by Jillian Hart
Adam took a long sip from his cup and studied his mother. Everything looked very proper on the surface, but something was still wrong. He just couldn’t decide what it was. Surely his mother wasn’t upset that Hannah would meet some other children. He knew one of the Hargrove girls must be quite a bit older than his daughter, but out here in the West children didn’t separate by ages as much as they did back East. There weren’t enough of them around to do that.
“You’ll have to bring them over to meet Hannah,” his mother said, some of the brooding lifting from her face. Then she glanced over at where Eleanor stood by the stove. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Eleanor?”
“Lovely.”
“We’ll have a little party,” his mother continued with more satisfaction in her voice than seemed justified.
“They’d like that,” Jake agreed.
Adam decided he was being fanciful as he watched his mother. What harm could come with some little girls getting together for a party with his daughter?
“Why don’t we do it for Christmas?” Adam heard his mother say. Her voice was melodic and calm. For a moment, he didn’t realize even what she’d said. “Bring your whole family and come visit us.”
“Tomorrow?” Jake asked, a little surprised.
“Bring your trapper friends, too, if they are at your place,” his mother said with a smile. “We have room for everyone.”
“Mother, we can’t—” Adam began. What was wrong with her? She knew they only had three cups.
Jake responded in a friendly voice, “Now, ma’am, I know you just got here. And I’m thinking Eleanor probably wants to have some time to get to know all of you before you invite your neighbors over.”
Adam continued to watch the smile broaden on his mother’s face and he could see there was trouble coming.
“Eleanor would be delighted if you’d join us,” his mother said as she turned to the other woman. “Wouldn’t you, dear? It will be a chance for you to show Adam what kind of a hostess you are.”
“Surely, there’s no need,” Adam tried again, but he realized his future bride wasn’t listening to him.
Instead, her cheeks pinked up and she got a fire of some sort in her eyes. Then she looked at his mother in the way a new recruit looks at his first sergeant—a little fearful of what hurdle would be required but determined to do his best, anyway.
“I don’t think—” Adam started, but his future bride interrupted before he could finish.
“It would be my pleasure,” Eleanor said firmly and then she turned to face Jake. “I do hope you and your family can come over tomorrow. We’d enjoy your company.”
Her voice was formal, but sincere.
“Well, if the snow calms down, maybe we can come for a short while,” Jake said cautiously and then grinned. “The truth is, if I tell Elizabeth and the girls, they’ll have the team all hitched up before breakfast regardless of what the weather is like. They’ve been inside for days now and they won’t be able to resist meeting some new folks. We’ll be here for a bit in the morning.”
“But surely you’ll stay for dinner. That’s what you meant, isn’t it, dear?” his mother asked as she turned to Eleanor.
Only his years of dealing with his mother revealed to Adam the slightly malicious edge to her voice.
That’s when he remembered what very little food they had. How could he have forgotten? “I’m afraid it won’t—”
A sharp glance from Eleanor stopped him. He knew from the pallor on her face that she was counting the cans of peaches that were left, as well, but for some reason she was not going to stop this. “We’ll eat at noon. That way you’ll have time to get back home before it gets dark.”
If he didn’t know better, Adam would think that his bride-to-be and his mother had just faced off against each other. He’d need to find out what was happening between them before there arose any resentful feeling that couldn’t be calmed down. He looked at their faces and wondered if he wasn’t already too late.
* * *
Eleanor watched as their visitor walked back to where he’d entered. Adam had to go over and pull the door closed after the man left so the wind wouldn’t blow in more snow. The inside of the cabin had never been so dark at this time of the day, Eleanor thought as she took a deep breath and steadied herself. Thick clouds must be covering the sun. She had listened to Jake’s final conversation carefully to make sure she knew the exact number of guests she should expect. It was five, counting the toddler.
She wondered if the little boy would expect a whole peach at his young age. The tin can she had opened last week had six wonderful round peaches inside. She’d felt guilty eating them all by herself, but she’d been so tired of having only beans. She regretted the impulse now. There was only one can of fruit left to serve everyone. Even if she didn’t give herself one, she’d still have to cut them in half for the children. A half a peach wasn’t much for Christmas dinner.
She wished she had time to write a letter to the cook at the Stout estate. Hadn’t the woman poured something over peaches once and set them on fire? Eleanor had thought it was nonsense at the time, but it had been the French way of doing things and that would impress Mrs. Martin and delight the children.
Just glancing at Mrs. Martin now, though, Eleanor wondered if anything would please the older woman. Her chin was lowered as she studied a spot on the table. Eleanor figured she was bound to fail in the woman’s eyes.
Instead of fretting, she walked over and put some more wood on the fireplace. She wasn’t going to admit defeat and, until Christmas was over, she had nothing to say to anyone who was trying to humiliate her in hopes that Adam would see just how useless she was when it came to entertaining guests. Mrs. Martin’s charge that Eleanor only knew how to talk to sheep still stung.
