Robyn might say and act like she disliked wearing the garment, but she still wore it. Probably for Birdie who’d made the outfit with care and affection but couldn’t see what Robyn wore right now.
Birdie sneezed and rubbed her nose below the blindfold covering her eyes.
“Are you catching a chill?” Jack asked worriedly.
“No, I’m—”
“Trying to steal peek?”
“No,” Birdie said laughing. “I’m trying to survive the dust. Is this part of the surprise?” She sniffed the air. “Your shop smells different.”
“That’s because—” Jack’s jaw dropped as he surveyed the empty room.
Their early morning scramble to removing everything had raised a haze.
“Because what?” Birdie demanded.
“He can’t say,” Max answered. “The dust is part of the surprise.”
“We wanted Christmas surprises for both of you,” Robyn added.
Late last night, when they’d met Jack in this room to relay a report on the house, the shop had been full. Jack had told them not to worry about moving anything here. That he’d deal with it later. He’d thanked them profusely for all their hard work and urged them to get some sleep.
After Jack had gone back to Birdie, they’d both agreed they wanted their work to be as complete as possible. So, transporting this room’s contents had become their morning task. That and one item from upstairs. They hadn’t dared do more and make a noise in the hall that might give away their surprise.
“Merry Christmas,” Robyn said at the same time as he did.
Which made him smile. And finally, she smiled with him. When she did, the fatigue etching her face eased. He prayed the tension between them would wane as well.
“And a Merry Christmas to the two of you.” Birdie’s grin turned into a pout. “But is carrying me wherever we’re headed really necessary?”
“Doc Deane said complete bed rest. So, it’s either a mattress or my arms.” Jack pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his wife’s raven-haired head. “Besides, you’re carrying two very important packages right now, so it’s only right that I carry you.”
Birdie laughed, and her hand went from the bundle wrapped in red cloth she held to her rounded belly.
Max opened the door for them to go out. Then he grabbed his own bundle, waited for Robyn to retrieve hers and closed the door behind them. With his sack slung over his shoulder like Saint Nicholas, he followed Robyn who followed Jack.
Jack barely limped as they walked single file down a path tramped in the snow by the many helpers who’d come and gone this way yesterday. Bless them and the entire town. They’d helped turn Jack’s dream gift for Birdie into a fully formed reality.
When their group came through the trees, his gaze raced up the footpath to the house. As always, the structure’s perfect symmetry framing the front door called to him like a warm welcome to enter. If one could resist the wide covered porch that promised as many pleasant moments outside as might be found inside.
A familiar, thin but wiry figure rose from his seat on the steps. Grandpa Gus shoved a lumpy object under his coat. When he rushed forward to stand in front of Jack, who’d halted with Robyn and Max beside him, the tips of a pair of knitting needles protruded from their hiding place. Same as they had the morning after Max arrived in Noelle. After Gus had found Max’s abandoned needles in Peregrines’ Post.
“Why have we stopped?” Birdie asked.
At a nod from Jack, Gus removed her blindfold, then stepped back with a grand sweep of his arm to reveal the house and holler, “Surprise! We made something for you.”
“You made me a…” Tears spilled from Birdie’s eyes. “Un nid.”
Robyn’s alarmed gaze searched his. “What’s a nid?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t a clue.
“A nid is a nest. Une maison et une—” Birdie shrugged as well, then laughed. “Maison. A house and a home are the same word in French but sometimes so different in life.”
“So…you like it?” Jack asked.
“Oui! But like is too little a word. Your gift is incroyable et fantastique et—” She paused only to draw in a quick breath then said on a sigh, “Absolutely perfect.”
“It will be soon.” Jack cradled her closer. “I’m going to make everything better.”
“You always do. Merci.” Birdie kissed his cheek then looked at Gus then Robyn and Max. “Thank you all very much.”
“Let’s get you inside and out of the cold.” Jack hurried up the steps.
Birdie craned her neck to see the porch above and around her. “When did you have time to create all of this?”
