by Zina Abbott
“Mrs. Clayton says this is for special days like Christmas or Sunday meetings. She says I’m to wear my old apron for everyday.”
“It’s beautiful, Letta.”
“I remembered to tell her thank you, Ma.”
“That makes me real proud, Letta. I’m proud of both you two tonight, more than ever.”
“I reckon this here’s as good a time as any to break out the presents I brung for Christmas,” said Isaiah.
“You got us a present?” Letta’s voice filled with wonder.
“Sure did. I couldn’t very well show up on Christmas Eve without bringing a little something, could I? Got them tucked in my bedroll out on the back stoop.”
Annie wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and followed Isaiah out the door. Letta clapped and bounced in place, turning until she faced Samuel.
“Two presents tonight! Sgt. Jenkins is better than Saint Nicholas.”
“No, he’s not. I reckon he’s a-showin’ off because he’s a-tryin’ to court Ma. Don’t that worry you?”
Arletta shrugged.
“Nope. I like Sgt. Jenkins. He’s nice.” Then hesitating, Arletta asked, “Sam, what’s ‘court’ mean?”
Before Samuel could answer, Annie and Isaiah returned to the kitchen.
“Shush! I’ll tell you later,” Samuel whispered to Letta.
Isaiah made a big production of unfolding a clean Army neckerchief.
“Let’s see what we got here. First, looks like a stick of peppermint for each of you.”
Annie smiled with contentment. Thanks to Isaiah, her children were going to get a piece of candy for Christmas after all.
“One for you, too, Mrs. Murdock,” Isaiah said as he handed her the last of the peppermint with a flourish. “That’s not all. I still got a little something for each of you.”
“Me first!”
“Why, I do believe you’re right, little Miss Letta. Ladies first, especially pretty little ones like you. I’m hoping I got the size right, but here’s a pair of red mittens you can wear while it’s cold out. ”
Eyes wide, Letta sucked in her breath and uttered an “Oh.” She took the mittens from Isaiah and turned them over in her hands. She ran to show them to Annie.
“Look, Ma! Look how pretty.”
“They’re right smart, Letta. What do you say to Sgt. Jenkins?”
“Thank you, Sgt. Jenkins. I’m a-goin’ put them on and sleep with them all night.”
“You’re welcome, Letta. Now, Sam, I got something for your hands, too, only they’s made a little tougher since I know you work hard outside to help Mr. Clayton around the ranch. These gloves are the kind the soldiers like to buy come winter. I got the smallest size the trader at the post had. If they don’t fit you, you’ll likely grow into them soon.”
Samuel slowly accepted the leather mittens with the back topped with muskrat fur that Isaiah handed to him. He knew they would keep his hands warm and protect then while his worked in the barn and around the yard. He figured normally a person didn’t give such a nice gift unless they thought highly of the other person. Or, unless they wanted something. Could Sgt. Jenkins really have any regard for a boy like him? Samuel had a hard time believing that could be the case even though he’d like to think so. But, he wanted the gloves, so he wasn’t about to turn them down. He just hoped the man wasn’t giving him such a great gift only because he had too much interest in his mother.
“Thank you, Sgt. Jenkins. I reckon I’ll get plenty of use out of these.”
“You’re welcome, Sam. Now, I got one last thing for your ma. Here you go, Mrs. Murdock. I figured this would look right pretty in your hair. Bring out the color in your eyes, too.”
Isaiah pulled out a length of ice blue ribbon and handed it to Annie.
Choked with emotion, Annie barely voiced her thanks loud enough to be heard. She held it up to the light. As she stroked the silky length of the ribbon, she decided it would go with the gray dress she planned to make. She smiled as she pictured herself wearing Isaiah’s ribbon on New Year’s Eve.
“This has been the bestest Christmas, Sammy—I mean, Sam,” Arletta said. “But, Sgt. Jenkins, we don’t got no Christmas present for you ’cause we didn’t know you was a-goin’ to be here.”
“Now, that’s not true, Letta. For Christmas, I got a kiss under the mistletoe from the prettiest little girl in these here parts. I also got to see Sam step up like a man and show his ma his love by giving her a kiss under the mistletoe. I figure those are right nice presents. And...”
Grinning wide, Isaiah looked over at Annie, his eyes full of mischief. He stepped next to her and, with his arm around her back at the waist, he pulled her next to him so they stood side by side.
“And, while you two were trimming the tree and singing Christmas carols with the Claytons, your ma gave me a very special present. She said that when she brings Miss Victoria to the fort for the New Year’s Eve Officers’ Ball, she’ll go with me to the Sergeants’ Ball. She’s going to dance the first waltz with me.”
Samuel studied his mother’s face as it flushed and lit up with a smile. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her eyes sparkle the way they did after Sgt. Jenkins talked about the dance. She was never this happy with his pa.
“That true, Ma? You a-goin’ to the ball with Sgt. Jenkins to dance the first waltz with him?”
Annie looked her son in the eye and nodded. She realized that she had not agreed to dance the first waltz with Isaiah, but only because the subject had not come up in their earlier conversation. However, if he had asked her, she would have said yes. She knew that because of the shortage of women, over the course of the evening she would be expected to get out on the dance floor with several of the men. If she could have her way, though, she would dance every dance with Isaiah, just so she could spend the evening in his arms.
