I’ll head that way, Maude predicted, but Lita won’t let me near the pantry, and she’ll come back with maple syrup in one hand and prickly-pear syrup in the other. She started toward the pantry door.
“Two gallons in tins on the bottom shelf on the left in the corner.” Lita knew every inch of that pantry, which could have been mistaken for a small, neighborhood grocery. Maude, on the other hand, had a way of never putting things back in their right places. Lita wiped her hands. “Not to bother, Maude. I’ll get it.”
Maude smiled.
Alo entered through the mudroom with an armload of wood and passed the butler’s pantry on his way to the gathering room. “Hey, Silas, that coffee ready yet? I’m in need of something warm.”
“I’m working on it, friend. But I have a better idea. Maybe we should make a small pot just for us in the kitchen. It’ll be faster. And besides, we prefer it a bit stronger.”
“Sounds good. I’ll join you when I get the fire started.”
By the time Alo had both fireplaces glowing, Silas was pouring stout coffee into their mugs, and the weather report was blaring on the small television in the kitchen. He handed Alo his coffee. “Looks like more snowfall headed our way.”
Alo rubbed his hand over his leathery chin. “Don’t need the meteorologist to tell me we have snow coming. There was a halo around the moon last night. We’ve had snow the last three weekends. Remember when I told you the Gambel oaks were putting on more acorns than usual and the rock squirrels were gathering them like there would be no spring? And the cornhusks were thicker than normal? All signs of a harsh winter. Good that I made preparations with so much firewood.”
“I’m not so concerned about the winter as I am the next few days,” Silas replied. “Lots of folks in this inn have travel plans, and your daughters and their families are trying to get home too. Weather’s not looking so good.”
“When are the guests leaving?”
Maude joined the conversation. “They’re doing their last tours of Santa Fe today, and they’re headed to Taos early in the morning, and then on to Colorado Springs on Friday.”
Alo’s face may be as expressionless as the wooden Indian at the general store down in the village, but he can’t hide he’s worried, she decided. If he’s worried, then we’d better get ready.
“Are you saying it’s going to get worse?” she said aloud.
“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter what I say, the halo around the moon says snow.” Alo set his mug on the counter and reached into his pocket for his gloves.
Silas glanced at him. “Where are you off to now?”
“Best to get more wood stacked closer to the house and under shelter before the wind sets in. It may be still now, but storm’s coming. I don’t want to have to dig through drifts for firewood.”
Lita returned from the pantry with a gallon tin of maple syrup and a small jar. She set them on the counter and nudged Maude with her elbow. “What are you planning today? Going back with the group to Santa Fe?”
“If I know Lily, she’ll ask me to go, and if I know myself, I’ll feel guilty if I don’t. So the answer to your question is probably, but only if you can handle dinner preparation without me.”
“I can handle dinner, but I was thinking of heading into town right behind you. I know my husband, and he knows bad weather’s coming, and I want a full larder just in case.”
“Well, with any luck you won’t need the extra food. But I trust your judgment like you trust his.” Maude buttered the last slice of zucchini bread.
When she heard voices in the gathering room, Maude joined them after putting two pitchers of warm maple syrup on the dining table. “Good morning, Henry and Beatrice. I do hope you rested well.”
Beatrice replied, “Who couldn’t sleep floating on such a mattress and then covered in warm goose down?”
“I’m hoping that means yes?”
Beatrice smiled and nodded.
“What about you, Colonel?”
“I’m a man with a clean conscience, Maude. I sleep well every night.”
“If you’re interested in a glass of juice or a cup of coffee before breakfast, follow me to the butler’s pantry.”
Beatrice took Henry’s arm. “Oh, they have a butler, Henry. I stayed with a family who had a butler in London once. They lived in a castle. It was so cold and damp there.”
Within a few moments, all the guests were gathered and holding mugs of coffee while moving toward the dining table at Maude’s invitation.
