After the story was over, with Jack accompanying them on his mouth harp, they sang some favorite carols, bringing merriment to the cabin. Cole sang the loudest, and Cynthia suppressed a giggle. No doubt, the songs held precious memories for him, too. Even Walter joined in, but Cynthia wondered if it was because he wanted to outdo Cole. Forgive me, Lord. I shouldn’t think such thoughts. I’m glad if Walter’s feeling the Christmas spirit.
As they sang “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” Cynthia felt a sense of peace. Tonight this quaint little cabin was full of good cheer, something each of them needed.
They’d just started the second stanza of “Joy to the World” when the cabin door flew open. A gray-haired man with a matching beard, wearing a buffalo robe and carrying a pack over his shoulder, stepped into the cabin, bringing snowflakes and cold air with him. Blinking his eyes several times, he stared at them with a look of astonishment.
Before any of the adults could utter a word, Amelia pointed to the man and exclaimed, “Santa Claus!”
Chapter 10
Cynthia didn’t know what had surprised her most: seeing the big, bearded man who’d entered the cabin unannounced or hearing Amelia speak. Probably the latter, she decided, for it wasn’t just astonishing; it was downright miraculous—especially on this very special night.
“Oh, Amelia, my sweet girl,” Jack cried, scooping his daughter into his arms. “It’s so good to hear you talking again.”
“Santa Claus came to see us, Papa,” she said, smiling widely as she stared at the stranger who’d entered the cabin.
Was Amelia suddenly released from the emotional trap that had held her captive all this time? Cynthia wondered.
Eyes sparkling brightly, showing life from within, Jack’s daughter giggled, as any child would, seeing the whiskered Santa. The little girl couldn’t take her eyes off the man, and neither could Alan.
“I ain’t Santa Claus, and I’d like to know what you all are doin’ in my cabin,” the man said gruffly, his gaze traveling from person to person. Then he quickly shut the door.
“We’re a small wagon train heading to California,” Cole spoke up. “When the weather turned bad and we couldn’t go any farther, we took refuge here, thinking the place was abandoned.”
“Well, it ain’t. My name’s Abe Jones, and this here cabin you’ve taken over is mine.” The man’s tone softened as he looked at Amelia and Alan staring up at him with wide-eyed expressions. “Sorry to disappoint ya ’bout Santa Claus.” He gave his beard a quick pull. “Guess I do kinda look like him.”
“If this is your cabin, then why was there no sign of life when we got here several weeks ago, and where have you been all this time?” Walter questioned.
“I was visiting my wife’s tribe, like I’ve done every year since Two Moons died ten years ago,” Abe explained.
Walter’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “You were married to an Indian?”
Abe gave a nod. “You got somethin’ to say about that?” His steely blue eyes narrowed as he glared at Walter, challenging him to say more.
Oh please, Walter, don’t make any trouble, Cynthia thought. If you offend this man further, he’s likely to throw us out in the cold.
“I’m sure Mr. Prentice didn’t mean anything by his question,” Cole was quick to say. “We’re sorry for intruding, but we needed shelter. Guess we’re just surprised to learn that someone owns this cabin.”
“Yep,” Abe said, tossing his pack on the floor and going to stand in front of the fireplace. “Built it with my own two hands after Two Moons and I were married.” He paused and rubbed his hands briskly together. “As I said before, I’ve been holed up with Two Moon’s Shoshone kin, so that’s why the cabin looked empty.”
“If you were living with your wife’s family, then why’d you come back here in the dead of winter?” This question came from Jack, who had taken a seat at the table and lifted Amelia onto his lap.
“Always come back on Christmas Eve,” Abe replied, glancing into the fireplace. “That’s when Two Moons died givin’ birth to our baby, so I come to the place where I last saw her purty face. Helps me remember how things were before she died.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Cynthia said sincerely.
Abe looked at her and gave a quick nod. All was quiet while Abe stoked the fire, watching as sparks went up the chimney.
