Annie squealed and tore open her package. Her face dropped. “I thought it was going to be Baby Jesus.” She held up an empty manger.
Mark chuckled. “Don’t worry, honey. He’ll be here by Christmas day.”
~
Carol grabbed her shawl and followed Mark out to the porch. She inhaled deeply of the cool air and gazed at the flicker of lanterns from the hotel and diner. They cast light onto the dusty streets of the small town, now dear to her heart.
She placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you again. Those are the most wonderful presents I’ve ever received. The children and I will treasure them always.”
“I enjoyed making them for you.” Mark reached for her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “There’s nothing I like better than seeing you smile.”
Carol stared into his brown eyes, mesmerized as the color darkened to rich chocolate. “You do an excellent job in that endeavor. I don’t know when I’ve been this content.”
“You make me happy.” Mark leaned forward, his voice husky. His face was freshly shaven and smelled of rosemary and citrus. “Do you have any idea how much I care for you?”
Carol fought the urge to run her fingers along his square jaw. “You’ve been a wonderful friend—”
“I want to be more than a friend to you, Carol. I love you.” He pulled her into his arms.
“I love you too.” Carol laid her head against his chest and sniffed. “But I can’t commit to a relationship with you.”
“Why not?” Mark stepped back and tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “You’re not secretly married or something, are you?”
“No.” Her mouth quivered. “But it’s not only me I have to consider. I need to do what’s best for Annie and Andrew too.”
Mark wrapped his finger around a stray lock of hair that had escaped the bun twisted on top of her head. “I have no qualms about raising your brother and sister as my own. I’ll do whatever is in my power to love, nurture, teach and help them any way I can.” Mark used the pad of his thumb to erase a stream of tears rolling down her cheeks.
“You are such a wonderful man.” Carol shook her head and let out a shaky breath. “Even though I’ve come to love every inch of this house, the town and the people who live here, I can’t help but wonder what my mother would say about all this.”
Mark pivoted and his eyes traveled across the length of the tiny house. He placed her hand over his heart. “I’ll never be able to build you a home like you grew up in, but I’ll make you a promise. It will be big and snug enough for you three and any other numbers you’d like to add to our family.”
She laughed and felt her cheeks burn at his waggling eyebrows. “Oh Mark, if it was just me—” Her voice dropped off. Face it, Carol. It’s not just the children you’re worried about. You enjoy the benefits of your former lifestyle as well.
His eyes crinkled. “Maybe I sprang this on you too soon. You haven’t had time to give it much thought or prayer. But I have, and I feel like you are the one—or should I say—you three are what God has in mind for me. And I plan on courting you. I’m hoping you’ll see things my way soon.”
Chapter 11
Annie and Andrew scrambled into the back of Mark’s wagon, filled with special items to deliver in secret this afternoon. Dozens of cookies for the sheriff and his deputies, a basket of goodies for the pastor’s family, and several stacks of wood to distribute to various families, including the Millers.
“The weather’s still fairly warm, especially in the daytime, but usually there’s a dip in the temperature this time of year. I’d rather get the firewood to folks before they have need of it. As excited as your brother and sister are, the trick will be to deliver everything quietly.” Mark pushed his hat to the back of his head and grinned.
Carol shivered, positioned her arm in Mark’s and spoke quietly into his ear, “I feel so badly for Mrs. Miller. Thomas told Andrew they have problems with mice at night, now that the weather has turned cooler. Thomas stays up late and tries to shoot them with pebbles from his slingshot.”
Mark rubbed his chin. “I wonder if his mother would be receptive to a kitten?” He glanced over his shoulder at Annie and Andrew. “I was going to ask you if you would like one for the children as well. Molly’s mama cat had a litter a couple of months ago. They should be good mousers, and the kids would enjoy them as pets too.”
“I’ve never had a pet.” She swallowed hard. “At least not since my father was alive. My stepfather didn’t approve of pets inside the house.”
