Tracie Peterson, Tracey V. Bateman, Pamela Griffin, JoAnn A. Grote

by Prairie Christmas Collection

  Her part was in making the crèche where they would sit. Funny, she and Ward seemed to complement each other well as they worked together.

  As she worked, she tried to ignore the ever-rising wail of the wind. Placing cut pieces of hay among the crèche, her petitions to the Lord grew more fervent. What would she do if something happened to Ward? To have finally found love and then to have it snatched away so suddenly was incomprehensible. Surely God could not mean for such a thing to happen. She needed time to make Ward love her in return.

  Setting Mary next to Joseph, she allowed her thoughts to wander. Did Joseph love Mary, or had Mary had to contend with a marriage such as Rose’s? Joseph was a good man, that was evidenced by the fact that he wanted to put Mary away quietly instead of making her face her shame. But did he love her?

  Restlessly, she got up from the table and opened the door to look out. The portal was flung back against the interior cabin wall with the force of the wind. It took everything Rose could muster to be able to close it again. She leaned back against it, her breathing ragged.

  What would happen to the animals? They were safe in the barn, but Ward had forbidden her to go to them if there were a storm. Not that she was crazy enough to do so anyway.

  She wandered restlessly around the cabin, not able to settle to doing anything. Even little Alicia’s doll that she had started lay forgotten on the bed.

  When darkness came, Ward still had not returned. It seemed the hands of the clock on the mantle ticked slowly by, dragging each hour to its fullest.

  Supper sat untouched on the table. It had been something to occupy her time, and at least she had the hope that Ward would be home soon and hungry. But he hadn’t come.

  Finally, Rose could take the strain no longer and flinging herself to her knees beside the bed she began to pray loudly, trying to block out the sound of the wind. Before long, her voice turned hoarse with the exertion and trying to suppress her tears. Giving in to the inevitable, she allowed the tears to come. Great, wracking sobs tore at her body.

  Suddenly, the door flung open and Rose sat staring at what seemed like a huge, hulking polar bear.

  Rose came quickly to her feet and was across the room, flinging herself into her husband’s arms.

  Chapter 6

  Rose glanced periodically at her husband thawing in front of the fire as she walked over to get him dry clothes and a blanket. Steam rose from his wet clothes as he tried to huddle closer for warmth, a hot cup of tea clutched in his shaking hands. She had been so glad to see him, so relieved that he was alive, that she had thrown herself into his arms.

  She worried about that now. Had she given away her feelings with that action? She certainly hoped not, because although she may have discovered her own love for him, he had shown nothing that would give her hope that he felt the same. Hadn’t he told her that his heart was dead?

  “How did you ever manage to get home in this blizzard?”

  He looked at her briefly, his teeth still chattering as he took off his wet outer clothes. “I just decided to let the horses have their head. Animals have a pretty keen sense of direction, even in a storm. I was hoping they would find their way home, and they did.”

  Bless Old Blue and Big Ben. She would give them an extra portion of oats to show her appreciation.

  Rose handed Ward his nightclothes. “Put these on and get into bed,” she scolded. “We’ll be doing good if you don’t catch pneumonia.”

  She turned her back as he fumbled out of his heavy, wet clothes and into his dry night things.

  “Where’s the blankets for my pallet?”

  Not looking at him, Rose began laying his wet clothes over the chair to dry. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. I’ll not have you catching a chill.”

  The room grew so silent, she could hear the logs pop in the fireplace. When she finally turned his way, he was staring at her somberly. “Just what are you saying, Rose? ‘Cause I’ll have you know that I won’t allow you to sleep on the floor.”

  She continued to flit about the cabin, straightening things here, fixing things there. Her face was the color of a ripe apple when she told him, “I figured as much. I’m willing to share the bed.”

  Although she couldn’t see him, Rose could feel his eyes upon her back. His stillness reminded her of a cougar she had seen once, just before it had lunged at his prey.

  Ward hesitated. Fatigue and confusion crossed his face. Without saying anything, he finally climbed into the bed. “Are you coming?”

  Shaking her head, Rose picked up Alicia’s doll. “No, not yet. I think I’ll work on this for a while.”

  She wasn’t fooling him and she knew it, but there was no way she could crawl into that bed next to him right now. The way she was feeling …

  Sighing, Ward cuddled down under the covers. He appreciated Rose’s concern, but this was a volatile situation. Could they ever go back to the way things had been after sleeping together? Even if nothing happened, it was still sure to change things. Still, things couldn’t continue the way they had been, either. He thought he could sense a subtle change in Rose’s attitude toward him, but his mind was too foggy with fatigue that he couldn’t even begin to figure it out now.

  There were many times in the last couple of days that he had longed to be in this bed, but he hadn’t imagined it being this way. In his dreams he had imagined himself telling Rose of his love for her and her throwing her arms around him and telling him she felt the same way.

  Well, she had certainly thrown her arms around him, but dealing with her sobs was not part of his fantasy. Nor was having her order him to bed as though he were a child. If he were a betting man, he’d wager she’d sit up all night in that chair by the fire just so she wouldn’t have to share his bed.

