Hat's Off! (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by Nancy Shew Bolton

  “Bet you can’t do that again,” one of the lumberjacks shouted.

  Wilbur countered, “Oh, yes. I can.” Kay’s eyes widened as Wilbur flipped a burger high above him, spun on his heel in a complete turn, and caught the patty on his spatula before depositing it on a bun. He turned a wide grin on the gawking men, and some of the patrons broke into clapping.

  Bessie stood, stubbed out her cigarette and proclaimed, “A lot harder to rope the steer that made that there hamburger meat. But it’s a mighty cute trick.” She nodded at Wilbur and strode out the door.

  Kay giggled to herself at Bessie’s amusing observation. Wilbur deposited a kiss on Anna, and his wife’s cheeks reddened while she gave him a shy smile. A twinge of melancholy twisted through Kay. She glanced away and focused on the newly delivered treat on the table in front of her.

  The bites of doughnut made Kay’s eyes close. How did Anna get the flavor so perfect every time? Kay liked cooking up sweet treats, but sometimes, was too lavish with spices. It didn’t seem right that if a spice tasted good in a certain amount, it ruined a treat if too much was added. Maybe she simply lacked the talent for cooking.

  Elliot hadn’t minded her inconsistent results, laughing with her at the failed products of a recipe, cheering her with a hug and kisses while they fed the offending meal to the dog and fixed French toast for dinner instead. The memory made her smile for a moment before sadness overtook her and the enjoyment of her treat faded.

  She stared down at her half-eaten doughnut and partial cup of tea. Leaving some coins on the table, she shrugged her coat on and left. Something went wrong inside her ever since Philip told her she could do more than she thought. Why on earth would that statement cause turmoil? Her emotions were as tangled up as the contents of the ragbag.

  The wind whipped a chilly path across her heated face while she scurried back toward the tailor shop. Bessie drove a loaded wagon down the street, handling the horses with ease and giving Kay a nod as she roared past.

  Could I do that? Is it one of the things I don’t think I can do?

  She tried to imagine herself driving a team of horses, or riding bareback, or shooting a pistol. The outlandish images sparked a strange exhilaration and made her laugh out loud. What an awkward cowgirl she’d probably make, but picturing it was fun. Maybe Bessie would teach her. She grinned at the thought.

  Angry shouts down the street across from her caught her attention. Aaron stood, his legs planted and chin up, facing down someone who yelled and pointed at him. The man shoved Aaron’s chest, and quick as a flash, he punched the man, who landed on his behind in front of Aaron. Kay gasped and stared. Was Aaron drunk again?

  A few men surrounded the two, and the man who Aaron hit reared up and tried to get to him, but the others held him back. Philip issued out from the tailor shop and stood next to Aaron, talking with him. She heard rumbles and barks of comments from the group as they moved off. Philip and Aaron walked into the store.

  Kay hurried across to the front door and took a deep breath before she entered.

  “…not going to let some rabble rouser say that about our townsfolk without—” Aaron’s voice broke off after she stepped in.

  Philip cleared his throat and gave Aaron a nod. “I agree. We don’t need any more of that talk.”

  Philip reached to a shelf above him and retrieved Patrick’s finished top hat. “I’ll put this in a box. Tell Patrick we’re very happy with the results. Hope he feels the same.”

  Kay turned to hang up her coat and hat, nerves spiking up her spine when Philip left the room. She took her seat at the desk and kept her eyes away from Aaron. Who knew what sort of mood he might be in?

  Aaron’s quiet voice broke the stillness. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Nice day.”

  She busied her hands at her thread drawer, rearranging the already orderly colors. “Yes. A bit chilly, though.”

  “When the wind blows. Makes me glad for my sheepskin coat.”

  She glanced up to meet his friendly, studied gaze. How blue his eyes were today. No redness at all. Nerves tightened her throat and she nodded and went back to fidgeting with her spools of thread.

  “I was thinking—”

  He broke off when Philip entered, holding the box toward him. “Here you go. Tell Patrick if it needs any adjusting, tell me right away. Only a week until the wedding.”

