Married by Christmas

by Karen Kirst

  Forcing herself to look at him, she wasn’t surprised when she was unable to read his mood. He’d had plenty of practice masking his emotions. “We can’t give them that kind of power over our lives, Caleb. Neither of us wants this. Amy is my responsibility. I’ll see to it that she isn’t hurt.”

  “That’s just it, Becca. I’m not sure you can prevent it.”

  * * *

  Caleb left that afternoon.

  As soon as they informed the reverend of their decision, he offered to fetch Nathan to move Caleb to their parents’ home. Given the steely determination in the older man’s gaze, it wasn’t an offer so much as an order. Their resistance clearly irked him.

  Caleb had been quiet, his manner bordering on brooding, as they waited for his brother to arrive. Right before he left, he’d turned back and made her promise to come to him if she encountered any trouble.

  Rebecca couldn’t get the intensity with which he’d said it out of her head, his seeming reluctance to leave. Probably her imagination. He must be as eager as she was to put this behind them.

  Wringing excess water from the sheets Caleb had slept on, she strung them on a makeshift clothesline near the fireplace and tried to ignore the change in the cabin’s atmosphere. The weight of the silence was choking, as if his departure had sucked the energy and life from her home.

  “See? Refusing him was the right thing,” she told herself, maneuvering the sudsy water basin across the floor toward the door. “Caleb has the uncanny ability to shred your good judgment.”

  Amy was on the stairs, stomping the snow from her boots, when Rebecca opened the door. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

  “Okay.”

  Together, they carried the unwieldy load behind the house. The sun peeked through the clouds, glistening on the melting snow and warming Rebecca’s skin. Tipping the water out, Amy blew strands of hair out of her eyes.

  “We have practice for the Christmas pageant tomorrow night. Should I walk to church or do you think Toby can manage the trip?”

  Rebecca held the empty basin in one hand and kneaded her lower back with the other. “I’d like to go to town. How about we walk in together?”

  Storm chose that moment to bound out of the forest, short legs splashing through the stream and startling them both. Amy nibbled at her lower lip. “Are you worried about the men looking for Caleb? Is that the reason you want to come with me?”

  Her sister wasn’t aware of Rebecca and Caleb’s situation, and for once, she wasn’t sure what to reveal and what to keep hidden. While she wasn’t Amy’s parent, it sure felt like it sometimes, and she struggled to know what to do.

  “I simply need a change of scenery.” Linking arms with Amy, she led her around to the porch. “And there are ingredients I need for the baking I have planned.”

  “Are we going to make gingerbread cookies again this year?”

  Rebecca smiled. Last Christmas had been their first without their parents. She’d hit upon the idea of making gingerbread cookies together, thinking it would be nice to start a tradition of their own. “Would you like that?”

  Earnestness sparkled in her blue eyes. “Very much.”

  Inside, they assembled a simple meal of fried potatoes, ham and corn bread. Neither mentioned Caleb, but she caught Amy’s gaze on his empty chair several times.

  “You must be relieved to have your own bed again.”

  “I didn’t mind sharing with you.” Sliding a stare at the bed, her brow furrowed. “I miss having Caleb around.”

  “How about I play a game of checkers with you?”

  “I thought you were going to paint.”

  “I can paint later.”

  Staying busy was the only way to keep their minds off their recent guest. Eventually his brief stay would be nothing but a fuzzy memory.

  After they had played five games—with Amy besting Rebecca every time—the younger girl settled on the settee with a book and Rebecca took up her paints and paintbrush, deliberately painting a snowy landscape instead of the beguiling face that refused to leave her mind.

  She passed a fitful night, worries presenting themselves in upsetting dreams. Had the trip across town caused Caleb undue pain? Was he getting the proper rest? Eating enough?

  Where were the outlaws right this minute? Was refusing to marry him the right decision?

  By the time pageant practice rolled around Thursday evening, Rebecca’s nerves were stretched taut. Depositing her cloak in the church alcove, she cringed as the kids’ chatter filling the main room struck her ears. Her skin felt too tight. Her legs were the consistency of molasses.

  Amy dashed down the nearest aisle, braids flapping, and Rebecca stifled the urge to call her back.

  Stop being ridiculous. I’ve nothing to be apprehensive about.

  Strolling toward the front, she watched as her sister joined her dearest friends, Clarice and Laney, who were leaning against the piano. The girls pressed close to Amy and began whispering furiously. A couple of feet away, Oliver and Philip Pelletier laughed and pointed her direction, garnering the other children’s attention.

  Rebecca stopped and seized hold of the nearest pew. It was like watching a field of parched grass catch fire, the flames leaping from stalk to stalk until the entire expanse had been consumed.

  The dawning anxiety on Amy’s face confirmed every worry she’d wrestled with since turning Caleb down.

  “Rebecca?”

  Ripping her gaze away, she had trouble focusing on the beautiful young woman before her. A riot of white-blond curls framed fair features that were a study of concern.

  “Megan. Hello.”

  Megan Beaumont was in charge of organizing the pageant. She was also Caleb’s cousin.

  “Are you okay?” she said. “You’re looking quite pale. Would you like to sit down?”

