Jubilant Montana Christmas (Bear Grass Springs Book 5)

by Ramona Flightner

  She nodded her thanks, and they slipped outside for the short journey to the cabin she would share with her husband for at least one more night.

  The following morning, Leena arrived at the bakery with the basket she had left with the previous day looped over her arm. She groaned with appreciation as she set it beside the back door.

  Annabelle raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend. “Why should an empty basket pose such a burden?” Her inquisitive smile faded as Leena burst into tears. “Leena?” Annabelle rushed to her friend and business partner, pulling Leena into her arms.

  After Leena had calmed, Annabelle backed away, keeping her hands on Leena’s shoulders. “Why are you bundled up in layers of clothes?”

  Leena hiccupped a few attempts at words, but they came out as broken sounds. Finally she spoke. “It was the only way I could leave with more than one outfit.”

  Annabelle froze, and her grip on Leena’s shoulders tightened. “Leave? What happened to persuading him through cajoling to your manner of thinking?”

  Tears coursed down Leena’s face. “He told me last night that today would be my last day. That he was tired of sharing me with the bakery. That my only place was at home, taking care of him.” She bit her lip as she bowed her head.

  Annabelle pulled her close. “It’s all right, Leena.”

  “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.” Leena shivered and then backed up a step. “The basket is filled with items I didn’t want to leave behind.”

  Annabelle frowned as she studied the benign-looking basket, covered with a checkered cloth. “How didn’t he know it was heavier than it should be?”

  “Nathanial gave me a ride today. He’s not as solicitous as a husband would be, and, even if he suspected, I doubt he would disagree.” She shook as another deep, rattling sob burst out. “I don’t mean to cause you problems, Annabelle.”

  “No, come,” she said, tugging Leena to the small back rooms. “The bedroom is yours, although during the day I still need a place for Skye, and Leticia will continue to need a place for Angus.”

  Leena nodded. “Of course. I must remove some clothes before I start to bake today.” She headed into the rooms to the side of the kitchen, and she quickly shucked layers of clothes. When she returned to the kitchen, looking at least ten pounds lighter after she had removed three dresses, she donned a crisp white apron. “Can we not speak about this with the townsfolk? I would prefer they not know for as long as possible.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Of course, although you know that means one or two days at the most. They love their gossip.”

  Leena bit her lip and then met Annabelle’s encouraging gaze. “Could you speak with your sister-in-law and ask her not to mention my departure from my husband’s house? A notice in the paper would give me more notoriety than I would like.”

  Jessamine MacKinnon had married Ewan, the third and youngest MacKinnon brother, the previous December. She was the town reporter. When she had first arrived, she had had a penchant for printing the town’s most salacious gossip. After nearly losing Ewan due to such tactics, she had learned that discretion was more important than titillating her readers.

  Annabelle gave Leena a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. J.P. isn’t interested in this sort of news anymore. I’ll see if she wants to write about Norwegian customs or the delicious Norwegian foods you are baking. That will be of far more interest than where you are sleeping.”

  Leena gave a huff of laughter and rolled her eyes. “I doubt that but thank you, Annabelle.” They began to work in companionable silence in the hours before the bakery opened.

  Much later the back door opened, and Leticia, the former schoolteacher, entered with four-month-old Angus in her arms. From her first marriage, Leticia had an eight year old daughter, Hortence, who was adored by all the MacKinnons and was currently attending school. Leticia smiled at the two women and moved into the back room to place her son in the crib as he slept. She entered the kitchen, frowning as she tidied her hair and dress. “Why are there clothes on the peg and a brush on the table?”

  Leena took a deep breath and met Leticia’s gaze. “I’ve left Karl. I’m staying here for a while.”

  Leticia paled. “Left forever or left for now?” Her blue eyes were huge as she stared at Leena.

  “For now, but it may turn into forever.” Leena blinked rapidly as she fought tears. “I’m hopeful he will see the wisdom of my wishes.”