  He considered going to her now and telling her how he felt, but his eyes were already becoming heavy, his body succumbing to its ordeal. Besides, she had offered to share the bed with him, nothing more.

  Before long, Rose could hear Ward’s soft snores. The poor man was exhausted. The doll lay forgotten on her lap as she watched him sleep.

  Getting up, she crossed to his side and stood observing him, her eyes tender with the love she felt. Reaching out, she pushed the dark hair from his forehead, bending and placing a kiss there.

  He was definitely out. Nothing, including an earthquake, would wake him now. Feeling safe, she changed into her own nightclothes and blowing out the lamp, crawled into bed next to him.

  For a long time she lay tense, listening to him breathe. Finally, she was able to relax and turning, she curled herself against his side, determined to share with him her body heat. The fear of pneumonia was never far from her mind.

  Eventually, with an exhausted sigh, she too succumbed to sleep.

  A thumping on the door brought them both wide awake. Ward tried to scramble across Rose just as she was trying to get from the bed. They wound up in a tangle of arms and legs. Ward propped himself up with his arms and gazed down into Rose’s still sleep-laden eyes. A smile tugged at his lips and before they knew it, both were filled with paroxysms of mirth.

  He quickly kissed her lips before climbing from the bed and opening the door a crack.

  “Morning, Ward.” Adam’s voice sounded loud and clear in the bright morning sunlight slitting through the opened door. “Sorry I’m late, but there are some pretty big drifts out here.”

  Surprised, Ward hastened to assure him. “I’ll be right with you.”

  Rose hustled out of bed once the door was closed. “You can’t go out today! You need to rest. Stay in bed.”

  Sitting on the chair pulling on his boots, he threw her a wicked grin. “What are you suggesting, Mrs. Taylor?”

  Her face colored hotly and she began stammering in her confusion. “I … I didn’t mean—”

  Taking pity on her, he stood up and crossed to her side. “I was only teasing. I’ll be back later. This should be our last load of logs and then we can start on the bedrooms.”


  The look he gave her was searching in its intensity, but Rose was too distraught to notice. Was he that anxious to have the bedrooms done that he would be willing to risk his health? Surely Adam would understand if he knew the situation. She lifted a hand to her temple, rubbing against a fast-approaching headache.

  Bundling into his coat, Ward strode to the door. “See you later. I’ll take care of the animals before I leave.”

  The door closed behind him.

  For the next several hours Rose gave herself a good talking to. As she embroidered tiny even stitches to make the doll’s mouth, she lectured herself on being a fool. When she began sewing scraps together to make a small quilt for the cradle, she admonished herself to be more careful to hide her feelings in the future.

  It was only as she was sewing together some old pieces of leather for a musket case for Andrew that she stopped to think about that brief kiss this morning. She felt warmth creeping into her cheeks as she wondered what would have happened if Adam had not come this morning and they would have awakened on their own.

  Was it possible that Ward might harbor some slight feeling for her? As impossible as it seemed, that little bud of hope refused to die. Such thoughts had her feeling as prickly as her pincushion by the time Ward was due home.

  When Ward came in that evening, he carried a small tree he had brought from the river. “How’s this for a Christmas tree?”

  Rose’s eyes lit up, and forgotten were those moments from this morning that had caused her such worry all day long. “Oh, Ward. What a great idea!”

  He grinned back at her, tired lines radiating from his eyes. “It’s the reason I insisted on going today. I wasn’t sure when I’d get another chance.”

  Rose frowned as she looked about the room. Although the room was large enough, there really was very little furniture and the tree was so small it would need to be situated on a table. If they used the table in the kitchen area, they would have no place to eat.

  “I was thinking,” Ward suggested, “that maybe I could bring in that table of yours from the barn. Since it’s larger than this one, we could move this one to the corner for the tree and then use yours for eating. It will give us more eating room when the Comptons come for Christmas.”

  Gripping her hands together, Rose placed the nails from her two index fingers against her teeth. Squinting her eyes, she tried to “see” how things would look in her mind’s eye. “That’ll work.”

  They shifted the table to the corner and Rose found a bowl for the tree. Laying the tree on the floor, Ward took the bowl and headed for the door. “I’ll get some dirt from the barn. Outside’s too frozen. It would take me all day just to chip out enough dirt to fill this bowl.”

  When he came back, Rose helped him move the table and fix the small tree. They found themselves giggling like children when the determined thing tipped first one way and then another.

  Finally, Ward leaned back sighing. “We need something to wrap around the base for support.”

  They both searched the cabin with their eyes. When Ward lifted an eyebrow at Rose, she just shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?”

  “I have some burlap in the barn. We could use that.”

  Rose wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so. The whole cabin would soon smell like the barn.” She thought a minute and then her eyes lit up. “I know. Look in my trunk there by the bed. There’s an old white blanket. We could use that, then it would look like snow.”

  Ward rummaged through the chest while Rose held the tree steady. It was a moment before Rose realized just how quiet the room had become. Turning to see where the problem lay, she found Ward holding her memory quilt across his lap. His eyes went to hers.

  “This is beautiful. Why don’t you use it?”

