by Regina Scott
“The house is starting to look quite festive,” Rina said to Beth as she helped Mrs. Wallin bring plates to the table.
“Nora helped me,” Beth said.
Nora nodded her thanks. Then she forced herself to go perch on the bench, knitting her fingers in her lap.
“Very nicely done,” James agreed, looking around as if noticing the paper chains on the mantel for the first time. “You just couldn’t wait until Christmas Eve, could you, Beth?”
Beth put her nose in the air. “Well, it is nearly Christmas Adam.”
“Christmas what?” Catherine asked, taking her seat at the table.
“Christmas Adam,” Levi said, coming down the stairs. “Today’s the twenty-second. The twenty-third is the day before Christmas Eve, and Adam came before Eve so tomorrow is Christmas Adam.”
Nora tried to smile like everyone else. It was rather clever. But all she could think about was that kissing bough hanging near the front door. She rose and moved closer to it again.
James sidled up to her and glanced at it. “I cannot let that hang there without a second try, you know.”
For a moment, she thought he meant to kiss her, and she couldn’t help taking a step back. The only kiss she wanted was Simon’s. But James turned to the table, where the other ladies were gathered.
“Mrs. Wallin,” he called.
His mother, Catherine and Rina all looked up.
James laughed, then crooked his finger at his wife. “Rina, would you come here a moment?”
Rina smiled, her gaze going to the bough above him, before dropping to his face as she approached. “Yes, James?” she asked, all innocence.
“Happy almost Christmas Adam,” he said, then he bent his head and kissed her.
Oh, that Simon would look at her that way, would hold her so gently, as if she were precious. Another sigh escaped her as James released his bride, who gave him a rather wobbly smile.
“Perhaps you could find a quiet corner,” Simon suggested from the doorway, “so a man can enter his family’s home?”
Nora’s heart leaped in her chest. He was here. She brushed her palms against her skirt, stood straighter and offered him a bright smile.
“Quiet corner?” James returned with an upraised brow. “In this house?” He took Rina’s hand and made way for his brother.
And Simon strode past before Nora could intercept him.
“The spring pool had ice on top,” he reported to Drew, who was standing by the fire, absently scratching Fleet behind the ears. “I broke it up, but we’ll have to keep an eye on the situation. If that pool freezes solid, we’ll have to go a lot farther to water the animals.”
“Duly noted,” Drew said. “Thanks.”
Nora wandered over and plopped down on a chair. She’d missed the perfect opportunity. Simon wouldn’t pass below the bough again until it was time to leave. Her nerves would never last that long.
Beth must have realized the problem as well, for she hurried up to her brother. “Did you notice our decorations, Simon?”
Simon glanced around. He must have stopped by their cabin first, for his face was clean, his red-and-green-plaid shirt and rough trousers brushed free of the dirt he might otherwise have tracked in. Now he nodded slowly as if satisfied with the effort.
“Very nice, Beth,” he said. “You might want to straighten that paper chain on the mantel.”
Beth flushed. “Thank you so much for pointing that out. I’ll be sure to fix it. I just wanted you to know that Nora put a great deal of effort into the decorations too.”
Nora stood as Simon’s gaze swung her way.
“Thank you, Nora,” he said.
He didn’t even look at the bough. She felt as if she’d pinned all her hopes on air.
“It was no trouble,” she murmured.
But Beth wasn’t finished. “She worked particularly hard on the one by the door,” she said, her voice overly loud as if she wanted to make sure she had Simon’s attention.
Nora watched as Simon looked toward the kissing bough. Did he understand its significance? Would he make use of it? Had her chance come at last?
Nearby, James elbowed John, who had just come out from the kitchen. John nodded, and he wandered to the bough, head cocked as he considered it.
“Excellent work,” he pronounced. “Come see for yourself, Simon.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Simon said. “Like everything Nora turns her hand to.”
He thought she did good work? Warmth began to spread through her limbs.
“I don’t know,” James said, going to stand by John and staring up at the bough. “I think I spotted something loose, just there. See what I mean, Nora?”
Had she and Beth neglected to tie in an apple? She certainly wouldn’t want it to fall on anyone’s head!
Frowning, Nora went to join James. “Where?”
“There.” He bent to put his head next to hers and pointed upward, as if to lead her gaze. Then he winked at her.
Oh, the darlings! Simon’s brothers were trying to get him under the bough for her.
“I’m not quite certain what you mean, Brother James,” she said, afraid to look at him or she’d give away the game.
John shook his head. “I see the problem, James. But she’s too short to reach it. No offense meant, Nora.”
Nora could barely nod in agreement.
“So are we,” James pointed out. “Simon, why don’t you come over and see if you can fix it?”
She heard Simon’s sigh as he came to join them.
“Where?” he demanded, looking up.
James seized Simon’s shoulders and pivoted him until he was directly under the bough and facing Nora. “Just about there,” he said, releasing Simon and stepping back. “And really, brother, don’t you have better things to do under a kissing bough than look for problems?”
Simon’s head came down so fast she wondered that he didn’t get dizzy. But when his gaze met Nora’s, she was the one who felt as if she might swoon.
