Silver Belles and Stetsons

by Caroline Clemmons

  “This was a tragedy. Did they learn the fire’s cause?”

  “The owner of one place was found guilty of arson. Bad management meant he was in danger of going bankrupt. Of course insurance repaid Dad most of what he’d lost financially, but he no longer had any taste for his father’s business. That’s when my uncle talked Dad into moving to the Texas coast.”

  “And your mother, she was French?”

  “For several generations back. Her maiden name was Thibodeaux. None of my grandparents are still living, but Mama has two brothers and three sisters.”

  “Hope is like a sister, but I always wished for brothers.”

  “When we were girls, Rosalyn and I talked of having large families. We both wished we had lots of siblings.”

  “Here we are at your home. I hope our parents have become friends.”

  “Your home is so large and beautiful. I’m glad Mama hasn’t seen it or she would feel this one is inferior.”

  “This is a perfectly nice place for two people and their charming daughter.” He opened the door for her to precede him.

  “Hmm, talk about charming, you always know what to say.”

  “So am I also charming?”

  She laughed. “Always. We have no maid on Sunday, so you sit with your parents and Dad while I help Mother.”

  But when she arrived inside the kitchen, she found Sofia Montoya helping her very flustered mother.

  Mama looked up from stirring what appeared to be gravy. ”I told Sofia she didn’t need to help, but she insisted.”

  Wearing an apron, Sofia glanced up from creaming potatoes. “But we can become better acquainted while we are in the kitchen, can we not?”

  Surprised Sofia knew how to cook, Celia asked, “Would you like for me to take over those potatoes?”

  “No, these are almost ready. Jorge brought wine, so perhaps you can take glasses to the table.” She looked at Celia’s mother. “That is, if serving wine today will be all right.”

  Her mother nodded. “Certainly. Please hurry, Celia. We’re almost ready to serve.”

  Celia polished the wine glasses and matching water goblets and set them around the table. She pumped a pitcher of water and filled a goblet for each person, happy to see she hadn’t spilled any on her mother’s best white damask tablecloth. The table settings looked as attractive as any she’d seen. Her mother had nothing to worry about if—she hoped when—she one day saw the Montoya home.

  That thought aroused a host of what ifs. What if her parents and Eduardo’s actually became friends? What if he really was her beau? What if one day he proposed?

  Stop right now. Be happy with what you have. Don’t let worry about tomorrow steal today’s joy.

  Her mother entered the dining room carrying a bowl. “Celia, you bring the platter of meat. It’s too heavy for Sofia or me.”

  Sofia followed Celia’s mother bearing the potatoes.

  When Celia returned to the kitchen, Eduardo appeared. “May I help with something for you?”

  “You heard my mother say the meat was heavy, didn’t you?”

  “Hmmm, if I say yes, you’ll know I eavesdrop. Instead, I will let you imagine I have secret powers.” He picked up the platter and headed for the table.

  After the blessing, her father opened the wine. He went around the table until he’d served everyone. “And now I’d like to propose a toast to Eduardo for stopping a robbery, capturing the criminal, and most importantly, for saving Celia’s life.”

  Following the toast, he sat down. Talk about the robbery filled the room.

  Celia and Eduardo locked eyes and exchanged smiles. She was content to let conversation flow around her. Apparently he was too.

  After the meal was finished, Celia stood and cleared the table. “I’ll do the dishes while the rest of you sit in the parlor.”

  Eduardo picked up the platter. “I will help Celia.”

  She grinned at him, “Have you ever washed dishes?”

  “You will be surprised to learn I have and am now awaiting your directions.”

  Jorge gestured to his wife. “Come, ladies, let those younger than us work to repay for the excellent meal we just enjoyed.”

  Her mother glowed from his compliment but glanced at Celia. “If you’re sure you and Eduardo don’t mind, Celia, then perhaps I’ll show Sofia my sitting room.”

  Her father said, “I’ll take Jorge to my study and offer him one of those cigars you brought me.”

