Jubilant Montana Christmas (Bear Grass Springs Book 5)

by Ramona Flightner

  Do nothing rash, dear Leena. You are in the new moon stage of your wedded life.

  Her mother always preferred to speak of nature when giving advice, and Leena wished her mother had chosen to speak more plainly in this instance. Her father, in his few scribbled words, had been blunt.

  You knew Karl years before you wed him. Do your duty.

  She sighed again, resting her head against the back of the rocking chair and glowered into her teacup. The momentary glow and sense of triumph she had felt at declaring her freedom and her self-worth had faded, and now she sat in dejected silence. Alone and lonely. She rubbed at her upper chest, as though scrubbing away a hidden ache.

  Her mind flitted to much-earlier scenes of her life with Karl. Flirting with him as they sat across from each other at her parents’ kitchen table in Norway. The anxiety and momentary fear as he waited for her to accept his proposal. Their first kiss, sweet and innocent. Watching his eyes gleam with pride and happiness as she had walked down the aisle toward him on their wedding day. The wonder and joy when he had coaxed her from her wedding finery that night. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed.

  She moved her head to and fro against the back of the rocking chair as tears coursed down her cheeks. Although she had no desire to give up her work or her friendships, she wished she could find a compromise with her husband. “For I do love him,” she whispered. “I always have.”

  A deep sadness enveloped her as she was uncertain her love would ensure her enduring happiness with her husband.

  Ewan arrived at the sawmill in a sleigh with his foreman, Ben Metcalf, beside him. With the heavy snow, the roads were impassible for wagons. During the winter months the only possible way to travel was by sleigh. Ewan gave Ben a warning glance. “Don’t provoke the man into beating me senseless.” He winked at the man he considered partner and then jumped down to enter the warmth of the sawmill. Stacks of cut logs were along one wall, and Ewan scrubbed at his head as he envisioned moving the lumber from the mill to his worksite in a sleigh.

  Ben frowned and grumbled, “This is what we get for leaving it until after the snow fell.”

  Ewan smiled and shook Nathanial’s hand. He glanced around but failed to see Nathanial’s partner, Karl. “How are things?”

  Nathanial shrugged. “Slow as usual in the winter.” He looked at Ewan with frank interest. “How is Leena?”

  Ewan smiled his understanding, as he had a similar concern about his sister, Sorcha, who he had not seen for a few weeks since the snow fell. “As well as can be expected. I think she hopes her husband will come to his senses.”

  Nathanial glowered. “That is one thing Karl doesn’t have right now.” Nathanial ran a hand through his unkempt blond hair.

  “Where is he? I thought he’d want to beat me senseless for Anna’s actions.” Ewan shared a half-amused, half-serious smile with Ben and Nathanial.

  “We fought last night as well, and I doubt we’ll work together again until this is resolved.”

  Ben’s jaw dropped open. “That’s ludicrous. This is his livelihood.”

  Nathanial’s jaw ticked with anger. “Before he stormed out of the sawmill yesterday, I heard him mutter how this morning he might head to Butte to find work there.”

  “But this is yers,” Ewan argued. “Yers and Karl’s. There, he’d be nothin’ more than hired help.”

  Nathanial nodded. “Ja, but he is very angry that I support Leena over him.”

  Ewan stared around the sawmill. “Ye canna work this place alone, Nathanial.”

  “No, and I’m thankful it’s winter.” Nathanial focused on his friends. “Now, what’s the news?”

  Ewan shrugged. “Little occurs with all this snow.”

  Ben laughed. “Now that the MacKinnons are married, and Sorcha is stuck at the ranch, the townsfolk are famished for gossip. They enjoy speculating about Leena and Karl.” He raised his eyebrows as Nathanial scowled. “For them, their separation couldn’t have occurred at a better time.”

  “Fools,” Ewan muttered.

  The conversation turned to the lumber Ewan and Ben needed for the indoor project they were working on, and Nathanial reassured them he could deliver it in a few days.

