Parson Clay's Christmas Pup: A Wyldhaven Series Christmas Romance Novella

by Lynnette Bonner

  Kin tipped his hat in Zoe’s direction. But as he rode out of the yard, he sighed. When Zoe got a bee in her bonnet there was no stopping her, so he didn’t suppose there was much he could do.

  But he wished he’d been able to escape town without a bunch of hoopla.

  He was only halfway back to town when he met Maude and Aurora hurrying along the road toward him.

  Aurora gasped and marveled over the cuteness of the puppy as she lifted it from his saddlebag, while Maude stood back in that quiet way of hers.

  Aurora held the puppy up before her. “Aren’t you just the most adorable thing ever!” she cooed.

  The puppy wriggled and swiped at her face with a pink tongue which sent Aurora into a fit of giggles.

  Kin smiled at the sight. Of course the pup loved Aurora. Who spent more than five minutes in her presence without falling in love with her?

  Except for him. Well, he loved her like a sister. But maybe there was something wrong with him? Why wasn’t he ready to settle down and find a good woman yet? Maybe he never would be. Maybe all those beatings he’d taken from Pa had broken something inside him.

  He gritted his teeth and pushed the thoughts aside. “Aren’t we taking her to the parsonage?”

  Aurora shook her head and tucked the puppy close. “I’ve decided to let the parson recover for a few more days. I’ll give her to him on Christmas Eve. Until then, I’ll just take her back to the Kastains’ with me. I’ll be staying there for a few days.” With that she waggled her fingers in farewell and she and Maude continued down the road.

  Kin rolled his eyes. If she’d known that this morning it would have saved him from making that slip about leaving in front of Zoe.

  Maybe he wasn’t so broken after all. Maybe he was just smart.

  Women were just compact bundles of trouble wrapped up in pretty packaging.

  Chapter 7

  By Christmas Eve, Preston Clay felt like a new man. It amazed him how a couple days of good food and rest had rejuvenated his body. He would count this as a Christmas blessing—especially since he had so many things to do between today and tomorrow.

  The first of which were the gifts he wanted to deliver to a family out at Camp Sixty-Four. They had three of the cutest kids he’d ever come across. And they had wormed their way into his heart. Mostly because both the parents were taking in the Word he shared each month and actually putting it into practice. They’d never heard the truths of the Scriptures before they’d started attending his services. And it gave him great joy to see the Word of God flourishing so effectively in the lives of this little family.

  Thus, he was doubly thankful to be feeling better, because for several months he had been whittling toys for their three children for Christmas gifts. He would take them out tomorrow. He only hoped that he would be able to deliver them without word getting to other families who also had children. He didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by making them feel left out, and yet he couldn’t possibly have presents for every child in every camp. But that was a worry for tomorrow. For today, he needed to get them wrapped.

  With Tommy painting quietly in his book, Preston took the carvings, the roll of brown paper, and the spool of pink and white twine that he had purchased at the mercantile to the table in the yard. He swiped a section clear of snow.

  Often in the summertime, they would eat out here. But today he simply wanted to be outdoors for a bit of fresh air after being cooped up for so long. Though there was still snow on the ground, the day was unseasonably warm. And it felt good to be in the sunshine. Who knew when they would have another sunny day around these parts?

  He had just finished tying the last blow on the last package when he heard footsteps on the path up from the church. He glanced up.

  Aurora strode toward him, her brown hair fluttering from beneath a knit cap.

  His pulse spiked and then his teeth slammed together. Tarnation!

  He’d hoped that once she moved out of his house, he would be able to get her out of his mind. Yet just the sight of her treading the path toward him had all the confusion resurfacing.

  He squinted. Then propped his hands on his hips. Was that a dog in her arms? Since when had Aurora gotten a dog?

  She looked up then, caught his scrutiny, and flushed prettily.

  He wished she wouldn’t do that. Because it made him envision things like caressing his thumb over those rosy cheeks of hers.

  “Good evening.” With the dog cuddled up beneath her chin and her green eyes sparkling at him above its head she presented a heartwarming picture.

  One that shouldn’t be warming his heart at all. He dipped his chin. “Aurora.”

  Her feet shuffled and she suddenly glanced down shyly.

  He gritted his teeth. This new tension between them was all his fault. He never should have let himself think of her in any way other than as a friend and fellow servant of God.

  She lifted him a quick look before returning her scrutiny to a patch of snow that remained on the table. “When I was tending you… You said something about not getting a puppy for Christmas, in 1882, I think it was.” Without another word she stretched out her arms to set the dog on the table before him.

  His brows shot up. What in the world?

  “I… I know you had wanted to go back east to see your family this holiday. And I’m sure it was a great disappointment when you were prevented from doing so. And I wanted you to have a happy Christmas. To that end…” She swept a little gesture to the dog. “Merry Christmas, Pres—Parson Clay.”

  For the first time in a very long time, Preston found himself speechless. He glanced down at the puppy, for he suddenly realized that it was indeed a pup and not a full-grown dog.