  Wondering what would come from their mothers and fathers time alone, Celia watched them go and decided she really didn’t care. So far, neither of Eduardo’s parents appeared to have been miffed by anything her parents did or said. She would have to give up guessing and relax.

  Eduardo must have read her mind. “You worry too much, querida. Our parents will be fine on their own.”

  “I hope so. Your parents are gracious, but sometimes mine can be…difficult.” She had visualized the Montoyas being so insulted they stormed out and forbid him from having anything more to do with her.

  He crossed his arms. “Everyone is difficult at times. Even you, as now when you move like a tornado. Are you so eager for our time alone to end?”

  She offered what she hoped was a coquettish smile. “The sooner the dishes are done, the sooner we can relax in the parlor where there is no one else.”

  “Aha, now I see your purpose, I will move like my galloping horse, Mercury.” He dried a dish and reached for another.

  She added more hot water to the dishpan. “We don’t allow horses in the house.”

  He shook his head. “Again you are being difficult. What is your problem that you are so contentious today?”

  She blinked innocently. “I don’t know this word contentious.”

  They burst out laughing.

  When their parents joined them, they were chatting before the fire in the parlor. Eduardo held her hand and had linked his fingers with hers.

  Her father checked the mantel clock. “Time for us to leave for church. I have to go to the parsonage and get into costume.”

  Celia rose and hugged her father. “I’m excited you’re playing Saint Nicholas, Dad. I hope we included every child who attends.”

  Eduardo held her coat. “Joel and the sheriff checked the list. They didn’t think of anyone we missed, but remember we have four extra gifts.”

  At church, the tree showed that each child was allowed to hang the ornaments he or she made. The top was almost bare while the lower branches were heavy with decoration. Excited, chattering children were already gathering near the front when Celia and Eduardo arrived.

  Celia asked him, “How does this work?”

  “The children are allowed to wait at the front until they’ve received their gifts. Then they’re supposed to go sit with their parents. If children are left at the front, we know they have been left out.”

  “I think I recognize all of the kids. Do you see a newcomer?”

  He clasped her hand in his. “No, but in the past, those have been the last to arrive. Querida, remember I am supposed to help pass out gifts. Can you sit with your mother?”

  She squeezed his hand. “Of course. I’m so proud of all you’ve done for these children.”

  She made her way to her mother and Eduardo’s parents. There was barely room for her on the pew. Even more people were present than last week.

  She leaned so she could speak to Sofia. “I wish I’d seen the toys Eduardo made. Did you get a look at them?”

  Her dark eyes lit with pleasure. “I even played with them. Such fun. He enjoys building them. Jorge helps with some.”

  Eduardo, Joel, and Mark stood at the front opposite the tree. They chatted among themselves while people filed in.

  The last children to make their way to the front were a boy of about seven guiding two younger girls. Celia wondered if these were the Tucker children whose parents rented from Zach Stone. Without her father to identify them, she could only speculate.

  James wal
ked to the lectern and welcomed everyone. “Judge Henderson has chosen the winner of the decorating contest. He says if you want to know who he picked, the names of the top three will be in tomorrow’s edition of his son’s newspaper.”

  He paused while everyone laughed. “Tomorrow night, we’ll meet at the parsonage to go caroling around town. Everyone is invited and singing ability is not a requirement.”

  Joel elbowed Mark and Eduardo. “Hear that, you two can come.”

  More laughter ensued.

  “And now my wife is going to read Mr. Moore’s ‘A Visit From St. Nicholas’ while we await our special guest.”

  Chapter Nine

  Celia noticed excited children appeared to be growing restless. As soon as Melissa Billings ended the poem, the loud jingle of sleigh bells sounded from outside. Amid gasps and squeals, the church door opened with a bang.

  In strode Celia’s dad dressed in a gorgeous wine velvet costume. Matching trousers were under the full-length coat trimmed in white fur. She had no idea whether Rosalyn created the white beard and wig or ordered them, but the effect was realistic. Celia hardly recognized her own father.