Carol glanced back at her siblings. Annie wrapped her favorite doll in the crazy quilt they had pieced together, and Andrew rolled a hand-stitched ball across the floorboard. According to her attorney, unless her stepfather’s brother had a change in heart, her quarterly allowance would be delayed. She would not be receiving any additional funds to support the children at least in the foreseeable future. The children’s Christmas presents this year would be minimal.
“Annie and Andrew would be thrilled.” Carol placed her hand over her heart. “If you keep the children busy unloading the wood, I’ll distract Mrs. Miller and ask her if she would be receptive to the idea.”
Mark pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office and nodded to Andrew. “Looks like the deputy’s sitting at his desk. Just tell him Santa sent you.”
“Yes sir.” Andrew grinned and leaped from the wagon.
Annie passed him a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “Can I deliver the next package?”
“How about if you carry the basket to the preacher’s house? You’ll have to be quick. Once you knock on the door, hurry back to the wagon.” Mark brought a finger to his mouth. “I’ll park a few houses down but be very quiet.”
“I’ll walk on tippy-toe.” Annie’s blue eyes were wide and she nodded.
“Let your brother help you down.” Mark glanced over his shoulder at Andrew. “If you can stand at the rear of the wagon and help her back in, we should be able to pull away before they get the door open.”
“I’m excited. This is the best Christmas ever.” Annie threw her arms around Mark. “I love you, Mr. Mark.”
“I love you too, sweetie.” His voice was hoarse.
~
Mark pulled the wagon to the side of the Miller’s soddy to unload their gift of firewood. “Me and the kids will start stacking the wood if you want to go ahead and speak to Mrs. Miller.”
Carol nodded but remained seated as she studied the sod house. The base was wider, giving the small dwelling an unusual shape. Sod bricks stacked years ago now grew together in what Mark had assured her was sturdy and would be warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
“Is something the matter?” Mark’s eyebrows drew together.
“The wall looks like it’s melting.” Carol sighed.
“It’s not much to look at. But the sod bricks are thick and are sloped down on the outside so once things settle, they won’t collapse. Whoever built it knew what he was doing. The roof now—that’s another story.” Mark rubbed his chin. “But as long as we don’t get much rain, they should be alright.”
He placed his hands around Carol’s waist and lifted her from the wagon. “Mrs. Miller is proud and won’t take well to charity. My family and I’ve been praying for wisdom to identify how to help her and the children.”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “Unless you feel strongly otherwise, my suggestion is we take it slow. Send the kids out, and then you can ask her about the kitten. Try and make it sound as though she’d be doing us a favor by taking one.”
Carol shook her head and giggled. “Your mother said something similar to me about her packets of teas. This business of giving in secret is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.” She blew out her cheeks. “I’m afraid she’ll recognize my motives immediately, but I’ll do as you suggest.”
“Don’t fret. Just try and work it in the conversation. You have such a gentle way of speaking she won’t be offended.” Mark leaned
his chin against Carol’s head.
“What’s the matter?” Her hand went to her hat.
“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure your halo is on straight.” Mark’s eyes twinkled. “You make the perfect Christmas angel.”
Carol huffed. “Today is the first time I’ve ever been accused of resembling a heavenly being.”
“It won’t be the last.” Mark turned her gently toward the soddy. “Go now, newly appointed angel, Carol of Carrie Town, and put Christmas into action.”
Carol took a quick breath and glanced back at Mark who stood with his hands on his hips grinning from ear to ear. Her mouth twitched. Angel, indeed. The wind picked up and she wrapped her shawl around her squared shoulders and rounded the corner to find Betsy and Thomas standing in the open door. “How’s your mother feeling today?”
“She’s better, ma’am.” Thomas’s brown eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes overwhelmed his freckled face.
“Is Annie with you?” Betsy peeked her head outside the door. Her blond braids tied with blue ribbon flopped to the side.
“She sure is, and so is Andrew. Why don’t you ask your mother if you can come out and play for a few minutes?” Carol tousled the young boy’s golden hair and offered Annie a smile.
