Christmas Spirit (Cutter's Creek Book 12)

by Annie Boone

  “I think they’re mad that the festival counsel talked them into being judges,” Felicity said echoing his thoughts.

  “Something’s definitely gotten under their skin. They look like they’d rather be shoveling out a horse stall.”

  They laughed at the expense of the two women who would decide the fate of her first batch of cider.

  He followed her to the cider table and the old matrons’ eyes latched onto them. Mrs. Taylor raised her brows as Felicity took her basket from him, and pulled out three jars placing them side by side on the table.

  “I’d like to enter my cider in the contest.” She flashed a large smile across her face, but a challenge entered her eyes, almost daring the old biddies to say something negative.

  Mrs. Taylor picked up a jar and unscrewed the lid, taking a sniff. She tilted her head to the side. “I can’t quite place what spices are in this.”

  “That’s because they’re spices from my grandmother’s homeland. I’m sure you don’t know them.” Felicity tipped her pert nose in the air just enough to show confidence.

  Ms. Taylor frowned deeply, screwed back the lid of the cider and set it down. Then she wrote Felicity’s name next to an entry number. It was official. Her cider would be judged this year. Her first batch of cider ever.

  She was so excited, but she was trying to act like she’d been here before. It was turning out to be a very difficult task.

  Seventeen

  Lana was waiting for them on the other side of the church. She waved when they turned from the cider table.

  “I just overheard some of the women talking about the poisoning incident. Do you remember what year it was?”

  Josh shrugged. “I don’t. I don’t think I even really remember the story.”

  “Oh, it’s so funny!” Lana was laughing so hard she almost snorted. “Come on, you remember it, don’t you?”

  When she realized Lana was talking to her, Felicity had to snap out of her woeful thoughts. “Remember the, um, the what? I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What am I supposed to remember?”

  Lana looked at her with almost a snarl. “The time people got poisoned when they tasted the desserts. What year was it?”

  “Oh, gracious. I don’t remember. I only remember hearing about it from my mother. It seems the story grows more sinister with each passing year.”

  “You’re right about that. I overheard that group of women over there talking about it. One of them says that someone died from the poisoning. That’s hilarious! This is the first year that someone has actually died in the story.”

  “I doubt anybody actually got that sick. But If anybody really died, Lana, it’s not nice to say it’s hilarious,” injected Josh. “Maybe we better ask Reverend Latsch what happened. I’m sure he knows.”

  Lana laughed even harder. “I would ask him if I really cared to hear the truth. The embellishments are much more entertaining, I’m sure. Maybe they’ll add Granny Cutter into the next round of tall tales. I’m sure adding her would give the whole thing an amusing new dimension.”

  “As the instigator of other calamities, I imagine stories about that old woman are probably true,” added Josh.

  The three of them laughed out loud, Josh shaking his head. Then he took Felicity’s hand and they wandered out of the church into a winter wonderland as flakes began to fall thicker and faster. Lana was left to find another companion to amuse herself.

  Felicity turned to him, with her black eyes filled with warmth, and love. “What’s the matter? You look so gloomy. Worried.”

  He took a deep breath and looked away. What could he tell her? Not right now. He just wanted to get through the day. To think about his problems another day. Finding a way to keep all he held dear from being ripped from him was stressful, and he wanted to not think about it today.

  He felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked down at the woman he had grown to love, a woman he didn’t want to lose. The thought of the chance he was going to lose her sent sharp stabs through him.

  “Felicity, after all this is over, we need to talk.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, making his pain even more of a burden. This just wasn’t fair. Once he found the girl he wanted he was going to lose her. Or he’d have to let her go. He could see that people kept glancing at them, but he didn’t care. He reached to her cheek and caressed it with the back of his hand. “Just trust me. For now.”

  She nodded. “It’s just—”

  “Felicity!”

