A Christmas Promise

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “No Christmas could compare to last year,” he said, remembering the wealth of gifts he had received and the hard journey that brought them all together as a family.

  “Each Christmas brings its own gift, son.”

  “What is the gift?” he asked, hoping to resurrect some of the Christmas spirit he’d felt before ruining his friendship with Leo.

  “It’s something you must find on your own.”

  As Adam tried to solve the puzzle his father had given him they drove into the Cavneys’ small dairy farm.

  “Come on, son. It’s time to build these folks a new kitchen.”

  Kyle was already in the yard with a wagon full of lumber and a crew from their other sawmill, which had once belonged to his wife’s father. Radford and Boyd Grayson rolled in behind them with a wagon full of tools, nails and other supplies. As the four Grayson men rallied their crews to help the Cavney family, Adam stood beside his father and uncles and told himself he would become a man of their caliber.

  The charred ruins of the kitchen and upstairs bedrooms had been cleared away by several mill hands earlier in the week in preparation. As walls, roof and ceilings were framed in the smell of smoke was replaced by the scent of fresh cut wood.

  They worked until dark on Saturday and took Sunday off.

  At first light Monday morning they were back at Cavneys’ farm. The staccato sound of hammers rang through their pasture and apple orchards from first morning light to dusk. By Wednesday evening the kitchen and two upstairs bedrooms were walled and floored. Doors and windows had been installed in all rooms.

  As a special gift to Mrs. Cavney, they had added a pantry and new shed onto her kitchen.

  Mr. Cavney was working in the kitchen with four other men, hauling in a new stove and installing a large sink.

  Mrs. Cavney cried in gratitude while Faith and a slew of other women set up a makeshift table and filled it with baskets of food. Claire and Amelia Grayson were there and so was Anna Levens, but it was Rebecca’s pretty face that captured Adam’s attention each time she came outside to fetch another basket from one of the carriages.

  Someone had built a small fire in the yard to give the crew a place to warm their hands while they finished the job. But the fire reminded Adam of Rebecca and the warmth they would someday share in their own home. Helping rebuild the Cavney house was teaching him how to build his own house.

  Someday, sweet Rebecca, I will build you a house.

  The whack-thud of hammers coming from the roof where Adam’s uncles and several mill hands were nailing shingles in place reminded him to focus on the task at hand. He was working on the low shed roof with his dad and Leo and one of the Cavney boys, who was shivering and wiping his wet nose. Little Sam Cavney and his brother Ned had lost most of their clothes when the fire consumed their bedrooms. The fire also destroyed the kitchen and their old attached shed where the family hung their jackets. So now, ten-year-old Sam was trying to stay warm in his father’s oversized flannel shirt and a pair of mismatched mittens. His family would recover eventually, but it would be a hard, uncomfortable road for them.

  Watching Sam turtle into the shirt collar, trying to keep his ears warm, reminded Adam of the miserable existence he had lived before his sister married Duke. Back then he accepted the discomfort because he couldn’t do anything to change it. But then Duke came along and brought warmth and fun to their lives. Now Adam woke to a warm house and a hot breakfast every single day. He had plenty to eat and warm clothes to wear. He had a dad who would hug him and take him hunting and jest and laugh with him. That was more than he ever expected or dreamed of having. And it was so much more than Sam Cavney had at the moment.

  “Here, Sammy, this will keep your ears warm.” He pulled off his hat and held it out to the boy.

  Red-cheeked, jaw quivering, Sam looked at the hat with longing.

  Leo stopped hammering and sat back on his heels to watch.

  “You can keep it,” Adam said, letting go of his favorite possession. “I’m tired of this old thing making my head itch.” He glanced at his dad, hoping he wouldn’t be offended that he was giving away the hat.

  His dad continued nailing a shingle in place, but the half-grin on his face let Adam know he approved.

  “You’re r-really giving it to me?” the boy asked again.

  The surprise and awe in Sam’s voice sent a rush of warmth through Adam’s chest. “Put it on while it’s still warm.”