  “I—”

  Snippets of conversation among some of the parents drifted over. None of it complimentary. Their speculation as to what had happened between her and Caleb drove hot color to her cheeks.

  Megan laid a hand on her arm, her sea-colored eyes intense. “Thank you for helping Caleb.”

  Rebecca merely nodded, plucking at her suddenly too-snug bodice.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been placed in this situation. My family and I will support you in any way we can.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment.”

  She wondered what to do. Stay and endure the stares? Embarrass Amy further by taking her home before practice commenced? It wasn’t as if Rebecca was a stranger to gossip. Her broken engagement and Adam’s subsequent departure had been the preferred topic of discussion for months on end.

  But this felt different.

  She wasn’t the victim any longer. She was the perpetrator of imagined misdeeds.

  “Mrs. Beaumont,” a young voice called out, “we have a question.”

  Megan hesitated, clearly torn. “I have to get practice under way. If you need to talk, I’m always available.”

  Then she was hurrying to address the child’s concerns. Keeping her gaze straight ahead, Rebecca sank onto the bench. Leaving would only make her look guilty.

  * * *

  “We shouldn’t have come here.”

  Rebecca sipped the ginger-laced tea, letting the hot liquid soothe her throat, while sneaking glances at the café’s other patrons. The speculative gazes she encountered quickly skidded away, followed by hushed whispers.

  Her teacup rattled as she placed it on its saucer. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

  Across from her, Meredith leaned forward, stark white cup cradled in her hands. “You can’t hide out in your cabin forever. This will pass.”

  At least Plum’s wasn’t crowded this late in the afternoon. The proprietor, Mrs. Greene, emerged from the kitche
n to deliver their cinnamon buns. Her compassionate gaze settled on Rebecca.

  “I know you’re going through a rough time, dear. I wanted to tell you I admire you for sticking to your convictions. Keep your chin up.”

  Rebecca’s response was cut off by the approach of another patron, Ruthanne Moore, whose husband owned Clawson’s Mercantile across the street. “Don’t listen to her.” She waved a heavily ringed hand. “Unless you want to wind up a lonely spinster.”

  Mrs. Greene sighed. “Now isn’t the time, Ruthanne.”

  The buxom blonde rolled her eyes. “You brought it up. Besides, it’s not like Rebecca doesn’t know she’s the topic of conversation at every table here.”

  Meredith caught Rebecca’s attention and mouthed, I’m sorry.

  Ruthanne dropped a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Listen to me, honey. That Caleb O’Malley is a fine specimen. Snag him while you still have a chance.”

  By now, all conversation had ceased, and their table was the focus of everyone in the café. “Thanks for the advice,” she mumbled, certain she couldn’t force a bite of the sweet treat down. “Mrs. Greene, would you mind wrapping this up? I’ll take it home with me.”

  Brows meeting over her nose, the proprietor nodded, removed the plate and steered Ruthanne away.

  Gaze lowered, Rebecca fiddled with the delicate cup handle.

  “Don’t let it get to you,” Meredith urged in a soft whisper. “The news is still fresh. Another month and everyone will have forgotten all about it.”

  “I don’t know, Mer. What if they don’t? What if I made the wrong decision?”

  After practice last night, Amy had been uncharacteristically quiet. Rebecca’s every attempt to draw her out had been rebuffed and, like a coward, she’d allowed the matter to drop.

  “I have a feeling this will forever taint my reputation. I’ll always be the girl who sheltered a man unchaperoned in my home. There will be questions in people’s minds about my moral standing, about my virtue.”

  “Not in everyone’s,” Meredith said fiercely. “Your friends, those who’ve known you your whole life, won’t question anything. We’ll support you.”

  “What about Amy? There’s no question in my mind now that she will suffer because of my actions.”

  Meredith was aware of Amy’s sensitivity, due to both her tender age and the tragedy that had visited her life.

  “If you marry Caleb, you will be the one to suffer.”

  “Better me than her,” she said.

  Meredith patted her hand. “If I had siblings, I hope I’d be the kind of sister you are to her.”

  Mrs. Greene brought the wrapped-up treat. “I put an extra in there for your sister.”

  “That was thoughtful of you.” When Rebecca loosened the strings on her reticule, the older lady put out a staying hand.

  “It’s on me this time.”

  They thanked her and gathered their things, ignoring the lingering stares. Strolling along Main Street, Rebecca trained her gaze on the quaint church framed by bare-limbed trees and low, grayish white clouds. The stained-glass windows and festive greenery adorning the entrance added welcome color to the dreary landscape. Pine and smoke from burning woodstoves sharpened the cold air.

  They left the businesses behind and walked along the dirt road leading to their respective homes. “Caleb spends most of his time in the high country,” she said. “If we were to marry, he wouldn’t be around that much.”

  Meredith twirled the tan-colored reticule dangling from her wrist. “Good point. And when he is around, he could fix things around your farm.”

  She studied the winter-dead forest to their right and longed for spring’s vibrant beauty. Marrying Caleb wouldn’t be entirely disadvantageous, she supposed.

  They stopped at the entrance to her cove. Meredith’s pretty green eyes were troubled. “What if you married him and then Adam came back?”