Jack slipped through the open doorway. “I built the foundation months ago. Then the bridge was blown up, the railroad was delayed, and I was swamped with freight runs. Only since the track’s completion and folks now using it for shipments, have I had time to work here again.”
“It must’ve been difficult to keep this large a secret,” Birdie murmured.
“He didn’t even tell me,” Gus grumbled.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” When Jack carried Birdie straight into her dress shop room, their group parted ways to give them some privacy.
Gus disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen while Max and Robyn took their sacks into Jack’s carpentry room.
As they unloaded the last items, Birdie’s delighted but muffled words grew loud with amazement. “C'est pas possible! Your shop is just across the hall? That’s beyond perfect.”
“That’s what I thought,” Robyn whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
Jack came into the room still carrying Birdie. His expression turned as astounded as his wife’s. “You not only moved my shop, but you set it up?”
Max leaned back against a workbench and surveyed the room. “Most likely we put everything in the wrong place. It’ll take some effort to reorganize.”
“But it’s work I can tackle at home with Birdie near. Thanks to you.”
“It’s the least I could do after being away for so long.” He raked his fingers through his hair. Its tangled mess felt a lot like Jack’s hair always looked. He’d left Noelle because he wanted to be his own man. And he’d done that. He’d changed. But now? How could he, after only a few days back in Noelle, be starting to not only act but look like his brother again?
“Well, you’re here now.” Birdie said. “And that’s the best gift of all.”
“Yes, but I still need to ask if he’ll—” Birdie’s elbow in Jack’s ribs halted him.
“It’s Christmas,” she said. “That discussion can wait until all of the gifts are given.”
Max gestured down the hall. “There’s more waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Jack heaved a sigh of defeat or at least deferment, then raised his chin as he inhaled deeply. “I can smell the feast from here.”
The delicious scents made Max stand tall as well.
Once again, Jack led the way. “How did you find time to cook, move Birdie’s shop and mine, and finish the house?”
“My brother, Brynmor, did the cooking.” Robyn’s voice suddenly sounded twice as tired as before. She trudged like a crusader who’d walked too long and too far and doubted her destination or what she’d previously held sacred. “Just as he’s always done wherever we’ve lived or set up camp.”
She’d told him many times how relieved she and her brothers had been to settle in Denver, to have a home no matter how humble, to not have to move again. Then she’d left all of that to come here. So, had her brothers.
“I didn’t make today’s meal all on my own,” Bryn muttered as he placed a steaming pot of cawl soup on the table, then strode back to the stove for the roast lamb. “I had help.”
Gus licked his lips and hovered close to the bounty. “Turns out Lark is Brynmor’s match in the kitchen.”
Bryn didn’t say more, and Lark didn’t say anything. They simply worked together, bringing the last of the dishes of cottag
e pie and sugared Welsh cakes to the table. Their actions reminded Max of his and Robyn’s silently stiff partnership this morning, which had seemed to get even tenser as they’d taken the final steps to reach this kitchen.
When he circled the table so he could see her expression, he found her frowning at Heddwyn and Griffin.
Hedd scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “We tried to help.”
“But it’s hard to know how,” Griff griped, “when people won’t say much.”
When Bryn shot them a quelling glare, his brothers folded their arms stubbornly but also defensively.
“All we’re saying,” Hedd muttered, “is that if anything’s burnt, blame the master chef not us.”
“Everything smells and looks too delicious to be burnt.” Jack smiled reassuringly at them. “Thank you all for this wonderful gift.”
“Yes, and thank you, Lark,” Birdie added, “for being here today. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you as well,” Lark said quietly but without hesitation.
“We better eat before the food gets cold.” Gus recited a swift but heartfelt prayer of thanks, then thrust plates into Lark’s and Bryn’s hands and started filling one for himself. “Cooks ’n old-timers should eat first.”
“Why is there a bed by the table?” Birdie stared as if bewildered at the one item Robyn and Max had moved from Peregrines’ Post’s second floor this morning. The bed from Max’s old room.
