Cowgirl Under the Mistletoe

by Louise M. Gouge

  Sitting on either side of her, Maisie and Georgia nudged her with their elbows and then peered around her at each other, both smothering grins with their hands. What on earth were they up to?

  The Rev finished his sermon and then read out the prayer requests. Grace committed his words to memory so she could pray for the folks all week. Down the row, Ma wrote the requests out because her memory didn’t serve her as well as it used to. It wasn’t Ma’s only failing recently. All the more reason for Grace to take off her badge and help her folks at the ranch full-time.

  Several members offered prayers until the whole list had been brought before the Lord. Then the Rev said the final prayer, and Mrs. Foster struck up “Joy to the World” to end the meeting on a happy note. Children came through the side door and ran to their parents, with Miss Sutton and Anna following behind. Miss Sutton made a beeline to Susanna Northam, but Grace couldn’t hear what she said. Anyway, she wanted to speak to the Rev, so she moved in that direction.

  “It was his mother’s ring.” Miss Sutton held up her dainty left hand to display a big, pretty gewgaw that caught the light and sparkled like a red star. She smiled toward the Rev, who was talking with Nolan Means.

  Grace’s heart dropped like a rock. So the Rev had proposed to Miss Sutton. It was about time. It was also time for Grace to go home. And stay there. She stepped out of the pew and headed up the aisle. Since admitting to herself that she loved the Rev, she’d tried her best to change her heart, but it just wasn’t working. Seeing Miss Sutton with his mother’s ring was just too much. Besides, that fancy gewgaw would look silly on Grace’s rough hands. She’d lose it in the hay while feeding the horses or doing some other ranch work, that’s for sure.

  The outside air smacked her in the face, and she felt tears freezing on her cheeks. She’d never been a crybaby, but look at her now. She had to get away before somebody saw her.

  “Grace, wait for us.” Georgia followed her out of the church, with Maisie right behind her. “What’s your hurry?” They caught her and held on like nobody but family would dare.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Maisie brushed a gloved hand over Grace’s cheek. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” Grace tried to pull away, but they wouldn’t let her.

  “Didn’t you see the way Reverend Thomas was looking at you? Didn’t you notice how he lost his place in the sermon?” Her sisters giggled.

  “Don’t be mean, Maisie.” Grace continued to tug against her sister’s hold. “Just because you caught Doc’s eye...”

  “Don’t you be silly, Grace.” Her older sister touched Grace’s chin and forced her to look into her eyes. “It’s because I know what a man in love looks like that I know Reverend—”

  “Hush!” Grace gasped, waving a hand toward the crowd of people emerging from the church. To her relief, her sisters stopped their teasing. “I’m going home. Tell Ma and Pa.”

  Georgia eyed Maisie. Maisie nodded.

  “On Saturday,” Maisie said, “I’ll come out to the ranch to help you get ready for Nolan Means’s Christmas party.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m not going.”

  “Not going?” Her sisters spoke at the same time.

  “Wasn’t invited.” Saying the words almost made Grace cry full out, but after a struggle, she managed to hold back her tears.

  “The very idea,” Maisie huffed, sending a plume of frozen breath into the air. “Well, if you’re not invited, Doc and I won’t go either.”

  “That’s not right.” Grace couldn’t allow her sister’s sacrifice, no matter how good the sentiment made her feel. “We don’t have enough fancy goings-on in this town for you to miss out on the biggest one. Besides, Doc will need an evening out after all he’s been through.” He’d stayed home tonight to watch baby Johnny and to tend his patients.

  “What about what you’ve been through?” Georgia’s loving concern shone in her eyes.

  Grace shrugged. “All part of the job.” A job she couldn’t wait to be done with.

  More people emerged from the church, some stopping to offer Grace their thanks for saving the town again. She tried to smile, but the wind had picked up, freezing her lips. Finally freeing herself from her sisters and friends, she mounted up and headed back to the ranch. With every thump of Mack’s hoofbeats on the snow-covered road, her heart pounded painfully. How long did it take to get over a broken heart? Grace prayed it would be soon, or she would surely die.