  As they left the sawmill, Ewan sat in quiet contemplation, and Ben whistled a song one of the miners had made popular about a man being punched in the face—“Two Lovely Black Eyes, Oh, What a Surprise”—as the sleigh sped along. Ewan shook his head as he imagined all sorts of scenarios for that song title. “Many times in my life … Aye, that should have been me!” He laughed with his good friend and felt his mood brightening along with the sunny day.

  “You should be thankful that wasn’t you today,” Ben said with a chuckle.

  “Aye, well, Leena and Karl must find their own peace. My brothers and I had to. Leena and Karl will too, if he doesna want to lose her.” He winked at Ben. “I look forward to the day a fine woman puts ye to the test.” He laughed as Ben sputtered, and Ewan continued ribbing Ben all the way back into town.

  Chapter 3

  Leena ignored the tapping at the back door for a few minutes, believing it due to the wind rattling the windowpane. However, as it continued, the noise annoyed her, and she wanted to ensure that nothing would break the glass. She peeled away the curtain and gasped as she saw Karl’s face on the other side.

  “Let me in, Leena,” Karl said as he shivered.

  “Not here, Karl,” Leena said as she tugged her shawl around her.

  “Don’t make me freeze out here,” he cajoled.

  “Meet me in the café,” she said with a nod of her head to the side to indicate the nearby establishment.

  He glared but realized he would not gain entrance into the bakery. After a moment he nodded and departed in the direction of the café.

  Leena watched him leave, and she bit her lip before spinning and racing to her small set of rooms.

  She changed from her serviceable day dress that she had worn to work in the bakery earlier into the only good dress she had brought with her. She fingered the fine rose-colored wool before slipping it over her head. She brushed a hand over her head to ensure her hair remained in its tidy braid. Glancing in the mirror, she pulled on her coat, hat and scarf for the short walk to the café.

  The Sunflower Café was owned by Harold and Irene Tompkins. They were two of the original settlers in the area, and their grandsons owned one of the largest ranches in the valley, the Mountain Bluebird Ranch or MBR. Frederick was at the ranch year-round while his brothers traveled from Texas with herds of cattle in the spring and summer months. This winter, his brothers had opted to winter in Texas. The café had a front room with numerous round tables covered in checkered tablecloths, pictures of far-off places tacked to the walls and a door to the kitchen, where Irene ruled supreme. Harold bustled from the kitchen to the tables, taking orders and chatting with the locals and miners as they waited for their food or nursed a cup of coffee.

  When Leena arrived, she saw Karl seated at a back table with few seated around him at nearby tables. She nodded to Harold, who watched her with a curious yet worried gaze as she made her way to her husband. After draping her coat on the back of a vacant chair, she sat.

  Before they could speak, Harold arrived with water and cups of coffee. “There’s stew or fried chicken. Then you can talk to yer hearts’ content. I’ll seat any others toward the kitchen on the pretext it’s warmer there.”

  Leena gave a weak smile of thanks. “Chicken,” she whispered.

  Karl frowned and then nodded to order the same. When Harold left, Karl’s frown deepened. “You used to allow me to order for you.”

  Leena’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Karl, why shouldn’t I order what I want in a café or restaurant?”

  His blue eyes shone with confusion. “Why have you changed?”

  She shrugged and fingered a blue thread coming loose from the blue-and-white checkered pattern on the tablecloth. “I haven’t. I tried to be someone I thought you
wanted.” She closed her eyes. “I acted the way I thought you wanted me to act.”

  He paused for a long moment. “Why?” he whispered. He ignored Harold as he placed two plates of food on the table, focused on his wife, with little interest in food.

  “I wanted to marry.” She raised her eyes to his. “I’ve always liked you, Karl. I thought … I thought you would come to appreciate me the way I am. That you’d like having a resourceful wife.”

  “Is that what you call it?” His eyes now flashed with anger. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire area. I’m the man who couldn’t keep his wife happy after six months of marriage, so she moved out.”

  “Karl,” she breathed, “it has nothing to do with that.”