  The puppy looked up at him, mouth slightly open as if it were smiling and happy to meet him.

  He curved one hand around the back of his neck. Drat, but it was a cute little thing. Mostly white with black splotches and one ear that didn’t seem to want to stand upright. Yet… He had absolutely no recollection of any disappointment over not getting a pup as a boy.

  He fought through the haze of memories from the days when he’d been fevered and laid up in bed. What had he said that had given her such an impression?

  He remembered first thinking that she was Ma. And he’d been asking Ma about—the realization hit him. Poppy!

  A chuckle burst free before he could stop it.

  Aurora clasped her fingers beneath her chin in that way she had when something thrilled her. “Oh! I knew you would be happy. I’m elated.”

  He reined in his humor and roughed a hand through his hair. He really ought to tell her to march this dog back to wherever she’d gotten it from. He didn’t have time for a dog! He was constantly on the go. Traveling out to the camps. Not to mention that on his meager salary it was just one more mouth to feed.

  But, hang it, one look at the sparkle in her eyes and he found himself saying, “Thank you. It’s very cute.”

  “She’s very cute. And yes, she is.”

  Perfect. Not only had she given him a dog, but a female one that might one day saddle him with a litter of puppies. “Does she have a name?”

  Aurora scratched the dog behind one ear. “Well, of course you can name her anything you want. But she’s a scrappy little thing with a lot of joy and energy. If I were to name her, I’d name her Allegra.”

  He frowned. He had no idea why that was a good name for a dog with ‘joy and energy.’

  Aurora withdrew her hand and tugged her coat closer about herself. “It’s a musical term, you see. Well, really the term is allegro, but that’s a male ending. So a female needs the feminine ending…” Her voice trailed away. “I sense you aren’t as thrilled with her as I first thought. Kin tried to tell me you didn’t want a dog, but you truly did say you wanted one when you were out of your mind with fever. Was I wrong?”

  He’d said he wanted Poppy? Confound it, that was no good. When was his heart going to get the message that she was obviously sti
cking to her guns? And all for many of the reasons that he’d been telling himself earlier were the wherefores of why he should never get married. Poppy didn’t want a pauper. She didn’t want a teetotaler. And she certainly didn’t want a man of the cloth.

  Realizing Aurora still waited for his answer, Preston considered his reply. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world. And that meant that suddenly he very much wanted this dog. “No. I’m just—you’ve taken me by surprise is all. Allegra will be a perfect addition to my life.”

  “So you’re not upset?”

  “Upset? How could I be upset about such a cute little critter.” He reached to pet the dog at the same moment she did. His hand fell on top of hers. Neither of them moved. They simply stood across the table from one another with his hand over top of hers.

  He’d never realized before that she had a callus on her chin. Likely from the violin she often played at church. A vision of him taking her face in his hands and placing a kiss on that callus popped into his mind. He pushed it away.

  Not today. But someday. And if he was surprised by the thought, it was no more than he was surprised by the realization that he cared for her deeply. And that those feelings were not as recent as he’d first thought.

  He let his thumb caress over her fingers.

  She flushed prettily as she snatched her hand from beneath his and shoved it in her coat pocket. “Merry Christmas, Parson Clay.”

  She’d slipped earlier and almost said his name and he suddenly very much wanted to hear her say it. “Preston. You can say it. I call you Aurora all the time.”

  She kicked at the snow. “That’s different.”

  He tilted his head. “Just this once then, as part of my Christmas present.”

  With her toe still diligently working at digging that hole in the snow, she lifted him a look from beneath her brows. “Fine then. Merry Christmas, Preston.”

  He grinned. “Merry Christmas, Aurora.”

  Dear Reader,

  I love writing this first foray into Preston and Aurora’s relationship. Their story is going to be the next full-length book in this series which will release next year called Songs in the Night. I can’t wait to show you that cover and share their story!

  If you enjoyed this novella, please leave the book a review. It doesn’t have to be long, but every review helps spread the word, and the world needs more uplifting stories!

  Wondering what’s going to happen with Kin’s send-off? And how all the Christmas presents are going to tie-up? The town of Wyldhaven always rallies around to support their own! And I’m sure you’ll be pleased by how all these novella’s tie together! I invite you to read the next episode of this series titled Kin Davis’s Christmas Send-Off. You can read a short excerpt of that story on the next page.

  You can find all the books in the Wyldhaven series here on my website.

  Merry Christmas!

  Chapter 1

  Kin Davis woke on Christmas morning with a pick-ax of pain beating at the inside of his skull. He moaned and rolled over—onto something hard and cold. He pushed back and pried one eye open. An empty, brown, embossed-glass whiskey bottle lay on the bed beside him. The cork sat on the nightstand that stood between his and Tommy’s beds.

  Kin grunted and reached for it, but just that little movement made the room sway like a bough in a storm. He changed course, flopped back to his pillow, and clutched his head instead.

  And what was that weight pinning his foot beneath the covers? He pushed at it to give his feet more room, but it didn’t budge.