  The color that had drained from her face now came rushing back. She opened her mouth to explain, but no words would come.

  Ward crossed the room to her side, the white blanket clutched in his hands. He handed it to her without comment. Together they wrapped it securely around the base of the little tree.

  “That should hold it,” Ward told her.

  She agreed, and though it was nothing like the pine trees back home, still it would do. She stepped back to get the full effect, smiling her pleasure. Ward was such a thoughtful man. Why had she never seen that before?

  “It looks great. I’ll decorate it tomorrow.”

  Smiling, Ward told her, “I’ll help.”

  Rose turned to him in surprise. “That’s right, you’re finished chopping trees. Aren’t you and Adam going to start building tomorrow?”

  The look he settled on her was disturbing in its intensity. “I’m in no hurry,” he told her quietly.

  Unsure what to make of his attitude, Rose decided to leave him to his own thoughts and go fix supper. Ward’s fingers closed softly but inexorably around her wrist when she turned away. “Tell me about the quilt,” he commanded softly. “It upset you to see it. Why?”

  Rose’s eyes met his and she found herself unable to look away. She began to tell him of the quilt without quite realizing what she was saying. His nearness was doing funny things to her insides.

  When he suddenly released her, she felt curiously bereft. He returned to the chest and pulled the quilt from it. Laying it across the bed, he motioned for Rose to come to him. Reluctantly, she moved to his side.

  Ward motioned to the spread. “Tell me about the material.”

  Uncertain as to his reasons for wanting to know, Rose still found herself telling him little stories about the various pieces. He laughed with her over her tales, and grew somber when she told him of the piece that was from the last dress her mother wore before she died.

  He gently folded the covering and replaced it in its position in the chest. When he looked her way, his face was solemn. “Perhaps you will use it one day, perhaps not, but it’s great that you have so many memories. What a unique way of making sure that those memories are around for a long time.”

  Ward was silent throughout supper, his thoughts far away. Rose assumed that in sharing her own memories, she had resurrected his own recollections of Elise. She picked at her own meal, pushing the stew around on her plate.

  After washing the dishes, Rose decided to search through her things and see what she could use to decorate the tree. She hadn’t much, but she had a lot of ingenuity.

  Ward settled himself beside the fire to put the finishing touches to Andrew’s gun. Although it wouldn’t actually shoot, Rose knew the boy would be thrilled with it.

  Taking out some scraps of material, Rose held them against the tree. Their bright colors added a bit of cheer to the drab interior. Yes, she would tie various colors of bows to the branches. That would be a start.

  “Ward?”

  “Hmm?”

  Rose watched as he expertly smoothed the gun barrel with a piece of sandpaper. “We don’t have a gift for Alice and Adam.”

  He looked up at her then. “I’m sure they won’t expect one.” He went back to sanding. “If I’d thought about it, I would have picked up something in Yankton.”

  “Why did you go to Yankton?”

  Without looking up he answered her. “I needed some supplies.”

  Rose had no idea what he could have possibly needed, but then she knew very little about the running of his farm. Shrugging, she sat down to cut some of her scraps into small enough strips to use as bows.

  Although Ward said nothing, Rose could see the tired droop of his shoulders. He had battled a blizzard half the night and then rose at first light to go finish chopping logs for their cabin. It was obviously catching up with him, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to go to bed.

  Rose put her things away and began to prepare herself for bed. After brushing her hair its required one hundred strokes, she crawled beneath the covers. Ward still sat next to the fire working on the gun.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Rose asked him.

  She could see him swallow hard before shakin
g his head. “Not just yet. I’m almost finished here.”

  Rose lifted herself on one elbow. “Andrew will love that. And Alicia will love her cradle. You do beautiful work, Ward.”

  “Thanks.”

  The one clipped syllable brought a frown to Rose’s face. Ward seemed almost like a stranger tonight. Cold. Aloof. Like he had been before their marriage. Sliding back under the covers, Rose turned her back on him, feeling unreasonably hurt.

  It was some time later before Ward banked the fire and prepared himself for bed. Rose pretended to be asleep, waiting to see if he would take up his pallet on the floor again. She thought she would die if he did, thinking that he would be rejecting what she had so shyly offered.

  Ward blew out the lantern and Rose held her breath until suddenly she felt the bed dip as Ward climbed in beside her. He lay staring up at the ceiling for a long time before finally he rolled toward Rose’s back.

  Wrapping one strong arm around her waist, Ward pulled her back against his chest. He made no move to do anything else and Rose sighed with relief when after several moments she heard his even breathing. Feeling safe for the night, she allowed herself to relax back against his body and even in his sleep, he cuddled her close.

  Goodness only knew how they were going to handle this situation in the morning.

  Chapter 7

  The morning light didn’t penetrate the dingy interior of the cabin, so it was late when Rose opened her eyes. Sometime in the night she had curled herself into Ward’s arms and now felt her face flame with color. She made a move to get up, only to find herself pulled back and Ward’s handsome face grinning down into her own. “Where you going?”

  “I … I have to fix breakfast.”

  He shook his head slowly and a lone curl dropped tantalizingly down across his forehead. “Not yet. There’s something we need to discuss.”