  “Will do.”

  Aaron turned, shot a serious glance at Kay, and left. His unspoken sentence hung in the air. What was he “thinking”? Did it have anything to do with her? Why else would he say it in that careful way and stop short as Philip came in? Maybe she ought to stop thinking so much and get to work. He was probably going to make another comment about the weather, anyway.

  She sighed and glanced at the window. Aaron stood outside and held her gaze for charged seconds before he walked out of sight. Though she wanted to rise and watch him making his way down the street, she sat still, trapped within the confusing experience of the strange silences passing between them.

  She turned her attention to Philip and made her voice sound light and conversational. “I saw the fight Aaron got in. What was that all about? Something political, right?”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced up to meet his studying expression. He said, “If you want to know, you should ask him.”

  He turned away and she made a silent grimace at his back. Men were so annoying. Of course she wanted to know. Why else would she ask him? But she’d probably never find out if it meant asking Aaron. She hardly knew him.

  Chapter Five

  Stupid.

  Aaron mentally kicked himself while he walked down the street.

  Don’t do it.

  He knew Kay had once been happily married. Best to leave her to her memories and not trouble her with his. But images of her kept bothering him, intruding on quiet moments. That slap she’d given him jolted something right through to his insides. Mild interest gave way to increasing thoughts of her and unwelcome curiosity about what she kept hidden inside those intriguing eyes of hers.

  His usual satisfaction in his outdoor tasks and their comforting rhythm now became interrupted with flashes of her face, eyes, and expressions. The healing vistas of rangeland and mountains were no longer the only balm he wanted. She’d awakened a need, a desire to take part in life again. Her life.

  Nothing good would come of it. For her or for him. He shook his head and heaved in a weary breath.

  Stupid.

  * * *

  Why did she say she’d attend Patrick’s nuptials today? Last night, her dreams were full of her own ceremony. And her wedding night. The memories of Elliot’s touch woke her up, her heart racing, desperate to go back into the dream and be with him again. Moments like that were all she had left of him. And they never lasted long enough.

  When he made it home from the War, her happiness was limitless. She was sure they’d enjoy a long, happy life together. And in months, the horrible world-wide influenza swooped down to claim him. Gone in a short space of anguished days. She watched him cough and struggle, his breathing shallower as the force of his life guttered out like a dying flame. Her only comfort lay in the peace he’d shown at the end, his expression placid as his breaths ceased, taking all her dreams away with him.

  Desolation claimed her. She could do nothing but cry, and afterward, walk through her existence in a daze, most of her life gone right along with his. Mother had to force her out of wearing black clothes after two years, making her wear a new outfit to church, topped with a bonnet adorned with spring flowers whose bright beauty only made her wish for the past with a vengeance that hurt like fire in her vitals.

  At home in her room, she yanked the lovely blooms from the hat and crushed them under her feet, then fell to her knees, handling the broken pieces and sobbing until she lost all her strength and crawled onto her bed. Philip came in later, took her hand, and told her Elliot would be unhappy with her years of melancholy.

  “He’d want you to make a
life again, find some happiness.”

  Kay shook her head, tears streaming down. “I can’t. I don’t want to. I don’t know how anymore.”

  “Maddie and I are going to Oregon and will open a shop there. After we get settled, we want you to come.”

  What did it matter where she was? But Philip and Maddie kept insisting, their letters full of descriptions of the beauty of eastern Oregon. And here she was, dressing up for Patrick and Romayne’s wedding, dreading the happy expression on their faces when they stepped down the aisle as husband and wife.

  I can’t do it.

  I have to. I said I would.

  She pressed her lips together and squared her shoulders. Smoothing her dress, she left her room to go downstairs for her coat and hat.

  Maddie gave her an appraising look and nodded. “Such a nice color on you. The pink matches your cheeks.”

  Kay smiled at her sister-in-law. “You and Phil are pretty fancy, too.”

  Philip bowed. “Why, thank you. Shall we go, ladies?”

