always made me feel special.”

  “It’s a shame your father and he had to argue.”

  R.C. suppressed a groan. At least Fern didn’t come right out and ask about the dispute.

  Gabriella didn’t seem upset about answering. “They argued over money. My grandfather found the Lord and spent what would have been my father’s inheritance—and therefore mine—on the poor. Father never forgave him.”

  R.C. admired the lack of rancor in her voice. “But you can.”

  “Of course she can,” Fern scoffed. “She’s got plenty of money thanks to her father.”

  “Please forgive my sister.” R.C. reached for a teasing remark. “You can see why she’s an old maid.”

  “That’s quite all right, Fern. You do have a point. Why should I be bitter over money? Father has made fortune for himself. I don’t know all the details, since I’m a woman and he won’t share much along those lines with me, but I do know I’ll be comfortable financially all of my days.”

  “So you’re not bitter at all.” Fern tilted her head in a doubtful manner.

  “I try not to be bitter, but I do regret that their dispute caused me to miss out on the loving relationship I could have had with them both. Instead, I had to deal with my father’s hurt feelings and pain. I hope I don’t seem the worse for it, though.”

  “No, your disposition is very sweet.” At once, R.C. was both glad and sorry he’d blurted the observation. Gabriella’s purpose was to find her grandfather, not a husband. Still, she blushed prettily.

  “Father was bitter over the money because he felt his father left him in a bind he didn’t need to be in. But you know what? I think Father is proud of all he was able to accomplish on his own. If Grandfather hadn’t left him without an inheritance, then he never would have had the chance to see what all he could do for himself. I think Grandfather did him a favor in that respect. And he’s just now seeing that.”

  “Yes, a man wants to feel a sense of accomplishment, as though he’s done something with his life,” R.C. agreed.

  “Like marry off your old maid sister?” Fern quipped.

  “No, I think you can accomplish that on your own, if you really want to be married.” R.C. remembered his sister as a sweet baby, and his brotherly instincts surfaced. “If you don’t, I’ll take care of you.”

  Gabriella placed her hand on Fern’s shoulder. “How blessed you are to have a brother who cares so much about you, Fern. That’s priceless.”

  Fern showed no sentimentality. “What will you do once your father dies?”

  R.C. groaned.

  “I’m sorry.” Fern blushed. “Gabriella is trying to teach me tact, but I’m a slow learner.”

  “As the expression goes, ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day.’ “Gabriella smiled at them both. “As for where I’d live, I have family. I am on very good terms with my aunt in Arkansas. She could use an extra pair of hands around the house.”

  “Arkansas. That’s down the road a mighty long piece.” R.C.’s voice sounded regretful, revealing more than he wanted to admit.

  Chapter 5

  With rested steeds, they made better time than R.C. anticipated, and before they knew it, the city of Dallas, dangerous and promising, rose upon the horizon. R.C. knew of a reputable hotel, and after getting the ladies and himself checked into their respective rooms—the women again agreeing to share quarters—he met them in the lobby so they could find a place to eat. He didn’t know about the ladies, but a big, thick steak seared on the outside and deep pink in the center sounded good to him. He reasoned that he deserved the splurge since his new business prospects looked promising.

  The women descended the stairs, and R.C. had to keep from letting out a breath of admiration. Gabriella had looked stunning in her plain but fashionable traveling suit, but in the high-necked green dinner dress she wore, she appeared to be an artist’s rendering of the perfect woman. Her glance caught his for an instant, and he sensed her approval of his appearance as well. He was glad he’d taken extra time to rid himself of his five-o’clock shadow with a fresh shave. He found himself hoping she would draw close enough to him to notice the enticing aroma the shaving cream left on his face and the scent of lavender soap the laundress had used on his shirt.

  As they neared, he could feel their anticipation. Fern grabbed Gabriella’s hand. “Isn’t t
his exciting! Oh, I do hope we see some outlaws. Maybe even a shoot-out.”

  R.C. tried not to look embarrassed. The hotel was among the best in town, but what if the wrong person overheard her remarks? “Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, you don’t want to get caught up in the cross fire of a shoot-out.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to die an old maid, brother dear. I just said I wanted to see a shoot-out.” Fern glanced to the ceiling and returned her gaze to their female companion. “Oh imagine, Gabriella, if one of the outlaws saw us in a crowd, took us on his horse, and rode away….” She sighed. “I wonder what an outlaw’s hideout is like?”

