Christmas on the Prairie

by Frances Devine

  “I don’t know. I thought I was just being silly. Why don’t you find out from Mr. Bledstoe where the telegram came from?”

  “I intend to. In the meantime, will you please be careful around him? Until we know for sure, don’t allow him to escort you anywhere.”

  “You’re asking me this time instead of ordering?” Ansley’s smile softened her words.

  “I’m not just asking, I’m begging, Ansley. If Mitch is the sort of man I believe him to be, he’s not only a common thief, but a dangerous one.”

  Ansley nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Relief coursed through him. It was all Seth could do to keep from grabbing her and pulling her close. If only he didn’t have to leave. He would definitely feel much better if he could be there to protect her.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Seth nodded, knowing she was saying good-night. “I’ll be here early.”

  Reluctantly he walked away, glad that at least Mitch Lane would have no opportunity between now and the morning to do any harm.

  Chapter 17

  Ansley couldn’t breathe. She awakened suddenly, her eyes opening to the blackness of her bedroom. Then she realized a dark figure was standing over her, his hand covering her mouth. “Shh. Don’t force me to wake the girls.” Slowly, he took his hand away.

  Fear licked at her belly. “Mitch,” she whispered.

  He tossed her dressing gown from the bottom of the bed and turned around. “Don’t try anything.”

  “What do you want?” She quickly slipped the gown over her nightdress, painfully aware that no man had ever seen her in such scanty attire.

  Mitch’s fingers dug into her arm as he reached out and grabbed her. He led her quickly through the door, down the steps and into the kitchen. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?”

  “Ansley, don’t play ignorant. I haven’t the time nor the patience for it.”

  Ansley shook her head as she stared at him, lit as he was only by the moon glinting off the snow. “So it was you, after all.”

  “Yes, and as soon as your dear Seth confirms with Bledstoe that I never received a telegram, I’ll be asked to answer a lot of questions I don’t want to answer. It would be much better for me if I’m long gone before that happens.”

  Ansley peered closer at him. He no longer wore his fancy suit. Instead, he was dressed in denim trousers, a wool shirt and a coat. Dress so common, her memory finally conjured him.

  “You worked at the shop where I ordered my trunks!”

  “Finally remembered me?” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “I’m surprised a society woman even bothered to look at my face.”

  “I saw you twice. Once at the shop and again when you delivered the trunks to me.” She narrowed her gaze. “You came all the way from Boston?”

  “You’re not extremely smart, Ansley. The day I brought your trunks to you, all the pieces of jewelry and the other things you were bringing with you were just sitting out on the table. And as you were paying me for my delivery, you stopped your maid and asked her to look for the false bottoms of the trunks and place those things inside. I planned to steal them along the way, but first the train kept the luggage guarded too well. And then the stagecoach driver wouldn’t allow you to weigh down the coach with the trunks.”

  “And the day Seth found you with them?”

  “Well, if he’d been ten minutes later, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Fury lit inside of Ansley. “So you played on my affections, to what end? Did you intend to marry me for my money?”

  “Well, that wouldn’t have been my first choice.” He gave a sardonic smile. “You’re a bit long in the tooth for a bride.”

  Ansley’s cheeks flooded with heat as humiliation spread through her chest.

  “Not that you aren’t still a very beautiful woman. You are. But if I were to marry, of course it would be to someone much younger, without such an independent streak.”

  “I wouldn’t marry you, anyway.” It was a childish thing to say, but Ansley didn’t care. Mitch’s chuckle only increased her rage.

  “What have you done with the clock and jewels, Ansley?”

  “You went to the trouble of procuring a position with Mr. Carson and following me all this way just for a few jewels and a clock?”

  “The position with Mr. Carson was a lucky break. His son was on the stage, remember? Otherwise, I’d have never known the old man was looking for a hired gun. Anyway, I meant to steal them much sooner. But your Seth revealed my hand on the road that day. So I was forced to trifle with your affections. I truly regret the necessity of that.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Lane. I was never all that interested.”

  “Be that as it may, you’ve learned all my secrets. I must be going soon, so if we can move this along, I’d like to collect my things and go.”

  “Your things? You mean my things. You’re nothing but a thief, and I can’t believe I ever defended you to Seth.”

  “Well, perhaps you’ll be wiser next time.”

  Next time? Ansley nearly sighed in relief. Did this mean he didn’t intend to kill her? So far, he hadn’t threatened her with bodily harm and he hadn’t drawn his pistol.

  “Enough stalling, Ansley. Where are they?”

  His voice had grown impatient and she knew she had no choice. Her mind went to the jewels she and Rose had grown up admiring, the clock and candelabras that had been their mother’s—a gift from their father the day they had wed. The jewels, she wouldn’t miss so much. After all, she certainly hadn’t been the one to wear them. But the clock and candlesticks had sentimental value. “They’re in Mrs. Boatwright’s safe.”

  “And that would be located where?”

  Ansley hesitated. She knew she was the only person Mrs. Boatwright had trusted with the safe and combination since her own sister had gone on to be with Jesus. “In the library.”

  He took hold of her arm again. “Let’s go.”

