A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection

by Lauralee Bliss

  “I’m sorry to hear this,” Mr. Hall said. “We do thank thee for gracing our home with thy presence and for helping chop wood. We enjoy having others come and stay, but we also know the road beckons to thee. May thee find a satisfactory ending to thy wanderings.”

  Silas was both happy and unhappy. Thankful Barzillai was well and he could continue his journey westward. But sad, too, that he would leave a family who appeared ready to have him be on his way, despite their friendly attentions. Did Mary feel the same? he wondered. He cast a glance at her, but she said nothing. It was fitting. Elder Daniel stood poised to court her. They would enjoy many a fine sleigh ride when the winter snows piled high. She would have a fine Quaker gentleman who did not suffer like he did. Oh, but he did wish he no longer suffered in his soul. It would be good to have lasting joy and peace in embracing the Light of God.

  If only he could.

  After dinner Silas returned to his room to begin packing his satchel of meager belongings. He heard a rustling in the hallway and looked out of his room to see Mary standing there, clutching a small cloth bag. She looked lovelier than he’d ever seen her. Maybe it was her hair, which had loosened and fallen around her shoulders, though she still wore the modest white cap atop her head. Or maybe it was the innocent look on her face.

  “There were a few biscuits left over from the meal. I—I thought thee might want them for thy journey.”

  “Thank you.” He took them, and when he did, their hands brushed. And for an instant he had the overwhelming desire to take her lovely form in his arms. He inhaled a quick breath. She would feel so good in his arms, too. Warm and soft and sweet. The fragrant scents from the day’s baking still lingered on her. He would slowly take off her white cap and let his fingers drift through her luxurious brown hair. Her blue eyes would look up into his, so trusting, seeking his protection and his love….

  Silas gulped and turned away, feeling a bit too warm by these thoughts. He expected her to leave. But when he looked back, she was still standing there.

  “Are you really a Quaker, Silas?” Mary caught herself. “I mean, are thee…”

  “Yes, I was. I may still be. I don’t know who I am. Or really, where I stand with God.”

  Mary took a step forward. “There is no need to leave now. Friend Daniel Gray can help,” she added, the eagerness lacing her voice. “He can show thee thy condition, show God’s Light within thee and…”

  “Mary, I know you want to help, but no one can. What I suffer goes too deep for any kind of understanding.”

  “Nothing is too deep that God is not in it.” She drew even closer, and her warmth filled him. They stood but two feet apart. Her blue eyes held no fire as they had in the past but a measure of questioning and even compassion. Her lips appeared moist and inviting. Silas took hold of her arm and led her gently into his embrace. She did not resist. He enjoyed the taste of her fair lips until finally she struggled out of his grasp, her breathing rapid.

  “Please…,” she managed to say, her face flushed like a strawberry. “I—I was trying to help.”

  “Yes, you were. And I was letting you know that you’re a beautiful woman. Did you ever stop to consider there might be better plans for your life than just the small life you live here as a servant in your inn? That we may have been brought together for a reason?”

  She grew rigid, and the compassion that had softened her features rapidly changed to a fire of indignation. “I’m glad to be here. There is nowhere else I wish to be. And…perhaps it is better thee is going away after all.” She began to retreat.

  “As you wish.” He stood his ground, only to see her turn and scurry away. Yet the warmth of the encounter remained, especially the touch of her lips on his. But he must force it away and ready himself for the journey, now marred by another haunting memory.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Oh, why did I ever allow myself to be kissed by him?

  Mary thought about what had happened in the upper hallway, wishing she’d had enough strength to ward off temptation. But Silas Jones crept in when she was most vulnerable to the hurt in his heart. And worst of all, she’d allowed him! She shuddered, wondering if she should confess to the elders her troubled state and ask for their prayer. But if she did, Daniel would know she had kissed another man, and a fallen one of the brethren at that. What would he say? After all, she knew Daniel’s intent was to court her. He would suffer hurt, and he’d already endured so much hurt after the loss of his wife. She couldn’t bring that kind of pain upon him.

