He pushed the clean pile to her and pulled more of the others to himself. “Josephine, I’d be honored if you would share my dream with me. And if you should ever think of something you want to do, I’d be pleased to be a part of that, too.”
Josephine smiled at him. He was trying, and for that she was grateful. “Thank you. I’ve never lived on a cattle ranch, but if it will make you happy, I’m willing to try.”
“I’ve been saving the money I’ve earned riding for the Pony Express. I’m not sure when I’ll have enough saved to actually buy the land and cattle we’ll need to get it started.” Thomas finished the last bit of beans he’d pulled toward him and pushed the clean pile back to her, then scooped up the rocks and tiny dirt clods into his hand.
She watched as he walked to the back door and tossed the debris away. When he returned to the table, she asked, “Why did you stop riding? With the money the Pony Express pays, you could afford to get your ranch much quicker.”
“I wanted to be closer to you.” His green eyes bored into hers. “I thought if I stayed home, we could have a more natural life.”
Josephine felt her heart do a flip. “You stopped riding because of me?”
He nodded. “I didn’t like leaving you here for days at a time and I’m still making money being the relay station manager.” Thomas chuckled. “And I am tired of the harshness of the ride.”
She understood the latter part of his statement. Riding for hours on end at a grueling rate, through all types of weather and dangers, had grown old for her real fast. She was more than happy to leave the Pony Express trail behind. But did he really mean it when he’d said he quit because of her? He missed her? Could it be true?
Thomas stood again. “There’s a rider coming through here in a little bit. I best get out there and get his mount ready for him.” He walked to the door and pulled his coat from its hook. “You need any help with preparations for the Christmas dance?”
“Not unless you can sew.” She smiled up at him, then it dawned on her. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I should have asked you and Philip if you needed something sewed or repaired. Maybe a shirt washed?”
“No, I reckon not. I took mine out of storage and hung it out to air. Should be right as rain if I haven’t gained a few pounds from all the good cooking you do.”
“Thomas!” she scolded. “You bring those clothes to me and we’ll get them washed and spruced up. We can’t have you smelling all stale and hackneyed.”
He stepped into his bedroom and gathered the items from nails along the wall. She took them from him and gave him a backward glance over her shoulder. “I may even have a surprise for you to wear.”
“Well, I will treasure that surprise for certain.”
“How do you know? It could be something feminine or an equally detestable color of fabric.” Josephine found teasing him to be so easy, especially if it made him smile as he did now.
“Then I’ll explain that my new wife made it for me and not one person will fault me.” He turned to the door. “Of course, they will wonder what kind of wife would embarrass her husband so.”
He burst out laughing as he turned back in time to see her place a hand on her hip, sputtering and indignant. “Why, Thomas Young. As if I could ever make something ugly.”
As he left the warmth of the house, Josephine felt a chill run through her body. She pondered the past hour or so with Thomas. Was it possible he had begun to have feelings for her? Or was he simply stating that he felt that now that he was married, his place was to stay close to home? Josephine laid the clothes on the table and carried the beans to the stove. Now she wished she’d asked him what he meant by saying he didn’t like leaving her for days at a time. Would she ever be able to ask him what he meant? Or had she missed her opportunity?
* * *
Thomas raised his chin high, fiddling with the bow tie’s unfamiliar tightness. He cleaned up pretty well, if he did say so himself. An excitement had permeated their cabin these past few days as they’d worked together, doing chores ahead of time and washing and ironing clothes that hadn’t been worn since the last barn dance. He knew it was the same way at Ma’s, too.
He’d been at the past two Christmas dances, and the hard work had paid off, but Ma had driven them like an army sergeant. At least this year he and Philip had gotten out of the flurry of all that preparation.
He wondered what Josephine would say about his clean-shaven face. On a whim, he’d decided to show her what his respectable self looked like and he’d shaved all but his mustache. He ran a hand over the smoothness. He’d take some teasing from Philip, for sure, but it would be worth it if his Josephine liked it.
It wasn’t lost on him that the scar could be seen a bit clearer, nor was he unaware that Josephine’s opinion had come to mean a lot to him. But far from worrying him, this made him happy.
Somewhere along the line, his defenses had begun to subside. Their marriage had an indefinable feeling of rightness, even though it still served as a marriage of convenience. And though it bothered him that she might be concealing the fact that she carried a gold nugget around her neck, he found he enjoyed her easy nature and teasing ways.
A short rap sounded on the door and Philip entered, then whistled loudly. “Someone outdid themselves,” he called over his shoulder. “Josephine, come see.”
She rounded the door frame. “Oh, Thomas! You’re so handsome, you take my breath away.” She crossed the room and stood before him, her eyes studying his face.
“You like it?” His voice seemed to come from a long way off. He cleared his throat. He turned his head side to side so that she could see his clean-shaven face.
“It’s different, but I love it.” She took his face in her hands and caressed the smoothness of his cheeks and underneath his chin.
He caught her hands between his and held them out to her sides. “And look at you! How lovely. Why, you’re actually glowing.” He spun her around, loving her giggle. “You’ll be the belle of the ball this evening.”