Interesting, she noted. They’re taking the same seats as dinner last evening, just like the artists do at retreats. People are so predictable in such unpredictable ways.
When they were all comfortable and chattering, Lita entered the dining room holding a small brass bell. She rang it gently, and their voices quieted. “Good morning. I do hope you had a good rest and that you’re hungry.” She pulled slips of paper from her apron pocket and a fistful of small pencils. “We have a warm and hearty breakfast for you on this blustery morning—blue-corn piñon pancakes with eggs and sausage. And if you prefer, we have Irish oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins and toast made from zucchini bread with pumpkin seeds. Or we have a variety of cold cereal with fruit.” She began passing out the slips of paper with pencils. “Please put your name at the top and check the boxes for your preference, and you’ll be eating your breakfast in a few minutes. There is a basket of fresh-baked breads with honey butter on the table. That should keep you happy while you wait.”
Maude watched in satisfaction as another meal around the dining table at Grey Sage was enjoyed by the Unlikely Christmas Party. Kent asked for more pancakes. Greg made over the prickly-pear syrup and wanted to know where he could buy some. Their plates were all but licked clean when everyone had finished.
Ted Sutton cleared his throat. “Without a television in our rooms, we haven’t been able to hear the news and the weather report.” He turned to Silas. “Can you update us?” he asked.
Silas wiped the last crumble of zucchini bread from his mouth. “Well, it’s cold. Twenty-five degrees earlier, but it’s predicted to get up to thirty-five later in the day.”
“What about the snow?” Ted asked again.
“There’s more snow predicted for later in the day. I think around mid-afternoon and into the evening. But you should be fine through your day in town.”
Lily pulled her clipboard from the bag next to her chair. “Let’s see. I planned for us to visit the Railyard District this morning and the Georgia O’Keefe Museum after lunch with our last stops at the St. Francis Cathedral to see the basilica and the magnificent sculptures of the Stations of the Cross in the Prayer Garden. And of course, the Loretto Chapel is to be our last stop. But the weather . . . Well, maybe the snow will hold off until we’ve finished our tours.”
Ted started the conversation. “Lily, your plans might be a bit much for today. We’ll be outside of the time touring the Railyard District and the Basilica’s Garden. And frankly, I don’t think the snow knows or cares we’re even here.”
Almost before he finished, they’d all chimed in, giving Lily suggestions in line with their own personal preferences and talking on top of each other to make their voices heard. Lily, who lived life fully every day and rarely let circumstances like weather dictate her decisions, was quite perplexed at their responses.
“Look, people,” she said in exasperation. “I’ve planned a remarkable day of opportunities for you, but if you prefer to sit out here at Grey Sage and count snowflakes, we can do that.”
Maude watched with intense curiosity.
No one responded. Finally, the colonel, accustomed to practicing diplomacy and planning logistics, spoke up in his most charming southern accent. “Now, Lily, no one is complaining about your beautiful day of opportunities. It’s just that it’s not a beautiful day, my dear, or did you not look out your window this morning? Perhaps we could modify your plans slightly and spend more time indoors this morning. The temperatures are be
low freezing and not all of us have that Mongolian rug you bought yesterday.” Maude heard several snickers. “Would it be agreeable with you if maybe we chose two indoor activities? Say the Georgia O’Keefe Museum and the Loretto Chapel, and then we could be back here before the snow sets in. I think that fire in the gathering room will be calling my name by then. How does that sound to you?”
The guests mumbled around and finally decided on the Railyard District because much of it was indoors and offered a variety of interests. And then they wanted to see the chapel.
“Well, it’s not everything I planned, but it is more than staring out the window counting snowflakes or pine cones.”
The colonel stood. “So we’re all in agreement then? The Railyard District it is, and then the chapel to see the work of Saint Joseph himself.”
Everyone clapped and stood up from the table. Lily stuffed her clipboard back in her bag and stood up too.