  Sam grabbed the hat and yanked it low over his ears. “T-thank you.”

  “Hey, kid.” Leo pointed to Sam’s head. “You take care of that. It’s a lucky hat, you know.”

  Sam’s eyes rounded. “It is?” He turned to Adam for confirmation.

  Adam nodded, but he was looking at Leo and seeing an ember of their friendship rekindle.

  “That was nice,” Leo said. “You sure you can part with it?”

  “Sam needs it more than I do.”

  “Good for you.” He turned back to the waiting shingles. “Let’s finish this roof before we all freeze to death.”

  Adam felt his spirit soar into the winter sky. The ice around their friendship was thawing.

  As soon as the job was finished they went inside where everyone was gathering to celebrate.

  The Cavney family thanked the crew with hot cider that they had heated outside over the fire.

  Rebecca was helping Faith and other women serve thick slices of beef, breads and mince pies that they had made. It was a night of celebration, but all Adam could think about was helping other folks like the Cavneys’ who were having hard times.

  As soon as everyone had a full plate, he found Rebecca. “I thought your mother would be here this evening.”

  “Hannah has a sniffle, so mama stayed home with her. Grandma has Uncle Boyd’s and Uncle Kyle’s kids, so mama didn’t want to leave Hannah there and risk getting the others sick. She was glad I wanted to come and help out.”

  “I’m glad, too,” Adam said, liking the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

  “Looks like you might be fixing things with Leo,” she said.

  He shrugged because he wasn’t certain, but he hoped that was the case. “Do you think your family would let me borrow your toboggan?” he asked.

  Her brows furrowed as if his question confused her. “I suppose they would, but usually the whole family goes sledding together.”

  “It’s not for sledding. I want to deliver firewood to a few families that don’t have any.”

  “On the toboggan?”

  He nodded. “If I can get more scrap wood from the mill.”

  “I can’t imagine they’d say no.” She reached out and tugged her father’s arm. Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his waist and gazed up at her tall, handsome father with a look in her eyes that said she wanted something. “Can Adam borrow our toboggan?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can he also have some more slabs from the mill?”

  He smiled, apparently used to her game. “Sure.”

  “He might need a lot more.”

  Before her father could ask, Adam’s dad leaned around his shoulder. “How many more blocks you planning to make?”

  Adam flushed at the sudden attention. “None, sir. I want to drop some slabs off to the Horace family and old Gus and maybe Mr. and Mrs. Smith. When I was shoveling for them I noticed they didn’t have any firewood.”

  “And you’re planning to deliver it on our toboggan?” Radford asked with a wry grin.

  “Yes, sir. If that would be okay with you.”

  “How do you know these folks need wood?” he asked.

  “Old Gus said he was burning some furniture he wanted to get rid of, but I think it’s because he doesn’t have any wood. When I knocked to let Mrs. Smith know her walk was shoveled, she was bundled up in her coat and boots. She said she was going out, but her breath was fogging and she was standing inside her foyer.” He turned to his father for help. “I don’t think they’ll be getting any w
ood, Dad. And I’m sure there are other folks in the village with the same problem.”

  “That’s awful!” Rebecca stepped back to stand beside Adam. “It’s sad to think those people might be cold. Daddy, we have to help.”

  Radford and Duke exchanged a look.

  Adam feared they would say no. “Please, sir. Being cold is the worst thing in the world and... and those slabs could keep those folks warm.”

  “I think you’ll need more than a toboggan to get firewood to our neighbors,” Radford said.

  Duke nodded in agreement. “I think a wagon full of slabs will fill a lot more stoves.”

  Adam’s heart leapt at the thought of how much a whole wagon full of slabs would help people like the Horace’s and Old Gus. “Could I get one?” he asked, barely daring to believe his good fortune.

  “No,” Radford said, his expression so serious it sent Adam’s stomach into a swirl of nausea. “You can have several wagonloads.”