  But why was my heart so quick to respond to Silas? Did she find him that appealing, out of all the men God had put in her path? Silas had mocked them. Abandoned the Friends. Then he used the moment when she wanted to help to trap her. The wolf in sheep’s clothing, as she once described him, had swooped down with stolen kisses, looking to take full residence in the confines of her heart. She felt weak in spirit, as if suffering the ravages of a fever. Without direction. Thoughts trapped in a fog. Her only hope was that he’d be gone by dawn, and she could wait upon God to cleanse her and make her whole in mind and emotion. But did she want to be cleansed? Did she really want Silas to be gone forever?

  Mary hurried outside to find her brother handling his new acquisition to the herd—a fine stallion in desperate need of breaking. He looked at her as she approached. “Mary? Why so downcast?”

  Was it that apparent in her features? Mary tried to smile then, but it felt forced. “Oh, it’s nothing, George. Nothing at all.” Nothing that hasty abandonment couldn’t cure. But her lips still tingled from his kiss, and her arms still remembered the warmth of his strong embrace. Dearest Lord, help my feelings.

  “There is something wrong. I can see it.” He strode over to the fence and leaned against it. “Is it Silas?”

  “I…” She hesitated.

  “I know he has feelings for thee. He told me as much.”

  “I—I’m glad he’s leaving,” she blurted. “It will be better for all of us. He’s done little but stir trouble among us. And did thee realize he was once of the Friends’ persuasion but abandoned the Light?”

  George’s eyes widened. “No, I didn’t. But I knew something had happened with regards to the Friends. If only he could find his burden lifted. Perhaps a meeting with Friend Daniel would help.”

  Mary felt her face heat at the suggestion. “No, no, that will never do. The only choice is for him to find the Light for himself. I’ve heard his words.” And felt his lips on mine. And the strength of his arms. She shivered at the memory. “He—he really must go.”

  George looked at her with a strange expression, almost as if he knew what had transpired in the house. She turned quickly, lest her expressions give away anything. George returned to training the young horse with a short pole, giving commands. She thought of the Friends, the beliefs they held to, the ways in which she was to guard her heart and her thoughts, focusing them solely on the one who loved her and held her in His hands. Of the full devotion she must give. Until she saw it all thrust in a whirlwind by the man with deep-set brown eyes and an overpowering will to take hold of her when she least expected it.

  Suddenly she caught sight of a tall figure exiting the house. Silas, carrying a satchel as he walked toward the corral, stopped short when he saw her. He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead went to the door of the barn. Mary edged closer so she could hear the conversation.

  “So thee is truly going,” George remarked to him.

  “Yes, I need to go before the snows get too deep. I want to be settled in Independence, maybe by Christmas if all goes well.”

  “Thee has a long way to travel. Why not stay until spring? Father could use the extra help, I’m sure.”

  Silas glanced in the direction of the house. “I can’t, George. But thank you for inviting me. Your father does have an excellent place. Even if…” He hesitated. “Even if I was not appreciative of it when I first arrived.”

  George smiled. “Thee has seen the Light, Friend Silas.”<
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  “I don’t think so. But maybe I will once I find out where I’m supposed to go.” He entered the barn. Mary waited, watching until Silas returned, leading Barzillai by her bridle. She inhaled a sharp breath as his tall, sturdy figure mounted the mare with his large hands gripping the reins.

  “I pray God will keep thee in thy journey, Friend Silas,” George said, offering a handshake of farewell.

  Silas shook her brother’s hand. He looked at Mary then tipped his hat to her. He appeared strong and commanding on his mount, ready to face whatever the world gave. At that moment it brought him little but disappointment, as he had conveyed to her. But that was not for her or the family to heal. Only Silas could find the healing he needed, through God’s mercy and guidance.