  Her breath caught. “Adam has made his feelings clear. He’s not going to change his mind.”

  Battling a frown, Meredith gave Rebecca a quick hug. “I’ll be praying, sweetie.”

  Throat thick with gratitude, Rebecca watched as Meredith continued on her way before entering the cove. She found Amy on the porch rocker, head in her hands.

  Jogging across the yard, she knelt at her feet. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  Amy slowly lifted her head, and Rebecca gasped at the angry scratches lining her left cheek. “What happened?”

  Fresh tears joined already dried tracks. “They said horrible things about you.” She sniffled. “I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

  She fought to keep her anger hidden. “Laney and Clarice weren’t involved, were they?”

  “No. They defended me.” Amy looked a little defiant. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No, I’m not.” She was mad at this entire, nightmarish situation. “However, you’re aware that violence isn’t the answer.”

  “The teacher wants you to come and see him Monday morning to talk about my punishment.”

  “And what about the other girls involved? Are they to be reprimanded, as well?”

  Amy nodded, eyes darkening. “Why do they think you should marry Caleb?”

  How to explain this? “It’s complicated.”

  The sound of an approaching team had her pivoting in her crouched position. Two men occupied the wagon—one guiding the team, the other sitting in the wagon bed.

  “Who’s that?”

  Rebecca reluctantly pushed to her feet, her stomach a jumble of nervous anticipation. “Caleb.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He was probably the last person Rebecca wanted to see, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. Not after news of last night’s fiasco and today’s school altercation reached him.

  Nathan held his crutches out to him, waiting by the wagon as Caleb hobbled closer to the cabin. Draped in her lush, fur-lined cape, black-and-blue-striped skirts peeking out from beneath the hem, Rebecca stood like a soldier at attention, ready for anything he might throw at her. Her copper-streaked hair was arranged in a neat chignon, putting those lovely cheekbones on display as well as the slender column of her throat, the pink curve of her ears.

  He’d missed her. Thought about her every minute. Not that he’d ever admit it to her or anyone else.

  “I heard about what happened.”

  Her eyes, such a striking shade of green, hit his, and he faltered at the hint of desperation there. “How?”

  “Megan stopped by this morning.” He gripped the handles tighter, recalling his outrage as she related the story. “As for what happened at school.” He paused, wincing at the sight of the marks on Amy’s skin. “Will told Sophie, who told Nathan, who told me.”

  Will, Sophie’s ten-year-old brother and Nathan’s brother-in-law, had been upset about what happened. He and Amy were friends.

  “Are you okay, Amy?” he said softly.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Gaze sliding away, she nodded. To Rebecca, she said, “Do you mind if I go inside?”

  Rebecca pressed the wrapped cinnamon buns into Amy’s hands. “Mrs. Greene sent you a treat.”

  “Thanks,” Amy mumbled.

  When the door clicked behind her, Nathan moved closer. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “You don’t have to go.” Rebecca gripped the nearest post.

  Was she being polite or simply didn’t want to be alone with him?

  His brother flashed an enigmatic smile. “I don’t mind. Could use the exercise.”

  When Nathan was some distance away, she returned her attention to Caleb. “Why did you come?”

  “Because I knew you’d never come to me, in spite of your promise.”

  Her lips pursed, but she didn’t deny it. “How’s your leg?”
<
br />   “Manageable.” He swung closer to the steps. “Look, can I come up there? I’m getting a crick in my neck.”

  “Would you like to come inside?”

  “I think Amy could use some space right about now.”

  Lifting her skirts, she descended the steps, boots sinking slightly into the ground moist with snow-melt. “You didn’t have to check up on us, you know.”

  “My offer still stands, Becca.”

  The color leached from her face. While her features were a composed mask, her luminous eyes were a deep, green, swirling tornado of despondency. “If we marry, it will be as if we’re admitting to wrongdoing.”

  “Folks have already made up their minds about that. Marrying will make things right in the eyes of the community. The gossip will fade. The situation at school will settle.”

  She stalked away from him, glaring into the distance.

  Caleb waited, throat as dry as sandpaper and pulse all over the place.

  His future hinged on her answer. If she said no, he’d leave this cove, never to return. No more anonymous gifts. He’d have to find another way to help her out that didn’t involve coming here. Once the outlaws were captured, he’d go back to sleeping beneath the stars, his worldly possessions stowed in his saddlebags and nothing but his horse to keep him company. Not the life he’d dreamed of, exactly, but it was what he deserved.

  If she said no, he wouldn’t be asking a third time.

  She hung her head. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  Becca pivoted to face him. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  For a second, his world seemed to dip and twirl, and he gripped the crutch handles until the wood bit into his palms.

  “You have to promise to stick to the deal,” she continued without emotion. “This is a marriage on paper only. We will live separate lives.”

  Caleb had to call on all his powers of concentration in order to process her words. He was getting married. To Becca. And all he could feel was fear and guilt. She was his best friend’s sweetheart.

  Her tumultuous gaze stabbed him. “Promise me, Caleb.”

  “I promise I’ll return to the high country just as soon as Tate’s killers are behind bars.”