  Freshly fallen colorful leaves skittered along the ground, while the sunshine beat back the chill of the slight wind. Kay’s spirits lifted as they ambled to the church. Maybe she’d be fine and only experience the joy of the ceremony. After all, she was happy for the young couple.

  They entered and hung their wraps, finding seats near the back. Kay settled in the pew, sadness threatening below the surface of the bright expression she painted over it. She took in some steadying breaths and let her gaze travel the crowd. So many fancy clothes and hats were on display, everyone decked out in their Sunday best. Patrick stood at the front of the church, talking with the minister.

  Aaron was near him, wearing an expression she’d never seen on his face before. He was smiling. Not a polite or slight smile, but an actual beaming grin of honest delight as he laughed at some remark the minister made to him and Patrick.

  The sight hit her with such surprise, the creeping dread of sadness lifted into a light sensation, almost of enchantment, as though she’d just glimpsed a rainbow. How different he looked, as though he were someone new. And how handsome.

  She averted her eyes before he caught her staring at him and bent her head toward Maddie. “Why is Aaron standing with Patrick? Is he the best man?”

  Maddie nodded. “Patrick didn’t want to choose between his two brothers, and since all of them are friends with Aaron, he decided to ask him to be his best man.” Her voice lowered into a whisper. “I think also it’s because Aaron has no family, and Patrick wants him to feel like part of theirs.”

  Kindness always undid Kay, and she fought back a threat of tears at the news of Patrick’s generous spirit. How wonderful people could be. She swallowed and focused her attention on the assembled crowd, playing a mental game of noting every person wearing a hat that was produced in their shop.

  The diversion worked to calm her emotions, and she made it most of the way through the ceremony before tears threatened again. When Patrick and Romayne shared their first married kiss, the tears spilled over, and her breath caught in her throat. Plenty of other women were dabbing hankies under their eyes, too, so Kay let herself cry a bit as Patrick and Romayne walked down the aisle, their faces beaming.

  Her eyes closed, and she pulled in a shaky breath, fighting despair with hope. Perhaps they’d share a long life together.

  God, let it be so.

  * * *

  Aaron studied Kay from across the reception hall. Maybe he should ask her to dance. Her eyes were sad as she viewed couples gliding around the room. Philip and Maddie rose to dance, and now, Kay was all alone at the table. Her brave, forlorn face spurred him toward her.

  He fought down a wave of awkwardness and made his way to her. He smiled at her. “Care to dance?”

  By her expression, he couldn’t figure out if she wanted to or not. Kay gave him a slight nod and stood. He propelled her across the floor to the sedate strains of a waltz, concentrating on the movement of his feet. Her hand was small and cool in his. He needed to think of something to say.

  “Not much of a dancer, am I?” He met her eyes and read raw pain in them.

  Her lips trembled and she opened them, then clamped them shut, shot a wild glance toward the area behind them, and rushed away from him. Embarrassment flooded him while he gave a quick scan of the room. People kept dancing, and nobody met his eyes. Maybe they didn’t notice.

  He backed off the dance floor, noting Kay’s rushed progress toward a far hallway. He followed. She halted at the back corner near a closed door, her face buried in her hands. Aaron swallowed hard when he drew close and viewed the sad sight of her trembling shoulders. Maybe he should leave her alone.

  The sound of her muffled sob compelled him to speak. “I’m awful sorry you’re so sad.”

  She stretched a hand toward him as if to ward him away. He stepped closer and took her hand, clasping it with a firm hold. Her surprised, wet eyes locked with his, and she let him pull her against him.

  She melted into him as sobs shook her. He held her and closed his eyes. How long had it been since he was this close to anyone? Or to someone who really needed him? He breathed in the delicate scent of her hair and gave gentle pats to her back. Something settled down inside him, and an unfamiliar sensation of peace stole through his mind and body. He smiled.

  * * *

  Kay’s awareness of him intruded as the storm of her crying ebbed and she remembered where she was. A large part of her wanted to stay connected to his strength, the comforting feel of his arms circling her, and the rise and fall of his chest underneath her cheek.