John cleared his throat. “If you like, I could show you how it’s done.”
“Go away, John,” Simon said. Then he bent his head and kissed her.
* * *
Nora melted in Simon’s arms, her lips soft beneath his. The room, his meddling brothers, everything faded away until there was only her. He felt as if his heart had been as frozen as the spring pool and was now thawing inch by inch. Once again, he didn’t want to let her go.
But somewhere, far beyond his embrace, he heard a yip. Raising his head, he found Fleet dancing around, just beyond Nora, as if he thought it all a great game.
Nora’s eyes had been closed. Now they opened wide, brimming with tears.
“Oh, Simon,” she murmured.
Had the kiss been that bad? Or that good? Was he a fool for even wondering?
“Levi, you may need to fire that rifle,” John said with a smile. “I think Simon forgot there are people waiting for dinner.”
“I think Simon forgot there was such a thing as dinner,” James agreed. He clapped Simon on the shoulder. “Come along, brother. You’ve done your duty, and right manfully too.”
Nora was turning red, and Simon could have wished his brother to the moon at that moment, but he knew James and John were right. It was time for dinner.
He waited as Nora led Fleet to the rug and settled him down again. But as she started toward the table, he offered her his arm. “May I?”
Nora glanced at his arm, then up at him as if surprised by the gesture. Perhaps Beth was right. Perhaps he hadn’t treated her with the respect and honor she deserved. That ended now.
As if she saw the determination in his gaze, Nora put her hand on his arm. “Yes, of course, Simon.”
He led her to the
table, and Levi made room for them on the bench.
“Nicely done,” his youngest brother murmured, and Simon wasn’t sure whether Levi meant escorting Nora to the table or finding the courage to kiss her.
James went so far as to wink at him as he took his seat next to his wife. Normally, his brother’s jokes failed to amuse Simon, but he had to admit James and John had done him a favor this time. Without their goading, he might never have met Nora under the kissing bough.
She sat next to him now, her cheeks still pink and her generous mouth turned up in a smile. Everything and everyone seemed to please her, but that was nothing new. Nora had mastered the art of contentment. He wasn’t sure how his kiss had affected her or what to do next.
His family had no such trouble. They engaged in lively conversation as soon as they sat down.
“We made excellent progress on the new acreage today,” Drew said as they passed the smoked salmon and a bowl of potatoes in cheese sauce. “Simon has a vision for it. Tell them.”
All gazes swung to him, Nora waiting expectantly. Simon swallowed the sip of water he’d taken. “I’m hoping to put in corn and beans,” he explained. “Nora knows a type that can be planted early, so we’ll have fresh produce all year.”
Nora beamed at him.
His mother nodded. “Very wise. Your father always hoped we’d get to this point on the claims.”
The salmon in his mouth seemed to taste sweeter.
“Always planning ahead, that’s our Simon,” John said. “Tell Nora about the town.”
Simon swallowed again. “Pa had a dream of a town along the lake, a place where people could come together in fellowship, helping each other. James is planning to claim the land along the lake that will give us the necessary space for the town proper while we use the better land for farming.”
James raised his wife’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the back. “I’m claiming it in Rina’s name.”
Rina smiled. “And that’s why you built the schoolhouse so large, for all the children you hope will one day live here.”
“That was Simon’s idea,” Drew said. “Of course, he wanted to build the hospital first, but we talked him out of it.”
“I think it was the other way around,” Simon reminded him. “You promised Catherine a place to ply her much-needed nursing skills. She had to convince you that a school should come first.”
Catherine smiled at him. “And then you went and found the perfect place for the dispensary.”
“Where?” Nora asked as if she hung on every word.
“There’s a shelf of land above the lake,” Simon said, “on James’s claim. It’s easy walking distance from Drew’s cabin, and closest to the road from town so those needing help can reach it quickly by land or by water.”
“An excellent location,” Catherine said. “I can always count on you, Simon, to think things through.”
Simon nodded, but he felt a frown forming. Why were they all going to such trouble to praise him? They were generally more likely to argue with him on every little matter.
“No doubt about it,” John said, digging into his mashed potatoes. “This is going to be a Christmas to remember.”
Ma beamed. “They all are, if you ask me.”
Beth giggled. “What about the year everyone found rocks in their stockings?”
Ma laughed. “That was James, always the tease.”
“He’d heard about how St. Nicholas is supposed to leave bad children coal instead of presents,” Simon explained to Nora.
Nora gazed up at him. “But you couldn’t have been bad, Simon.”
His face felt hot, and he realized he was blushing. Blushing!
James shrugged. “None of us was really bad. That was the joke. I couldn’t find coal, so I used basalt. Nearly tore a hole through Beth’s stocking.”
The others laughed.
“I remember Drew this one Christmas,” Ma put in as she smiled fondly. “He was four when your father started the custom of presents in the stockings, and he was big for his age even then. He nearly ripped the stocking in half trying to get to the ball that was inside.”
Drew chuckled.
“John, now,” Ma said, warming to her theme, “was always one to share. James would gobble down the sweets, knowing John would give him some of his.”
John grinned. “What are brothers for?”