Lita approached. “Here, Lily, try this little brass bell. I think it works very well.” She handed her the bell and prissed away like she’d just won a door prize.
Lily rang the bell. “Listen up, people. Gordy will be here at nine fifteen to take us to Santa Fe. Please meet me in the gathering room.” She looked at the big-faced watch on her arm. “You have about twenty minutes to do whatever it is you need to do before our departure. Need I tell you to dress warmly?”
As the guests left for their rooms, Maude approached Lily. Lily will take all this discussion as harsh criticism. She doesn’t take confrontation well. And the only kind of change she likes is when she decides to make it.
“Wise decision, Lil,” she told her friend. “I think what I heard is that everyone was so satisfied with the day you planned yesterday and their opportunities to see the art on Canyon Road that nothing could disappoint them about changing your plans today. They’re very aware that as good as you are, you don’t control the weather.”
Lily didn’t hide her “I’ve been rejected” look very well.
“Certainly. Would you go with us again today, Maude? I don’t think these people like me anymore. At least you like me.”
Maude put her arm around Lily. “Lily, these people like you. They love you. You’re spending your Christmas helping them make some fantastic memories. Why wouldn’t they love you?”
Ah-ha. Her facial muscles are tightening, and her saggy face is disappearing. She never lets her self-pity last too long.
“You’re right, Maude. They should like me, and they do. But I’d still like you to go with us. Will you?”
“Certainly I’ll go. If nothing else, just to spend some time with you, my friend. I’m assuming you’ll eat dinner here tonight?” Lily nodded, and Maude headed off to the kitchen to speak with Lita.
The colonel was the first guest back in the gathering room, and he joined Silas in the wing chairs at the fireplace. “Well, Silas, you and Maude have made yourself quite a sanctuary here. Surely does have a peaceful presence about it.”
Silas rubbed the palm of his hand on the worn arm of the leather chair. “Thank you, Henry. This is all Maude’s doings. She seems to have the gift of creating beauty out of most anything.”
The colonel looked around the room. “Yes, Maude’s got that artist’s eye—and a gift for not only making things beautiful, but comfortable.”
“Well, thank you, Colonel. She was one determined woman when we bought this place. Insistent on designing and building a structure that, as she said, ‘would rise from this earth and blend with the sky.’”
He paused a moment, remembering back to a time when all was new. “Actually, Alo built this house. About the time Maude finished the design and was ready to begin construction on Grey Sage, I met Alo and Lita when I delivered their second daughter. I found out that Alo was Hopi and that he was an expert in building adobe structures. But more important, he was looking for a job.”
“It would appear Alo is every bit the artist Maude is, in his own way.”
“Oh, yes. When I brought Alo to meet Maude, I remember exactly what Maude said. ‘Grey Sage was meant to be. And you, Alo, will create walls and windows out of these visions in my head and scribbled on these plans.’
“That was the beginning of our lifelong friendship. Alo was on site, working every day to build the walls and rooms from Maude’s sketches. He brought Lita and their two young daughters to the work site. Lita took care of our son and their girls and did the cooking while Alo constructed the place.” He gestured. “Those walls are made of sand, clay, and straw.”
The colonel rubbed his chin. “You don’t say. Back where I’m from, building is a lot different.”
“Oh, I know. And Grey Sage is not the typical design of a Santa Fe pueblo home. Every time Alo thought he was finished, Maude would show him new design ideas. The footprint of the house just kept growing with Maude-designed rooms connected by portales. She wanted a house built for the land, and she said the land called for a larger kitchen with a keeping room and huge fireplace, more bedrooms, open living spaces, four more smaller fireplaces—or kivas as they’re known in these parts—and large windows.
“But the day finally came when the house was finished. And then we surprised Alo with one last project: the building of a casita in the pine break down by the stream that would be their house. Alo and Lita and those little girls of theirs became like family.”
Silas fell silent, remembering. Henry picked up the conversation. “Being a soldier didn’t allow for putting down too many roots, but I understand the ‘friends becoming like family’ part.”