“Don’t be silly, Thomas. I can’t hold a candle to the pretty girls that will show up.” Her hand moved to her mass of curls.
“In my eyes, you’ll be the only one I see.” Where had the confession come from? He searched her face to see what kind of reaction such bold words would have.
She leaned lightly into him, tilting her face toward him. He felt as if his breath were suddenly cut off and not by the bow tie. Was she leaning in for a kiss? Or was she simply going to tease him once more before dancing away?
“What’s going on in here?” Hazel stepped into the room. “We’re going to be late.”
Josephine immediately pulled away from him. Frustration welled up in Thomas. Would he never be alone with his wife? Did he really want to be?
“Well, now, Hazel, you interrupted a syrupy little scene where the two lovebirds were gushing over how beautiful they are to each other. It was pert near nauseating.” Philip laughed. “Thank the Lord you came in when you did.” His teasing caused stains of scarlet to appear on Josephine’s cheeks.
Thomas was having none of it. He tucked her hand into his elbow and walked with her to his door. “There was a time when a man’s bedroom was his sanctuary. Uninvited guests could be tossed out on their ear.”
Philip roared with laughter and Hazel chuckled. “That’s rich, brother, since Josephine and Hazel are the uninvited guests. It’s my room, too.”
“And as I’ve already pointed out,” Hazel said, “that situation needs to be resolved.”
“And you’ve also pointed out that we’re going to be late, so let’s get into the wagon. Let’s get going.” Thomas noted Josephine’s silence, but the eyes she turned up to him were openly amused. Then her eyes rounded and she pulled away from him.
“Thomas, I almost forgot your gift. Philip, will you carry these things to the wagon, then help Ha
zel in, while I show Thomas what I made him especially for tonight?”
“Hmm, Hazel, let’s go. I think we’ve just been dismissed.”
Thomas felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. His little wife knew how to clear a room if she wanted to. He found her actions almost as pleasing as the idea of a gift. As the door closed behind the other two, Josephine went to the hearth and lifted a small package off the mantel. She handed it to him, then clenched both hands in front of her. When he kept staring at her, she gestured for him to open it.
“This is lovely.” Inside lay a silken piece of fabric, almost the same color of the blue shirt he wore. As he lifted it out of the package, he tossed the wrapping on the chair behind them. The softness of the fabric against his palm felt amazing.
“It’s a scarf, Thomas.” She took it from him and, standing on tiptoe, placed it around his neck. Her hair touched his cheek and her breath against his ear sent a tingle of happiness down his spine. She crossed the ends over each other under his chin, then patted his chest. Her eyes glowed with pride at her accomplishment. “Oh, it looks so good on you, Thomas. The color is perfect.”
He studied what he could see of the scarf and noticed a green thread mingled with the blue, a contrast that would allow him to wear it with several different colors. But none could compare with the glow and color in the brown eyes staring up at him. “Yes, the color is perfect, and so are the hands that made it.” He took her hands and placed a kiss in each palm. Then he pulled her into a close hug. They remained like that, each lost in their own thoughts and feelings, till a shrill whistle rent the air. Thomas gathered her close under one arm and led them to the wagon.
This promised to be the perfect evening.
Chapter Seventeen
Josephine’s mouth dropped open in awe and a soft gasp escaped her. The Young family’s new barn was a delight to behold. Tiny lanterns were strung from the rafters, adding a golden glow to the freshly cut logs and wood floor. Sprigs of mistletoe and holly were placed high and in bunches along the walls. Knitted socks striped like candy canes hung behind the woodstove and the crisp greenery scents stated Christmas loud and clear. Pine cones filled a huge basket and red bows decorated the sides of the basket.
And if that weren’t enough, the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin bread wafted through the air, drawing them toward tables set near the woodstove. But the center of attention could only be the huge Christmas tree reaching almost to the eaves. It held decorations of every kind, type and make. There were wooden ornaments, cloth ones and paper chains. Josephine had never seen anything like it.
“Looks like a good thing we didn’t get the stalls made and the tack room finished. This open floor is perfect for a barn dance.” Thomas addressed Philip but included Josephine in the conversation, making her feel that she belonged.
Philip placed the basket of food Josephine had prepared on the table with the other bowls. She began removing the dishes she’d brought, Hazel doing the same. Thomas helped her place the deer stew with the meat and the sweet-potato pie with the vegetables. Philip lent the women a hand, but they were still close enough to talk undisturbed.
“I didn’t know you were supposed to be working on this barn,” Josephine said. “I’ve had you making furniture every free minute you had. I fear your ma might be a tad upset with me.”
“No, no, it’s not like that. We helped get it under roof last year when the barn burned down, but Seth didn’t want the inside built with green logs. If you look closely, you’ll see the logs are cut and drying but being used as seats around the dance floor.” Philip pointed them out to her and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Then they heard Seth clear his throat and begin welcoming everyone to the dance. Rebecca stood by his side, beautiful in a new white dress that looked straight out of the pages of a magazine. She stared at her husband as if he was the best thing since warm buttered popcorn. Josephine felt a tiny bit of envy. What would it be like to know that kind of love?
