Christmas Under Western Skies

by Anna Schmidt

  “Any mail?” Nathan asked, as he watched Jacob tally his order. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t ask. Jacob would tell him if something came. Everyone in Homestead knew he was hoping for news of his long-lost brother.

  “Over there.” Jacob jerked his head toward a small stack of letters and packages strewn haphazardly over a desktop near the front door of the mercantile. On top of the desk was a hand-lettered sign that read: EMMA PUTNAM, POSTMISTRESS. “We’re always a little shorthanded when Emma is down with one of her headaches. Lucinda helps out after school, but some things just don’t get done. Have a look.”

  Nathan swallowed nervously. He’d been disappointed so many times before. The letters he’d sent and the ads he’d run in newspapers out west had produced nothing. And yet he still hoped.

  He was vaguely aware that Jacob had continued to talk, but his focus was on the mail. Postponing what he assumed might be the inevitable, he started with the packages, but there were only three of them, and in no time at all he was down to the letters. He picked up the stack and sorted through them quickly. Get it over with, he thought, but still his heart hammered with hope.

  A shadow passed the window and he glanced up in time to see Julianne walking across Main Street toward the store. He smiled. Whenever God closed one door, he always opened another, and seeing Julianne Cooper was certainly more than enough to compensate for the absence of a letter.

  He heard the jangle of the bell over the shop door, and started to replace the stack of letters on the desk when he noticed the envelope on top.

  It was addressed to him.

  “Captain, are you all right?” Julianne was at his side, her lovely face turned up as she examined him closely. “Why, you’ve suddenly gone so pale,” she said. “Sit down.” She indicated the desk chair. “Are you feeling faint?”

  He sat, and then grinned at her fanning the envelope between them. “Seems I’ve got some news,” he said softly, indicating, by a glance toward Jacob, who was cutting yardage for two customers, that he wasn’t yet ready to have the entire town privy to that news.

  Julianne moved so that she was blocking him from the view of the others. “Very well, Captain,” she said in a voice just slightly louder than normal conversation. “And the twins as well,” she added, pantomiming that he should open the letter while she covered for him. “Of course, they are beside themselves with excitement about Christmas.”

  Nathan scanned the scrawled note on the single sheet of paper inside the envelope, then handed it to Julianne. He watched her lips move as she read the short note.

  Nathan,

  Not sure how you found me, but find me you have. I cannot wait for you to come out here. There’s work here with the railroad, and once that’s built there’s land we could buy with our wages. Spring can’t come too soon for us, my brother. You head west and watch for the railroad crews building toward the east—I’ll be there. Jake

  “You found him,” she said softly, as she carefully folded the paper and handed it to him. “I’m so happy for you both, Nathan. God has blessed you.”

  It was true, and yet all Nathan felt was confusion. Wasn’t this the news he’d hoped for? Been waiting for all these months? Wasn’t this the dream he and Jake had always shared—the dream of working together, building a future together? Weren’t those the words he had written in his letters home during the war, never realizing that Jake was long gone and had never seen his letters?

  “Nathan?”

  He looked up at Julianne and felt his eyes well with tears. He had gotten his wish without the need of a slice of wishing cake, and yet all he could think as he looked up at her sweet face was I don’t want to leave her.

  “Anything?” Jacob called out as he rang up the last sale and glanced toward Nathan. “Ah, morning, Julianne. Did you bring those jars of apple butter?”

  “I have them in the wagon,” Julianne replied. “I’ll get them.”

  “Let me,” Nathan said, pushing himself to his feet and folding the letter into the pocket of his vest.

  “Any news?” Jacob asked again.

  Nathan hesitated, then patted his pocket. “A letter,” he replied, not wanting to lie to the man who’d become his friend. “I’d like some time to study on it,” he added.

  Jacob nodded. “Understood. And while you’re at it—now that you’ve had news—maybe you’ll do some studying on that offer we discussed?”

  “I will.”

  Julianne followed Nathan from the store. “What offer?”

  “Jacob and the others are asking me to stay on as pastor. They’re planning to build a proper church, and they want a regular minister.”

  “Are you considering it?”

  Was that hope he saw in her eyes, or was it just more of his wishful thinking? “I was,” he admitted, and fingered the edge of the envelope “when there was no word….”

  “But now of course, this changes everything,” Julianne said as she busied herself uncovering the jars of apple butter she’d packed into wooden crates in the back of the wagon. “It’s not really so bad,” she reasoned, not looking at him. “I mean, you can’t head west until the weather breaks, and in the meantime the church elders can seek a regular minister—run ads, as you did. Someone will come. It’s a good opportunity, as is the opportunity your brother has proposed. Work on the railroad must pay well, and think of the farm the two of you could buy together and—”

  Nathan stared at her. Who was this woman, babbling like a creek running free after a thaw? “Come with me,” he blurted the thought that had been uppermost in his mind ever since reading Jake’s letter.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Of course I’m coming. I’m bartering with Jacob—the apple butter in exchange for some Christmas presents for the twins and Glory and Sam.”

  Nathan set down the crate he’d picked up and touched her shoulder. “Not to the store, Julianne. Come with me to California.”