“That would be mighty nice. You two grab your jackets.” Mrs. Miller’s thin frame appeared in the doorway. Dark circles remained under her eyes, but her gaunt face was cheery and her cheeks pink. “Won’t you come in, Carol? I was just about to pour myself a cup of tea.”
The children grabbed their coats and ran past her. Carol blinked and tried to accustom her eyes to the darkness. The room was about the same size as her home but with only one window and without the benefit of a loft. Four cots covered in brightly covered quilts lined the perimeter of the room. The walls were plastered with newspaper, and the ceiling covered in white muslin.
Mrs. Miller motioned to the wooden table covered in a checkered oilcloth centered in the middle of the room on the dirt floor. A tea kettle whistled from the tiny wood stove in the corner.
“Thank you. A hot drink would be wonderful.” Carol took a seat on one of the benches and reached into her pocket and pulled out two pouches. “Mrs. Montgomery sent a batch of medicinal teas she’d like your opinion on. One is thyme and the other ginger.”
Carol extended the parcels to Mrs. Miller. “Her son-in-law, Dr. Benton, is doing some research, and he would appreciate it if you could let either of them know if one seemed to help more than the other.”
Mrs. Miller rested her hand on her throat. “Why, I’d be honored.”
“Just brew either of these mixtures and add a bit of honey. Mrs. Montgomery said it would not only improve the taste but would soothe your cough as well.” Carol blew out a slight breath of relief, noting there was a jar of the sweet substance sitting on the table.
“If you don’t mind, while the children are out of earshot, I’d like to ask your opinion about something.” Carol raised her eyebrows.
“Sure, go right ahead.” Mrs. Miller poured her tea into a tin cup.
“Mark’s sister has offered to give the children a kitten. I feel certain my brother and sister would love one, but what are your thoughts on pets inside the house?” Carol bit her lip. Lord, the woman sees right through me. How do I offer to help without hurting her feelings?
“I see why you would ask me.” Mrs. Miller set the kettle on the wood-burning stove.
Carol felt her face flush. “You do?”
“Although I’m old enough to be your mother, we have a lot in common, you and me.” Mrs. Miller gave a half smile. A small dimple appeared on the side of her cheek. “We both are raising children on our own in a small space and on a tight budget.”
Her hazel eyes darted across the room and paused above her head at the muslin sheet hanging on the ceiling. “Everything in this house has a purpose. That piece of material was meant for my bed but does more for us by catching any dirt or varmints that fall from the ceiling.” Mrs. Miller waved her thumb toward the edge of the room. “The children’s clothes and playthings are stored in the trunks in front of their beds, which is also used for sitting.”
Carol nodded. “I have a chest we use instead of a bench as well, but space is tight. Sometimes I wonder if I should bring in a pound of potatoes, much less consider adding a pet to the mix.”
“I’m thankful my place has a root cellar for the same reason. But I know what you mean.” Mrs. Miller laughed and stirred her tea. “Just as potatoes are a means to feed your family, a cat has its purposes as well. They’re self-sufficient too.” She took a spoonful of honey and added it to her mixture. “A kitten would fall into the category of useful, and if the children would find pleasure in the critter, then all the better.” She tapped her spoon on her cup and pointed it at Carol. “If you timed it right since we’re so close to Christmas, you might could tell them Santa brought it.”
“Which is exactly what Mark said.” Carol brought the tin cup closer to her lips enjoying the rich, zesty aroma. “I feel certain Santa has several kittens he would like to be rid of.” She grinned. “Would you be agreeable if he were to drop one by your home on Christmas Eve?”
Chapter 12
The large picture window of the mercantile sparkled in the morning sun. Carol paused with Mark and studied the miniature cradle, which held the infant-sized doll with a china head that Annie had admired. “Did the kids ever tell you what they want for Christmas?” He rubbed his chin and his eyes darted from the toy train to the tops, blocks and tiny ceramic tea set.