The irony was that she knew she wasn’t the kind of wife Adam needed for the life she now saw he would be leading. If Mrs. Martin had been more polite about it, Eleanor would have gladly confessed her shortcomings. There had obviously been a misunderstanding. Even Mrs. Stout wouldn’t have promoted the marriage if she had known all that Eleanor now knew. But it was too late. Christmas was coming and Adam would be embarrassed in front of his friends if she didn’t do something.
Dear Lord, help me, she prayed. They had beans and those old potatoes. Would that be enough?
Would she be enough? she wondered.
She was shivering so she wrapped her arms around herself and stood in front of the blaze for a moment. She took care not to get too close to the flame. The skirt on her pink calico dress spread fuller than the ones she usually wore. It was the best garment she owned and she’d worn it today in honor of her wedding. She knew it didn’t compete with Mrs. Martin’s maroon dress, and it wasn’t really a bride’s dress, but it was the best she had. One of the housemaids on the estate had made a lace collar for her to wear with it. She had done all she could. There was no going back.
She didn’t lift her head, not even when she heard footsteps coming toward her.
“Eleanor,” Adam said softly when he stood next to her.
She looked up at him and noticed the way the fire lit up his face with a golden glow. He had no right to be so handsome. His jaw line was firm and his mouth unsmiling. His hair had fine pieces of hay in it though and she almost reached up to smooth them away until she noticed the pity in his eyes.
She turned and a moment later she heard him walk away. At least no one had ever looked down on her when she had been on the Stout estate.
Then she heard his footsteps stop in front of his mother.
“Why did you do that?” he asked the older woman in a voice that betrayed no emotion, but demanded an answer.
“What?” his mother said, sounding innocent.
Eleanor looked over at the woman. She knew Adam’s mother would expect a whole peach. In fact, she’d probably feel she deserved the whole peach tree. Standing there in a dress more expensive than any Eleanor could ever hope to own, the other woman casually
glanced around the cabin as if she were a queen surveying an unfortunate slum that she’d been forced to visit. The tiny smile that tugged at her lips could be nothing but triumphant.
“You invited the Hargroves over for dinner,” Adam said, bringing her attention back to him, his voice grim. When she didn’t say anything, he opened his mouth to continue, but his mother spoke instead.
“They’re your neighbors,” she protested with a little self-righteous laugh. “I don’t know why you’re upset. You’ll certainly have some civilized activities now that Hannah is here. It’s a small thing to invite a family over to mark the most blessed day of the year.”
“The most blessed—” Adam said incredulously and then his eyes narrowed. “God forgive you, I wish I could believe that’s what you were thinking. You know we have nothing to feed them.”
“Oh,” his mother said, looking unsure of herself for the first time, but then she shook her head. “That can’t be true. You must have something. What were you planning to feed us?”
“Beans.”
“For Christmas dinner!” his mother looked truly shocked. Her voice had risen until it was louder than it had been all morning. She turned to Eleanor with real concern in her eyes.
“And we don’t have many of those,” Adam added before she could ask any more questions.
His mother kept shaking her head. “I don’t believe it. Even out here, people must eat more than beans for Christmas dinner.”
Eleanor bit back any words she might say. “It’s not that easy to get supplies here. There’s not a mercantile down the street.”
Just then Eleanor heard a slight sound in the doorway that led to the back room. It was followed by a girlish giggle.
All three adults turned. Hannah stood there in her nightgown with her hair in disarray and a rosy smile on her face. “You’re teasing me. No one has beans for Christmas. Except the bad children, but Santa brings them coal, too.”
There was absolute silence. Even the sound of the blizzard outside seemed to fade.
Finally, Adam took a few steps until he stood in front of his daughter. “Hannah.”
He paused and cleared his throat before squatting down and looking her in the eyes. “Honey, Christmas is about more than what kind of food we have to eat. It’s a celebration no matter what is on our plates. It’s the day that Jesus was born.”
Adam reached out and smoothed some stray hairs away from the girl’s face. She gave him a sweet smile and nodded a little uncertainly. Eleanor could see that Hannah still didn’t believe there would not be something special for dinner.
“I doubt even the shepherds made do with beans,” Mrs. Martin said, low enough that only Eleanor could hear. “I don’t know why you couldn’t do even a little bit of planning. You knew Christmas was coming.”
“I did,” Eleanor said. She didn’t want Hannah to worry in case she could hear them. “I saved a candle.”
“You what?” The other woman spoke louder than she obviously intended, her bewilderment making her forget any thoughts of being discreet. “A candle!”
“Yes. I always put a candle in the window on Christmas Eve,” Eleanor said in a normal voice as she walked toward Adam and Hannah. They both looked up at her and she knelt down so she was part of their circle. She looked at Hannah. “It’s something my father always used to do. And his parents before him. It’s a way of honoring the Christ child.”
Hannah’s eyes were wistful as she stared at Eleanor. “Can I light it? I’ve never lit a candle.”
Eleanor glanced at Adam and he nodded slightly so she continued, “I think we can make an exception for tomorrow night.” She paused to get more approval and then added, “We can read the Christmas story, too, and, if the night is clear, I can take you outside and let you look through my father’s telescope to see the stars. It was a star that guided the wise men to the baby Jesus.”
“Really?” Hannah’s eyes were wide. “I’ve never seen a star before.”