  “How can I?” she whispered hoarsely, and he realized that she was every bit as perplexed by the choice as he was. “I also made a promise, Nathan.”

  “To Luke.”

  “To my husband and our children,” she corrected. “This is our home, Nathan—the only home the twins have really known. After everything they’ve had to endure this last year, I couldn’t…”

  He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that he understood, that he would never ask her to betray a deathbed promise. But they were standing on Main Street, and in spite of the cold weather, people were out—and watching them with curious glances. So he hefted the crate of apple butter to one shoulder and took hold of her elbow with his free hand. “It’s Christmas, Julianne. The season of miracles. How about helping me pick out a gift for the Fosters?”

  Back inside the store, Nathan set the crate of apple butter on the counter. “There’s one more crate,” he told Jacob, and headed back outside.

  Julianne watched him go, wondering as always at his certainty that things could possibly work out for them. Well, she had been the cause of Luke’s break with his family, and she would not come between Nathan and his brother. Jake had been abandoned by his family once, and his letter—however concise the words—had been filled with his delight at having a connection to family once again.

  “How can I be of help, Mrs. Cooper?”

  Julianne turned to face Jacob. The older man was always more formal when cast in the role of shopkeeper serving a customer. She pulled a list from her pocket and handed it to him.

  “Ah, the ingredients for your wishing cake?”

  Julianne nodded. “And I’ll need two of those peppermint sticks for the twins,” she said, as she focused her attention on the jars of candy that lined the shelf behind the counter. She selected some tobacco for Sam’s pipe and a china teapot for Glory, all before Nathan returned with the second crate of apple butter. “Will there be enough to cover all this?” she asked, suddenly aware that she had yet to select an actual gift for the twins—or for Nathan.

&nb
sp; “And then some,” Jacob assured her as he inventoried the jars and began setting them on a shelf.

  Nathan fingered the floral-patterned teapot. “For Glory?”

  “Yes. Her favorite teapot was broken when one of the axles on their wagon split on the trip out here. She’s never said a word, but every time we come to the store I notice she looks to see if this one is still here.”

  “What if I gave her the cups and saucers to match?” Nathan asked. “Or maybe not. Maybe that’s too—”

  “I think she would like that very much.”

  “I’ll need something for Sam.”

  “He broke the tip on his pocketknife a while back,” Jacob said, as he indicated a tray of pocketknives below the glass cover of the counter. “Now, what about those children, Mrs. Cooper? Surely you’ll need something beyond the peppermint sticks.”

  “I was thinking perhaps some paints and brushes for Laura.”

  Jacob retrieved the items from a shelf near the back of the store. “And young Master Luke?”

  Julianne was at a loss. Her son was growing up so fast—both of the children were. She spotted a wooden rocking horse, but Luke was already too big for such a toy, even though his wish had been for a horse of his own.

  “How about a hat?” Nathan said, as if reading her mind. “It’s not a horse, but it’s a start.”

  “I have just the thing,” Jacob said, reaching onto a high shelf for a hatbox printed with a single word: “Stetson”. “Young fella by the name of Stetson, from Philadelphia, lived out west of here and came up with an idea for a hat. He went back east and started his own business, but the dandies back there aren’t too keen on his design. I picked up half a dozen for next to nothing when Mrs. Putnam and I traveled back east to see family last summer.”

  He blew the dust off the box cover and pulled it open. “I think this might just be small enough for Luke.” He held up a tan felt hat with a high crown and a wide brim. “Waterproof inside and out,” he said, “in case Luke finds himself in need of water, with no bucket handy.” He made the motion of dipping water from a stream.

  “It’s dandy,” Nathan said, taking the hat from Jacob and perching it on his head.

  He looked so ridiculous that Julianne laughed.

  “I’m pretty sure I have one in your size as well.” Jacob scanned the row of hat boxes.

  “Nope. My old one will do me fine,” Nathan told him.

  “Try it on,” Julianne urged. “It will help me imagine what Luke might look like.”

  Nathan shrugged and accepted the hatbox from Jacob.

  He pulled out a black version of the wide-brimmed hat and put it on. “I like it,” he admitted, adjusting the brim so that the hat fit snugly over his forehead. “Maybe when spring comes.” He reluctantly removed the hat and returned it to the box. He turned back to the teacups. “Could you add a couple of those to my tally?”

  While Jacob added up the bill, Julianne tried to think of some gift she might choose for Nathan. She looked over the merchant’s wares, commenting on this and that and getting absolutely no reaction from the man. She wanted so much to give him something, but she knew that the price of a hat for him, as well as Luke, would be too dear.

  “Thanks, Jacob,” Nathan said, as he collected his packages, the contents of which were disguised by brown wrapping paper. “Merry Christmas to you and your family.”

  “And to you,” Jacob replied absently, as he gave his attention to wrapping Julianne’s purchases.

  “Has the captain ever admired anything in particular?” she asked.

  Jacob paused in his wrapping and ran one hand over his whiskers. “Not that I can recall. Any time he comes in, it’s been to check if there’s mail or to get something for the Foster place—or yours. He did seem to like that hat.”

  “I can’t afford two hats, Mr. Putnam.”

