by Kit Morgan
“I will,” Katie whispered, still bouncing on her toes.
Merry chuckled, put an arm around the child and steered her toward the hutch to get the mixing bowl.
An hour later, the first batch of oatmeal raisin cookies was done. The three chatted quietly while they worked, listening to Mr. Hunter’s soft snores. Once the second batch was finished, Merry would start supper. Or perhaps take the children into the woods to gather pine cones first. She had no Christmas ornaments to speak of, and pine cones were freely available. Maybe they could paint them … no, where would she get paint? Oh dear …
“Merry?”
Her head whipped around. “Yes, Mr. Hunter?” She wiped her hands on her apron and went to the bed. “Are you all right?”
“Water, please.”
“Yes, of course.” She crossed the cabin, grabbed a cup, came back and filled it from the pitcher on the wash stand. “Here. Can you sit up?”
“Yeah.” He struggled to sit, and she could tell he was weak. Maybe if he got out of bed for a while, he’d feel better. “Can you stand? Perhaps you’d like to sit in the rocker for a bit.”
He looked blank at first before glancing at his legs. “My trousers. Where are they?”
“I washed them. I’ll fetch them for you.” She went to the trunk at the end of the bed, opened it and pulled out his denims. “I also patched the bullet hole. The children and I can step outside while you dress.”
His head turned to Wylie and Katie, who were spooning cookie dough onto a pan. “Leave Wylie. I’ll need some help.”
“Certainly.” She went to fetch Katie and took her to the porch to wait.
“Is Mr. Hunter going to be all right?” the child asked, concerned.
“Of course he is, sweetheart,” Merry consoled. “Why do you ask?”
“Did me and Wylie wear him out laughing?”
Merry had to think about what to say to that. “I think all of us have to be more careful to remember that he hasn’t got his strength back yet.”
“Will he ever get it back?”
“Yes, he will, I’m sure of it. But he’s been through a lot, and his body needs time to get back to normal.”
Katie looked up at her. “What’s normal for him?”
Merry had to think about that too. She had no idea, other than he was clearly strong when whole. As to the rest of his traits – how he thought or interacted with others – well, she’d just have to find out. So far she’d found him very congenial … when lying flat on his back and helpless.
Wylie poked his head out the door. “You can come in now.”
They followed him in to find Mr. Hunter sitting in the rocker wrapped in a quilt. “Are you cold?” Merry asked.
“A little.” He glanced guiltily at the bed, where his discarded shirt lay. “I figured it needs a washing by now. And I don’t have a spare.”
She nodded. At least he was modest. “I’ll see to it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. I have something you can wear.” She went to the trunk again and pulled out a shirt much like his, only patched at the elbows. “This was my husband’s. He was almost as big as you, so hopefully it will fit.” She handed it to him.
He reached for it, letting the quilt fall into his lap. “It’ll do, even if I can’t button it up all the way. Thank you.”
Merry got a good gander at his broad chest, blushed a furious red and quickly turned around. “Fine.”
She heard him chuckle, watched the quilt fly past her to land on the bed, then listened to the creak of the rocking chair. He must be trying to stand. Oh heavens, what if he lost his balance? She whirled around to catch him should he stumble and fall … and froze, her eyes locked on him, her breath caught in her throat.
Mr. Hunter had one arm in a sleeve and was in the process of putting the other in, his chest and torso fully exposed. He smiled. “Pardon me, Merry. I didn’t mean to, ah … startle you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, heard him laugh, and opened them to find he’d turned his back to her and was buttoning the shirt. “Why did you do that?” she asked.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Do … what?”
She took a step back. He looked bigger. Maybe it was the shirt. Maybe it was that he was finally standing up. “You called me by my Christian name.”
He just looked confused, but still smiling. “It’s a beautiful name.”
She licked her lips. “But … it’s not proper.”
He rolled his eyes, just for a split second. “None of this is proper …”
She took another step back and gasped, a hand to her chest.
He chuckled. “Dear woman, you’re as skittish as a newborn colt.” Finished with the buttons, he turned around. The shirt fit him, barely – he was straining the buttons, and the cuffs left a good three inches of wrist exposed. “You may call me Colson if you wish. That would make us even.”
“Then we’d both be acting improperly!” She saw Wylie and Katie’s heads swiveling between her and Colson – Mr. Hunter! – like they were watching lawn tennis.
He eased himself back into the rocking chair. “At this point, I’m none too worried about it. It’s not like the whole town has come to pay you a visit.”
He had her there – no one but the Joneses and Whites had checked on them, and it had been so long since she’d gone into town that the citizens might have forgotten she was still out here. And with the two children around, any worry about chaperonage was taken care of.
“Can I call you Colson?” Wylie asked.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“And me?” Katie said with a huge smile.
“Yes, you too, sweetie.” He looked at Merry. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Merry. I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly.”
She looked away as she blushed again. He was very handsome – she’d noticed it before, but hadn’t reacted to it like today. He had George’s strength and size (more of both, it seemed) but she didn’t sense any of George’s penchant for violence. And what was she supposed to do about his use of her Christian name? Oh dear …
“Widow Bright?” Katie said with concern.