  As Saint Nicholas, his deepened voice called, “Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas. Have you been good boys and girls this year?”

  A chorus of “Yes” rang out. Apparently no child wanted to risk being skipped when Saint Nick passed out gifts.

  Her father sat in a large armchair facing the children and adults. “These three men have agreed to be my helpers tonight. Children, you’re to stay where you are until you receive your gifts. Then, take them back to sit with your parents before you open them. Does everyone understand what to do?”

  Shouts of “Yes” rattled the windows.

  She grew almost as enthusiastic as the children. She wished her father would hurry, yet at the same time she wanted to prolong the event.

  “Now, let’s pass out the presents. If you’ve been good or mostly good, there’s something here for you.”

  Eduardo, Joel, and Mark hurried over to assist. She’d wondered how her father would make sense of the piles of wrapped toys and clothes. Now she realized gifts had been tied together for each child.

  Joel produced a bundle and handed it to her father.

  Saint Nicholas gestured to a tiny girl of about two. “Kathleen Kelly, these are for you.”

  Sucking on her thumb, the toddler shyly accepted the packages. Her older brothers directed her to return to their parents. Mrs. Kelly hurried forward to assist her daughter.

  Celia strained to see what hand-made toy accompanied the child’s doll and two pairs of socks. Kathleen clapped her hands when she saw the cradle for her new doll. Celia was in awe of the tiny bed complete with a mattress and blanket.

  She leaned near Sofia. “Did Eduardo make that?”

  The smiled broadly. “And eleven more like it, though only ten are needed. Each is slightly different.”

  “And I’ll bet you made the blanket and mattress.”

  She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “I had fun doing so. We work on these projects all year and continually look for new things to make. Eduardo keeps a record of which children already have what so there aren’t duplications for each child.”

  Celia squeezed Sofia’s hand. “What a wonderful family you are. I’m privileged to have you as friends.”

  From her other side, her mother tugged on her arm. “What are you two saying?”

  Celia explained quietly, careful that no children could overhear.

  As if miffed at being outdone, her mother said, “I could do things like that. I just might do my own items for next year.”

  “That will be wonderful. I’m certain you’ll come up with creative projects. You were clever to think of scented soap for the older girls.”

  Her mother’s injured feelings soothed, they turned their attention to the row in front of them. Andrew Stone sat in Hope’s lap while Micah helped him unwrap a rocking chair. The rockers had already poked through the ends of the paper.

  Hope turned and smiled at Celia and her mother. She mouthed “Joel” and nodded at the chair her son had climbed down to investigate.

  Nearby, Alice and Zack helped their son sit in a rocker identical to his cousin Andrew’s and his cousin Nick’s.

  Boys from three to seven were unwrapping small wagons or stick horses as well as their marbles and socks. Older boys had received a cap and matching mittens along with a harmonica and a pocketknife. Celia wondered at the wisdom of presenting the Martin boys with a knife, but allowed the spirit of Christmas to soothe away her cares.

  Girls from thirteen up compared brush and comb sets and in some cases traded hair ribbons. They had each also received a colorful scarf and matching mittens, which they also traded with one another.

  Yesterday, Mama had suggested adding a rose-scented bar of soap for the older girls. Although James and Melissa drew the task of joining the late addition with the other gifts, the two had appeared pleased to do so. Celia was pleased to see the girls enthused about their grown-up gifts and thankful her father’s store carried a wide selection of merchandise.

  A commotion at the back caused her, and most people in attendance, to turn. A poorly-dressed man argued with two women. “I don’t need charity for my kids.”

  Celia couldn’t hear what the women said. The one nearest him looked as if she were near tears while the other woman’s expression bore signs of anger. The three children clutched their packages, their eyes round from what appeared fright. From her father’s description, Celia decided this must be the Tucker family.