“Wait until this Christmas Eve,” James said, “and I’ll remind you.”
Beside him, Nora stirred. “What about Simon?”
Simon stiffened, waiting for Ma or one of the others to complain about his behavior. Had he criticized a gift? Rehung a stocking in a more orderly fashion?
“Ah, Simon,” Ma said, favoring him with a smile. “I never had to worry about Simon. Whatever we managed to put in his stocking, he was always grateful for it, even in the lean years. He was a blessing to me and to his father.”
His eyes burned, and Simon had to look away. Was that really how his mother saw him—as a blessing?
“Yes, dear Simon,” James rhapsodized. “Such a treasure. It was only later that he began to resemble Mr. Dickens’s Scrooge.”
“James Tiberius Wallin!” Ma protested.
Simon knew who his brother meant. Beth had received a copy of A Christmas Carol last year in her stocking, and she had read it aloud to the family. Ebenezer Scrooge had struck Simon as a shrewd businessman who had allowed circumstances to bend his character. But surely that wasn’t Simon’s fate. Despite Ma’s claim about him being a sweet child, he thought he’d always been the cynic. His character hadn’t changed. That was precisely the problem. He didn’t know if he could change it now.
All throughout dinner and afterward, his family continued their crusade to make him appear the most perfect of men. They either played games they knew he excelled at, like matching composers to tunes, or let him win. Finally, Ma wished them all good-night and went up to her bedchamber, and everyone made their goodbyes. Drew and Catherine, then James and Rina, took a turn under the kissing bough, and he could feel Beth watching him as he and Nora moved toward the door. He paused for a moment, but Nora’s face turned red, and she called Fleet and all but ran with the dog out the door. Simon followed them.
Lanterns bobbed across the clearing as Drew and Catherine, and James and Rina, headed for their homes. Nora walked beside Simon, her head turning as she kept an eye on Fleet, who was coursing along with his nose to the ground. “I liked hearing stories about your family.”
So had he. “I’d heard most of them before,” Simon admitted. “Except the one where Ma thought me a blessing. That surprised me.”
Nora cast him a glance. “Why? You’re very good to your family, and to me. I’m sure we’re all grateful.”
Perhaps they were. Perhaps he simply hadn’t looked for the smiles or let the praise in before. He felt as if he’d been living in a shell that was gradually cracking open.
But what would he find when he emerged? And would that man have any more right to call himself Nora’s husband?
Chapter Seventeen
Had the kissing bough worked? There was a subtle difference in the way Simon talked, the way he looked at her. But Nora was afraid to hope. Wishing for Simon’s love was a little like wishing for the moon. Wouldn’t it always remain out of reach?
Yet when she woke the next morning, she could still feel the sweet pressure of his lips against hers, the warmth of his embrace. At last she understood why her friends seemed so delighted to be kissed by the men they loved. That had truly been a momentous kiss. She’d wanted to press herself closer, inhale the clean scent of him, give herself over to the feeling of being wanted.
Perhaps he was falling in love with her. It was nearly Christmas, after all. A time when anything was possible.
She cou
ldn’t help the anticipation that was building that day—Christmas Adam, she recalled. And she wasn’t the only one who felt it. Though the twenty-third was a Sunday, and she enjoyed another worship service with Simon and his family in the morning, the afternoon was spent in fevered preparation for the theatrical that evening. Some proper theatres refused to allow performances on the Lord’s Day, Nora knew, but since the Savior’s birth was the centerpiece of Rina’s play, the schoolteacher had allowed the show to go on.
Those who were performing spent a great deal of time in the barn, and Simon had taken Fleet up to the new acreage to keep him out of the way. Her husband had seemed a little disappointed when she had refused his offer to join him and Fleet, but she needed time to finish his waistcoat. Mrs. Wallin had pitched in to hem the back piece while Nora sewed on the buttons—emerald-colored glass from the notions she had amassed over the years. The color would draw attention to his eyes and go with the suit she hoped to sew him next.
Mrs. Wallin had risen to fetch them each a cup of tea when she frowned out the window. “Someone’s coming into the clearing. I believe it’s your brother, Nora.”
Nora joined her in peering out. A familiar cart rattled over the frozen ground and came to a stop, the horse’s breath fogging the air. Her spirits plummeted. “I’ll just go see what he wants.”
Mrs. Wallin caught her arm. “It will be all right, Nora. He must care to have come out on such a cold day as this and a Sunday. Invite him inside before he’s chilled clean through.”
Charles certainly looked chilled when Nora ran out to greet him. He was shivering in his brown wool coat, and the fur hat that sat on his chestnut hair did not seem to be warming his blue-tinged skin.
“Charles,” Nora greeted him with a nod. “What brings you out in this weather?”
He did not climb down. “Meredith insisted that I bring you your Christmas present.” He waved a hand to the box in the back of the cart.
Nora stared at it, then at him. “You brought me a present?”
Charles drew himself up. “Certainly I brought you a present. You are my sister, my only living kin. It is bad enough we must be separated on the most holy of days, but I wasn’t about to let you think we had forgotten you as easily as you’ve forgotten all we’ve done for you.”