Christmas Under Western Skies

by Anna Schmidt

It suited him just fine. He needed time alone. He headed for the barn.

  He must finish her gift tonight. He slapped his hat on his thigh. His gift would convince her they could make memories based on something besides love.

  He hunkered down on the wooden seat in the corner of the barn and set to work.

  Jesus loves you.

  Where had that come from?

  The words came again. Jesus loves you.

  Even when things go wrong?

  He sat up and stared in the distance, seeing nothing. His heart waited. His thought stalled. A thousand bits and pieces flooded his brain. Jesus becoming flesh and being born a baby. Jesus coming to the world He made and being rejected. Jesus dying on the cross.

  Jesus loves you.

  Even though it cost Him His life, Jesus loved him.

  He wiped away tears he didn’t know he cried until they dripped from his chin.

  How did God feel when He sent His son to earth, knowing He would endure such horrible things? What a sacrifice it had been for the Father. All to give salvation, hope and an answer to fears. What a shame if people ignored the gift.

  What a waste if he refused to let love into his heart.

  He breathed deeply. Lord, forgive my anger at You. Thank You for sparing Kathy. I give You my future to hold in Your hands of love.

  The cracks in his heart mended, and he could look at the truth: he loved Winnie so much it scared him.

  Dare he let her into his heart? Risk loving and losing?

  Feeling he couldn’t protect those he loves?

  Could he choose to trust God and accept the gifts sent his way. Like Kathy, Uncle Mac and—

  Winnie?

  He smiled. He might be a fool at times, but he wasn’t a big enough one to throw away the chance to love Winnie.

  All he had to do was find a way to convince her.

  He returned to work on his project. Please God, I know I don’t have the right to ask favors after I’ve been so stubborn and prideful, but help me tell her how much I love her and let her be willing to make a marriage between us work.

  He finished his original project and added one more thing. Then he went in for supper.

  The house was warm and friendly. Kathy and Beau raced over to greet him. Uncle Mac looked up from the table where he was writing something on a piece of paper and nodded.

  Winnie waited for him to look at her, and then smiled, tentatively, as if she expected him to still be angry. When her eyes grew wide, he knew he hadn’t been able to hide how he felt.

  Now for a chance to explain. Perhaps once the others went to bed, but no one wanted to go to bed early.

  Winnie popped corn and they gathered around the tree.

  Kathy wanted to sing the Christmas songs she remembered their mama singing. Derek’s heart softened at the memories. It was sweet to have good things in his past.

  Better yet to anticipate good things in the future.

  They finished singing and grew silent.

  Kathy lay on the floor, her head cradled against Beau.

  Derek leaned over to look closely. “She’s fallen asleep. I’ll take her to bed.”

  “I’m ready to hit the hay myself.” Uncle Mac stretched and yawned.

  Derek hesitated. He did not want Winnie to leave before he got back. “Wait for me?”

  She nodded. He couldn’t make out her expression well enough in the dim light to know if the idea frightened or appealed.

  He hoped she would think it the latter by the time he finished.

  Kathy barely stirred as he slipped her dress off, eased her nightgown over her head and pulled the covers to her chin.

  He paused at her doorway to calm his nerves. Now that he had admitted he loved Winnie, he realized how much he had to lose if she didn’t return his feelings.

  But he would not let fear deprive him of this opportunity.

  He stepped into the main room. Ensconced in the wooden rocker, she turned and gave a tentative smile.

  “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed a lantern and trotted to the barn to grab his gift.

  Returning, he burst into the house and forced himself to slow down. Suddenly he didn’t know how he was going to present the gift, what words would express his heart.

  She waited, watching him.

  He had to do something, say something. “I made this for you.” He placed the present in her lap.

  He felt awkward towering above her, forcing her to tip her head to look at him, so he squatted at her knees. “Unwrap it.”

  She folded back the towel he’d covered it with.

  “A box.”

  “A memory box.” He tipped the lid toward her so she could read the words. “Winnie’s Memories.”

  “I remember you saying how we should keep the old memories and add new ones, or something like that.”

  She stroked the wood he had sanded and polished to a fine patina. “It’s lovely. Thank you. I have something for you, too.”