She turned to the child. “What, sweetheart?”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course I am.”
“Why do you call her Widow Bright?” Mr. Hunter asked the child.
Katie shrugged. “It’s what we’ve always called her.”
He looked at Merry. “Do you like it?”
Now she shrugged. “It’s what they’ve always …”
“But do you want them to?”
Her brows knit. “It doesn’t matter …”
“I don’t think it fits you,” he said, studying her. He looked at the children. “It makes me think of something sad.”
“Well he did die,” Katie said matter-of-factly.
Merry gasped, even as Mr. Hunter laughed. “Yes … he did, sweetheart,” Merry finally sputtered. “And I suppose it does make me sound … sad …”
Mr. Hunter nodded in agreement. Katie and Wylie exchanged a look, shrugged, then went back to spooning cookie dough onto a pan, as if their work was done.
“So looks like from now on I’ll call you Merry,” Colson declared. “Unless you’d really prefer I call you Widow Bright …” He paused, his brow furrowing, then chuckled again. “Merry Bright. Heh-heh …”
She blushed once more – egads, it was getting to be a habit around the man. “Oh, go ahead, I’m used to it,” she groused. “I can only imagine what’s going through that head of yours.”
He snorted once more, but otherwise held himself together.
“Widow Bright has a happy name!” Katie said from across the cabin. “Merry Bright, Merry Bright, one wish is all I see tonight!”
Now Colson lost it, falling back into the rocker and guffawing. “See?” he said between outbursts. “Your name inspires song!”
Merry folded her arms, glared at the ceiling
as if telling the Almighty that really, this was quite enough, then turned her look on Katie. Katie, who’d looked ready to go for a second chorus, froze and gulped. “Sorry, Wid … I mean … Mrs. Bright?”
Merry smiled. “That’ll do, Katie. And you can sing that if you want.” She turned to Colson and tried the glare out on him.
“What did I do?”
“Started all this.”
“You mean, the proper use of your name?” He suddenly sobered. “Oh. If you’re still grieving, my most humble apologies. I didn’t mean …”
She held up a hand to quiet him. “To answer your question, I suppose I am done. You’re right – ‘Widow Bright’ does make me sound sad. I’ve just accepted it because, well, it is the truth. And I never liked my maiden name – before you ask, it’s Dumfries – so I never thought about going back to it.” She shrugged, then shot a look at Wylie, who immediately stopped the sniggering he’d begun after hearing “Dumfries.”
He smiled tentatively. “If you don’t mind my saying, you’re much lovelier than either of those options. Merry … suits you.”
He thought she was lovely? And she was blushing again, wasn’t she? For the love of … “Thank you, Mr. H … Colson.” They remained in place for a moment, just looking at one another until it started feeling awkward. But despite that, for the first time in years she felt quite content, even with this crazy quilt of people in her house. She hadn’t felt like this since … since before George, she realized, and gritted her molars.
“Can I have a cookie?” Katie asked.
That, thankfully, pulled her from past thoughts. “Yes, they should be cool enough by now.” Merry went and poured everyone a glass of milk, brought in a plate of cookies and shared it around, then sat on the bed to nibble one herself.
Everyone ate and drank in silence for a few minutes before Wylie wiped his hands on his pants and went over to Colson. “Can you help us look for a Christmas tree? You said you would.”
He exchanged a quick look with Merry. “Christmas tree?”
She nodded. “You did say you’d help them, I recall.”
“I did?” He scratched his head. “Oh. I guess I did. I’m glad you reminded me.”
She stared at him a moment. “Yes, considering your head injury.”
He nodded, looking strangely pleased. “Quite.” He turned to Wylie. “Yes, I’d love to help you, but best give me another day or two. I’m not sure I’m up to chopping down a tree just yet – I mean, I barely got to this chair. And Christmas isn’t for another couple of weeks.”
Wylie’s shoulders slumped. “Okay.”
“But in the meantime,” Merry added, “the two of you can help me gather pine cones to make ornaments.”
“I wanna make ornaments!” Katie yelped. “I can make big ones!”
“You also want the little ones,” Colson said. “You make holes in them, loop them with string and hang them on your tree.”
“Show me!” she said, jumping up and down.
Colson laughed. “Don’t you think you’d better go with Merry to get some first?”
She stopped, looked at Merry, then began jumping again. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Everyone laughed as Merry went to get her shawl. She wrapped it around her shoulders, grabbed a wicker basket from under the table and headed for the door. “Come along then, children – put your coats on.”
As Wylie and Katie scrambled to comply, Merry and Colson’s eyes met. His were a mixture of longing, loneliness and grief. She could tell because she’d felt the same – almost every morning for the last year. But lately, that was happening less and less. She bit her lip and realized how much she’d miss Wylie and Katie when they were no longer needed here and went home.
Merry swallowed hard. She also realized she would miss Colson Hunter even more.
Eight
“Please be careful.” Merry hoped she didn’t sound like she was pleading, but memories of the horrible day George fell off the roof reignited the moment she watched Colson climb the ladder. He hadn’t regained all his strength yet, and if he got dizzy …
“I’m all right,” he called down. “Just taking a moment.”
