Big deal? Carson looked at the pajamas the other boys were pulling from the paper. They were flannel in complementary plaids and looked just like store-bought pajamas, from what he could tell.
“Your mother made those? As in taking material and thread and cutting out patterns and sewing them?”
“Well, yeah. What did you think I meant?”
He was utterly flabbergasted as he imagined her finding time in her chaotic life to sew four sets of pajamas. His own mother couldn’t even be bothered to go to the Salvation Army to buy him a used Matchbox car but Jenna had painstakingly sewn her four children pajamas.
“Go shower and change into them and come down so I can get a picture. Then we can read,” she said while he was still reeling from the contrast.
“Do you need me to give Jolie her bath?” he asked.
“I think I’ll forgo it and give her one tomorrow. She’s so tired she’s going to be asleep in a minute as it is.”
He nodded and helped change her and dress her in the little red plaid nightgown her grandmother had helped her open.
“I can’t believe you made pajamas,” he said as he pulled the nightgown over Jolie’s curls.
Jenna shrugged. “It’s not really hard. Well, the first time was, but I’ve been making them from the same pattern now for years, except for Jolie’s nightgown, of course. I’ve kind of gotten into a routine.”
She was a wonderful mother. He wanted to tell her so but the words seemed to catch in his throat and he turned his attention back to her daughter.
She took several digital photos of them in various poses by the Christmas tree alone and with their grandmother. He insisted on taking his turn behind the camera so she could be included in the picture as well. That offer earned him a grateful smile, then Jenna pulled out their Christmas book Advent basket.
There were still a couple of other wrapped books left but she focused on a small one that had “Christmas Eve” written on it, as well as Hayden’s name.
“Why does it have my name on it?” the boy asked. “It’s not my turn. I picked one two nights ago, remember?”
“Open it,” Jenna answered with a soft smile.
He looked baffled as he ripped the paper away, then he stared for a long moment at the small black book in his hands.
“It’s Dad’s Bible.” His voice was hushed as he traced his fingers over the embossed gold letters. He looked close to tears and Carson felt a lump rise in his own throat.
“We gave him that when he turned twelve years old,” Pat spoke from the corner, her voice more gentle than Carson had heard.
Jenna’s eyes were moist as well and she pressed her cheek on Jolie’s curls. “You’re ten now. Almost as old as he was when he got it. I think he would have wanted you to have it now.”
Hayden dashed a surreptitious hand against his eyes and straightened his shoulders inside the flannel pajamas his mother had sewn for him.
“Do you want to read the story?” she asked.
“Really? You want me to?”
“Go ahead. Luke Chapter 2.”
He turned the pages as if they were made of spun gold and finally found the right section.
“‘And it came to pass in those days, that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus…’” he began, his voice solemn.
They all sat spellbound, even Drew and the energetic Kip.
Carson had never heard anything as sweetly powerful as this child’s faltering voice reading the story of the first Christmas from his deceased father’s Bible. He had to swallow hard several times as emotions seemed to well up inside him.
By the time the boy read the last word, Carson, who had always considered himself a skeptic, was almost ready to believe in miracles.
He hadn’t dared look at Jenna while Hayden read. Still, when the boy finished, he shifted his gaze and found her wiping away tears. But she gave a watery smile and pulled Hayden close.
“Perfect. Thank you, Hayden. Your dad would have been so proud of you.”
He held the Bible to his chest. “Can I keep it in my room?”
“Yes. I know you’ll be careful with it so your brothers can have their turn to read the story from it in the coming years. All right, everyone. It’s time for bed.”
He might have expected arguments from the boys—it was Christmas Eve, after all—but they were subdued as they headed for the stairs.
“I’m off to bed, too,” Pat said.
Jenna looked at her with surprise. “Are you sure, Mom?”
“I’m tired,” the other woman said, somewhat waspishly. “Been a long day.”
“Of course. Do you need help?”
“Just take care of the kids,” Pat said.
“All right. Merry Christmas, Mom.”
The woman nodded abruptly then shuffled out of the room with her walker.
“I’ll take Jolie,” he said to Jenna when Pat left. She held the girl out and he scooped her into his arms. She wasn’t asleep but she was almost there. Still, she gave him a wide, sleepy smile then rested her cheek against his chest. He pressed a hand on her little back, not at all sure what to do with this wild rush of emotions churning through him.
Jenna hopped up the stairs, putting minimal weight on her ankle. He was loathe to relinquish Jolie so he followed Jenna, the little girl in his arms, as she moved from bedroom to bedroom saying prayers with her boys and giving kisses.
Finally it was Jolie’s turn and he carried her to her pretty pink bedroom. He set the girl in her crib and Jenna came forward to settle her in. He started to slip out of the bedroom but Jolie held her arms out.
“Mister, kiss!”
He froze at the door then returned to the crib and leaned down. Jolie threw her tiny arms around his neck and planted a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.
She might as well have carved out his heart and tucked it under her pillow.
“Night night,” she said.
“Good night,” he answered, his voice gruff.