  But he held both arms of the chair and trapped her in place. “There’s more. Open the box.”

  She lifted the lid and pulled out a carved wooden heart.

  He swallowed hard as he sought for the right words. “It’s my heart.” He plucked it from her palm. “I give you my heart.” He pressed it back into her hand and curled her fingers around it. “I love you with my whole heart. I want to marry you because I love you and want to share my life with you.”

  The seconds ticked by. She shifted her gaze back and forth from her hand clutching the heart to his eyes. He couldn’t read her thoughts. But if he had to guess, he would venture to say he’d frightened her.

  “I hope you’ll learn to love me. I’m willing to wait for that day. In fact, I want to marry you, love you and take care of you for the rest of my life, even if you never return my love.” She nodded.

  He pulled her to her feet, keeping her within the circle of his arms. “There is no pressure. My love is free. No obligation.” He wanted to kiss her, but he wanted her to know he would not take advantage of her in any way. “Now, off to bed, and I’ll see you Christmas morning.”

  “Your present—”

  “Give it to me then.”

  There was only one Christmas present he wanted.

  He loved her.

  Winnie stared into the darkness.

  No one ever loved her before. No one except God.

  Others had said they did. She recalled her mother saying it and then giving her away. Her aunt and uncle had never spoken actual words of love, but said how precious she was. “A gift from God.” Until their own babies came. The others hadn’t pretended to love her. She wouldn’t have believed them if they said they did.

  She didn’t trust the words. Far easier to live pretending love didn’t exist.

  She clutched the wooden heart to her chest.

  I give you my heart.

  She shook but not from cold. From nerves.

  Could she trust love?

  Lord, this is everything I’ve ever wanted, but I am so afraid it isn’t real. Or it might not last. Please send me an answer so I know what to do. What to say.

  Derek said he was willing to accept a marriage without her love, but it wasn’t that she didn’t love him.

  She was afraid if she spoke the words aloud the dream would vanish.

  How can I be sure it won’t?

  Her thoughts circled endlessly.

  She focused on the season. Christmas.

  Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will toward men.

  Jesus—God in flesh. A gift. To bring us peace. Peace with God. The peace of God.

  The words mocked her. She had no peace.

  Trust in God.

  She did trust God. She had most of her life.

  But you don’t trust God to be able to work through others. You want only to let Him into your heart.

  She had good reason to distrust people.

  But if she wanted the one thing she needed—love and belonging—she had to t
rust God would keep both her and Derek in the palm of His hand.

  Was that too much to trust Him for?

  She knew the answer to her question. Peace descended and sleep finally claimed her.

  She woke to Kathy calling, “It’s Christmas morning!

  Get up, everyone, so we can open gifts. Hey, where are the gifts?”

  The adults had decided not to place them under the tree until morning so as not to tempt Beau to explore.

  Winnie dressed hurriedly, as anxious for the day as Kathy, but for an entirely different reason. Scooping up her parcels, she hurried from her room. Uncle Mac and Derek stepped from theirs at the same time, both with arms full as well.

  “Merry Christmas,” they said in unison.

  Winnie laughed. She suspected her eyes overflowed with joy for the day.

  “Hurry, hurry,” Kathy called.

  Laughing, the three of them hurried to the tree and deposited the gifts. Already the smell of the turkey cooking filled the room. She was glad she’d put it in the oven the night before. The aroma made Christmas more real.

  Beau caught Kathy’s excitement and tore around the room yapping. Derek caught him and held him to calm him.

  “Can I open a gift now?”

  Everyone agree Kathy should go first. She opened the biggest one, which was from Uncle Mac—a nice bed with a little mattress for Beau.

  The next one was from Derek. She folded back the paper to find a real drawing book with thick, smooth pages. “Ohh, I can hardly wait to draw in it.”

  Then she took the gift Winnie handed her. She unwrapped a rag doll complete with cherry-red cheeks and black braids, her dress of the same material as Kathy’s new dress. “I love her! Thank you.” She hugged each of the adults.

  “I made everyone something.” She passed them each a gift. They opened up drawings. She had not drawn stick figures. In fact, her drawings were quite good.