  “You think my reputation in this town is unimportant? That how I am perceived is frivolous?” He glared at her. “I am seen as less of a man because I can’t control you!”

  She raised a hand to her mouth, but a giggle escaped. Any levity ended when one of his strong hands slapped the top of the table, causing the plates to rattle. “Anyone who looks at you and doubts your manhood is a fool.”

  He flushed and shook his head. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me, Leena.”

  She picked up her fork and ran it through the mashed potatoes. “Do you even care what you’ve done to me? All you seem concerned about is yourself, Karl. And that doesn’t sound like much of a marriage to me.”

  His eyes flashed with anger and then hurt. “You knew what I was.”

  “Yes, as my father wrote me. I knew what you were. An orphaned child, grasping at control so as not to feel so alone and unwanted.” She pushed away her plate. “This conversation is going nowhere. Good night,” she whispered as she spun on her heel, evading his hand that reached out to grab hers.

  Harold stood in front of the exit and herded Leena into the kitchen to an awaiting Irene. “You won’t be disturbed in here, and I think you need time with someone who is sensible.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze before joining the crowd in the café.

  Harold moved to the back of the café, where Karl seemed primed to lunge after his wife. Harold shook his head and pointed for Karl to retake his seat. “You’ve squandered this opportunity. No use putting into jeopardy the next by acting like an idiot another time tonight and making her want to avoid you for two weeks rather than one.”

  Harold sighed as he relaxed a bit after a long day of work and faced the young man filled with restless energy. “You bungled that meeting, Karl.”

  “She was cruel,” Karl whispered, his voice laced with shock and hurt.

  “When a good woman is backed into a corner, she will strike out. I imagine you pushed her until she didn’t know what else to do.”

  Karl scratched at his head. “I want her home, ja? Why doesn’t she understand that?”

  Harold sighed loudly, this time with exasperation, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh, she understands plenty well. Why else would she be living in those cramped rooms behind the bakery rather than with you?” He paused as Karl looked at him in confusion. “What you should be asking is why you’ve acted like a bully and a fool, and what you could do to change.”

  “I am her husband,” Karl snarled. “It’s not manly for her to defy me.”

  “And a fat lot of good that’s done you this past week. How are you liking sleeping in a cold bed with little of substance to eat? How do you like having her scent fade from around you, so that it is elusive, and you chase whatever hint of it you can find?” He nodded as he saw a flush limn Karl’s cheeks. “Do you think less of me for having a working wife?” Harold asked.

  Karl frowned and shook his head.

  “Do you look at me and pity me my wife?” Harold tapped his finger on the table. “Early in my marriage, I was fortunate enough to have the good sense to realize what a gift Irene’s resourcefulness is.”

  Harold leaned forward and spoke with intensity. “You are not Leena’s master. You are not her owner, Karl. If you had any sense, which I’ve begun to fear is in short supply, you’d speak with the MacKinnons or our town lawyer. They are strong men, and no one would ever dare doubt their manliness, but they have equally strong wives. Those men are not diminished because their wives have fulfilling lives outside of their homes.”

  Karl shook his head in confusion. “It is not how it should be done.”

  Harold closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Think about what I’ve said. Think about how your wife reacted to your heavy-handedness. I hope, at some point, you’ll find a way to some middle ground, or you’ll lose your wife forever.”

  Irene motioned for Leena to sit at the table and placed a smaller plate of food in front of her. “I imagine you ate little with your husband, but you must eat.” Irene waited until Leena scooped up small bites of potato before Irene relaxed and sat in the chair across from her. Irene remained quiet until Leena had finished eating.

  “Would you like a slice of cake?” When Leena shook her head, Irene poured her a cup of tea and took a sip from her own cup.

  After many moments of silence, where the murmur of café patrons filtered in and mingled with the sound of the wind blowing outside, Leena sniffled. “I imagine you are disappointed in me.”

  “Then you imagine incorrectly,” Irene said shortly. “Why would I be disappointed, Leena?”

  Leena traced the edge of the teacup and refused to raise her eyes. “I left my home. I left my husband’s home.” She let out a deep breath. “I know that is not an acceptable manner for a woman to act.”