  Felicity’s head whipped around, as Lana came running up to them with a rich rose color to her cheeks, and a brightness to her eyes. What had gotten into her?

  Eighteen

  Felicity turned to face Lana, as Josh’s hand fell back to his side. Lana grabbed Felicity’s mitten-clad hands and almost bounced in front of her like a schoolgirl. “Have you heard the news?”

  “What news?”

  Lana took a step closer to her, leaning almost into her face. “Some New York bigwig is here. Says he’s looking for recipes for a cookbook or something. Isn’t it exciting that he came all the way to little old Cutter’s Creek?”

  What if he chose her cider recipe? She would absolutely flip if he did. Wouldn't that show Josh something? And maybe he’d even be proud of her. If her grandmother’s recipe became famous, she’d be so happy to have shared it in the festival.

  “Oh, there he is.” Lana pointed to the front of the church building.

  Felicity turned to see a man in a long black coat with a black top hat pushed firmly on his head. He had a large pot belly and a gray beard that reached just below his chin. Next to him stood a much younger man who seemed to be taking his lead from the older man.

  This younger man had black hair mostly covered by a hat which matched the long black coat he wore. The men’s gaze seemed to be focused on the children running around the church yard, throwing snowballs everywhere. The mayor was with them and looked to be talking to them.

  Just as Felicity was about to turn away, a snowball flew through the air and landed right at the feet of the older man, making the young man chuckle. Mayor Pershing bounded down the stairs toward the children and they scattered. Felicity couldn’t help but laugh at the look on the mayor’s face.

  “He’s quite handsome,” Lana said, a dreamy look in her eyes.

  “Who? The man from New York?” Felicity couldn’t believe she was talking about the man with the pot belly, but she wasn’t sure.

  “No, silly. The younger one. I think he’s quite handsome, actually.”

  Felicity looked at the younger man again. He looked to be Lana’s type. Maybe she’d finally found her rich man. That man could marry her and she’d never have to learn to take care of herself. Not that she didn’t love her friend, but being responsible and capable wasn’t one of Lana’s ambitions.

  Felicity turned back to Josh and smiled. “I’ll be just a minute. I need to talk to Lana.”

  A fog filled Josh’s eyes again. He looked down at the snow, nodding.

  “I’ll be right—”

  “Felicity, we can talk about dresses later. I don’t think my brother wants to give you up,” Lana said. “Besides Ma needs me.”

  Lana spun around and headed toward the little red church building. She slowed as she got closer. Felicity wasn’t close enough to see for sure, but it looked like Lana was giving the young man from New York a good once over when she went by him. If she was right, the man seemed to like it.

  A huff escaped her as she brought her mind back to the Garrett family. Lana didn’t want to talk. Something was really wrong. She was worried that whatever the situation was, it might change her life, too.

  Josh stepped to her side and took her hand. “I’d love to have some of your cider.”

  Felicity looked at the basket looped over his arm. She nodded and they walked off to a large Douglas fir. Snow covered several of the needles but a few poked through adding a nice wintery green touch.

  He set the basket down, and pulled out the one
remaining jar and held it in front of him. He looked at it with reverence. “It’s beautiful. Such a rich purple color.”

  She smiled shyly as she watched him continue to admire the jar of sugar plum cider.

  “Ma said a lot of ladies mix other berries with theirs, but Grandma always kept hers just sugar plum berries.”

  Felicity bit her bottom lip while Josh took off the lid. He carefully brought it to his nose and inhaled the fruity aroma. Pleasure filled his eyes. “This smells quite delicious.”

  Felicity held her breath as he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as a smile crossed his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had cider this good before. It’s good, Felicity. Really good.”

  “You like it.” Energy shot through her.

  He glanced back down into her eyes, reaching with his free hand to her cheek. “I love it. And I can’t imagine how you won’t win.”

  Nineteen

  A war seemed to be raging in him as he drove the wagon into his front yard. He leaned forward with his head in his hands.