Jenna smiled at him as if she knew just what he was going through. She kissed her daughter as well, turned on a low music box by the crib, then turned the light out.
She started to hop down the stairs. Carson looked at her for a half second, heaved a long, frustrated sigh and scooped her up as he had Jolie, trying not to notice all over again how perfectly she fit into his arms.
He made it down the stairs in record time and quickly set her down on the couch in the living room.
“Now what?” he asked, his voice abrupt, mostly because it was taking all his energy and attention to keep his hands off of her.
She smiled, though he thought it looked a little strained. “Now we wait.”
“For?”
“For them all to fall asleep, which on Christmas Eve can take forever. But they know Santa can’t come until they’re down.”
She paused and studied him. “Would you like some hot cocoa while we wait?”
He wasn’t a big cocoa drinker. On the other hand, having a mug in his hands might help him keep them to himself.
“I’m just going to check on Pat first before I make the cocoa.”
“Can I do anything?”
“Just relax.”
He nodded and leaned his head against the back of the couch. He had never realized how exhausting the whole family thing could be. He’d been up since before seven when he heard the first stirring from upstairs, and he hadn’t slept that great on the narrow sofa to begin with.
He watched the Christmas tree’s reflection in the window while soft instrumental carols emanated from speakers in the corners and wondered what the hell was happening to him.
He must have dozed off for a moment, though not for long. He woke to the smell of chocolate and the vanilla and cinnamon scent of Jenna.
She stood in the doorway watching him, a funny expression on her face.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured. “You can go back to sleep.”
“No. I’m up.” He straightened, wonde
ring how long she had watched him. “How’s Pat?”
“Fine. She was nearly asleep when I checked on her. I sometimes forget how exhausting the children can be for someone who’s not used to it.”
He didn’t like thinking he might have the same degree of fortitude as a seventy-year-old stroke victim.
“Sit down. Get off your ankle,” he ordered.
She complied with such docile alacrity, he knew she must be hurting. “I left the cocoa in the other room. I was afraid of dumping it all over the carpet if I tried to carry it.”
“I’ll grab it.”
He found the mugs by the stove and had to smile. In typical Jenna style, this wasn’t ordinary hot cocoa out of a packet. It was thick and rich and topped with whipped cream and crushed red-and-white peppermint candies.
He shook his head and carried them both to the living room. Jenna had stretched her foot out on the recliner and he set the cocoa on the small table beside her.
“Thanks.”
This was nice, he thought. Just the two of them and the crackling fire and the Christmas tree. It was too nice. He could feel himself start to weave all kinds of scenarios that mostly involved sweeping her off that chair and into his lap.
“Tell me about what Christmases were like when you were a kid,” he said.
She looked startled but then began telling him about her childhood, about her parents who had spoiled both her and her brother every Christmas, about big, noisy parties with her extended family.
He listened, sometimes interjecting a skillfully crafted question that would keep her going so she wouldn’t ask him about his own Christmas memories.
Some time later, she lapsed into silence. “I’m worse than Kip. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”
“I didn’t mind,” he answered, and it was the honest truth. He loved listening to her stories. She could have been reading a cookbook and he probably would have sat here just as spellbound.
She gazed at him and something changed in her eyes, a soft light that stole his breath. Currents zinged between them and he could feel the inexorable tug of desire stretch and pull between them. His blood turned sluggish and he could hear his pulse in his ears.
Jenna jerked her gaze away and focused on the Christmas tree. “I think they’re probably asleep by now. It’s been an hour.”
Had that much time really passed so quickly? He couldn’t quite believe it.
“I had better check to make sure they’re down,” she said, and started limping for the stairs.
Stubborn woman. “I’ll do it. Stay here.”
He headed back up the stairs and moved from room to room, looking for any sign of activity. Everyone’s eyes were closed, their breathing even. There was always the chance somebody could be faking but he didn’t think so. He spent an extra long time in Kip and Drew’s room, trying to gauge whether Drew might have quickly hid a book under his blanket when he heard footsteps on the stairs, but he couldn’t see anything.
“All snug in their beds,” he told Jenna when he returned downstairs.
“Now the fun begins. I’m afraid you’re going to have to do most of the work.”
She sent him down to the basement several times to bring up all the gifts from her various hiding places, including the gifts he had wrapped the night before.
She sat on the floor by the tree, arranging them all underneath, then filled and hung stockings. The air was filled with the scent of the apple wood fire, with cinnamon from the ornaments, with the sharp, tangy smell of the tree.
“I think that’s everything,” she said some time later, giving careful scrutiny to the room. “It looks just right, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t imagine any four children will have a better Christmas,” he told her with complete sincerity.
Her smile seemed to light up the dark night. After a moment, it slid away but she continued to look at him.
“I have to tell you something,” she said.
He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
After a long moment, she sighed, fretting with the edge of her festive red cast. “I’ve been dreading tonight for weeks. Well, this part of it, anyway.”
