A Texas Legacy Christmas

by DiAnn Mills

  Mr. Barton took a deep breath as though he’d just delivered a regal declaration and pointed to the parlor. “On Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, you’re free to go after breakfast. And with Christmas coming, we’ll want to decorate everything.”

  How could she do all those things and keep an ear out for the bell above the door? “When the work is caught up after supper, then I’m free to go to my room?”

  “That and all the entries made for the day. Once a week, I’ll bring you the books and receipts from the feed store to post figures. And you are free to do as you please on Sundays. I’ll help Simeon with meals before and after church. It gives me a chance to visit with the boarders.”

  Chloe hoped she remembered everything Mr. Barton had instructed. He wanted the numbers written in the ledger a particular way and the book stacked beneath the counter with the spines out so he could grab them at any time. She saw strength and perfectionism in him, no doubt instilled at an early age from his crippled arm. A new respect for him surfaced. She’d been crippled too. Her spirit limped from the years of abuse, but things were changing. Soon she’d be able to walk the streets of Kahlerville with her head held high and ignore the jeers.

  *****

  “Now that you two have eaten, a bath is in order. Once we get to my apartment and build a fire in the stove, you are going to scrub long and hard.” Zack stood from the small table at a restaurant where he and the twins had eaten their fill of vegetable soup and bread.

  “A bath?” one of them said. “Why? We had one not too long ago.”

  “You’re Curly?”

  The child nodded. Zack studied him and Charlie. How would he ever tell them apart? First thing in the morning, the boys would get new clothes for the trip home. That way he could assign them a particular color.

  “It’s like this, Curly. You’re dirty, and tomorrow we’re heading to Texas on the afternoon train.”

  “How far is this Texas?”

  “It’ll take us a few days to get there.”

  Curly ran his finger around the soup bowl and then popped it into his mouth. Those two definitely needed to learn some manners.

  “Mr. Kahler, why did you take us?” Curly crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Not sure myself. It just happened. Looked to me like you needed a good home, so I’m going to try to provide one.” Zack nodded at Charlie. “How’s come your brother never talks?”

  Curly frowned. “Guess Charlie doesn’t have much to say.”

  “Charlie, anything you want to ask me?”

  The little boy shook his head.

  “How much work are you going to give us?” Curly glanced over at Charlie’s bowl, which still held part of a spoonful of soup.

  Without a word, Zack handed him his own piece of bread. “The only kind of work I can think of is schoolwork and a few chores.”

  “Where are we gonna live?”

  Zack rubbed his chin. He’d been thinking about that very thing. What was he going to do with twin boys? “I haven’t decided yet. I bought a newspaper office, so we need to live close to town.”

  “What’s this Texas like?”

  “It’s mostly country. Lots of farms and ranches in the community.” Zack waved his hands around the room. “There’s only one restaurant in town, and it’s at the boardinghouse. But I heard another restaurant is opening soon. It’s quieter there. Slower pace of life. I can tell you more about it on the train.”

  Curly rested his hands under his chin. “Are you sure this isn’t a trick to make us work for you?”

  Zack understood the suspicions. The twins probably didn’t trust anyone. New York had its share of mistreated children. “I give you my word. I don’t have any intentions of seeing you boys come to any harm.”

  Curly fidgeted, glanced over at Charlie, then back to Zack. “There’s somethin’ I have to tell you.”

  “Go ahead.” Zack had long sensed the boys were wasting time to prolong the bath.

  “Charlie’s not a boy.”

  *****

  Long after sundown, Chloe labored over the cash box holding the day’s money. A number of guests had taken rooms, and she had counted the money twice before unlocking the cash box and placing it inside. She’d placed it behind the ledger book just like Mr. Barton had instructed. But when she’d added a new boarder’s money, Chloe discovered the cash box was short two dollars.

  Her stomach churned. She could only imagine the accusations. Mr. Barton would have her arrested, and the town’s gossip would rise like chimney smoke on a cold morning. What had happened to the money? She’d been sure of the correct amount before helping Simeon with dinner. If only she had the two dollars to put into the cash box. This position was her opportunity to better herself, and now her mistake would give her free room and board at the jail.

  The boardinghouse hushed as the residents retired to their rooms. Chloe removed every item she could find from behind the registration counter in an effort to find the lost money. Tears threatened to surface, but she bit them back. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed eleven. Thoughts of running crossed her mind, except where would she go without any money?

  The bell above the door tinkled, and she held her breath. Mr. Barton made long strides toward her.

  “You’re working late.” His gaze fixed on her as if he knew her blunder.

  “Yes, sir. I am.”

  “Why?”

  She thought her heart would burst from her chest. Surely he must have heard it. “I seem to have misplaced something.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  Chloe stood. Her knees trembled, and a lump settled in the back of her throat. “The cash box is short two dollars. I don’t know how it happened, but when I opened it to add a new boarder’s money I discovered the cash was missing.”