  * * *

  Micah stood beside Sheriff Lawson’s bed, one hand on Everett Winsted’s shoulder to keep the frightened boy from bolting. His mother, Nelly, held his other shoulder. She and his grandmother, Mrs. Winsted, had brought Everett to see Micah first thing this morning. Although he’d planned to ride out to the Eberly ranch to see Grace, he couldn’t miss this opportunity to help the boy.

  “Everett, I want you to tell Sheriff Lawson what you told Deputy Grace and me on Monday.” Micah wished Grace could be here to help out, but Justice Gareau said she’d asked him to take care of the jail for a while.

  The boy stuttered through the explanation he’d given Micah and Grace about how the outlaws had lured him into their gang, saying they needed help, making him feel important, charitable, grown-up—until it was too late. Everett stopped from time to time to sob or blow his nose. To his credit, he didn’t make excuses for his actions. All the while, Sheriff Lawson glowered in his menacing way, as though Everett were a hardened outlaw. When the boy finished, he tried to lean against his mother, but she set him upright.

  “You wanted to be in cahoots with evil men.” Nelly’s face was remarkably placid. “Now face your punishment like a man. Sheriff, don’t hold back.”

  The fatherless boy had already repented, and Micah wanted to plead for mercy, but couldn’t bring himself to interfere. Justice would have to prevail. But perhaps if someone had required mercy for Deke and Hardison when they were young, how different their lives might have been.

  “Well,” the sheriff drawled, “I could put him in jail with that Purvis fella, the one who shot me for putting him in prison years ago. Would you like that, boy? To be with your friend?”

  Everett’s eyes widened in fear. “No, sir. He’s not my friend. I never want to see him again.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Then I suppose you don’t want to join him and Hardison in Cañon City Penitentiary either.”

  “No, sir.” Everett’s voice squeaked. “I’ll do anything not to go to prison. Let me stay in jail here.” He bit his lip. “Just not in the same cell as Mr. Purvis. Please?”

  “Hmm.” The sheriff scratched his chin thoughtfully and stared off across the room. “Maybe we can come up with a better plan. How about you do some work for the folks in town, the ones those outlaws meant to harm?” He listed several unpleasant tasks, such as keeping the streets clean after horses had left their calling cards—a never-ending task—and shoveling snow from the boardwalks. They settled on six months of unpaid labor to be done after school every day, with a plan to revisit the matter if Everett slacked off. “You can add to that list anything Reverend Thomas needs help with.” He nodded to Micah.

  “Sounds good to me.” Micah grinned as several chores around the church came to mind.

  Mercy had indeed prevailed. Now if he could find Grace and tell her everything that was in his heart, all would be right in his world. That was, if she felt the same way. She still didn’t take compliments well, so courting her might turn out to be a problem. His heart light at the prospect of the challenge, he made his way down to the livery stable to fetch his horse. No time like the present to ride out to the Eberly ranch to begin courting the lady he loved.

  “Reverend Thomas!” His face creased with worry, Adam Starling hailed him from across the street.

  “What is it, Adam?” An uneasy feeling swept aside Micah’s happiness.

 
Adam ran toward him, almost falling on the rutted street. “My pa. I’m going to get Doc. Please—”

  “I’ll get Doc. You go help your mother.”

  “No, sir. Please.” Adam panted, hardly able to talk. “Pa needs you.”

  “I’ll go to him.” He patted Adam’s arm and then broke out in a run toward the boy’s house. Poor Bob Starling still hadn’t recovered from his beating almost two years ago. If he died... Micah wouldn’t let himself think about it. Now was the time to bring the Lord’s comfort to the family, and it was the Lord Who would take care of their future.

  * * *

  Grace hadn’t been cross with her mother since she couldn’t remember when. Even now, she held her tongue after Ma insisted she needed baking soda right now and couldn’t wait until Georgia got out of school. But the last place Grace wanted to be was in town, where she might run into the Rev or Miss Sutton or, worse, the two of them together.