  “If an outlaw took you on his horse, it would be to steal your jewels and to ask for a ransom.”

  “Oh, how romantic!”

  He eyed Fern’s lace collar. “There’s nothing romantic about losing your ruby brooch and making me pay a ransom to get you back. If you think it’s so romantic, I’ll let the outlaw keep you.”

  “R.C.!” Gabriella’s tone was scolding, but she smiled.

  “Aren’t you glad you don’t have a big brother to spoil all the fun?” Fern’s wry expression told them she was chastised well enough.

  Gabriella didn’t respond to Fern but cut her gaze to R.C. ever so briefly. How did she feel about him? What was she thinking? Oh, why did he bother to speculate? She couldn’t be feeling anything about him. She had too many other things to vex her—her grandfather, her father, and the real possibility of being alone all too soon. She had no time to think of marriage, even if she’d been so inclined.

  Marriage? Since when had he thought about marriage?

  That evening he had to meet with the landowner and his lawyer to discuss terms of sale. An event that under normal circumstances would have sent his heart racing seemed dull in comparison to what a future with Gabriella might hold.

  Over the next hour, he caught himself only half listening to the others. Flashes of future romance and family life came to mind an astounding number of times. Fern still had a ways to go as far as developing tact, but Gabriella’s lessons seemed to be doing her some good. He wanted marriage for his sister not only because it was her desire, but she would make a sensible mother who would rear sturdy children. A Christian man would find in her a devoted wife.

  But if Fern did manage to make a match, that would leave him alone. He hadn’t thought about the prospect of true solitude until he witnessed Fern and Gabriella exchanging pleasant conversation. R.C. would miss Fern if she were to marry.

  His thoughts turned to Gabriella. He could imagine himself dining with her for every meal. Her flashing gray eyes, her lovely hair that he imagined would be pleasing to the touch, her lilting laugh—all made him want to be with her more. From time to time she would look at him with—was it longing? He found himself hoping so.

  Chapter 6

  The next day, R.C. could see the distress in Gabriella’s face as he escorted her around the city. First they tried a pharmacy, then an insurance office, then a dry-goods store, only to turn up nothing. None of the tradesmen could help them, either.

  They looked to a gorgeous church on Floyd Street. “Perhaps the pastor here knows something. After all, your grandfather is reputed to be quite the preacher.” “Yes, let’s.”

  They entered but found no one in the building. Still, the stop wasn’t wasted since it allowed them time to pray in the empty sanctuary. From the corner of his eye, R.C. observed that Gabriella appeared as an angel as she petitioned the Lord. He hoped their prayers would be answered.

  As the three exited, he searched for words to comfort her. “I’ve been thinking how everyone says the wood-carver they knew moves from place to place. Do you reckon he might have moved on by now?”

  “I’ve thought of that, but I’m praying he hasn’t gone far.”

  A surge of generosity filled him. “I’ll be willing to take you anywhere you think he might be.”

  Her grateful look filled his heart with joy. “Thank you for that. I don’t want to take advantage. And besides, I don’t know how much time I have before …”

  He wanted to embrace her, to comfort her, to let her bury her face in his shoulder. He wanted to take her burdens onto himself. But he couldn’t. He had to content himself with patting her hand. “I don’t believe the Lord will take your father before he can reconcile with your grandfather. I just don’t believe that.”

  “He had so many years, and he let them slip through his fingers.”

  “Time moves much too quickly, doesn’t it?” Fern’s tone displayed pensiveness.

  As they walked, R.C.’s mind went to unwelcome thoughts. He wasn’t getting any younger himself. Marriage was something he’d always planned on but had never taken the time to court a girl toward that end. He’d had a few opportunities but had always put making the next business deal over and above romance. Could it be that the Lord had wanted him to wait for Gabriella?

  “I’m so discouraged. I’ll never find Grandfather. Maybe we should just go home.”