  The embers of last night’s fire still glowed, but they certainly didn’t provide enough light for Ansley to see the numbers on the safe. She turned to him. “I’ll need a light.”

  He nodded and reached for a candle on the mantel. “This will have to do. I’m not lighting a lamp.”

  “I’ll also need that stool to stand on.” She was taller than most women, but she was still not tall enough to accomplish this horrid task without a lift. He set the small stool next to her and offered his hand to help her up. Ansley glanced at the hand and jerked her head, using the mantel to steady herself. She reached above the fireplace and removed the large painting that covered the wall safe. She handed the painting to Mitch.

  Mitch released a soft laugh as he took it and set it against the bricks. “I should have known.”

  It didn’t take Ansley long to open the safe. Her stomach sank as she slowly pulled out the bags of jewelry and handed them to the thief. “Now the clock and candelabras,” he ordered.

  Ansley did as he instructed and then started to close the safe.

  “Wait.” Mitch grinned at her. “I’m sure a woman such as Mrs. Boatwright has something inside there that might interest a man like me.”

  “A low-down thief, you mean? An outlaw? A good-for-nothing...”

  “I get your meaning, Ansley. Just empty the safe.”

  Ansley stepped down from the stool and folded her arms. “I will not assist you in robbing Mrs. Boatwright.”

  He scowled. He set the candleholder on the table next to his spoils and moved forward, reaching into the safe. Candlelight flickered off the shiny, heavy gold clock. Ansley saw her next movement an instant before she acted. Without giving herself an opportunity to change her mind, she snatched up the clock with both hands, raised it high and bro
ught it down on the back of Mitch’s neck. He turned and she gasped. “You little...”

  She hit him again, this time across the side of his head, and he dropped to the floor, unconscious. Praying she hadn’t killed him, Ansley grabbed the key from the desk in the library and hurried out the door. She heard him moan just as she closed the doors and turned the lock to keep him inside until she could alert the sheriff.

  Hurrying upstairs, she knocked on Mrs. Boatwright’s door. The old woman answered, her thick silver braid slung across one shoulder. “Ansley. What on earth?”

  Ansley quickly explained what had happened, and then hurried to her room to dress. Thankfully, the girls slept on as she left the room, carefully closing the door after her, and slipped out into the cold night. It wouldn’t take long for Mitch to wake up and shoot the lock on the library door. Deciding it would take longer to saddle Bella than to trudge through the foot of snow on the ground, she crossed the street and hurried as fast as she could toward the sheriff’s office. She was not altogether sure whether he slept there or closed the office at night. She was shivering and wet from her knees down by the time she tried the door, and gratefully she found it open. The sheriff sat up instantly in his cot in one of the cells, pistol drawn.

  Ansley quickly told him what had happened. He shrugged into his coat, clamped his hat down on his head and walked her back to the boardinghouse. They found Mrs. Boatwright and Alice in the library, the door busted through as Ansley had feared could happen. Mitch was long gone.

  “Don’t worry,” the sheriff said. “He can’t hide his footprints in this snow. Just pray the sky stays clear.”

  * * *

  The girls ran down the steps as soon as Seth walked into the foyer of the boardinghouse Christmas morning. And while the girls were glowing with excitement, one look at Ansley told Seth she hadn’t slept the night before. He frowned as he walked through the foyer and noted the library door in splinters. “What happened?”

  Casting a cautious glance toward the girls, Ansley shook her head and then smiled at their nieces. “Girls, Mrs. King has breakfast for you in the dining room. But hurry now, so we can get to the cabin.”

  As the children left through the doorway to the kitchen, Seth turned back to Ansley. They walked together into the library. “Mitch broke in last night.”

  Mrs. Boatwright entered the library. “He would have gotten away with a lot more if Ansley here hadn’t knocked him over the head with that clock.”

  Ansley’s face flushed. “He still got away.”

  “Only with what he could stuff in his pockets. He had to leave most of the jewelry and the bigger items.”

  Seth stared from one woman to the other until his gaze rested on Ansley. “Start at the beginning.”

  Ire surged through him as he realized Mitch had entered Ansley’s bedroom and forced her to open the safe, but it was replaced with pride at her bravery. “You haven’t heard from the sheriff since last night?”

  “No. But he doesn’t think Mitch will be able to get away, with his tracks so easy to read in this snow.”

  “I suppose I should go out and help him find Mitch.” As a matter of fact, the more help the sheriff had, the greater chance the thief would be brought to justice without delay. Once that happened, Seth could stop worrying about Ansley.

  “If that’s what you think is best,” Ansley said with unusual compliance. “The children will be disappointed.”

  Seth knew she was right. This Christmas, more than any other, meant a great deal to the children. It was their first without their parents and their first with their new aunt. He couldn’t disappoint them. He would have to put his trust in God and the sheriff.

  While the girls ate their breakfasts, Ansley returned upstairs to pack up their things and collect the children’s gifts. Mrs. Boatwright motioned him toward a chair and he sat. “You know I don’t generally like to meddle in matters that aren’t my business.”

  Seth tensed. When a person started a conversation with those words, it was pretty obvious she was, indeed, about to meddle.