“Take all the time you need, please,” she said. “And be careful.” She frowned – she’d just said that, hadn’t she?
He looked at her and smiled. “Always.”
Was he? How would she know? She’d known him barely two weeks. But true to his word, he was doing what she asked and starting to fix things. He’d already worked on the dilapidated wagon – the easiest for him to start with, as he could sit on a barrel while he did it and come into the house to rest if he needed. He’d moved it to the top of the list, as he’d need the wagon when mending the fences – thankfully, he had a horse to hitch to it. But he’d also decided patching the barn roof should go ahead of the fences.
“Toss me up the hammer, would you?” he said as he reached the roof and settled himself. He’d already carried up a bucket of other supplies he’d need.
Merry spied the hammer on the ground near the ladder, picked it up and began to climb up with it instead. With her luck, she’d throw it and hit him in the head, bringing him plummeting to the ground like George – or failing that, make another hole in the roof.
“You don’t have to bring it up,” he said as she ascended. “I don’t want you to fall.”
“You’re the one on the roof.”
He carefully reached over and took the hammer from her. “Now get back on the ground, Merry. You’re much safer down there.”
“Are you saying you’re not safe up here?”
“Only if I don’t pay attention – for instance, if I’m distracted by a beautiful woman coming up here. Now please, I’ll feel much better when your feet are on the ground.”
She nodded, blushing, and descended. When she reached the bottom she stepped away and looked up, a hand over her eyes to shade them from the winter sun. “Are you sure you’ll be all right up there?”
He sighed and chuckled at the same time. “Yes, Merry, I’ll be fine. Where are Wylie and Katie?” He glanced around the barnyard below.
“They’re not here today,” she informed him. “Wylie told me yesterday his family is going into Morgan’s Crossing before it snows. Christmas shopping.”
Colson took some shingles out of the bucket. “So we’re alone?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, it looks that way. I’ll just go into the house, shall I?”
“Lunch?” he said with raised eyebrows of interest.
“That and seeing to my own Christmas presents.”
“Presents,” he repeated with a smile. “Is there one for me?”
She picked up his tease and smiled back. “Maybe, maybe not. But remind me to give it to you if you leave before Christmas Day.” She turned away before he could say anything more. If he wanted to leave as soon as he was done working for her, he had every right. Once he finished her list, what was there to keep him here besides her own wishful thinking?
She went into the house and looked at her empty pallet on the floor. Correction: Colson’s empty pallet. Last night was the first night he’d slept on it, insisting she take her bed back. Last night was also the first night Katie and Wylie hadn’t slept in her house since Colson arrived – their parents wanted to get an early start on their trip to town.
But at this point, what did it matter? No one had come to see her or Colson except her neighbors and Doc Rawlings, and obviously none of them had said anything to the townsfolk. If Doc had told Harper, she hadn’t blabbed – but she wasn’t any sort of gossip. And thank heaven for that, because Harper worked part-time in the general store and saw everyone in town – she could do a lot of damage if she were.
Merry went about her business and started lunch. She noticed she’d have to bake more cookies soon, as they were running low. Colson had quite a sweet tooth. Perhaps she should make a pie – did he like pie? She’d never asked. For now, she made a few sandwiches and a bone broth, t
hinking he’d want something hot once he came inside. The weather was quite cold, but he insisted on working anyway. At least it wasn’t snowing yet.
She glanced out the window and sighed. What would she do when it was snowing, and she was alone again? How was she going to stand it? Not only that, but how was she going to eat? The food the Whites had brought was running low, and though she was working to stretch it, it wasn’t going to last much longer. She figured she’d run out about when Colson left. But that was the goal: to feed him while he was recovering, not to take care of herself …
She pushed the thoughts from her mind, not wanting to dwell on something she could do nothing about. As soon as the soup was simmering, she went to her knitting basket and picked up her last balls of yarn. She hadn’t knitted since George died – she’d bought the skeins in Sweetwater Springs over a year before, when they traveled there for a few things they couldn’t get in Morgan’s Crossing. It was a fun outing and she had enjoyed the trip despite George’s constant griping.
Well, by golly, she wasn’t going to let a little thing like potential starvation dampen her spirits either. She’d find a way to survive. She always had. Having no choice in the matter was an effective motivator.
Merry cast on the amount of stitches she needed for a scarf and thanked the Lord she had some green yarn. It would go well with Colson’s red coat – very Christmas-y. She hoped she could get it done by the holiday, especially if he decided to leave shortly after. Really, why wouldn’t he? And why did she keep asking herself the same questions?
“Is lunch ready?” Colson asked as he entered.
She jumped. “Oh, good heavens!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She shoved her knitting behind her. “That’s all right, I’m fine. Are you hungry?”
“As a bear.” He gravitated toward the stove, not seeming to notice she was hiding something. “Mmm, smells good. Wylie and Katie don’t know what they’re missing.”
“Trust me, those two aren’t about to miss a chance at the candy jars at the general store.”
He laughed at that. “Can’t say I blame them. That candy saved my life, remember?”