Everyone bowed their head for prayer, and then the fiddler started a round of “My Bonny Lass.” Before long they lined up to do a Virginia reel and Josephine whirled and glided till she felt completely out of breath and begged to sit a few songs out. Thomas teased her, but his mother came to her rescue.
“Josephine, will you come to the house with me? I need to fetch more bread and check on my stew. I kept it cooking on the house stove so others could heat things up in here.”
Josephine started when Rebecca hooked their arms together and enjoyed a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time as Rebecca greeted others, instructing them where to place certain items. She felt like a real daughter-in-law, though there was nothing further from the truth.
Outside the barn, the winter air cooled her flushed cheeks and she shivered, thankful for the warmth of their close bodies. They entered the house and Josephine stopped in her tracks.
Then she said the first thing that entered her mind. “You certainly go overboard for Christmas.” She immediately regretted the words and tried to explain. “I don’t mean in a bad way. Just that there are lots of decorations here and in the barn. They’re so beautiful.”
Rebecca didn’t seem in the least offended. “Let me explain.” She headed straight to the stove while Josephine took in the tree, not quite as tall as the one in the barn and decorated in angels made from hankies and paper—there were even knitted ones—as well as crosses and tiny handmade paper Bibles. It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen and so unique.
Then her eyes caught the mantel. Five white china plates, painted with the manger scene and a yellow star, were propped in a groove carved in the wood. A strand of holly with red berries twined between the plates, making the art stand out even more. On the hearth were wooden replicas of Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus. Josephine reverently touched the pieces, her heart in her throat.
“When I was a kid in the orphanage, there was no celebration of Christmas at all,” Rebecca said. “And if the headmistress caught us with candy canes or even a red bow, she would discipline us. In school we made paper chains to put all over the room and were given an orange to eat, but absolutely not at the orphanage.”
She paused as if in deep thought, then shook her head slightly and continued. “My faith grew so strong during that time. It’s actually the only thing I had to rely on. It kept me sane and I repeatedly asked if I could read the Christmas story from the Bible to the other kids, but was never allowed to. I so enjoyed the passage from chapter two in the book of Luke, and I made cloth dolls with the manger scene occupants to secretly entertain the younger children. But the headmistress found them and punished me without supper that night. I made my mind up then and there that when I became an adult, I would celebrate the birth of our Savior more than any other holiday that we might observe.”
She lifted the stew from the stove and set it on the table. “But then life happened and I forgot it. Then, one night, I told John all the things I missed as a child and how much I’d especially missed Christmas. From then on, every Christmas, the decorations became more meaningful and more...well, just lots more.” She laughed and Josephine could see why all the Pony Express boys loved her so much. Rebecca nodded at a linen-covered platter. “Will you bring the bread, Josie?”
Josephine stared at her a brief moment and then hurried to do as Rebecca asked. Only her uncle and Mr. Grossman had ever called her Josie. But instead of saying it with mockery, there was a warmth in Rebecca’s tone.
Josephine was of a mind that you only gave nicknames to the people dear to your heart. Could that be why Rebecca had called her Josie? She felt a warm glow flow through her. She exhaled a long sigh of contentment. Tonight there were no shadows across her heart.
When they reentered the barn, she noticed Thomas seemed agitated as he spoke to Hazel. Hazel nodded toward where she and Rebecca stood by the door waiting for a pathway to the
tables. Immediately his frown cleared and a smile as intimate as a kiss crossed his lips. He made his way toward them, weaving through the bodies that seemed to have tripled since their trip to the house.
She watched him, impressed with the presence he commanded and happily flattered with the eager affection he seemed not to care that anyone saw. His hands closed over hers where they held the platter. He leaned in close, his mouth near her ear.
“I missed you.”
The intensity in his lowered voice and the shared private moment gave her a pulse-pounding confidence. She smiled into his eyes, placed a hand on his chest and spoke in a voice she hardly recognized. “Likewise.” Josephine knew it was true. She had missed him in the short time they were apart.
“Yes?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely.” In the background the fiddle music had become sweeter and someone began playing a soft medley on the harmonica.
“Then may I have this dance, Mrs. Young?”
She eagerly passed the plate of bread to the nearest person, not even sure who it was, and placed her hand in that of her husband. They danced in front of the tall Christmas tree. Josephine knew this would become a night she’d never forget, no matter the circumstances ahead.
* * *
Several days later, Josephine paced the sitting room. Darkness filled the windows as the clock on the fireplace mantel ticked the hours away. Where was Thomas? He had gone to town to pick up supplies for the Pony Express and had said he’d be home by dark. It was almost midnight.
She heard the sound of a horse arriving in the front yard. Josephine hurried to the front door and pulled it open. It would be either Philip, who had been gone hunting all day, or Thomas. She held the lantern up over her head and waited for the rider to come into view.
A man entered the lamplight and called out at the same time. “Josephine Dooly, is that you?”
Her heart rate sped up and Josephine almost stepped back through the doorway and slammed the door. He’d found her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and answered, “Yes, Uncle. It is me.”
Pony Express Christmas Bride Page 14