  “Are you going to let that girl get away?”

  “Now, Mrs. Boatwright.”

  “Far be it from me to criticize, but if you let her go back to Boston, I think you’ll be making a big mistake.”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it, ma’am.” Seth glanced at the door. Where was Ansley?

  She scowled at him and stood up. “Fine, play dumb and lose her.” With that she left the library without looking back.

  Moments later, Seth bundled the girls into the sleigh and helped Ansley into the back. Then they headed out of town, sliding through the snow.

  Ansley turned to him. “You don’t think Mitch would come back for the rest of the things in that safe, do you?”

  “You mean he was biding his time until you and I left and the sheriff was off somewhere looking for him?”

  “It seems reasonable.” Her eyes were clouded over with worry and Seth felt a growing concern that she was most likely right.

  “I’m turning around.”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “The children.”

  Seth nudged the horses to a faster pace and pulled up to the cabin a few minutes later. He and Ansley helped the girls inside and he quickly explained the circumstances to Teddy. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Ansley followed. “I’m going with you.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she raised her hand. “Don’t even try to stop me.”

  They raced back to town and arrived just in time to see Mitch, bag in hand, hopping on his horse. “Go after him!” Ansley’s voice carried across the stillness of the snow-covered town and Mitch turned. He tried to urge his horse to go faster, but the snow was too deep. In the sleigh, they easily caught up to him. Seth tossed Ansley the reins and stood as they came alongside the thief. He jumped, knocking Mitch from his horse, and the two men tumbled into the snow. Seth made short work of the ensuing struggle. Pulling the string out of the bag of stolen items, Seth bound Mitch’s hands behind his back.

  While Ansley hurried back to the boardinghouse to check on Mrs. Boatwright and the other women and children, Seth hustled Mitch to the sheriff’s office. As they walked in the door, the sheriff said, “I was just about to head back out to look for him. Glad I’ll be able to spend Christmas with the wife, after all.”

  Seth turned the man over and watched with satisfaction as the sheriff shoved him into a cell and closed the door with a resounding clang.

  Mitch released a short laugh. “What made you decide to come back to the boardinghouse?” he asked.

  “Ansley. She figured you might try to come back for the rest of her belongings after we were gone.”

  He shook his head. “She’s a smart one. Strong, too.” He touched the long bruise at the side of his face. “After you marry her, don’t cross her.”

  Seth scowled. First Mrs. Boatwright, now this inconsequential thief? “She’s going back to Boston in a week. Unwed.”

  Mitch grinned and stretched out on the cot. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter 18

  Much to Ansley’s relief, Mitch had harmed no one within the boardinghouse. But Mrs. Boatwright was fit to be tied. “Imagine that man coming here twice to rob us. I hope Seth Dobson hurt him well and good.”

  “It wasn’t much of a fight.” Ansley couldn’t help but catch Alice’s eye. She grinned. “Apparently Mitch isn’t too fearsome unless you’re a woman.”

  Mrs. Boatwright gave an indelicate snort. “You got the best of him. I never much cared for a man who couldn’t take care of himself.” She angled a sly gaze at Ansley. “Seth is one of the good ones. A real man.”

  Ansley captured her in a quick hug. “You’ll get no argument from me on that.”

  “Then don’t go back to Bo
ston.”

  “I have to. It’s my home.”

  “Seems to me you have children and a man who loves you right here.”

  Shocked, Ansley laughed. “Mrs. Boatwright! I admit we have stopped butting heads over the children, but Seth has never said one word to me of love.”

  “Hogwash. Men don’t love in word—they love in deed. And he’s proven he cares for you.”

  The bell above the front door jangled, signaling Seth’s return. Ansley silently implored Mrs. Boatwright not to say any more.

  A few minutes later, Seth and Ansley waved good-bye from the sleigh. Seth flicked the reins, nudging the horses forward. “I so wish Alice had heard from her husband before Christmas, as she had expected.”

  “There’s been no word?” Seth asked.

  “He responded to the telegram I sent when the baby was born, but there’s been nothing since.”

  “Well, Mrs. Boatwright will take good care of them until he comes.” He paused and they rode along in silence for a few minutes until he let out a laugh. “You know, that Mrs. Boatwright is a good woman, but she actually told me I should not let you go back to Boston. Seemed to think we should just get married.”

  Ansley’s stomach dipped at his words. “That’s...so silly. She told me essentially the same thing.”

  Turning her head, she watched the snow-covered trees racing by. Of course it was silly. Silly to think a man like this—a real man, one of the good ones—could possibly love her so much he didn’t want her to leave.

  Awkward silence carried them along the path until they reached the cabin. From within, the sound of Rose’s piano carried to where they had stopped in the snow. When Seth made no move to get out of the sleigh, Ansley turned to find him watching her.

  “Do you think it’s silly?” he asked.

  “Well, of course.”

  With a nod, he wrapped the reins and hopped down. As Ansley stepped from the sleigh, he took her hand and kept hold of it. Ansley searched his face. “Don’t you?”

  Seth walked her toward the house and up onto the porch, but he stopped short before going inside. “You know, Miss Potter. We never had that dance together last night.”