  Unlike last night when she’d ridden Mack fairly hard to get home with only a sliver of a moon for light, Grace listlessly nudged her gelding to a walk. Which wasn’t fair to him. In the cold air, he liked to canter, at least. Care for her horse finally forced her to give him his head, and they arrived at the mercantile all too soon. To her further discomfort, she saw Dub Gleason and his friends seated inside around the cracker barrel. To her surprise, they all stood when she entered the store.

  “Howdy, Miss Grace,” Dub said, with the others offering similar greetings. To a man, she couldn’t see the slightest bit of derision in their faces.

  “Howdy.” Unsettled, she marched past them as she let her hat slide off and hang down her back on its strings.

  After Homer Bean took her payment for the baking soda, plus a pretty little figurine she’d chosen for Georgia’s Christmas present, she gritted her teeth to walk past the wastrels again. Again they stood.

  She spun around and fisted her free hand at her waist. “What’s this all about?” She refused to stand for it another day, another minute. It was time to have it out with them. “You mocking me?”

  They all stared at her wide-eyed.

  “No, ma’am, Miss Grace.” Dub shuffled his feet. “In fact, I want to apologize for acting like a—” he gulped and cleared his throat “—well, acting rude to you all these years. We all come to see you’re a mighty fine-looking woman, not to mention a mighty fine deputy.”

  She narrowed her eyes and glared at them, one at a time. “What brought on this unlikely repentance?” Unbelievable would have been a better word.

  “Oh, nothing,” Dub said. “We just saw the error of our ways.”

  “The reverend lit into us the other day. That’s what did it,” Earl Aldrich said.

  Dub punched his friend’s shoulder. “That’s not what did it. Not for me. It was seeing what a brave woman you were catching those outlaws. You put all the men to shame.”

  Grace had grown tired of hearing how brave she was. She’d only done her duty, the same as she’d done all her life. “But the Rev did say something?”

  “Yessum.” Earl stepped away from Dub, who shot him an angry look. “He just about preached us a sermon right there on the street. Told us we’re lazy bums. Said you’re a fine, brave woman.”

  “That’s the truth.” Shep spoke up for the first time. “He give us what-for.”

  “Huh.” Grace would ponder this information later. For now, she wasn’t about to let these “lazy bums” off. “Sounds like you all benefited from the Rev’s sermon. Why don’t you start coming to church on Sundays so he can improve you a whole heap more?”

  She marched out of the store to a chorus of “yessums.”

  On the way home, she felt an odd lump form in her chest. The Rev had protected her with his words, just like he’d protected her with his own life. It only made her love him more. It only made the hopelessness of that love hurt even worse.

  She’d known she’d never marry because of the way men saw her. Gawky, too tall, plain. But now, the one man who’d always treated her just right, who’d even changed her mind about romance, was marrying somebody else.

  * * *

  While Doc did what he could for Bob Starling, Micah took Mavis into the kitchen and served her coffee. Adam, Molly and Jack sat at the table, their eyes on their mother.

  “He’s still with us.” Her voice broke. “At least for a little while.”

  “Does this mean he can come to our Christmas play?” The hopeful look in six-year-old Molly’s blue eyes almost broke Micah’s heart.

  Mavis gave her a watery smile. “Wouldn’t that be nice? But I don’t think so, my darling.”

  “He’s sleeping now.” Doc entered the kitchen, his shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world rested on them.

  “If you need to see to other patients,” Micah said, “I can stay here.”

  Doc nodded wearily. “If it’s all right with Mavis, I’ll take you up on that. I had a long night with Seamus last night.” He held up a hand. “Don’t worry. He’s fine now.”

  But Doc wasn’t. The young man, close to Micah in age, had dark circles under his eyes and worry lines etched beside them.

  “Go ahead.” Micah reached across the table and patted Mavis’s hand. “We’ll be fine, won’t we?”

  He walked Doc to the door and received instructions on how much laudanum to give the patient if he woke up in pain. Otherwise, all they could do was keep him comfortable.