He blinked, astonished. She was all over the whole Christmas thing. Everywhere he looked, he saw signs that she had been planning this night for a long time.
“You’ve been dreading it?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I can’t wait for the morning. But I didn’t really want to be alone after the children were in bed for the Santa Claus part. It helped so much to have you here.”
Her smile wavered a little but she straightened it again. “And not just because of the heavy lifting, though I was glad for that, too.”
He ached inside for all she had lost and for the courage it must take her to reshape her family’s traditions without her husband.
“Thank you for letting me be part of it,” he answered.
She said nothing for a moment, then before he quite realized what she intended, she stepped forward and kissed him.
Her mouth was soft and tasted of cocoa and peppermint candies, a delicious combination. He recognized the kiss for what it was, quiet gratitude, and he forced himself to remain still as her mouth moved gently against his.
Emotions swirled around them, wrapping them in the quiet peace of the night, and he wanted this slow kiss to go on forever.
Finally she eased away with a tremulous smile, her green eyes catching the lights flickering in the tree, and he was staggered by her loveliness.
“Good night, Carson. Merry Christmas.”
“Can you make it up the stairs?” His voice came out gruff.
She nodded and made her way to the bottom of the staircase. She looked at him for a long, drawn-out moment, then gripped the rail and hobbled up the steps.
He sat in the living room for a long time after she disappeared upstairs, watching the fire and the tree lights reflected in the window.
He would have to leave the Wheeler house soon. Too many of the protective walls around his heart were tumbling down. He needed time and distance to shore them back up again.
No matter how high the cost.
“Mom! Is it morning? Can we go down yet?”
Jenna groaned and rolled over. In the glow of the hall light, she saw all four of her children—even Jolie, though she looked half-asleep in Hayden’s arms. Jenna was quite certain her brothers had awakened her and dragged her out of bed so they could present a united front.
She looked out the window of her bedroom, where dawn hadn’t even started to dress in her pearly gray colors.
“It’s barely six a.m. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep a little longer?”
“No!” Kip said loudly. “Santa came. I know he did. Can we go down? Please, Mom?”
She supposed she should be grateful they honored the strict family rule that no one was to go downstairs until they all went down, and that was only after she had a chance to light the fire and turn on the Christmas lights first.
She briefly toyed with trying to get them to go back to sleep, but she realized how futile that would be. “All right. Everybody hop in my bed to stay warm while I go down to make sure everything’s ready.”
She quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, grateful all over again that she had showered last night after Jake Dalton had given her permission, as long as she covered her cast with plastic.
As she gingerly made her way into the hallway, she smelled coffee brewing. Downstairs, she discovered Carson wasn’t on the living room sofa and the blankets and pillows he had used were folded up on the edge.
The fire was merrily crackling away and every light on the tree blazed a welcome.
Had he left? she wondered, and was astonished at how bereft the thought left her. But then she heard a low murmur of voices in the kitchen and her mood instantly lifted.
She followed the sound, grateful her ankle wasn’t protesting too strenuously when she put we
ight on it.
In the doorway, she paused, completely astonished at the sight of Pat and Carson sitting at the kitchen table, coffee mugs between them, looking like old friends.
“Morning,” Pat said with her half smile.
Jenna blinked. “Hi.”
“Your mother-in-law and I were just talking about some of our newfangled methods at the ranch. I’m going to give her a tour of the accelerated grazing rotation one of these days. In return, she’s going to tell me how she and her husband ever got anything to grow on that hundred-acre parcel above the fire road.”
Jenna wouldn’t have been more startled if the two of them had been in here line dancing to “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”
“Um, okay,” she finally managed to say. “Well, the kids are awake and are dying to come down. I’m afraid they’re going to break down my bedroom door any minute now.”
Pat chuckled, a rusty sound in the quiet kitchen. “Our Joe was always the same way. He couldn’t stand waiting until his dad set up the old movie camera with the six-bulb flash that just about blinded us every Christmas.”
Jenna touched her mother-in-law’s shoulder and Pat reached a hand up to cover her fingers.
It would be a good day today, she hoped.
They adjourned to the living room, where Jenna gave Carson the video camera duties. With her broken wrist and Pat’s trembling, she figured he would get the best images.
“Mom, can we come down yet?” Drew called from upstairs. She shared a smile with the other two adults.
“You had better,” she answered, “or Santa might decide to come and take all this stuff back to the North Pole with him.”
With shrieks of excitement, the boys stampeded down the stairs and the fun began.
Chapter Sixteen
Christmas morning at the Wheeler house was an unforgettable experience.
It was impossible not to be caught up in the children’s wonder and glee as they opened their presents and exclaimed over each one, from the Lifesaver book in their stockings to the iPod Hayden apparently had placed at the top of his list.
The children gave Jenna small gifts they had made in school and a new sweater and earrings they confessed their Aunt Terri had helped them pick out. They also had gifts for their grandmother, small knickknacks from the dollar store and framed pictures they had painted to decorate her small set of rooms at the assisted-living center.
The Cowboy's Christmas Miracle Page 18