  Derek’s showed him riding his horse. Uncle Mac leaned against a fence before the barn. Winnie stood in front of the house, the mountains rising behind it. She looked like she was welcoming someone home. Kathy had titled it “Home, Sweet Home.”

  “How lovely. I’ll find a nice frame and hang it where I can see it every day. In fact, we’ll frame all three of them.”

  The men had gifts for each other—a new lariat for Derek, a new belt for Uncle Mac.

  Uncle Mac gave Winnie a nice serving tray.

  She gave Uncle Mac his gift from her. He displayed his new shirt proudly.

  The last gift was for Derek. He pulled out a shirt. “It’s fine. Really fine.” She hoped he was pleased.

  “Try it on.”

  He shook the folds out and a small package fell to his lap. He opened it. Her aunt had given her the small hanging that Winnie had carried with her since she left her uncle’s house. The edges were dog-eared, and stained where she had pressed her finger to it many times. “I’m sorry it’s not new.”

  He read the words aloud. “‘Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.’ Song of Solomon, eight, verse seven.”

  “All my life I have hoped and prayed for that kind of love. I have found it here. Thank you.” She meant to include them all, but couldn’t tear her gaze from Derek’s dark eyes.

  Uncle Mac cleared his throat and pushed to his feet. “Kathy, I think Beau needs to go for a walk.”

  Winnie barely noticed the pair leave the house, with Beau tearing out the door ahead of them.

  Derek slowly rose and stood before her. He pulled her to her feet and held her shoulders. “Winnie, do you mean to say you love me?”

  “I certainly do. I’ve known for a while, but feared to trust it.”

  “No more fears?”

  “God has given me what I always wanted. I’d be foolish to throw away such a wonderful gift.”

  Derek sought her gaze hungrily. She knew he waited to hear the words—the same words that had melted the resistance in her heart. “I love you, Derek Adams. I will gladly share your life, help raise your little sister and build a solid home here in the west.”

  He still kept her at arm’s length. “Winnie, I promise to love and protect you always. You and any children God blesses our union with. You have completed my life and given me real happiness.”

  He finally pulled her close and she lifted her face to meet his kiss, giving her whole heart into their promise.

  Dear Reader,

  In an earlier book, The Path To Her Heart, I mentioned the tragedy of children taken from families against their will. It got me to thinking of children who suffered even worse—given away by parents because of economic or health restrictions. Thus Winnie was born. Okay, created. I wanted to tell her story but to set it in a positive light. What better way than to give her Christmas?

  I love the simple message of Christmas—God’s love sent to us in the form of a baby. Yet so often I miss the simplicity of the message as I add commercialism, consumerism and other-isms. Writing this story was a joy because my characters brought me back to the true meaning of the season. Wouldn’t it be great if all of us could get down to the basics of love and joy this Christmas? I pray that will be the case in my family and yours.

  I like to hear from readers. Contact me through email at linda@lindaford.org or lindaford@airenet.com. Feel free to check on updates and bits about my research at my website www.lindaford.org.

  God bless,

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  Winnie has known rejection. How has it shaped her character? What word or words would you use to describe her?

  Winnie is on her way to Banff to work in a sanitorium. Why does she feel this is the solution for her problems? Do you agree with her?

  When she first meets Derek, she is not thinking romance and yet something about the man appeals to her. What is his appeal?

  Derek is father and mother to Kathy. How is he doing at the job? How does he think he is doing?

  Derek’s faith has been sorely tested by the events leading up to the story. What has his reaction been?

  Christmas reminds both Winnie and Derek of some important truths. What are they, and how does each character apply it to his/her life?

  God’s love healed their hearts. Do you have a hurt that needs God’s love and healing? God is offering it to you today just as He was ready to pour it into Derek and Winnie’s life. What truth do you need to grasp?

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7662-2

  CHRISTMAS UNDER WESTERN SKIES

  Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  A PRAIRIE FAMILY CHRISTMAS

  Copyright © 2010 by Jo Horne Schmidt

  A COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS

  Copyright © 2010 by Linda Ford

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.SteepleHill.com

 

 

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