  Just then Mary heard a loud neigh then a thump, followed by a groan. She whirled to find George a crumpled heap on the ground. The horse he had been training nosed him with its muzzle. “George! George, are you all right?” She ran and knelt before him, shaking him. His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged. One look at his contorted lower leg and bloodied trousers told her something terrible had happened. “Oh dearest God!” she cried, the tears burning in her eyes. She looked around to see the dust of Silas’s departure. Or rather a cloud of dust stirring as someone came galloping up in a frenzy.

  “What happened?” It was Silas. Mary had never felt more relieved to see him. He dismounted and hurried to her side, kneeling next to George.

  “I—I don’t know. I was…” I was looking at you, wondering why you were leaving…. She paused. “I didn’t see what happened until I heard a loud noise.” She pointed with a trembling finger. “Look at his leg. It looks terrible!”

  “I’ll go for the doctor. Where is your village?”

  Mary gave him directions to the doctor’s residence with a wavering voice. Then she felt a strong hand take hers and give a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be all right,” he said.

  Mary wiped away the tears so she could see better and composed herself with a few quick breaths. George began to stir then and moan in pain as his hand fumbled for his leg. “Just lie still, George. Silas is going for the doctor. You have broken your leg.”

  “It hurts,” he moaned. “It hurts badly. Oh Mary. Pray…pray for me. Please. Oh.”

  “Yes, yes, I will labor with thee, dear brother. Thee knows I will, with all my heart.” And she did, for many long minutes, thankful to see George calming under the prayerful words.

  Father and Mother came rushing out when they heard the commotion. Even the two visitors who had been inside the house followed. Mary told them all what happened and that Silas had gone for the doctor.

  “We can’t leave George lying in the dirt,” Mother said. “And we have trusted his well-being to some outsider? What if he doesn’t return? He was leaving, after all.”

  “George shouldn’t be moved, Mother. And Silas will return with the doctor. He said he would,” Mary added in confidence.

  Father agreed, and together they tried to make George as comfortable as possible. But the leg wound was grievous, with the white of bone protruding. Mary knew he would be bedridden a long time. The elders and Friends would help in their time of need. They would be all right, she felt certain. If only she didn’t feel so helpless.

  George moaned again and struggled to sit up. He saw his leg, groaned, and looked to heaven. “Why? Why did this happen?”

  Why indeed? Mary thought. No one was more faithful and protective; no one was a better man than her brother. Mary could only stay by his side with the others and wait.

  At last they heard the sounds of horses. Silas arrived, bringing the doctor and, to her surprise, Friend Daniel. Mary wasn’t about to ask how Daniel discovered their misfortune—if Silas had gone to fetch him also. She laid aside her questions with the physician here to tend to George, and Daniel here to give spiritual guidance.

  The men gathered to hoist George up on a litter made from a blanket and take him into the house. They placed him on the bed, where the doctor examined the extent of the injury.

  “Thank thee so much for fetching the doctor,” Mary said softly to Silas, who stood by her side, watching as the doctor cut away the pant leg to expose the open wound. George groaned and shook violently. Mary trembled and turned away. Silas winced also. They looked at each other rather than at what the doctor was doing. Finally Silas stepped outside the room, and Mary followed.

  “This is terrible,” she said, and suddenly the tears came fast and furious.

  “I’m sorry, Mary. Truly I am. George is a fine man. He cared for my horse, and he cares about others. He doesn’t deserve this. I don’t understand the ways of God or why good men must suffer so.”

  She wiped her eyes. “Sometimes it isn’t for us to understand. We have to trust and believe in God’s goodness, no matter what happens.” But little did he know that she, too, struggled with the reason why. And with the terrible pain her brother endured as the doctor worked to fix the leg.

  Mother rushed out then, her face pale. “The doctor says he must try to straighten the leg.” She wrung her hands in despair. “He…he needs men to help hold George down. Silas, will thee help?”

  Silas immediately went inside the room. Mary took Mother into the kitchen area at the back of the house, but even there they could still hear the awful screams. A fresh round of tears came forth as they held each other and murmured prayers. When it was over, they returned to find the doctor had splinted the leg and wrapped it in heavy linen. George lay still, having fainted from the pain and the effects of the laudanum the doctor had given him to ease his suffering.