  He’d spent the whole day with Felicity. They had sampled delicious cookies and participated in the various games that added entertainment to the Christmas festival.

  Warmth filled him as he thought of the light that filled Felicity’s eyes when he told her he loved her cider. And he had. There were so many rich flavors all combined into one delicious drink. She had told him her secret ingredient was Sichuan peppercorns. He couldn’t imagine how peppercorns worked in a sweet drink, but the flavor was perfect.

  The front door of his home opened, and his father stepped out. His shoulders were stooped, but he had a bounce in his step. His father walked to the wagon, and Josh jumped down and helped him in.

  Once they were both seated, with the wool blanket over their laps and another wrapped around his father, he flicked the reins, sending the horse off on a slow trot. Josh found himself, once again, mulling over his next move.

  Was it possible that Felicity might wait for him? Wait to see if he could find some way to support the family? But how could he even ask her to do that? Of course, she might agree to wait, but didn’t she deserve better than that?

  “You need to tell her.” His father’s statement broke into his thoughts.

  But he didn’t want to tell her. At least not tonight. Not when he had previously thought he might ask for her hand after the dance tonight.

  “What should I tell her?”

  “The truth. She’ll know soon enough, anyway. We’re not the only ranch losing our herd. I imagine everyone out at the festival has fake smiles plastered on their faces. We’ll all try to have a good time and not let the uncertainties of the future ruin Christmas.”

  “You know there’s the railroad.” His father looked over at him, but Josh couldn’t look back at him. “They always need good men. Or the ranchers down toward California usually need foremen. I’ll just bet Felicity would move with you.”

  Just the thought of leaving Cutter’s Creek made him feel ill. He had lived here his whole life. Loved waking up in the morning and staring at the mountains that framed the valley. He wanted to race the wind over the thick grasslands holding tight to his wife.

  But truth be told, he’d rather be able to hold Felicity each night as he drifted off to sleep than all that. “I have a lot to think about, I guess.”

  “No, you have a lot to talk about. You need to talk with her. A man who doesn’t share his burden with his wife is a man with too many burdens. And this affects her, too. She needs to have a say.”

  Josh let his father’s words circulate through his mind. Yes, he did need to speak with Felicity. They needed to discuss the future. Tonight, after the contest, he would have to do just that and he dreaded it like a toothache.

  Twenty

  Felicity took a seat on one of the many benches set up around the cider tasting table, clutching Lana’s hand. There were ten ciders that been entered this year, and only hers had the rich purple color, letting her know that the other ladies must have used other fruits like her ma said they often did.

  Mr. Garrett took a seat between Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Pershing. Ten fresh mugs were placed in front of each judge along with a piece of paper and a pencil.

  She glanced around at the church, noting the festive Christmas look. Pine branches had been shaped into beautiful wreaths with red berries threaded through and hung on the walls. Each had a big red bow on the bottom.

  Bowls of red berries and pine cones were laid on the tables at the back of the room. The black stove in the back had warmed the room just right, making her feel all cozy.

  “My dear, I think you might just win,” said a deep voice just behind her.

  She turned her head just a little and from the corner of her eye, she spotted Horace Willet leaning down to his wife’s ear. He was whispering just a little too loud. A deep blush colored the woman’s pale cheeks. “Now don’t you go getting a girl’s hope up. I never win and you know it.”

  The old man raised his dark gray bushy brows as a smile crossed his face. “My dear, I think your drink has a special touch this year.”

  What was that old fool talking about? Must be quite a special touch. She’d had Sadie Willet’s cider before and it always tasted like sweet water. There was no fruit taste to it at all. But everyone knew, Mr. Willet was a drunk who spent more time at the saloon than at church – or anywhere else, for that matter. No telling what sort of condition he was in when he drank the brew his wife thought was so perfect.

  The mayor stepped up to the front of the table. “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I please have your attention?”

