A Fresh Start for Christmas

by Kimberly Grist

  “It’s gorgeous.” Her finger shook when Mike placed the ring on her finger.

  Standing toe to toe, Mike tilted her chin. “I know I got the best part of the deal. You’ve captured my heart. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Memphis’s voice cracked

  “You sure I can’t talk you into getting married on Thanksgiving?”

  “That’s today.” Memphis leaned closer, her pulse beating rapidly. Their lips met.

  “Is that a yes?” Mike wrapped a lock of Memphis’s hair around his finger.

  The door swung open and slammed against a cupboard. Annie appeared. “Uncle Mike, Grandpa said to hurry up. He’s tired of keeping everyone out of your hair.” The young girl climbed on a chair and pointed. “Look at all the cakes and pies. Don’t you just love Thanksgiving?”

  ***

  Memphis hummed while she placed several desserts on a long makeshift table covered in a checkered oilcloth. Even though she knew the plan was to have Thanksgiving in a picnic fashion, she’d been surprised when the weather was pleasant. The sun was bright in a cloudless blue sky and radiated warm rays to the various groups enjoying the day of thanks.

  It was different from any holiday she’d ever been a part of. Although everyone did their best, the number of children to feed on a tight budget didn’t allow for celebrations of this nature.

  Maggie crossed her arms and glanced around. “This is the perfect weather for Thanksgiving. I love a crisp autumn day.”

  Memphis placed her palm over her eyes and scanned the area. “When do they start the games? Mike said there would be a three-legged and a gunnysack race.”

  “They’re setting up the horseshoes now.” Maggie motioned with her thumb toward the field across from the church where Mike and Maggie’s husband, B.J., were hammering the posts into the ground.

  Squeals and laughter turned Memphis’s attention toward a group of children playing kick the can. A slight breeze surrounded them in the rich aroma of hickory.

  Maggie nodded toward her father and father-in-law, who pulled the last slab of beef from the open barbeque pit. “Typically, they start with the children’s games, followed by dinner. Afterward, the pastor speaks, then they’ll start the square dancing.”

  “It certainly promises to be an eventful day.” Memphis twisted her ring. Her lips curved upward from its unfamiliar presence. “I never thought I would care about jewelry.” She extended the gold band on her finger and admired the shiny stone. “I can’t stop looking at it.”

  “Mike was pleased with himself with the selection.” Maggie patted her shoulder. “We’re all delighted you’re going to be part of our family.”

  The clinking of metal followed by cheers drew their attention toward the game of horseshoes. A cluster of men and boys stood in teams sharing jests and chuckles toward the opposition. Mike patted a young teenage boy’s shoulder, the apparent winner of the round.

  Annie and another young girl of similar age squealed with delight, their cheeks pink from the sun. Annie dragged her friend by the elbow and stopped directly in front of Memphis.

  “See, I told you.” Annie inclined her head toward Memphis. “This is my friend, Betsy.”

  The young girl curtsied. “How do you do, ma’am?”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Memphis smiled.

  “How long is your hair?” Betsy pulled on the ribbon securing her braid.

  “Long enough, I suppose.” Memphis glanced at Maggie, whose eyebrows flew upward.

  “I guess you had to cut most of it off when you escaped.” The young girl crossed her arms and stared.

  “Escaped?” Maggie huffed. “Annie, what in the world is this about?”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Maggie, Betsy knows the secret.” Annie beamed.

  Betsy studied Memphis. “I’ve never met a princess before. You look a lot like your picture in Annie’s book.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever been compared to a princess.” Memphis’s mouth twitched. “Can you tell me the name of this person you think I resemble?”

  “We’re a little confused about it. Annie thinks you look like Rapunzel. She lived in an attic.” Betsy tapped her finger on her mouth. “So did Cinderella.”

  “Grandma Tennessee told us another story about the princess and the pea. It’s kind of different from the one in my book,” Annie whispered. “She’s an orphan too.”