  For a second Adam wasn’t sure he heard right, but Rebecca’s shriek of joy told him he had. As she plastered a kiss on her father’s and uncle’s cheeks, he felt laughter bubble up inside at Radford’s teasing.

  “Thank you, Sir! Thank you, Dad!” He turned to Leo, eager to share his excitement, but Leo was across the room talking with Cyrus.

  “What’s going on over here?” Faith asked, followed by Boyd and Kyle Grayson, who wanted to know what the ruckus was about.

  “We’re going to deliver firewood to Old Gus and our neighbors who need wood.” Adam was so caught up in his excitement he didn’t mind if he sounded more like a boy than a man of fourteen.

  “Looks like we have a little Saint Nick in our midst.” Boyd wrestled him into a hug and ruffled his wild hair as he’d been doing since Adam had become a Grayson. “I want in on this venture.”

  Adam danced away laughing, feeling happier than he’d felt in a long time. “You can drive a wagon, if you want.”

  The commotion got everyone’s attention, and Adam took full advantage of it. “Does anyone know of any neighbors who might need wood?” he asked. “I’ll be taking a wagon of slabs around tomorrow.”

  “Mulburys could use a little help,” Mr. Cavney said, standing beside his beaming wife. “Their stash of fuel is nearly gone.”

  “What about Sacketts?” one of the mill hands, asked. “They been havin’ hard times from what I hear.”

  “They have,” his aunt Claire said, “but I think a basket of food would be just as welcome in their household.”

  “Then let’s take them one,” Adam said. “I could drop it off when I deliver the wood.”

  A smile lit Claire’s beautiful face, and he could easily understand why his uncle Boyd had fallen madly in love with her. “Thank you, Adam. I’ll have a basket ready for you.”

  “So will I,” Faith said, smiling at him with pride in her eyes. “And I’ll have one made up for the Jamisens.”

  “Can you add the Straust family to your route?” his aunt Amelia asked. “I have some scarves and mittens for their children and I’ll include a hamper of chicken and mince pie for them, if you’d like to deliver it.”

  “You bet!” Adam felt his chest expand with happiness as others offered baskets of food and items of comfort or necessity. He knew firsthand what these gifts would mean to those who desperately needed them. It would bring them warmth and comfort and... hope.

  In that moment, his imagination soared. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could make sure every home in our village was warm and every belly full on Christmas Eve?” he blurted. “Even one night of comfort is a gift when you’re cold and hungry.”

  As if he had fired a gun, everyone stopped talking and stared at him, mostly in wonder.

  Only the Grayson family knew of his background and that he had intimately known a life of destitution. No one else could know the truth.

  Being the center of attention made his face flame, but he ignored his burning ears and forged ahead with his plan. “We’ve all been cold and hungry, haven’t we?”

  Everyone nodded and murmured their agreement.

  “Then we should try to help out. Shouldn’t we?”

  “Yes, we should,” Mrs. Cavney said, breaking the awkward silence. “Now that I have a kitchen, I’ll bake a chicken in my new oven and you can deliver it wherever it’s needed most.”

  The food was needed most on her own table, but she understood the spirit of Adam’s mission and wanted to contribute.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Cavney,” he said, relieved that she had directed everyone’s attention back to the purpose of their conversation. “But I think folks would enjoy a cup of your delicious cider,” he said, hoping she would accept his suggestion. Sharing their abundant apple harvest would be far less of a sacrifice than depleting their limited stock of chickens.

  A smile blossomed on her face. “Then that’s what we shall contribute,” she said.

  “I’ll bake some cookies,” Rebecca offered.

  Two of the mill hands said they would contribute enough venison for four families.

  Overwhelmed by the magnitude of everyone’s generosity and what he was getting himself into, he looked at Rebecca for help. “I’m going to need a list for all of this stuff and where it should be delivered.”

  “You’re going to need another wagon,” she said, her eyes as wide as her smile.