  The small crowd grew quiet as the mayor cleared his throat to continue. “This year’s cider competition promises to be our most exciting one ever. I’m pleased to see all these jars of wonderful concoctions!” He turned and indicated the table where the jars waited to be tasted.

  “Before the tasting begins, allow me to introduce our judges to you. First, Mrs. Gwendolyn Taylor is a past winner. She has won twice in past years—”

  “Excuse me, Mayor,” Mrs. Taylor interrupted. “I’ve actually won three times, not only two. I’ve also won the dessert contest a time or two, as well.” Her smile was sweet, but it was clear she was not happy that the mayor misrepresented her credentials.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Pardon me for the oversight. Mrs. Taylor has won the cider competition thrice. We are most happy to have her vast experience to help us judge our cider contest today.”

  The mayor smiled tightly and continued. “Next, we have Mr. Sonny Garrett. Mr. Garrett has never entered our cider contest – at least not to my knowledge.”

  The crowd laughed politely and Josh’s father nodded vigorously. “You’ve got your facts straight on that, Mr. Mayor.”

  “Well, good. Mr. Garrett is qualified to judge the contest today because he enjoys a good sugar plum berry cider. I’m sure his expertise as a consumer will keep things in balance.

  “And last, but not least, is Mrs. Mildred Pershing. If any of you aren’t aware, this woman is my beloved wife!”

  Again, polite laughter came from the crowd. Mrs. Pershing glowed with the attention and looked victoriously over at Gwendolyn Taylor. Clearly, there was competition inside the judging corps, too.

  “My wife is a four-time winner of the cider contest.” He leaned into the crowd as if he was about to tell a secret. He put his hand up to his mouth as if he was going to whisper in someone’s ear, but his voice boomed loudly. “You notice I didn’t get the number of wins wrong this time. I so hate sleeping on the porch when it’s this cold outside.”

  He laughed out loud and the rest of the crowd guffawed along with him. Except for Mrs. Pershing and Mrs. Taylor. Neither was pleased with their introduction at this point.

  “I do have to say that I’m happy to enjoy her expertise as we always enjoy a good glass of cider on a chilly winter evening.”

  Mildred Pershing took one more look at Gw
endolyn Taylor and turned back to smile at the crowd when she saw that the woman wasn’t looking at her. She looked just a touch disappointed that she couldn’t get in one more blow of superiority.

  “And now, let’s get on with the tasting!”

  The crowd clapped and a low buzz hovered in the room as people talked and got ready to see the judging begin.

  Felicity watched as the judges began sampling the drinks, starting with the first jar in the line of ten. A chuckle escaped her when Mr. Garrett’s face puckered at the taste of the first cider. He then quickly moved on to the next one. The tasting continued as the judges conferred as they tasted.

  Mary Pershing was assisting in the process by pouring the cider in order. She picked up Felicity’s cider and poured it into each of the judges’ mugs. Felicity gripped Lana’s hand tighter and held her breath, waiting to see if she could read the judges’ faces.

  Mrs. Tayler puckered her mouth, making Felicity’s lips tremble but then she took another sip. Mrs. Pershing’s eyes widened, as she looked down at her mug, a slight smile on her face. They both must have liked it. She turned to focus on Mr. Garrett, who took a small sip. He lowered the mug and nodded as a smile crossed his face.

  Josh bent towards her, his warm breath, brushing across her ear. “I think it’s a success.”

  She looked at him with a big smile. “I hope so.”

  Energy poured through her, making her want to giggle. Could she actually win this? Winning the much sought after first place ribbon with her grandmother’s recipe would be a terrific Christmas memory. How she wished her grandmother was with her for this!

  The mayor’s daughter began filling the mugs with cider from the last jar. Mr. Garrett brought his mug to his nose and then sniffed, lowering the mug. He looked around the room, as if trying to figure out just whose it was. He shook his head, and took another small sip, raising his brows before he set the mug down.