“No.” Carol let out a deep sigh. “Andrew helped Annie write a letter to Santa. I’ve been trying to find out what happened to it, but so far no luck.”
“Wonder why they won’t just tell you what they’d like for Christmas?” Mark tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and they ambled into the store.
“Annie said she can’t tell me or it won’t come true.” Carol gave a half smile. “I’m not sure where she heard that, but she’s convinced it’s true.”
Armed with the grocery list, Carol blinked until her eyes adjusted to the dark room. They circled a pot-bellied stove, surrounded by several chairs, a coal bucket, spittoon and checkerboard. Carol surveyed the merchandise, which included stacks of overalls, tobacco and all manner of products.
The store owner approached wearing a wide smile. “Mrs. Montgomery’s list is on the front; the smaller one on the back is mine.” She passed him the paper.
“It’ll take me a while to pull everything.” The owner locked his fingers together over his clean white apron, which protected his dress shirt. “I can deliver it if you like?”
Carol nodded absently and tapped her finger on her mouth. “Thank you. We’re going to look around a bit. I’m trying to decide what to give the children for Christmas.”
“Take your time. I just got a shipment of toys in that I ordered with the holiday in mind. They’re in the case with the candy.” The shop owner motioned with his thumb.
“Can’t imagine a better place to catch the children’s attention, can you?” Mark whispered in her ear. “I’ve never met a kid who doesn’t like sweets.”
Carol met Mark’s smile and motioned toward the colorful display of peppermint sticks, jellybeans, rock candy, licorice and lemon drops in glass jars. Jump ropes, marbles and toy soldiers were lined strategically on the shelves below. “The choosing is almost as much fun as the partaking.”
Mark turned to the back of the store that housed the post office. “Do you suppose the kids would have dropped their letter off here?”
Carol straightened. “They didn’t ask me for money for postage.”
Mark raised one eyebrow. “Hopefully no one would try and collect postage from two little kids trying to communicate with Santa Claus.”
“In the city where we’re from, they would take their money and not bat an eye.” Carol shrugged. “But it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
Mark cleared his throat. “Mr. Mackenzie, did Miss Stone�
��s brother and sister happen to drop a letter off to the North Pole?”
The store owner scratched his chin. “Not to my knowledge. But my son does all the sorting of the mail. He is out making deliveries. When he gets back, I’ll ask. If we have it, I’ll find a way to get it to you without the kids knowing.”
Carol gave a conspiratorial grin. “That would be wonderful.”
~
The spicy aroma of ginger and clove combined with the rich scent of cinnamon and sweet molasses greeted Carol and Mark as they entered his mother’s kitchen. Andrew sat at the table munching a cookie while Annie sat on a stool peering over the mixing bowl.
“Something sure smells good.” Mark reached for a gingerbread man cooling on a pan fresh from the oven. “Okay if I eat one, Ma?”
Mrs. Montgomery waved her rolling pin. “Seeing as how you’ve already got it in your mouth, I suppose so.” Her green eyes twinkled. “Did you two get all your shopping done?”
“We did for the most part. Mr. Mackenzie is going to deliver everything this afternoon. Thank you for watching the children for me, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“It was my pleasure. The children enjoyed cutting out the gingerbread men, and now they’re doing a little sampling.”
“We’re only eating the broken ones.” Andrew grinned. “Annie ate the one she said looked like Mr. Scrooge.”
Mrs. Montgomery’s shoulder shook. “We tried to add hats to a few of the cookies, but that didn’t work out too well.”
“We’re going to make some more to hang on our Christmas tree, once we get one. Mrs. Montgomery said they wouldn’t make it to her tree because all her sons gobble them up too fast.” Annie’s chin was covered in crumbs. “Mr. Mark, you sure have a lot of brothers.”
“Sisters too, but they don’t eat as much.” Mark pulled out a chair for Carol.
“Are your sisters big or small?” Annie rested her chin in her hands and gazed at Mark.
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