  Mr. Barton nodded. “I see.” He reached inside his trouser pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “You’ve passed the test.” He peeled off two one-dollar bills. “I wanted to see if you were honest, so I took the money while you were helping Simeon tonight. I have a key to the cash box with me at all times.”

  Chloe didn’t know whether to leap for joy or unleash a bit of her temper. “Mr. Barton, you nearly caused my heart to fail me.”

  “Good.” Not a trace of emotion creased his face.

  Anger dripped through her veins. She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of his prank but thought better of it.

  “You want to say something?”

  “No sir.”

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Good evening, Miss Weaver. Sleep well. I think this arrangement will work out just fine.”

  Shortly thereafter, Chloe crawled beneath the sheets of her very own bed. She’d slept so many nights on the hard floor or under the stars that the comforts of a mattress, even though it was threadbare, had to be just short of heaven. Praise God. Come Sunday, she’d be singing the loudest in church—and praying Mr. Barton was finished with his tests. Surely Mama would be looking down from her mansion with Jesus, happy that her daughter was going to be fine. Those boys who’d found her living by the river wouldn’t be teasing her anymore. Someday she’d leave this town and never look back. Maybe save enough money to buy a business or teach school or even own a little house. She’d grow old taking care of herself with only books as friends.

  Exhausted, she hoped the days to come were filled with more hours for sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Zack settled onto a seat on the train across from Curly and Charlie, or rather Carlin and Caitlain. His children. They did look cute in their new clothes, especially Charlie in a bright blue dress with a matching hair ribbon in her curls. She looked very much a little girl. He’d splurged a little and bought shoes, socks, and undergarments for both of them. Then he remembered they would need day clothes once they arrived in Kahlerville. More purchases. More money.

  He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. If he took the time to sort out the past few days, he might become ill. All of
this happened because two little thieves had picked his pocket. Now he was—

  Zack startled. He was a father? What did he know about children? Where would they live until he found a house? And did he continue to call them Curly and Charlie or their given names?

  He glanced at the twins. Both of them had their fingers up their noses. Definitely Curly and Charlie. “Hey, stop that.”

  They knew exactly what he meant, for their hands now lay in their laps. Zack reached inside his coat for a clean handkerchief and handed it first to Charlie. The twins fought, used language that only a bar of soap would cure, and ate like little animals. Where would he begin?

  His mother would be appalled. Zack’s original thought of living with his parents until he found a place of his own he now deemed impossible. Never would he subject his family to these two until he worked on civilizing them.

  “You don’t like us. I can tell,” Curly said. “I know you’re mad ’cause the sisters made you take us from the orphanage.”

  How did he reassure them that he did care? “I do like you, and no one made me do anything. I’m just tired and thinking about the future.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where we’re going to live, your schooling, my newspaper. Those kind of things.”

  “We used to have only a mama. Then we had nobody. But now we have you.” Those were the first words Charlie had spoken without being prompted. “But you hate us.”

  Curly put his arm around Charlie’s shoulder. Big tears rolled over her too-thin cheeks.

  What had he done wrong? Zack slipped from his seat and leaned over his little charges. Mischievous as they were, they were now his. “I don’t hate you at all. If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have started the adoption process.”

  “What does that mean?” Curly said.

  Zack proceeded to wipe the tears from Charlie’s cheek with his finger. “It means we are going to be a family.” He paused. “We are a family. I just need to figure out how to take care of you.”

  The twins quickly exchanged glances. “We thought you’d lied to us and we were going to work at your newspaper,” Curly said.

  Zack shook his head. “Not at all. Oh, you might help me if I need something special, or you might ride along with me to deliver newspapers. But your job is to be a child and go to school.”

  Charlie sniffed. “Do I have to give back my clothes?”

  “Of course not. And I’ll get you more when I start making money.”

  “I heard you tell Sister Catherine that you had family in Texas.”

  “I do. And you will have a grandma and grandpa, aunts, uncles, and cousins.”

  Their smiles were the sweetest this side of heaven. Maybe the two wouldn’t be so much trouble after all. He bent and kissed each one on the forehead. Perhaps now was the time to start thinking about these two as blessings instead of a burden.

  *****

  Saturday mid morning Chloe carried a load of dirty linens down the back stairs. She expected the day to be quite busy. Earlier Simeon had whipped up the lightest pancakes she’d ever tasted, while she fried the bacon and set the table. The boarders were friendly, which made her work easier and almost enjoyable. Lugging the chamber pots up and down the stairs and then cleaning them, however, was at the bottom of the list of her favorite duties. Nasty. Smelly. She heard Mr. Barton say that in the next six months he intended to add a couple of water closets. He hadn’t stopped by yet this morning, and that was fine with her. Last night’s test had pushed her patience nearly to its limits.

  She heard the bell above the front door and made her way to the registration desk to see if she was needed. Mr. Barton had a bag of flour and a fragrant bag of coffee beans in his hand. This time he wore overalls. That man sure had lots clothes. He made his way toward her.