“Oh, they were family and business partners too. Maude and Alo developed quite a reputation around these parts for designing and restoring houses. In between, Maude started teaching art lessons to the children around here. She was living her dream back in those days—painting, designing, and making life magical for our son.”
He noticed the look in Henry’s eye. “What about you?”
“I had a wife like that. Her name was Joy. Always told her that her mother gave her the perfect name. She was a wee thing, like Bea. In fact, I called her Little Bit when I didn’t call her Joy. She was quite a woman, no matter her size. Waited on me while I fought World War Two, and when I got home, we had two babies—a boy and a girl. It pained me to leave her and those babies when I headed off to Korea. But she was strong, taking care of those kids by herself and saying she never, ever doubted I’d come home.”
“Not many women like that in the world.”
“No, not like my sweet Joy. When I wasn’t in combat, that little woman followed me to military stations all over this world, and she made a home out of every dump where we had to live. And, oh, how she made over holidays! American holidays and the holidays of every country where we were stationed. Sarah and George went to school on base, but it was Joy who really educated them. She was always reading to them and taking them places to see the local culture. And back then, transportation and communication weren’t so easy. But the kids grew up and made some fine adults and gave me some grandkids.”
Silas was almost afraid to ask. “Where are your kids now?”
“Well, Sarah’s in heaven with her mother. She got breast cancer and died at thirty-seven. Grieved her mother so much. Then Joy died two years later with a heart attack. I think losing Sarah just broke her heart in too many pieces.”
“I understand that broken heart. Maude’s strong, but she’s never been the same since . . . since our son, Elan, died.” He noted the understanding that broke across Henry’s face. “Yes, seems like we have something in common, Henry.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m glad you have some grandchildren. We didn’t have that blessing.”
“They are a blessing. My son, George, has two, and Sarah left two little girls behind when she died.
“Sorry you had to go through all that, Henry. I can imagine with your distinguished military career, death is no stranger to you.”
Henry stared at the fire. “No, it’s no stranger, but always an unwel
come one. Don’t think you ever get over missing somebody you love.”
“What about your son?”
“Oh, my son. George is my pride and joy. Still think of him as a freckle-faced little boy, but he’s about to retire. He’s been running a US mining operation in Indonesia for the last twenty years. His kids are grown now with children of their own, and they wanted to spend this last Christmas all together in Tembagapura since George and Vera will be coming home for good in March.”
Silas was curious. “You didn’t want to make the trip?”
“Oh, I would have enjoyed it. Been there several times. But I made this promise to my buddy Carl that I’d look after Bea. He’d done some favors for Joy and me through the years, so it was time I obliged.”
“I see.”
“And it’s a long trip. Not as bad as those flying tin cans that used to transport me, but it’s still a long trip for these aching bones of mine.” He looked up from the fire into Silas’s face. “What about you? Any other children you’re going to see this Christmas?”
Silas hesitated. “Elan was our only child. He would have been forty, just in the prime of his life, but he died when he was almost seventeen.”
“So sorry. Nothing quite like losing a child. What was his name? Elan?”
“We named him Elan Hamilton Thornhill. He was born about a year after we moved into Grey Sage. That was back when it was just the small cottage. I wanted to carry on the family tradition with the middle name Hamilton, but I told Maude to name him. She decided on Elan. It’s an American Indian name. Means ‘friend of all.’”
“Interesting. He must have been a great young fellow with you two as parents and growing up here at Grey Sage.”
“He was, and his mother named him appropriately, just like Joy’s mother named her. Elan never met a stranger, and he had this spirit about him, always wanting to take care of people and things. It was that spirit that took his life, though. He . . . tried to rescue a rock climber. Saved the climber, but Elan . . .” Silas stumbled. He still had trouble saying it after all these years. “Elan fell to his death.”
Christmas at Grey Sage Page 6