Before nightfall, they would, hopefully, have moved everything else from upstairs. Right now, everyone needed to eat, including Birdie who could do so reclining on the bed in the kitchen. Jack had been insistent that she have the complete bed rest the doctor ordered.
“It’s your throne, milady,” Hedd said with a wink. “Now you really have the perfect perch to be Hen who Rules the Roost.”
“I’ll never get used to this pampering,” Birdie replied. “This really is too much.”
“There’s no such thing when we’re together,” Jack murmured close to her ear as he set her carefully on the bed. His hands lingered near her, arranging her pillows and blankets.
For the first time since he’d arrived in Noelle, Bryn’s voice resumed its deeply protective and nurturing tone as he said, “Tell me what you like, Birdie, and I’ll bring your food to you.”
The Llewellyns visibly relaxed as their big brother’s manner regained some normalcy. Hedd and Griff even started whistling a surprisingly harmonious Christmas carol. Relief made Max hum along.
They all needed a respite from their work and their worries. He’d let Robyn eat then he’d…ask her to sit on the porch with him. That serene spot would be the best location for nurturing a conversation that might also get them back to normal. And if not, then they could sit and say nothing. They’d at least be together.
He filled a plate for Jack knowing what he liked, and gave it to his brother at the same time Bryn presented Birdie with her food.
When Jack held out his hand to Bryn, the Welsh giant shook it firmly.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Big Hill.” Without waiting for an answer, Jack glanced around Bryn’s broad bulk and called to Griff, “And you too, Ruddy.”
Griff gave him a brisk salute. “Thanks for making us feel right at home, Busy Bee.”
When Bryn shot his baby brother a questioning look, Griff thrust his chin at Hedd and went back to eating.
Hedd’s chest puffed up proudly. “I came up with the name all on my own and only a few minutes after meeting him. Busy Bee was so impressed he made me a chair.”
Jack frowned as his gaze swept the number of seats in the kitchen. “I should’ve made more for out here. I didn’t plan this all that well.”
There were only six chairs and nine of them. With Birdie on the bed and Jack now claiming a seat on the floor closest to her, they were short just one.
So, Max sat on the floor next to his brother and gestured for Gus and their guests to take the chairs. Which unfortunately resulted in Robyn sitting much too far away from him. He consoled himself by pondering his plan to talk to her on the porch before she went to the Christmas party.
He shook his head. No, that event was still a few hours away, and a lot could happen between now and then. Like, he hoped, her deciding not to go.
Birdie brushed her fingers through Jack’s wild hair. “You can’t plan for everything, my very Busy Bee.”
“Truer words were never spoken.” For the first time since they’d entered the kitchen, Bryn finally turned his gaze toward his sister. “How have your Noelle plans been going, Rob?”
Her spoon hit her plate. She caught it before it struck the floor. She also caught herself in mid-curse and said in a primly polite voice, “Pardon me. What I meant to say was…if nothing else my plans to learn to dance have been achieved. Thanks to Max organizing my lessons and Fina’s expert instructions.”
Robyn’s stilted speech confounded Max until he remembered she’d undertaken conversation lessons with the Noelle women the day before yesterday. That might explain her formal language but not the stiffness in its delivery.
Bryn’s shoulders hunched. “I should’ve taught you long ago.”
“Yes, you should have,” Robyn replied briskly.
Griffin paused devouring a Welsh cake to ask, “How could he teach you something he doesn’t know how to do?”
“He knows.” Robyn’s voice had grown colder than a storm circling a mountain.
“No, he doesn’t. He’s never—” Hedd’s confident expression turned wary.
“What aren’t you telling us, Rob?” Griff demanded.
“It’s what Bryn hasn’t been telling us.” Her steely blue gaze shot daggers at her eldest brother. “Fina said you were an excellent dancer. Yesterday wasn’t your first lesson, was it?”
Bryn hung his head. “Lark taught me in Cheyenne.”
“So, you could’ve taught me in Denver,” Robyn shot back. “But you didn’t. Why?”