  Leticia patted her friend’s arm and then pulled her into a hug, ignoring the flour that would mar her sky-blue wool dress. “If he has any sense, he’ll understand what is missing from his life within ten minutes of arriving home tonight to find you gone. He’ll do what he must to have you back.”

  Leena sniffed and nodded.

  A few moments later Fidelia burst into the back, a bag slipped over her shoulder. She stilled when she saw Leena near tears and her sister’s serious countenance. She set down the bag filled with embroidered items to be sold and clenched her hands in front of her. “So soon?”

  Leena met the perceptive woman’s glance. “Yes. He told me last night that today was to be my last day at the bakery.”

  Fidelia frowned. “He won’t like it when you don’t return home. And he’ll dislike the town gossip even more.”

  Leena shrugged.

  “Never discount a man’s anger or desperation, Leena. Before agreeing to go back with him, be certain what he says from now on is true, rather than a momentary concession to entice you to return.” Fidelia met the women’s somber gazes in the room and tilted her chin up, as though expecting them to challenge her.

  “Wise advice,” Annabelle murmured. She glanced at the clock on the wall near the sitting room door. “We open soon, and there is still much to be done.”

  The women moved into action, setting aside their concerns for Leena as they baked, prepared trays to tempt the townsfolk and washed dishes. Although they hoped to brighten the day by singing Christmas carols, the dark mood clung to them.

  That evening Ewan MacKinnon approached his eldest brother’s house, stomping his feet to rid his boots of mud and snow before entering the side door to the kitchen. As the youngest MacKinnon brother, and third of four siblings, Ewan did not work at the livery with Cailean and Alistair and Bears. Instead, Ewan worked as the town carpenter

  Before his marriage to Jessamine, he had been a frequent patron and gambler at the most popular saloon in town, the Stumble-Out. Although he no longer visited the poker tables to partake of the games himself, he enjoyed hearing about others’ successes as they took risks, either at poker or in life.

  Ewan smiled to find his wife, Jessamine, already at the dinner table with a warm cup of coffee between her hands. “’Tis one cruel winter already,” he rasped as he shucked a hat, scarf, coat and sweater. He approached the stove and held his hands over the heat pumping from the warm burners.

  His wife winked at him as he poured himself a cup of coffee, and he joined her at the table. He smiled at his family gathered around the table and Ewan nodded his thanks as a plateful of food was passed his way. The only absent member was his sister, Sorcha, and he found he missed their frequent verbal sparring matches and her fiery temper. “Any news from Sorcha?”

  “Appears she’s recoverin’ but drivin’ Frederick daft,” Alistair said with a chuckle. “According to Harold, Frederick wishes he’d never saved her.”

  “She does have a tongue like a viper when she feels cornered,” Annabelle muttered.

  “Which I imagine she does daily with a broken leg, stuck at Frederick’s ranch,” Cailean said. He was unable to hide the concern in his gaze. “I wish we’d been able to get her home before the winter weather struck early.”

  “You know the doctor advised against moving her,” Bears said. “Not if you hoped for her to walk normally again.”

  The siblings nodded and sobered. “Thank God we have a competent doc in town at last,” Ewan said.

  Cailean chuckled. “It’s humor
ous to hear the townsfolk complain about him. Seems he’s a bit blunt for their liking.” He winked at Hortence, who listened to the talk with rapt attention.

  “Telling Old Man Fitzgibbons that he’s heavy enough to rival a herd of buffalo does little to endear the man,” Jessamine said. “That’s all the old-timers would talk about today.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “Our new doctor must learn some tact, or the townsfolk won’t listen to him when they really need to.”

  “Some will always prefer charm and incompetence over the harshness of reality,” Bears said. “Remember that, Hortence, and don’t be played for a fool when you’re older.”

  Hortence watched him with wide eyes and a fierce concentration, as though attempting to memorize his words. Her red hair never remained in a braid and was often a riotous mess around her face. At eight, she was a bundle of energy and curiosity.