  The doctor gestured the family to the sitting room. “I will not lie to you. It is a bad break. With an open wound, fever is likely and could be severe. Even if he survives the fever, he could very well be crippled.”

  If he survives? Mary gasped. It was as if the heavens had fallen. She might have collapsed in despair if not for Silas supporting her.

  Chapter 5

  For the next week a cloud of somberness hung over the Hall home. While Mr. Hall insisted they keep the inn running despite George’s accident, the family found themselves further and further behind in their work. Mary and Mrs. Hall ran ragged trying to keep the inn’s guests entertained and well-fed while caring for George. Mr. Hall was away on the supply runs that George normally did and struggled with the upkeep of the house and grounds.

  Silas could hardly turn his back on a family so in need, especially when they had helped both him and Barzillai. He did what he could to help, but he maintained his distance from Mary. Since the kiss, he’d decided to stay away, not wishing to cause her further discomfort. But still, a yearning rose within him to be with her, to hold her, to offer comfort for the trials she was facing, like he had when George was first injured.

  Silas was busy hitching the horses to the supply wagon when Mary came around the side of the house, toting the usual basket filled with the weekly wash. He offered a smile, which she returned.

  “How’s George today?” he asked.

  A frown appeared, and likewise his good cheer disappeared. The news must not be good. “He still has a fever. I don’t know what else to do for him but bear his burden in prayer and give him tea made from herbs.”

  “The fever will break soon,” Silas tried to reassure her, though he didn’t know the future. He’d seen a loved one injured beyond the ability of medicine and even beyond God’s ability to heal, it seemed. He prayed that would not be George’s lot.

  “Where is thee off to today?” she asked.

  He waved a piece of paper. “I have a list of supplies from your father that I need to buy from the store in town.”

  To his surprise, Mary hastily put down the basket of clothes and came forward, her face bright with excitement. “I would very much like to go to town.” She gazed back at the house. “Thee will go and return quickly? I shouldn’t be gone long.”

  “Yes, but doesn’t thee think thee should ask?” He waited, hoping
she would notice his use of the Friends’ language.

  The response was not what he expected. “There is no need.” She climbed into the wagon beside him without asking for help or even inquiring if she might go along. Her boldness surprised him. “I need this trip, and I’m quite able to decide for myself if it’s reasonable. There are no new guests in for the night. George is resting. All that can be done has been done.” She settled herself on the wagon seat, with her hands folded in her lap and her gaze focused directly ahead.

  Silas said nothing further, only flicked the reins and guided the wagon to the rutted dirt road. He’d been careful to keep his distance from the attractive Mary, but all determination to do so melted away with her close proximity and her aroma reminiscent of spring wildflowers. Her bright face and blue eyes reflected the clear sky above. He nearly reached for her hand but kept a firm grip on the reins instead.

  “Ah, such a lovely day for a ride,” she said with a sigh.

  “I’m sure thee had a nice ride with Friend Daniel that one day.” He cringed then, wishing he hadn’t brought up the subject. Now the talk would steer Mary into thinking about the fine Quaker gent.

  “He is kind and wise. But…” She paused. “I would only be in conflict with a memory if we were to court.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “His wife died in childbirth a year ago. I don’t want to be compared to her in matters of marriage. Who she was. What they did together.” Her hands trembled, and she looked off into the distance to the farmlands surrounding their travel. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much about this. It isn’t proper.”

  “Thee has shared thy heart, Mary. If one can’t do that, what good are the brethren? Or the cause of helping one another in times of need?” Despite the joy he felt over her reservations concerning Daniel, Silas was uncertain her words proved the man held no interest in her eyes. Or that a door now lay open to him. She’d shown little interest in him except in his past. They had shared the one kiss, but it might as well have been a kiss farewell, as he’d planned to leave before George’s injury. But things were changing day by day. Could this conversation mean that she did hold some affection for him?