  Memories of being held this way swirled inside and pulled her in like a whirlpool. If only she’d raise her head and Elliot could be there, his eyes full of love, welcoming her back from the long nightmare of living without him. But it would never happen.

  Resignation brought her fully to reality, and she detached herself from Aaron. Unable to meet his gaze, she fumbled for her handkerchief and dabbed her face while waves of embarrassment gripped her.

  She cleared her throat and managed to croak, “Thank you for helping me. I…I’m…well, thank you.”

  The poor man said nothing in reply. He was likely as embarrassed as her. She darted a quick glance at him, noting his confused expression. She needed to find a way to help him leave gracefully, but couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the reception.

  She straightened up a bit and smiled. “Would you mind bringing me my wraps? They’re on the second to last peg nearest the chairs for the guitar players. Dark blue coat and scarf.”

  He nodded and walked away. She relaxed once he moved off, figuring he probably did also. What an uncomfortable situation she’d created for both of them. She smoothed her hair and dress and took in some even, steadying breaths. She tried not to stare at him as he approached with her items in hand.

  He held her coat open, and she shrugged into it, fastened the buttons with speed, and donned the scarf. “Thank you so much. I’ll just slip out this door. Would you mind telling Phil and Maddie that I’ve gone home?”

  He returned her gaze with an intent expression. “I should walk you there first.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, don’t bother. It’s so close, and I’m sure you’d rather enjoy the reception.”

  His lips parted as though he’d speak, but he paused and closed them. She waited for an awkward moment, then gave him a quick nod and took her leave. She gulped in some of the frigid outdoor air and hustled away from the building. All she wanted now was to go home and be alone. And not think about anything. Or anyone.

  Chapter Six

  Well, Kay was really in the soup now. Jumbled dreaming kept her wakeful through the night, with one recurring theme.

  Aaron.

  And the disturbing sensation of betrayal to Elliot whenever she woke up, remembering the strong flashes of attraction in the dreams. How much she wanted to touch Aaron’s face, fall into his embrace. Kiss him.

  Was she really so horrid
? So disloyal? What would Elliot think of her? The thought created a powerful tide of despair, and she cried into her pillow, grasping fistfuls of it as she wept. Why couldn’t she be free of feeling anything? She wished she’d become as blank as water, or a stone. Or float like a dandelion seed and never come to ground.

  If only she’d be strong and resolute. The way Bessie Daniels was. Stick her chin up and barrel through life and stop all this useless crying and pining. Her tears slowed. Maybe she could. Phil’s words came to mind. “You can do a lot more than you think you can.”

  She let the thought sink in, and a surge of optimism left her despair behind. She sat up and swept the tears off her face with quick flash of her hand, then squared her shoulders and nodded.

  That’s it.

  Time to be a different Kay. Plant her feet and stand up straight.

  That’s what I’ll do.

  Comforted, she breathed out a long sigh and lay back down. Now, all she needed to do was figure out how. And what to do about Aaron.

  * * *

  Aaron and Fergus listened to Patrick’s younger brothers outlining the fence damage caused by the latest storm. The two were worn out from days of riding the line, and once they finished their report, Fergus shooed them away, ordering them to get some food and rest.

  Aaron eyed Fergus and shook his head. “You stay here. I’ll go.”

  “We’ll both go.” Fergus shot out a palm before Aaron could argue. “And don’t bother disputing me.”

  Fergus muttered while he pulled on his coat. “Good weather, nothing happens. Bad weather shows up and throws out a fistful of troubles.” He stomped into his boots and glared out the window, his blue eyes sparking. “If there’s wolves lurking about, they best steer clear of me.”

  Aaron stifled a chuckle and followed Fergus to the barn. With the cold weather, predators were likely to be shadowing the herd. Maybe they’d discovered the fence break. He squinted up at the lead-gray sky. Who knew how much more snow it figured to unload, and when?

  The two men busied themselves putting together the needed supplies, loading them onto a small sled to pull behind them. Fergus gestured at the two nearest horses. “We’ll saddle up Dusty and Arrow.”