“Of course you have,” Mrs. Martin interrupted in annoyance. She walked over to where they stood and frowned down at them. “There are stars everywhere. All you have to do is go outside at night and—” The woman’s voice trailed off.
Adam nodded as he put his arm around his daughter. “You probably haven’t done that for a long time.”
“Grandma says I need lots of sleep,” Hannah said, nodding solemnly. “Because I’m sick.”
It was silent again.
“You’re not sick,” Adam said, his words measured. “You’ve been injured, but that’s different than being sick.”
Eleanor wanted to hug the little girl, but she didn’t.
“Don’t tell her she’s not sick,” his mother said impatiently. “What do you know? I’m the one who has to hold her hand and wipe away her tears when some doctor tells her she can do something when it is clear she can’t.” The older woman drew in a breath. “You men don’t know anything about children.”
“What did the doctor say?” Adam asked, his voice sounding stern this time.
“Oh, you know how they are,” his mother said, as she gave a dismissive gesture with her hands. “They don’t understand how difficult it was for Hannah to be thrown from that window. Of course, she can’t be expected to do what the other kids do. And those scars of hers will never go away. Just look at them.”
As she said the last words, Mrs. Martin lifted the hem of Hannah’s nightgown enough to show the puckered scars on her legs. “She’ll never be like the other kids.”
“Oh, but—” Eleanor said without thinking. She’d reacted to the look on Hannah’s face. But once she’d started talking, she knew what she needed to say. She stood up and faced the older woman. “Yes, she will. Hannah has nothing to worry about. A scar doesn’t mean she’s different, not in any important way.”
Eleanor would have gone on to say she’d seen burned skin like that before and she knew just how well it could heal. But Adam’s mother drew in her breath so sharply it sounded as if she hissed.
Then she glared at Eleanor. “You have no business—”
“Yes, she does,” Adam said firmly as he stood up. “She’s going to be taking care of Hannah. She’ll be her mother.” He paused. “And I’m the one who didn’t get the supplies ordered. I sent a message, but I didn’t confirm it had arrived. Under the circumstances, Eleanor behaved heroically. It was my responsibility.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said and then turned to look at Eleanor with undisguised hostility. “Everyone knows a wife is responsible for keeping a full larder in the house.”
“I won’t have you talking that way to Eleanor,” Adam said, even though Eleanor knew he hadn’t been able to see the glare his mother had given her.
His mother lifted her chin. “I guess I can’t blame you. I was taken in by her at first, too. Although I certainly don’t know why either one of us was. Anyone can see she’s not much.”
And with that Mrs. Martin swept into the back room, leaving the rest of them to stand there and awkwardly look at each other.
“She doesn’t mean anything by her words,” Adam said stiffly. “I must apologize for her. I expect the trip out here was more tiring than she realized.”
Eleanor nodded. She knew better, but she didn’t feel like criticizing the woman when it was obvious that Adam and Hannah both had strong ties to her. Otherwise, there would be no reason for the tears that were pooling in the girl’s eyes as she stood there.
“We’ve all had a long trip out here,” Eleanor said, forcing her voice to sound cheerful. “That’s no reason for any of us to be sad, though. Christmas is coming tomorrow and we’re going to have some of the best company we could possibly want.”
Hannah blinked and her eyes grew wide. “Who is it?”
“Some girls who want nothing more than to meet you,” Eleanor said and saw the excitement build on Hannah’s face.
“What are their names?” she asked.
“The youngest one is named Mary,” Ad
am said. “Her sister, Spotted Fawn, named her that after Christmas.”
“Spotted Fawn?” Eleanor looked up in confusion. “Isn’t that—”
Adam nodded. “The two girls are partly Lakota Sioux. They’re Jake’s nieces. They came to live with him when the fighting was so bad with the soldiers. His half brother Red Tail lived and eventually died with the Lakota people.”
Eleanor was stunned. “I’ve never met an Indian before. Do the girls speak—” She stopped, realizing how the question might sound. Her face flushed in embarrassment. She, of all people, should know not to judge someone based on their race. Somewhere someone was probably asking if an Irish person could speak any kind of language at all.
Adam nodded with a quick glance in her direction. “The girls speak better English than I do. They go to school in Miles City. Spotted Fawn is almost finished with her studies, and I hear she’s set to be a teacher next year if she can find a school to hire her. Mary is quite a bit younger. More Hannah’s age.”
“Do they have any dolls?” the girl asked.
Adam looked down at her. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Did you bring your dolls with you?”
She shook her head. “Grandma said I should leave them in her house ’cause we didn’t have any room in my trunks.”
“I see,” Adam said, his voice telling Eleanor he didn’t approve. She wondered if he, like she, had noted the large number of hat boxes his mother had brought with her.
He didn’t say anything after that.
“We’ll figure out some games for you to play,” Eleanor finally said. “There are lots of things you can do on Christmas.”
Hannah looked at her dubiously. “I never get to play games. Grandma says there’s too much shoving and running. I might get hurt.”
“These will be quiet games,” Eleanor assured her. “You won’t need to worry.”
With that, Hannah started to smile. “I can’t wait for Christmas to get here.”