“Why you a-givin’ Ma a ribbon, Sgt. Jenkins?” Samuel’s disgruntled question interrupted Annie’s thoughts. “It’s not right, a man a-givin’ a woman a gift unless she’s family or he’s a-courtin’ her. You a-plannin’ to court my ma, Sgt. Jenkins?”
“Don’t you worry about it, Samuel,” Annie said. “It’s not up to you if he’s a-courtin’ me or not. I’m a grown woman and your pa’s been gone almost a year.”
“I’d be right proud to court your ma, Sam. But for now, I reckon it’s best to say I’m here to share the Christmas spirit.”
Isaiah studied the boy to see just how resistant Samuel felt toward him.
Samuel felt a tug on his shirt sleeve. Arletta reached up and whispered in his ear.
“What’s ‘court’ mean, Sam?”
“Shush,” Samuel hissed back at his sister. “I told you, I’ll tell you later.”
“We’ll leave it at that, Sam, me being here to share the Christmas spirit. All right with you?”
“Yes, sir,” Samuel said grudgingly. “I guess.”
Oblivious to the tension in the room and with her new pinafore in one hand and red mittens in the other, Arletta twirled in circles. She skipped until she stopped in front of Annie.
“Can we take our presents to our room, Ma? I want to sleep with mine.”
“Yes, you may, Letta. But don’t go a-puttin’ that pinafore under the covers with you or it’ll end up a-lookin’ like a used dish rag. You lay it flat at the bottom of your bed so it’ll look nice for tomorrow.”
“All right. Night, Ma. Night, Sgt. Jenkins. You a-comin’ Sammy—I mean, Sam?”
“Yeah. Thanks for the Christmas presents, Sgt. Jenkins. It was right thoughtful of you to remember us this Christmas.”
“Welcome, Sam. Merry Christmas.”
After the two children scooted out the kitchen toward the stairway that led to their attic bedrooms, Isaiah turned to Annie.
“Much as I don’t want to leave you, my sweet Annie, I better go throw my bedroll out in the bunkhouse and get some shut-eye so’s I can get an early start for Laramie in the morning.”
“Thank you for a
-stoppin’ by, Isaiah. Thank you for everything.”
A twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, Isaiah stepped forward and pulled Annie into his embrace. In response, Annie slid her arms around his neck.
“No, Annie, it’s me who needs to thank you for saying you’ll marry me. You mind me telling Mr. Clayton about our plans? If it comes up, I mean. I don’t want to ask him for a job then act like I’m holding back on him.”
“If it comes up, Isaiah. But make sure he knows my youngsters don’t know yet.”
“I will. Oh, Annie, you got no idea how much this grizzled old man loves you. There’s no better Christmas present I could’ve asked for than you promising to be my wife before the next year’s out. My life’s half over. But, whatever I got left, I want to spend it with you.”
“Me, too, Isaiah. I want you for a husband more than anything. You a-promisin’ to wed me is my best Christmas present ever.”
“Then, my sweet Annie, let’s seal that promise with a kiss. Come here and let me kiss you.”
“One kiss of many, Isaiah. One of many.”
Annie sighed as she tightened her embrace and leaned in to give him her heartfelt kiss. She knew that this kiss, and the promise it sealed, she would never regret.
Author’s Note
I have a record of a Christmas night ball in 1866 that was in full swing in Old Bedlam, the unmarried officers’ quarters at Fort Laramie, when John “Portugee” Phillips rode in to report the Fetterman massacre and to deliver Col. Carrington’s request that reinforcements be sent to Fort Phil Kearney 235 miles to the north. However, for the purposes of this story I set the 1873 holiday celebration for New Year’s Eve.
About the Author
ZINA ABBOTT is the pen name used by Robyn Echols for her historical novels.
Except for the first year of her life, Robyn Echols has lived in California. She started her young life in San Diego and has had gradually moved northward. She has been writing since she was in junior high school.
After working several jobs, including that of being a rural carrier and union steward for the California Rural Letter Carriers' Association, Robyn has spent years learning and teaching family history topics. She enjoys focusing on history from a genealogist's perspective by seeking out the details of everyday life in the past. Several of her family history articles have been published in genealogy magazines.
Robyn resides with her husband in California near the "Gateway to Yosemite." When she is not piecing together novel plots and characters, she enjoys piecing together quilt blocks.
Zina Abbott links:
Website: (still under construction): www.zinaabbott.homestead.com
Zina Abbott Books blog: http://zinaabbottbooks.blogspot.com
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/zinaabbottbooks?ref_type=bookmark
Zina Abbott Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/ZinaAbbott
A Christmas Promise Pinterest Board:
http://www.pinterest.com/ZinaAbbott/a-christmas-promise/
Prairie Rose Publications
WISHING FOR A COWBOY a holiday western romance anthology. Cowboys, kisses and love in the holiday air make for a special recipe in each of these wonderful new stories. Christmas miracles can happen when you're WISHING FOR A COWBOY! An exciting mix of professional award winning western writers and some terrific new talent can be found in this book. As an extra bonus there are Christmas recipes. Amazon Link
Coming November 2014
www.prairierosepublications.com