  Irene nodded. “Yes, it is shocking to see a woman behave as you have, although I suspect it is mainly because most women wouldn’t have a place to seek refuge. Unlike you, they don’t have those who would give them a place, and thus time, to determine what they need.”

  Leena swiped at a tear that tracked down her cheek. “Karl is so angry with me.”

  Irene nodded again and gave a small humph sound.

  Leena looked at her friend, her brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not acting as he expected.”

  “Just as I suspect he’s not behaving as you had hoped.” Irene let out a long sigh. “Leena, marriage is a long-term affair. If you are fortunate, the man you marry is a good man and will be with you for years. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have your trials. Your disagreements.” She gripped Leena’s hand. “You have every right to show him what you would like, just as he does you.”

  “I am not acting in a dutiful manner. I should know my place.” Another tear trickled out at the words.

  Irene tapped her fingers on the table in agitation. “I’ve never understood why anyone had to have a place.” She met Leena’s shocked gaze. “You are a good-hearted person, Leena. You have never harmed anyone. You have always worked to help those you cared for, perhaps too much.” She waited for Leena to meet her gaze and to give a small nod. “Why should another determine what you have the right to do if you are not harming yourself or anyone else and if it makes you happy?”

  Leena shook her head.

  “Why should he be upset that men, jealous of his good fortune, are besmirching his name, simply because they hope you will choose them the next time you marry?” She watched as Leena’s eyes rounded in shock. “Always know your adversary, Leena.” She smiled gently. “Don’t allow the gossip and spite of others to influence you or your husband.”

  Leena sat back against her chair, her cheeks flushed. “Why should others imagine I would marry them? I am already a married woman.”

  Irene shrugged. “In the Montana Territory, it is common for a woman to divorce her husband in the hopes of marrying a man who will better provide for her. Divorce is not hard to come by in the Territory.” She saw Leena frown. “Few men would have as much pride as your husband to turn up their nose at a wife who is a talented businesswoman and capable of earning money.”

  “Pride has always been his problem.” Leena scowled into her empty cup.

  “Yes, knitted tog
ether with a lack of confidence where you are concerned. Your leaving did little to make him feel more secure.” Irene looked up to see Harold in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

  “The man’s left. As stubborn as my damn horse, Brutus,” Harold grumbled as he rubbed absentmindedly at his pantaloon bottoms. His horse, Brutus, had a penchant for nipping Harold in the bottom and ripping away strips of fabric. Even though Bears had worked with the colt, Brutus remained half wild.

  “I can’t imagine a single lecture by you would change anyone’s mind,” Irene said with a half smile at her husband’s disgruntlement. “Come. Join us.”

  Harold sat beside Irene and gripped her hand a moment before speaking with Leena. “You have that man of yours tied in knots. And smarting at what you said.”

  Leena flushed beet red and ducked her head. “I never meant to lash out.”

  “But he cornered you, and you felt you had no other choice,” Harold said. He smiled at Leena’s surprise at his understanding. “Your husband is a good man, even if he’s a bit of a bully.”

  “He’s had to be to survive,” she whispered.

  “We all must be at some point. However, now he must learn what he will lose if he doesn’t change his ways. I hope he’s as smart as I’ve always taken him to be.”

  They sat for a few more moments in companionable silence before Leena departed. She smiled her thanks as Harold insisted on escorting her the short distance from the café to the bakery to ensure she arrived safely.

  After she entered the small back rooms, stoked the fire and sat in the rocking chair, she stared into space. Her time tonight with Karl at the café replayed over and over in her mind. Unable to determine what she could have or should have done differently, she finally gave up, banked the fire and climbed under the cold covers. As she hugged a pillow to her chest, she fought tears, wishing Karl’s arms were around her.

  Jessamine poked her head into the bakery the following day, sniffing appreciatively as the scents of cinnamon, ginger, cardamom and almond mixed together. “I should write in your spare room just to enjoy the aroma here,” she said with a smile.