  “I see.” Memphis knelt beside both girls. “Although I’m not a princess, I certainly feel fortunate to be here today. Since this is Thanksgiving, when I said my morning prayers, I thanked God for allowing me to arrive safely in Carrie Town and for giving me a new family and friends like you.”

  “Did you travel on a ship?” Betsy inclined her head.

  “She came on a train.” Annie huffed. “I told you that.”

  Betsy posted her hands on her hips. “There’s nothing about trains in your book.”

  Maggie placed her hand on Memphis’s shoulder. “I believe this situation calls for a formal introduction. Miss Griffin, please rise to your feet.”

  Memphis gave Maggie a wink and straightened. “I’m an ordinary woman from Tennessee. My name is Memphis Rose Griffin and on Christmas Day, I will marry Annie’s uncle and my new name will be, Mrs. Michael Montgomery.”

  Betsy shielded her mouth with her palm and whispered. “She must have hit her head when she climbed out of the tower. She doesn’t know her own name.”

  Chapter 18

  “To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  Strolling along the boardwalk after the feast, Memphis leaned contentedly on Mike’s arm. The day had been perfect—a beautiful Thanksgiving message from the pastor, followed by hours of dancing. “I don’t know when I’ve had such fun. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep up, but the way the sheriff called out the steps, it made things much easier.”

  Mike’s mouth formed a thin line. “I noticed you didn’t lack for partners.”

  Memphis paused and shifted to look at him. “Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to dance while you played the banjo during the second half?”

  “I did and I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” His eyebrows snapped together. “You seemed especially attentive to the deputy.”

  “I don’t know what it is about him, but Deputy Weaver has a way of making people feel at ease.” Memphis patted Mike’s arm. “He was only being friendly.”

  “A little too friendly from my view.” Mike lifted his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. “The sawmill owner—is he easy to talk to as well?”

  “Exactly what are you accusing me of?” Memphis posted her hands on her hips.

  “Not accusing you of anything.” Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. “One of my favorite things to do is to play the banjo and the violin. Today I couldn’t help but regret I’d agreed to play because it prevented us from spending the afternoon dancing together.”

  Memphis shrugged. “Although they were patient partners and helped me navigate the steps, both men pumped me for information. They’re considering taking up a correspondence with my friends at the orphanage.”

  “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” Mike blew out a breath. “When you’re enjoying yourself, you light up like a firefly.” He caressed her hand with his thumb. “It’s my own insecurities. I’m afraid you might change your mind or even worse regret marrying someone like me.”

  “I realize our time together is minimal.” Memphis inclined her head. “Even so, because of correspondence, I feel as though I know you well. I couldn’t imagine wanting to marry anyone but you.”

  Mike grinned. “Glad to hear that.”

  The beat of her heart increased at the sight of his irresistible dimples. “Honesty is an important part of our relationship. Have I done anything to make you not trust me?” Memphis studied Mike’s softened expression. His gaze held her captive. The blue of his shirt brought out the green and gold flakes in his
brown eyes.

  “No. The fault here is with me.” Mike cleared his throat. “There is something I need to tell you.” Laughter and the scuffling of feet across the boardwalk turned their attention to Annie and Andrew, who were a few yards ahead of Mike’s brother and sister-in-law, Carol. The children paused in front of the large picture window of the mercantile.

  Annie stood on tiptoe listening to Andrew describe a pair of leather boots with mule-ear straps.

  “Andrew aspires to become a cowboy. He thinks wearing leather boots will improve his riding skills.” Mike whispered in Memphis’s ear. “Santa’s going to bring him a pair this year.”

  Memphis stepped closer to the display. Assorted tin signs advertising tobacco, cigars and hardware sat to the left. Her mouth lifted at the intensity of Annie’s gaze on an infant-sized doll with a china head lying in a miniature cradle. “I can see where Annie’s interest lies.”

  “Hard to tell with that little gal.” Mike chuckled. “Annie embraced the spirt of putting Christmas into action. It’s unusual for her to ask for anything for herself.”