  “Morning, Miss Weaver. I trust you slept well.” He grinned broadly.

  She clenched her fists. “Very well, thank you. Once I got to bed.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I guess I deserved that.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a peppermint stick. “Will this sweeten your day?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh and reached for the peppermint. “I think it’s a grand start.”

  “Wonderful. Do we have a two-bedroom room available?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “I just received a telegram from Zack Kahler. Not sure if you ever knew him. He’s due in on Monday afternoon’s train. Says he’ll have two children with him.”

  Had Zack married? She remembered him as the handsome boy who was one of the few who hadn’t teased her about her Indian heritage. Truthfully, she remembered a lot about him.

  “From what I hear, he purchased the newspaper. Must have married someone from New York. Odd, the town hasn’t heard about it.” He tipped his hat and headed for the kitchen.

  Zack with a wife and children? She heard he’d gotten into some trouble when he was younger, when his mother was a widow. Then Brother Whitworth came to town and married Zack’s mother. Oh, he had his moments like all boys, but they were playful—not cruel like some of the other boys. When she was a girl, she fancied herself one day wed to him. Ridiculous when she considered he’d viewed her as a charity case. Chloe shrugged and decided to check on the empty rooms for Mr. and Mrs. Zack Kahler and children.

  *****

  Zack carried a sleeping Charlie off the train in Kahlerville. Curly trailed beside him in a similar state of exhaustion. With an air of apprehension whipping about him, Zack glanced about for his parents. The town had grown. New buildings had sprung up, and there were changes in the old. Later he’d study the town and learn about the new businesses. Where were his parents?

  When he had made arrangements at the boardinghouse, he should have also wired his parents about the twins, but he didn’t quite know how to word the news about them. Odd, he could write a newspaper column, but he couldn’t convey to his parents that they now had two grandchildren.

  His gaze swept across the depot. His family made their way toward him. There they were: his petite blond mother who looked more beautiful as the years passed, his far-too-lovely sixteen-year-old sister, his eight-year-old brother, and his stepfather, whom Zack loved as fiercely as his own deceased father. He wished his brother, Michael Paul, was there too, but he was in seminary. Surprise registered on all of their faces. He chuckled and leaned over to Curly.

  “Your grandparents, Aunt Lydia Anne, and your uncle Stuart, who is only two years older than you, are straight ahead.”

  “I’m scared.” Curly latched on to Zack’s coattail.

  “No need to be.” But Zack sensed his own stomach doing a few flips. Should he wake Charlie? How was he supposed to make introductions?

  His stepfather reached him first and leaned over the sleeping Charlie to hug him. “Good to see you, and we’re all so glad you’re home.” He swung a glance first at Charlie, then at Curly. “Are you helping someone with their children?”

  “Not exactly.” He gulped. “The twins are mine. Well, they will be. I’m in the process of adopting them.”

  Mama offered a shaky smile. She stepped closer, and Zack bent to let her kiss his cheek. “Welcome home, son. My, you are more handsome every day.” She took in a deep breath. “The children are quite a surprise, but a good one. I’m—I’m anxious to hear the story.”

  Lydia Anne covered her mouth, but a giggle managed to escape. “You look funny carrying a little girl.”

  Stuart laughed aloud, his dark hair spilling over his forehead. “Big brother, I never thought I’d see you comin’ off the train with children.”

  Concern swept over Mama’s face, and she stroked the sleeping Charlie’s cheek. “Oh, my dear boy. Are you ready for this responsibility?” Without waiting for a reply, she stooped down to Curly. “I’m your grandma. What is your name?”

  Curly appeared to be speechless. Definitely a first.

  “You’re shy,” Mama continued. “I understand meeting all of us must be
a shock.”

  “Their names are Curly and Charlie, and they are six.” Suddenly Charlie had gotten very heavy. “Actually their names are Carlin and Caitlain.”

  His dad chuckled. “Perfect names. A bit of Irish stew. I like nicknames myself. Let’s get your trunk into the wagon and head home.”

  Zack cleared his throat. He could count on Dad to make the most awkward of situations a little easier. “I’ve arranged for us to stay at the boardinghouse. The twins and I have adjustments to make.”

  “I won’t hear of it.” Mama frowned. Her severe look used to work when he was a kid, but not at the age of twenty-four.

  “Mama, these two have lived on the s–t–r–e–e–t. They can be an h–a–n–d–f–u–l.”

  She continued to frown. “But the boardinghouse is no place for children to play.”

  “I’ll find us something suitable soon.”

  Curly sneezed, and the contents dripped to his chin. Zack scrambled for his handkerchief while balancing Charlie. The handkerchief was not exactly clean, but he attempted to wipe the boy’s face anyway.

  Dad laughed until his eyes filled with tears. Lydia Anne and Stuart joined him, but Mama pulled her own dainty handkerchief from her reticule and helped.