“What about the baby?” Cynthia’s mother asked, breaking the silence. “Did he or she survive?”
Abe shook his head. “It grieves me to say it, but both mother and son died on that Christmas Eve night.”
“I, too, am sorry for your loss,” Virginia said with feeling.
Abe nodded to the womenfolk. “It’s bittersweet, but the good times Two Moons and I had together is what I hold on to.”
“Whatcha got in there, Mister?” Alan asked, pointing to the pack Abe had tossed on the floor.
Without saying a word, Abe picked up the pack, opened it, and pulled out a small object with a point on one end. “How’d ya like to have this?” He handed it to Alan.
“What is it?” Alan asked, turning the item over in his hand.
“It’s an arrowhead,” Abe replied. “The Injuns make ’em to put on their spears for hunting, spear fishing, and as a weapon to protect themselves.”
Cynthia smiled as she watched Alan rub the arrowhead as though it were a piece of precious gold.
“Wow! Thanks!” Alan quickly put the carved stone in his pocket.
Abe reached into his pack and withdrew a string of colored beads. “Here’s a purty necklace for ya,” he said, slipping the beads over Amelia’s head.
Amelia’s eyes glistened as she looked up at Abe. “Thank you, Santa Claus.”
Abe didn’t argue with her this time—just smiled and patted her head. “I hafta say, the place hasn’t felt this homey since my wife died,” he said, gazing around the decorated room. “It needed a woman’s touch.” Abe grew quiet, looking toward the fire as though lost in memories from long ago. He looked back at them and said, “Guess I should be thankin’ you folks for makin’ this Christmas a little less lonely for me.”
Cynthia felt that Abe showing up when he did was a miracle of sorts. Seeing him and believing he was Santa Claus was just what Amelia needed to get her speaking again. And the fact that Abe carried in his pack two items any child would be intrigued with made Cynthia think God must have planned it all to give Jack’s children a special Christmas Eve. She just hoped Abe would allow them to continue staying in his cabin, for they’d never survive the harsh winter in their wagons.
Chapter 11
Dear Diary,
Today, as we celebrate Christmas, everyone is relieved that Abe has allowed us to stay here in his cabin. Not only did he give Alan and Amelia those items from his wife’s tribe, but he brought food with him—enough to get us by until he or one of the other men is able to get fresh meat again.
Abe seemed upset that we were here at first, but his attitude softened and he’s agreed to let us stay until we’re able to travel again. How I thank God for that. I think all of us being here, especially over Christmas, has helped Abe, too, and that warms my heart.
This morning Virginia and I gave the children the gifts we had for them. Alan and Amelia were excited and were also pleased with their father’s gifts. Jack said the best Christmas present he could have received was to have his daughter laughing and talking again. Being trapped in the mountains has been frightening, but finding this cabin and experiencing Abe’s generosity are truly answers to prayer. I’m confident that once the weather improves God will take us safely to California.
The only part I am dreading is becoming Walter’s wife. How can I live the rest of my life with a man I don’t love? If only there was a way Mama and I could make it on our own without relying on Walter to provide for our needs. I know I should be grateful and quit wishing for the impossible, but my selfish desires seem to keep creeping in. I pray every night that God will help me accept my plight an
d be a good wife.
I must close and help Mama and Virginia prepare our Christmas dinner. Thanks to Abe’s hunting skills, a wild turkey is roasting in the fireplace. My mouth is already watering as the delicious aroma wafts through the cabin. Virginia used the last of her flour to bake two pies with some dried huckleberries Abe brought back to the cabin, so we’re in for a special treat.
“Looks like you’re workin’ up a pretty good sweat,” Jack said as Cole chopped some firewood from the big tree that fell. “Don’t cha think we have enough already?”
“We can always use more.” Cole paused a moment to wipe his wet forehead and started chopping again, as vigorously as before. “Who knows what the weather will bring in the next few days? It’s best to get the rest of this tree cut and stacked close to the cabin where we can get our firewood easily.”