  Zach Stone strode toward the back. Although Celia couldn’t distinguish his words, Zach’s placating tone obviously calmed the other man. Zach gestured to others in the sanctuary.

  She spotted Sheriff Parrish standing against a back wall. His arms were crossed and a frown marred his handsome face. She wondered if the sheriff had met this man on other occasions.

  Soon the situation was resolved and festivities resumed. Celia breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever the troublemaker was, she’d decided he was not a nice man. She worried about children growing up in that home.

  When each child there had received his or her gifts, Saint Nicholas stood. “Time for me to go. Goodbye, boys and girls.”

  Waves and “Goodbye” and “Thank you” followed him as he walked outside and closed the door behind him.

  The three helpers produced rubbish bins. Crushed paper was gathered for refuse or carefully folded by those who saved it to use again. Some children played with toys while others begged to go outside to play. Two little boys of about four raced up and down the center aisle riding stick horses.

  James Billings stood at the lectern. “Friends, let us give thanks for those in our community who once again provided this event. Years ago, Hope Montoya Stone and Eduardo Montoya and his parents founded tonight’s celebration. Since then other members of the Stone family as well as Mark Hardeman joined in. This year, we add Celia Dubois and George Sturdivant to the list. And we thank Rosalyn Stone for acting as Saint Nicholas’ tailor.”

  People applauded and Celia sensed the heat of a blush. She didn’t deserve a mention with those who had spent all year crafting toys. Or, like Rosalyn and Sofia, sewed beautifully.

  James continued, “Remember caroling tomorrow. I realize not all of you can return to town on a weeknight, but we believed today would be filled with enough excitement without adding caroling. We’ll leave from the parsonage Monday at six and sing through town for about an hour. In the meantime, let us give thanks to God for the gift of His son and for the community in which we live in freedom from oppression.”

  He led a brief benediction and dismissed them.

  Celia hugged her mother’s shoulders. “Wasn’t that fun?”

  “Well, yes, I enjoyed seeing the children. If only you—“

  Celia cut her off abruptly. “Sofia, Jorge, thank you for sharing your day with us. I can’t remember when I’ve had such a lovely afternoon.”

>   From behind her, Eduardo’s deep baritone announced, “Since you spent an afternoon with me, perhaps?”

  She turned to gaze into his sparkling dark eyes. “I admit you’re amazing, but even you are no match for a roomful of children receiving Christmas gifts from Saint Nicholas.”

  “Since you preface your crushing remark so sweetly, I forgive you on the condition you agree to go caroling with me tomorrow and then to a small party at the home of Rosalyn and Joel.”

  “I doubt they ever do anything small, but I’d love to go with you.” She looked behind them and discovered the family about whom she’d wondered had gone. “Was that awful man Mr. Tucker?”

  “Yes, Joel confirmed this for me.”

  “I feel sorry for those children. Their lives must be difficult.”

  “For many reasons. I am glad Zach was able to calm the man.”

  “Surely Mr. Tucker realized all the children received the same amount of gifts.”

  “I suspect he carries too big a chip on his shoulder to observe anything. At least for now the kids have their presents.”

  His father turned toward him. “Your mother and I will help gather the reserve toys and then we must go home.”

  Jorge bowed slightly to Celia’s mother. “We enjoyed your generous hospitality. Next we hope you and George will share a meal at our home.”

  Sofia clasped her mother’s hands. “Yes, Harriett, we wish for you and George to visit us and let us repay your kindness.”

  Her mother beamed. “We’ll be delighted, of course. I’ve enjoyed our time together and look forward to getting to know you better.”

  As the Montoyas walked away, Celia’s mother addressed Celia, “Isn’t that nice? But we should find your father and be on our way too. I’m ready to drop.”

  Celia knew her mother had been up late last night and then early this morning fretting over luncheon. Guilt reared momentarily, but she stomped the sensation into the floor. Her mother chose to fuss even when they’d prepared all they could do beforehand. Celia would not let anything spoil the pleasure of this day.

  ***