  “Well, he was right about Sorcha’s injuries,” Fidelia said. “Helen agreed when I asked her.” The family members all murmured their approval of Helen Clark as she had trained with the previous midwife and had some knowledge about healing outside the birthing room.

  “We must be thankful Frederick found her afore the weather turned,” Ewan said. “Damn fool. Rushin’ out the way she did.” He calmed when Jessamine ran a hand down his arm. “Did Harold say anything else?”

  “Nae, although I think they’re concerned about their cattle out on the range,” Alistair said. “They’re hopin’ the weather breaks soon.”

  Ewan ate another mouthful, before tapping his fork on his plate. He looked around at his family before focusing on Annabelle. “What were ye thinkin’, Anna?”

  Annabelle shook her head and stared at her youngest brother-in-law in confusion.

  “Offerin’ refuge to a married woman.” He nodded as Leticia flushed, and Jessamine gaped at him.

  Cailean raised his eyebrows as he stared at his wife.

  “I passed by the sawmill today,” Ewan continued, “an’ ’twas all Nathanial would talk about. I was lucky Karl didna attempt to skewer me as he does the logs.”

  Annabelle flushed and then tilted her chin upward. “I was thinking I was aiding a friend who is desperately unhappy.”

  “She’s married, Belle. You have no right,” Cailean rasped.

  “She is also my business partner.”

  Cailean rose as their daughter fussed and walked with Skye in his arms but shook his head in disappointment. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  “I was going to speak with you about it tonight. I had not realized Ewan had already been informed.” Annabelle shrugged. “Leena has been upset for a few weeks, but I didn’t know why until last week. She was forced to act by her husband.”

  “’Tis a reckless thing to do!” Cailean said. “Ye’ve just expanded the bakery. What if the locals decide not to patronize ye any further?” His accent reemerged, as it always did when spurred on by deep emotions.

  “Then I will pay for my transgression of being a good and loyal friend,” she snapped, lifting her chin higher as her cheeks reddened with her agitation. “There’s money saved, Cailean.”

  “Her husband wanted her to only be at home. To deny her the joy of working in the bakery,” Fidelia whispered. She had the tendency to shrink into herself when voices were raised or when there was conflict, yet she spoke up on this matter.

  Bears, who had joined them for dinner, said, “To deny her the joy of friendship.”

  Fidelia nodded. She held her hands clasped together on her lap with her head bowed as she stared at her plate.

  Alistair let out a sigh. “She canna remain at the bakery, Anna. ’Tisn’t just ye anymore it would affect.”

  Annabelle glared at the men in her family. “How can you be so weak, so willing to bend rather than standing up for her? She is our friend. She is my business partner, and she is in need. I will not turn my back on her, and she will always be welcome to use the rooms at the bakery for as long as she desires.”

  Ewan watched her with a calculating glint in his eyes. “That’s yer game, is it no’?” When she glared at him, he smiled. “To help Karl see what a fool he is by givin’ Leena a place to go.”

  Jessamine made a small noise of disagreement. “It isn’t a game, Ewan. Leena’s gambling with her future and her marriage.”

  He smiled at his wife and nodded. “I ken all about gamblin’, love.” He raised a worried gaze to look at his family around the table. “I just hope Leena kens it too.”

  Karl Johansen entered the small home he shared with his wife, Leena, glaring at the chilled stove. His breath formed small puffs of white air in front of him, although it was marginally warmer inside than in the raging winter storm outside. He lifted off the cast iron stove plate, playing with the dormant embers until they came back to life. After adding a few pieces of kindling and then a larger piece of wood, he settled the stove plate atop the stove again. Soon a subtle warmth pervaded the tiny cabin.

  He had come home for an impromptu midday meal and had found her letter informing him that she was moving out. He stared into space as his mind replayed her note, his hands fisting with impotent ire.

  Karl,

  I see no reason to remain when you are unreasonable. I want more from life than to live isolated in this house. I had hoped you would understand that and would celebrate in my success in town as one of its bakers.