“That makes sense, but you’re not upset about anything are you?” Jack asked.
“What makes ya think I’m upset?”
“You’ve been sorta moody this morning, and you’re attacking that wood like there’s no tomorrow.”
Cole set the ax aside and drew in a couple of deep breaths. He glanced toward the cabin before he answered. “To tell ya the truth, I am kinda upset.”
“About what?”
“Cynthia.”
Jack quirked an eyebrow. “Did she say or do something you didn’t like?”
Cole shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just …” He stopped talking and motioned toward Walter, who had come outside and was heading toward his wagon. “That guy really bothers me, and I don’t understand what she sees in him.”
“I don’t either, but then it’s not my place to be sayin’ anything about who Cynthia marries.”
Cole gritted his teeth. “She’s too sweet for an old sourpuss like Walter, not to mention that she’s a lot younger than him. I think he’s using her, but I’m not sure for what.”
“That may be true, but it’s her decision, and I don’t think she’d have agreed to marry him if she didn’t want to.”
“You’re probably right. I just wish …” Cole’s voice trailed off. He’d most likely said more than he should.
Jack moved closer to Cole. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you? Don’t deny it either. I can see it written all over your face.”
Cole shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t matter what I feel one way or the other. She’s gonna marry Walter, and that’s all there is to it.”
Cynthia was about to help Virginia set the table when Walter reentered the cabin. He was really getting on her nerves, especially today, watching him sit around most of the morning while the rest of them hustled about making preparations for a nice Christmas Day. She’d been glad when he’d finally gone outside, but frowned seeing him back inside already.
Walter paused near the door, watching Cynthia a few minutes. Then he stepped up to her and said, “I need to speak to you about something. Will you take a walk with me outside?”
“Now?” she asked. This makes no sense. Walter was just outside. Why didn’t he ask me to go out with him then? “Can’t it wait until after we eat? I’m busy right now, helping to get things ready.”
“I won’t take but a few minutes,” he said. “I need to talk to you alone.”
“It’s all right,” Cynthia’s mother interjected, shooing Cynthia away after glancing briefly at Walter. “I’ll finish setting the table for you.”
Cynthia couldn’t imagine what was so important that it couldn’t wait until they’d eaten their Christmas dinner, but wanting to avoid an argument, she slipped her bonnet on her head and wrapped a heavy woolen shawl around her shoulders then followed Walter out the door.
I hope this doesn’t take too long, she thought. She didn’t want anything to spoil the day—something she knew Walter was capable of doing in just a matter of seconds.
Once outside, he took her arm and they walked toward his wagon. Pausing near the back of the wagon, he cleared his throat and said, “Your mother and I will be getting married when we reach California.”
“What was that?” Cynthia asked, thinking she must have misunderstood.
“I am sure this must come as a shock to you, but Mable has agreed to become my wife.”
Cynthia’s mouth dropped open.
“Over the past few weeks, I have come to realize that Mable would be a better choice for me.” A muscle on the side of Walter’s cheek twitched. “The truth is, Cynthia, you’re simply too immature for me.”
Her forehead creased. “You really think that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then why did you try to kiss me recently?”
“It was a test. To see if my feelings for you were stronger than I’d thought.”
Cynthia’s jaw clenched. The idea that Walter would need to test his feelings for her by a mere kiss made her angry. And the fact that he saw her as immature only added to her irritation. And while she was relieved he no longer wanted to marry her, she couldn’t believe Walter had asked Mama to marry him. It made no sense at all.
“What does my mother have to say about this?” Cynthia asked, challenging Walter with her eyes.
“She’s agreeable to it.”
Cynthia stared at Walter in disbelief. Never had she expected such a turn of events. “I—I don’t believe you. What would make Mama agree to this?”
“I think it would be best if you asked her that yourself.” He leaned against the wagon with a smug expression.