  Jacob considered the hat. “It looked mighty fine on him. Maybe the church elders would agree to give it to him as a token of our appreciation for all he’s done since coming here.” He winked at Julianne. “You never know. That might just be enough to get him to stay on.” He returned to his wrapping. “He’d stay if you asked him,” he said after a long moment. “We’d have a full-time preacher and the twins would have a father again.”

  “Oh, Jacob, that’s hardly reason enough to marry. Besides, what would Emma say? She’s been trying to match him with Lucinda since he arrived.”

  “He’s not right for my girl.”

  “Besides,” Julianne continued, “he’s finally located his brother. It would be selfish of us to want him to stay, when all along his goal has been to be reunited with Jake.”

  The shopkeeper handed her the parcels and came around the counter to hold the door open for her. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You know I am. Why, the man has been here only a matter of weeks. We can hardly expect him to change his plans, simply because he’s made such an impression on this community. No, we’ve been given a gift—the gift of having him here for a few months.”

  “I suppose,” Jacob agreed.

  But on the drive back to her homestead, Julianne could not help but dwell on Jacob’s words. “He’d stay if you asked him.”

  Would he?

  “You’re being as silly as a lovestruck girl,” she admonished herself aloud. “Nathan is attracted to you, but it’s different for a man. Men don’t fall in love as easily as women do.” As easily as I have, she thought and she sat upright, tugging on the reins so hard that Dusty stopped in his tracks.

  She couldn’t be in love with the man, could she? She’d only known him such a short time, and on the heels of Luke’s passing at that. No, surely it was his kindness to the children, the way he had helped Glory and Sam, the ministry he had offered the community as a whole. She admired him, and she couldn’t deny that he had eased her grief with his sunny disposition and the way he had a habit of turning up whenever she needed help or was feeling down.

  Surely, that was all there was to it. It was part of the passage of mourning, part of the path into widowhood, she assured herself. And yet, when she closed her eyes each night, the last thought she had was of Nathan’s kiss, his arms—strong and sure—embracing her, and that smile that seemed to say everything would work out.

  Chapter Ten

  On the morning of Christmas Eve, Nathan and Sam stopped by to pick up Luke so the three of them could go in search of a wild turkey for Glory to cook for their Christmas dinner. Glory came with them, intent on spending the morning with Laura and Julianne preparing pies, corn bread stuffing and spoon bread to serve at their Christmas dinner.

  “And don’t forget that wishing cake,” Nathan called, as he snapped the reins and Sam’s team of horses took off.

  “Don’t let Luke fire your rifle,” Julianne shouted back.

  And as the horses and wagon disappeared over the rise, she heard Luke’s mournful “Oh, Ma,” and she laughed.

  “Good to hear you laughing again,” Glory said, wrapping her arm around Julianne’s shoulders. “Love heals all sorrows, that’s certain. Big Luke would be happy for you.”

  Glory and Sam had taken to calling Julianne’s late husband “Big Luke” and her son “Little Luke” on the trail out to the territories. The names had stuck.

  “Now, Glory, don’t you start. Nathan Cook is just a good friend to all of us. That’s all.”

  “Um-huh,” Glory sighed. “And next you’ll be telling me that tomorrow isn’t Christmas Day,” she muttered.

  The men returned in record time, their laughter and excited voices preceding them on the cold afternoon air.

  “We got one,” Luke crowed as he held up their bounty for all to see. “I spotted him and Mr. Foster got off the first shot.”

  “I can see that it’s a beauty,” Julianne called, trying hard not to meet Nathan’s grin or notice his cheeks red with the cold and excitement for her son.

  As always, he filled the small room, not because of his size, but because, with him s
o near, she couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything.

  “You planning to bake those biscuits or scorch them,” Glory asked with a nudge and a nod toward the pan of dough Julianne had absently set on the hot stovetop.

  “Where’s that mind of yours—as if I couldn’t guess?” The older woman chuckled with delight and turned to thrust a wooden spoon filled with cornbread stuffing at Nathan. “Taste this.”

  “Just like home,” he said. “Better.”

  “Julianne’s a good cook.”

  Blushing furiously and hoping everyone would assume the heat from the fire was the cause, Julianne wiped her hands on her apron and looked around the room. “You know, children, it seems to me this room is missing something.”

  “The tree,” Laura shouted, and Luke echoed her cry. “We have to put it together,” they explained in unison to Glory and Sam. “It’s going to be the most beautiful tree ever, and we have one for you as well,” she confided in a whisper to Glory.

  “Put a tree together?” Sam tapped out his old corncob pipe on the hearth. “Where is this tree?”

  With the twins leading the way, Nathan and Sam followed them out to the lean-to where they’d stored the two handmade trees. Alone with Glory inside the cabin, Julianne decided to share Nathan’s news with her friend.

  “Nathan heard from his brother. There was a letter at the mercantile. Jake works for the railroad company, and right now he’s living in a camp, waiting for the weather to break so they can continue laying track.”

  “They’re coming west to east then?” Glory continued kneading dough.

  “Yes.”

  “Then knowing his brother is alive and working, Nathan could stay here and wait for Jake to come this way.”