  Memphis took Mike’s arm. “You wrote about some of your family’s Christmas missions. Your mother mentioned your family is going to discuss what projects they’d like to undertake tomorrow at dinner. What types of things do you do?”

  “It’s the best part of Christmas trying to decide.” His eyes brightened. “Certain things we agree on without discussing. Volunteering to help with the children’s nativity play, replenishing the firewood for those in need and delivering baked goods for the fun of it are always on the list.”

  “Your mother mentioned adopting a family?” Memphis studied Mike’s square jaw and fought the urge to place her hand on his face.

  “The idea is to keep it a secret. There are two families Ma and the sheriff’s wife help all year. They’ll be on the list, I imagine. It’s easy to manage because we all pitch in on the work and the cost.”

  Memphis was surprised to hear Mike’s sister-in-law’s voice. She turned to see John-Mark and his wife strolling toward them.

  “The unique thing about Carrie Town is the idea has spread to so many of the townsfolk it may be a bit more difficult to find folks in need,” John-Mark added.

  Mike chuckled. “That’s a good thing.”

  “It most certainly is.” Memphis patted Mike’s arm. “I’m excited about the baking and the Christmas tree.”

  “Did y’all have a tree at the orphanage?” Carol asked in a familiar southern drawl.

  “We did. We made ornaments to hang from scraps of paper, holly and pinecones. On Christmas day, there was a candy cane for each child hanging on the branches.”

  Carol sighed. “I have fond memories of the Christmas tree too. My favorite decoration was the one my father’s mother brought with her from Germany—a small tree made from goose quill.”

  “Really? After our battle with the down in the upholstery material, I’m surprised you can speak fondly about any feather.” Memphis laughed and Carol joined in.

  “Which reminds me of my new favorite.” Carol rubbed her expanding belly. “Mark and Maggie made me a tabletop candelabra shaped like a tree. It’s beautiful and practical.” Carol motioned at the display of various wooden tops, blocks, and a toy train. “The shopkeeper does an excellent job of piquing everyone’s interest. From now until Christmas, he adds or changes an item every day.” She pointed toward the next store. “Although designed with women in mind, Lois is even more creative showing off her craft at the dress shop,” Carol called to her brother and sister, and the group headed toward Lois’s dress shop to peer at the display window.

  “Looks like she’s been making additions as well.” Memphis stepped closer to take in the view. The child-sized mannequin remained in the previous pose with a rag doll tucked under her arm, but now both were dressed in flannel sleepwear.

  “Look, Carol.” Annie bounced on her toes. “Her doll is wearing a nightgown too.”

  “Would you like Santa to bring you something like that?” Carol patted her sister’s shoulder.

  Annie’s face puckered. “I have plenty of dolls already. It’s pretty, though.” She turned her attention towards Memphis. “Do the little girls at your orphanage have dollies?”

  Memphis swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Theirs are made from cornhusks—nothing quite so lovely as this one.”

  Andrew rubbed his chin. “What about the boys? Do they have toys?”

  “The boys are similar to you and your friends. They like to play tag and kick the can.” Memphis offered a half-smile.

  Annie hopped on one foot. “That’s it. I’m going to write Santa a letter and ask him to bring toys to all of Aunt Memphis’s friends.”

  Chapter 19

  “We are all fools in love.”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  Memphis helped Mrs. Montgomery move several ladder-back chairs from their resting spots in the corners of the dining room and positioned them for seating.

  “I enjoy having a full table at dinner.” Mrs. Montgomery’s eyes wandered across the room. The afternoon sunlight poured in through the bay windows and highlighted the russet and green, tulip-designed wallpaper. Memphis placed napkins next to the cream-colored dinnerware with shamrocks painted around the perimeter of the plates.

  Annie appeared carrying a basket of flatware. “These are Grandma Tennessee’s lucky plates.”

  Mrs. Montgomery nodded. “They’re my special plates.”

  Annie pointed toward the clover pattern. “Your grandma said clover was lucky, right?”