“Yes, I certainly will.” Cynthia pulled her shawl tighter and turned to leave, but he stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder.
“There’s one more thing,” Walter said.
She turned back around. “What’s that?”
“I want you to know that as my future stepdaughter, I will provide for your needs.”
“There’s no reason for that,” Cynthia said with a huff. “I can make my own way.” She pivoted around and hurried toward the cabin, anxious to speak to her mother and get this resolved. The nerve of that man, trying to keep a hold on me! And now as his stepdaughter—no!
Chapter 12
Cynthia rushed into the cabin but realized right away that this wasn’t a good time to talk with her mother, as dinner was ready to serve. Their talk would have to wait.
Soon everyone gathered around the table, and after Jack offered a blessing, they ate and visited. The whole time, Cynthia kept glancing at Walter and Mama to see if they might say something about their future plans, but neither said a word.
Maybe Walter made the whole thing up, she told herself. After all, she’d never seen much interaction between her mother and Walter except the usual conversation. Of course, I have no idea what Walter may have said to Mama when I was out walking or spending time with Jack’s children. When we reach California, he might be planning to discard me and Mama like pieces of unusable luggage. Maybe after traveling all this way with two women in his wagon, Walter’s decided he doesn’t need a wife telling him what to do. But what if Walter was telling the truth when he said Mama had agreed to marry him? Where will that leave me when we reach our destination? I wouldn’t feel right about taking any charity from him.
“You’re awfully quiet, Cynthia,” Mama said, pulling Cynthia out of her musings. “Don’t you care for the delicious turkey that has miraculously graced our table today?”
Cynthia blinked several times. “Uh, yes, it’s delicious. I was just thinking.”
“About what?” Cole asked, looking at Cynthia strangely.
She smiled and said, “Oh, how grateful I am for this good meal and being able to spend Christmas in the warmth of this cabin with the friends I’ve made on our journey.”
“We’ve all become friends,” Virginia said, reaching over and giving Cynthia’s arm a gentle squeeze. “When we first began this journey, we were strangers, but working together and helping each other through each trial that’s come our way has strengthened us as people and given us a better understanding of each other.”
Maybe he doesn’t see any of us as friends, Cynthia thought. He probably thinks we’re all beneath him. She was glad Walter was no longer interested in marrying her, but if he had somehow talked Mama into becoming his wife, he would be her stepfather. I will not have that man thinking he can tell me what to do.
Her appetite gone and her head pounding, Cynthia pushed her chair away from the table and stood.
“Where are you going?” Mama called as Cynthia grabbed her shawl and headed for the door.
“I—I need a bit of fresh air.”
Cynthia had no more than gone out the door when it opened again, and Mama stepped out behind her. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You’re not feeling ill, I hope.”
Cynthia shook her head. “I’m upset about something Walter told me earlier.”
Mama stepped forward and placed her hand on Cynthia’s arm. “Was it about me agreeing to marry him?”
Cynthia swallowed hard. “Is it true, Mama? Did you tell Walter you would become his wife?”
Mama nodded.
“When did this happen?”
“During the time you’ve spent with Jack’s children, Walter and I have done a lot of talking. And since being here at the cabin, we’ve reached an agreement.” Mama rubbed her hands briskly over her arms, obviously trying to warm them against the cold. “When Walter informed me that he didn’t think you were the right woman for him, I nearly panicked, knowing how much we needed him. But then Walter surprised me by saying that he thought he and I should be married, and that I would make him a better wife. So after talking about it some more, I agreed to marry him.”
“I never saw this coming, and I surely can’t let you make that sacrifice,” Cynthia said, shaking her head. “I don’t believe you love Walter any more than I do.”
“It’s not about love,” Mama said. “It’s about financial security and companionship, and Walter can offer me both.”
The WESTWARD Christmas BRIDES COLLECTION: 9 Historical Romances Answer the Call of the American West Page 6