  Anna embraced them both as she’d done when they visited her home. “It might save you time if everyone drops their baskets at the Hermitage House and you pick them up there,” she said. “I have a house full of women who love to cook, and we can add a few baskets to your collection.”

  “That would be wonderful, Mrs. Levens,” he said, relieved that he wouldn’t have to manage all this alone.

  “Adam and I might be able to add a few quails or a turkey or two to fill your pots and ovens,” his dad said.

  Adam’s jaw dropped. “Really, Dad?”

  “If Mrs. Levens and her friends are willing to do the cooking, I’ll take you hunting tomorrow morning.”

  “Absolutely,” Anna said. “We all know which neighbors are in need. Let’s gather their names and I’ll make a list so Adam knows where to deliver the baskets.”

  “I can help with the list and the cooking,” Faith said, which was immediately chorused by the other women there.

  “Can’t we just deliver the birds uncooked?” Adam asked.

  “Sure,” Faith said. “But if I were on the receiving end I would be delighted to have a meal delivered that I didn’t have to cook.”

  The ladies laughed and agreed.

  “All right,” he said. “But it’s going to be hard to keep my hand out of those baskets with everything smelling so good.”

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t pick,” Rebecca said, swinging her gaze to her father. “I can help deliver the baskets, can’t I?”

  Cyrus saved him from answering. “Leo and I will drive one of the wagons,” he said, his eyes reflecting his pleasure in having Leo at his side.

  Adam’s heart sank. He’d been hoping he and Rebecca and Leo could drive their own team and make deliveries together. Swallowing his disappointment, he said, “Thank you, Uncle Cyrus.”

  “Bring Leo to our hunt in the morning?” his father said. “I’m sure a few more birds in the oven will be well received by our neighbors.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  “Dad, some of these people need wood right now. I don’t think we should wait two days to deliver it.”

  “We’ll send the crew around with deliveries tomorrow morning. We can send out a few more wagons on Christmas Eve to keep those folks warm through the winter.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” Adam scanned the faces of those around him. “Thank you, everyone.”

  His father stood, hands on hips, eying him closely. “This is becoming a big job, son. Can you manage all this?”

  “Yes, sir.” He lifted his chin and looked proudly into his father’s eyes. “But not with the toboggan.”

  Lau
ghter filled the Cavney house. After the tragedy of losing so much to a fire, it was nice that their first memory in their new kitchen would be one of community and laughter.

  Chapter Seven

  One of Adam’s favorite things to do was to hunt with his dad. Scout loved the hunt as much as he did. But today Adam would hunt with Leo.

  After settling the team and wagon beneath a shelter on the backside of Kent’s farm, the five of them followed a rutted wagon road along a frozen cornfield. At the north corner post of the split rail fence around Kent’s cow pasture, Adam entered the woods. A sprawling sumac with flamboyant cones of red berries created a stark but magnificent contrast against the muted brown tree line.

  His uncle Boyd entered the woods behind them and headed a safe distance west of Adam and Leo, but close enough to signal for help.

  Adam’s dad and uncle kept walking. They would enter farther down the wood line to the east.

  As Adam moved into the forest it got colder and darker, but he knew these woods well. “This way,” he said, indicating a partially worn path that wove through tall evergreens and thick, leafless birch, oak and maple trees. “This isn’t a trailhead,” he said, “but it will get us deeper into this woodlot without a lot of trouble.”

  With their rifles safely on their shoulders, they navigated the woods with Scout tracking quietly. They stepped over fallen trees, and pushed past the frozen canes and dried stalks of what would become thick underbrush by summer.

  “I hope you know where you’re going,” Leo said. “I’d hate to get lost out here.”

  “I know this area like I know my own hands. This is one of the places Faith and I come to collect roots and herbs.” Adam pointed to an open area of conifer trees. “I pick wild mushrooms over there in the summer and fall. On the far edge of this woodlot there’s a swampy creek with a big beaver dam and a whole mess of blueberry bushes along the banks. I get berries fat as my thumb in July. We get leeks out near the dam, too, and they’re not easy to find.”