  “Look, we have one more place to try.” He tipped his head toward a saloon on Elm Street. How could he in good conscience take two young women into such a place? “I wish we could have found out something before having to resort to a saloon.” He thought for a moment. “Tell you what. Let me take you two ladies back to the hotel, and I’ll go in alone.”

  “Must I wait another moment?” Gabriella’s impatience showed. “Everyone is sure to know we’re respectable as long as we stay near you.”

  Because he wanted to please Gabriella, the idea tempted him. Then an image of leering, drunken men entered his mind. The idea of their gazes touching upon Gabriella—not to mention his own sister—made him clench his fists. “It’s been a tough road, and I do mean that in the strictest sense of the word, but I want to protect you ladies. I’ll not have a whiff of scandal associated with you by allowing you to go there. I’ll make my errand as quick as possible.”

  Seeing she had lost the argument, Gabriella turned agreeable. “Whatever you say, R.C. I do thank you for asking on my behalf. Not that I think there’s any hope.”

  He prayed, for her sake, that there was.

  Gabriella made an attempt to concentrate on her knitting, but her position on the maple bed didn’t lend itself to craftwork. Even worse, time dragged while she and Fern awaited R.C.’s return. “He’s taking forever. I wish he’d let me go with him.”

  “He was only trying to protect you. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. And I wouldn’t forgive him, either.” Fern returned to her book.

  Gabriella supposed Fern had a point. Based on Aunt Minnie’s letter, Grandfather hadn’t lived in a savory part of town. She wondered if it would be dangerous for her to visit Grandfather. At least R.C. had promised to bring him to the hotel once he was found.

  Finally they heard a knock on the door. Gabriella felt her heart race. This was it! Surely he had news of her grandfather’s whereabouts.

  She rushed to place her knitting in her bag, out of sight, as Fern answered. “Oh, it’s just you.” “Yes, it’s just me.”

  Gabriella hastened to stand beside Fern. Her heartbeat increased. “You—you don’t have Grandfather with you.” Tears threatened.

  “Please don’t be alarmed.” R.C. touched her on the arm with a quick motion. He didn’t come into the room but remained outside in the hall, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb others or to be overheard. “I have some news. I found your grandfather’s last landlady, and she says he left only a couple of weeks ago.”

  Gabriella gasped. “Praise the Lord. He’s alive, then.”

  “I have every reason to believe so.”

  Her concern turned to excitement. “So where is he? Here in town? Please, take me to him quickly.” “I will, but he’s not here in town.” “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped.

  “He’s not so very far from here. They seem to think he might be living near Camp Ford.”

  Fern’s eyes widened. “You mean the old Confederat
e prison camp?”

  “That’s the one.” R.C. looked at the floor, his mouth set in a sad line. “Hard to believe there were once six thousand men there.”

  “Not all were Union prisoners, surely.”

  “No. There were slaves and, of course, the guards.”

  “I remember Father talking about that camp. Not that he liked to speak about the war.” Sadness tugged at Gabriella’s heart. “He was there both as a recruit and, later, as one of the prison guards.” She shuddered. “Why would my grandfather be somewhere like that?”

  “Hard to say, but I’d venture that perhaps that’s one place where people will let him live without bothering him too much.”

  “He’s not actually living in the camp, is he?” Fern asked.

  “I hope not.” The idea of her beloved grandfather living in a place where so much heartache and death had taken place left Gabriella cold.

  “The only way we can find out anything is to see for ourselves. I figure it will take us about two days to get there. We can stay in Tyler since that’s the nearest town, and hopefully we’ll find a place to stay along the way the first night.”

  The inconvenience didn’t bother Gabriella. She only wanted to find her grandfather. “Let’s leave as early as possible. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight anyway.”

  The night did prove restless. Gabriella tossed and turned, and she could hear Fern do the same. The next morning they were up bright and early.

  “I feel terrible that you’re taking us all this way, R.C.” Gabriella tugged at the sleeves of her traveling suit, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible before boarding the carriage. “I know this wasn’t in your plans. Believe me, I’ll compensate you handsomely for your time and trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble. And I’m not worried about compensation.”

  His strong voice and the look in R.C.’s eyes told her he meant it.

  “That’s a new twist.” Fern’s mouth curved as though to illustrate. “You must have my brother’s heart, to make him not consider money.”

 

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