  Micah settled in to stay as long as he was needed. For some reason, the Lord didn’t want him to see Grace right now, but he wouldn’t complain. He would see her at Nolan’s Christmas ball on Saturday evening. They would dance together. He would ask if he could court her. Or maybe he should ask Mr. Eberly first. Yes, that was it. When the family arrived at Nolan’s, Micah would speak to her father, as was proper, and then dance with her, hopefully for the rest of their lives.

  But Grace didn’t come to the ball. Nor did her parents. Even Doc and Maisie were absent because they wanted to sit with Bob Starling, whose condition remained unchanged. In one of those odd little moments where faith and a hard life seemed to collide, Doc and Maisie said what Micah had been thinking. If Bob could just hold on until after the Christmas pageant and Christmas Day, it would sure be easier on his children.

  Despite impressive decorations, excellent refreshments and music provided by a string quartet from Denver, Micah’s heart wasn’t in the festivities. Like the church, the interior of the banker’s elegant brick house was festooned with pine boughs and red ribbons. Sparkling blown glass ornaments decorated the tree, along with a genuine silver filigree garland in place of a string of popcorn. Miss Sutton was in her element, already the beautiful, brilliant hostess any banker needed. And yet nothing in Nolan’s party pointed to the purpose of the Christmas season, a celebration of Christ’s birth. After Nolan and Miss Sutton announced their engagement, Micah danced with a few single ladies who lacked partners, making sure to give preference to none of them, then made his excuses and returned home.

  He couldn’t understand why the Lord kept preventing him from seeing Grace, especially since she’d seemed depressed. Surely now that Micah knew he loved her, knew she was the Lord’s chosen wife for him, he should tell her as soon as possible.

  Or was he mistaken? Did her depression mean she no longer cared for his company?

  Or did her belief that she was unfit for marriage go deeper than he thought?

  Or was he just a conceited, muddleheaded chump to think she loved him as he loved her?

  Chapter Fourteen

  After milking the two milk cows and feeding the horses and chickens, Grace returned to the kitchen to help Ma fix breakfast. She’d worn her usual trousers and boots for the chores and planned to stay in them all day so she could work around the ranch. In spite of her charge to Dub and his friends that they needed to go
to church, she had no intention of attending this morning. Someday, once the pain lessened and she was able to accept that the Rev had married the right woman to be a minister’s wife, she would go back.

  “You wearing that to church?” Georgia, already dressed in her Sunday best, set plates and utensils on the breakfast table.

  Grace scowled at her youngest sister. “I’m not going,” she said under her breath.

  Pa chose that moment to enter the kitchen. “What’s this?” He gave her a long look, the one that had always made his five daughters fidget. “Grace, you know the rules. As long as you’re living in my house, you’ll go to church.”

  Standing by the stove, Ma gave Grace a sympathetic smile. “George, don’t you think she deserves some time to rest up from last week?” Somehow she didn’t quite sound like she meant it.

  “Humph.” He settled in his chair and took up his freshly filled coffee cup. “She’s had a week. The rest of the posse’s been back to their work, and my girls are as strong as any man.” He stared at Grace over the steaming cup. “You’ll go to church this morning.”

  As old as she was, Grace knew better than to argue—or to hesitate in answering. “Yessir.”

  After breakfast and helping Ma and Georgia start dinner to cooking, she went upstairs to freshen up. How lonely these three bedrooms seemed to her. Growing up, she and Maisie had shared a room and the younger three sisters had shared another. Now Grace and Georgia each had their own rooms. With no one to chat with as she fell asleep or when she woke up, her life had become so solitary. Maybe that was why she’d latched onto the Rev’s friendship. He was easy to talk to and—

  “Hey, sis.” Georgia flounced into the room, her green woolen skirt swirling about her legs in a feminine way. How had all of Grace’s sisters managed to become so ladylike, while she had remained a tomboy? “I’m going to help you get dressed.”

  “You are? You’re mighty bossy for a sixteen-year-old.”

  Georgia laughed. “If it’ll help, Maisie told me to do it. So you have to cooperate or I’ll be in trouble with our big sister.”