“I didn’t want to…” He shrugged. “Remember how I learned.”
“You’d rather keep secrets,” Robyn muttered. Her shoulders hunched as she glowered at her plate.
“Apparently, we all would.” Bryn’s gaze darted in Lark’s direction. He still wasn’t talking to her, but at least he’d said something about her. And not unkindly. That was a start.
Unfortunately, it was also an end.
Bryn’s revelation terminated not only the Llewellyns’ conversation but everyone’s. They finished eating in silence. Then they washed their plates and put everything away.
The quiet helped Max rally his hopes and plans for Robyn. Now is the time. Fortune favors the bold. He who hesitates is lost. He shook his head. He was not only becoming more and more like his brother, but like Gus who gave endless advice.
Stop rambling and ask her to talk to you out on the porch.
Chapter 13
Chagrin for being angry with Brynmor kept Robyn’s gaze downcast. First on her plate, then on the many plates she helped wash. So what if Bryn had withheld the fact he could dance? In the grand scope of things, it was minor. In her relationship with her eldest brother, it was life altering. Bryn had always been her most steadfast champion. Of her brothers, he tormented her the least and aided her the most.
He didn’t deserve her surliness. None of her brothers did. They, the Peregrines and even Lark, deserved better. Lark had taught Bryn to dance. Bryn who had never showed any romantic interest in a woman. Until Lark who’d won Bryn’s heart and then broken it.
She needed to find out why. Bryn had always taken care of her. It was time for her to take care of him and make up for her antagonism. She raised her gaze to find Max standing close beside her with a determined look on his face.
The familiar expression cheered her as much as one of his smiles or the sound of his voice or— When he opened his mouth to speak to her, her heart raced with anticipation.
“Don’t go anywhere.” Jack’s order stopped whatever Max had been about to s
ay.
He glared over his shoulder at his brother.
Oblivious to Max’s crossness, Jack smiled at Birdie in the same adoring way she smiled at Jack as she said, “We have gifts to give.”
Robyn forced herself to smile with them. Don’t be surly. Not to them. Not to anyone. Her cheeks began to ache. Being polite and cheerful was as tiring as wearing a dress.
Jack pulled the red cloth bundle that Birdie had carried from Peregrines’ Post, from behind Birdie’s bed. He set it on her lap then scooped her up, blankets and all.
Birdie’s eyebrows arched in disbelief as he carried her to the closest person who happened to be Max. “You don’t have to cart me everywhere. Max could’ve come to us.”
“He already has,” Jack said. “He made the journey from Denver and he still hasn’t had his holiday.”
Max snorted a laugh. “I can’t fault you for seizing any reason or opportunity to hold your wife.” His gaze went to Robyn and a myriad of expression flashed, too fast to identify, across his face.
Whatever he was thinking, he left her breathless.
“Max?” Birdie’s voice drew his gaze from Robyn to Birdie.
She held out a multi-colored Christmas ornament swinging on a velvet loop.
When he held it on his palm, they both stared at the gift in confusion. Then she smiled again. At the gift’s plump body, pointed nose and tail, beaded eyes, and teardrop shaped…wings. Birdie’s gift was a small bird made of fabric. An ivory bird with blue wings wearing a jaunty yellow cap.
“Sorry we didn’t have time to wrap them,” Birdie said as she handed a bird to Robyn.
“We were still making them this morning.” Jack carried his wife to Gus and she gave him a bird from her bundle.
“Well, ain’t they the sweetest little— Wait. Did you say we?” Gus challenged.
Jack grinned. “Your passion for new projects inspired me to also try something new.”
Lark gasped when Birdie handed her a bird next. “You made one for me?”
“Of course.” Birdie gave ones to Bryn, Hedd, and Griff as well.
“And she made them look good,” Jack said proudly. “I made—” He laughed. “The biggest parts. Not that anything about them is all that big. But the bodies are at least easier to stitch than the tiny eyes and detailed wings and hats.”
Robyn- A Christmas Bride Page 11