  For my success is yours, as yours is mine.

  Leena

  He stared at the stove, glaring at it as it did not allow him to contemplate flames as he would in a fireplace. However, he had been determined to impress Leena and had wanted a proper stove for her since she enjoyed baking. “As though she would be satisfied cooking and cleaning for me,” he said with a kick at one of the steel feet of the stove. He listened to the wind howl outside and despaired at his isolation in his small home.

  At the knock on his door, he rose and barely spared a glance at his best friend and brother-in-law, Nathanial Ericson. “There is no need to worry,” Karl said. “She will be home soon.”

  “Ja, there is. And you’re a fool not to realize what you’ve pushed her to do,” Nathanial said as he shucked his coat, scarf and hat. He set a plate of food on the table and met his friend’s glare. “You are not eating, Karl.”

  “I will eat what my wife makes me,” he snapped.

  “Then you will go hungry and starve like those animals who do not forage enough for winter,” Nathanial growled.

  Karl turned away and shook his head as he stared at the darkened area of the small living area. At the small bedroom area. “Just say it, ja?”

  “What did you do to force her away? Why do you believe she left?”

  Karl shook his head. “Why do you believe it is my fault? She is not acting like a good woman. A good wife.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I want her home. Tending this home. Tending to our life.”

  “You know what the bakery and those friendships there mean to Leena,” Nathanial said.

  “Ja, and I know that your family has always been too tolerant of those who should be shunned. Of women who do not know their roles.” Karl’s jaw ticked as he glared at his friend. “I want my wife at home.”

  Nathanial met Karl’s dark glower. “Are you saying we should never have accepted you, Karl? That my father should never have treated you as he treated me? That my mother should have allowed you to starve?”

  Karl spun and stared out the front windows, nothing visible outside in the pitch black.

  “This is about you, Karl.” Nathanial met his friend’s incredulous stare as he spun to peer at him. “Ja, you. Keeping Leena here, controlling her, will make you lose all you want.”

  Karl gave a grunt of disbelief.

  “She believes you only married her for the sawmill partnership. That you have no real affection for her.”

  Karl shook his head, as though Nathanial were a crazy man, spouting nonsense.

  “You aren’t the only
one with doubts.” Nathanial took a deep breath. “You risk more than your marriage. You are like a brother to me. But Leena is my sister. She will always come first.” He met Karl’s irate gaze.

  “I cannot be partner with a man who would agree with a woman who abandons her marriage,” Karl hissed.

  Nathanial’s cheeks reddened, and he glared at his best friend. “And I cannot be partner with a man who doesn’t know how to cherish what he’s been given.” He tapped Karl on his shoulder while his jaw ticked with anger. “You’ll lament all you have lost.” He slammed the door behind him, the windows rattling in their casings worse than from the howling wind.

  Karl growled at Nathanial’s departing back, tossing the plate of food to the floor in his rage. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands fisted at his side as he attempted to control his anger and welling sense of despair as he faced a night alone.

  A fire crackled in the potbellied stove as Leena sat in the small sitting room in the back of the bakery. Annabelle had wanted space in the expanded bakery for a nursery and also a place to steal away for a quiet moment from the busyness of the baking. She understood the need for a solitary moment as four strong-willed women worked together on a daily basis.

  The small room was painted a soothing yellow and had a rocking chair and another wingback chair around the stove. A desk in a corner was frequently used when Annabelle worked on the books, and a multicolored quilted throw rug crafted by Sorcha hung over the back of the unoccupied chair while a cradle was along a nearby wall. One door opened to the bakery, and another opened to the tiny bedroom. Moonlight shone in through the bedroom’s window as the howling wind had dissipated, and an eerie calm settled over the town.

  Leena sat in the rocking chair with an afghan over her lap, her hands cupped around a hot mug of tea as she considered her present situation. A letter from her mother sat on the floor beside the rocking chair, and she sighed as she considered her mother’s advice.