  “Yes. She enjoyed telling me folktales about things that were said to bring good luck.” Mrs. Montgomery pulled several forks from the basket.

  “Like what?” Annie followed Mrs. Montgomery around the table with the basket.

  “Silly things—a rabbit's foot, a lost horseshoe.” Mrs. Montgomery clucked her tongue. “You should ask Grandpa about his lucky feather.”

  “Mrs. Shelby told me entertaining stories about how y’all tried a variety of superstitions to get Mr. Montgomery to fall in love with her.” Memphis paused from folding napkins. “Who told her to sleep with a piece of wedding cake under her pillow?”

  Mrs. Montgomery laughed. “We were attending a friend’s wedding. Grandmother said if we placed the cake underneath our pillows, we’d dream about who we were to marry.”

  “Did you dream about Grandpa?” Annie’s eyes were wide.

  “I most certainly did not.” Mrs. Montgomery’s mouth twitched. “I’ve always had a sweet tooth. I ate my piece at the wedding.”

  Memphis laughed. “From what I recall from Mrs. Shelby’s story, she followed your grandmother’s instructions and during the night, she rolled on top of the cake. When she woke up, her hair and bedding were a mess, and she couldn’t recall anything about her dream.”

  “It’s the same way with the clover. People say a four-leaf clover brings good luck.” Mrs. Montgomery tapped her finger on her cheek. “Probably because they’re more unusual than lucky.”

  She picked up a plate for inspection. “Which is why I call my clover dinnerware special. The clover is one leaf but has three parts, which reminds me of the trinity. God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. And since we have a God who loves us, we need to put our trust in Him, not in clover or horseshoes or even feathers.”

  The screen on the back door slammed, signaling the arrival of Mr. Montgomery, Mike and his brothers. Mrs. Montgomery patted Annie’s back. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and imagine the menfolk are too. Let’s get the rest of the food on the sideboard.”

  ***

  Mr. Montgomery took his seat at the head of the table and reached for his wife’s hand and prayed. “Thank you, Lord. We are grateful for the expansion of our family and for your provision. Be with us now as we come together to determine how we can be used to do Your work here on earth. We thank you for this food and ask you to bless it for the nourishment of our bodies
. Amen.”

  Memphis gave Mike a sideways glance and passed the breadbasket. Except for the graying at the temples, Mr. Montgomery’s sons all favored their father in looks and stature. He was exactly as Mike described in his letters—a man of character and a wonderful father. No wonder the young Mrs. Shelby was infatuated by the man.

  Mike passed the platter of ham to Memphis. Her cheeks warmed when their fingers touched. “Pa, did Annie tell you her idea for putting Christmas into action?”

  “Our Annie isn’t one to keep a secret.” The corners of Mr. Montgomery’s dark eyes crinkled. “Your mother and I were discussing her idea this morning to give presents to Memphis’s extended family. We thought it a wonderful idea.”

  Memphis blinked back the unexpected tears and stared at her napkin. Mike squeezed her hand. The now-familiar callused thumb caressed her fingers, giving her a jolt of hope and comfort. “Even though we’re not related by birth, the children and adults at the children’s home are like my family. They’ll be thrilled with anything we can send.” Memphis offered a watery smile.

  “For the boys, if we all work together—” Mike glanced at his father, then at each of his brothers. “—We ought to be able to carve sets of cup-and-ball toys and blocks.”

  “Uncle Mark said he could whittle whistles for the older boys.” Nine-year-old Andrew said, his freckles bobbing with each nod.

  “I could make several tops.” Moses rubbed his chin. “We’ll need to be quick about it, to allow for time for shipping.”

  “How about animal figures?” Malachi tapped his chin. “I can whittle some horses fairly quickly.”

  “The boys will love that.” Memphis shook her head. “Honestly, I was having a hard time coming up with ideas for them. The local church generally supplies the children with mittens.”

  “My quilting group has agreed to help create rag dolls for the little girls.” Mrs. Montgomery placed her finger on her cheek. “I hadn’t thought about the older girls, though.”