  He lifted his head. Allegra, the black and white puppy Aurora had given to PC as a Christmas present yesterday, lay at the foot of his bed watching him. Her tail thumped up and down a few times, but other than that she didn’t move.

  He dropped his head back to the pillow. “Allegra. Bad girl. Get down.” There was no force to the words however, and the puppy knew it. She didn’t budge.

  PC had consigned her to a crate in the living room, but Kin had a vague recollection of hauling her up onto the bed in the middle of the night because she had wandered into their room and wouldn’t quit whimpering.

  From across the room, Tommy giggled. “L-Legra likes to sleep on y-your bed.”

  “Yeah.” Kin squeezed thumb and fingers to his temples.

  “P-PC not g-gonna l-like that b-bottle.”

  Remembering the cork, Kin fumbled a hand for it without looking.

  A fist pounded on the door, sending a railroad spike through Kin’s temples.

  “Merry Christmas, boys!” Parson Clay called, loudly. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes.”

  Right. It was Christmas Day and Zoe had organized that blasted going away party for him later this afternoon. He really needed to say something to the parson before then. He hadn’t even told him he was leaving yet.

  “I l-like breakfast.”

  Kin could hear Tommy scrambling out of bed and into his clothes.

  Even the puppy gave a yap and jumped down from his bed. He heard its claws scritching across the boards of the wood floor, and then in the next instant a sound like tinkling water filled the room.

  “Uh-oh!” Tommy exclaimed. “PC’s not g-gonna l-like that either.”

  With a knot of frustration in his stomach, Kin lifted his head. Sure enough, the puppy had relieved herself just to one side of their bedroom door. His lip curled. “If that’s her way of saying Merry Christmas, I hope she figures out a different way by this time next year.”

  Tommy laughed uproariously and slapped his thigh. “You funny, Kin.”

  Kin willed himself to push past the pain and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He would have to clean that up, but for the moment he couldn’t bring himself to move. All he had the gumption to do was cradle his head in his hands. “I’ll clean it, Tommy. Just go out carefully so you don’t step in it.”

  Kin sat very still as the door creaked open and Tommy and the puppy left. From the nausea that roiled every time he moved, he might be cleaning up more than puppy leavings by the time he was through. Why did he do this to himself?

  He heard movement by the door and glanced up.

  Parson Clay stood in the frame, hands propped on either side. He swept Kin with a disappointed glance and then dropped his focus to the floor. “Tommy, bring me that puppy.”

  Kin didn’t move all through the parson’s scolding of the puppy, his putting it outside on the rope he had tied off to the front step yesterday, and the commotion that went on as PC had Tommy help him clean up the puddle.

  Though he had planned to do it, in his current state, he was thankful that the parson had stepped in. He was also thankful that the puppy had jumped off his bed before offering her little Christmas surprise. The smell of the lye soap that the parson liked to use to scrub the floors was pungent, yet it had the smell of home about it.

  Kin frowned. Had he come to think of this place as home? It certainly had been a better home for him then what Pa had provided after Ma’s death. Ever since PC took him in, he’d had a warm bed and a full belly.

  PC never said a word the whole time he cleaned and scrubbed the floor. Kin was still sitting on the edge of his bed with his head and his hands when he heard PC’s distinctive footsteps approach and stop before him.

  Kin winced against the light as he looked up.

  PC stood with his hands on his hips, giving Kin that particular look he had whenever Kin had disobeyed one of his rules.

  “I’ve tried to help you, Kin. Given you Truth. Given you the only answer there is to a happy life. But you keep throwing it all away.” PC glanced down and kicked at a knot in one of the pine boards by his feet. “We can’t keep doing things the way we’ve been doing them.”

  Kin felt his guilt slam home. PC was right. The man had done more for him than anybody had since Ma’s death when he was twelve.

  “I’ve got Tommy to think of now, too,” PC continued. “He looks up to you, and the example you’re setting for him isn’t one I can let
slide.”

  Kin lifted the empty whiskey bottle from beside his pillow and set it on the bedside table. “You’re right. And that’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  He worked his jaw back and forth trying to come up with the right words. He’d been planning to move to Seattle for months now, but the truth was, now that it came down to it… He glanced at the whiskey bottle. Living with the parson at least made him exercise some restraint. If he headed out on his own and went to Seattle, would he degenerate into the man Pa had been at the end?

  Kin swallowed, suddenly realizing that was exactly what had been holding him back from making the announcement to PC. Sure, he’d mentioned his plans here and there to a few of his friends, but it was different to say those same words to this man who had essentially raised him for the past several years. The man who always made it so clear that Kin could do better. The man who’d never condoned, but always forgiven.

  “What’s that?” The parson’s question made him realize he had never finished his thought.

  Outside the puppy yapped to be let back in, and in the main room Kin heard Tommy open the front door and coo softly to the puppy. Kin fiddled with the top edge of his blanket. “I’m leaving. Moving to Seattle.” The brief flick of a glance he raised showed the parson’s teeth clamped and a bit of a flinty look in his green eyes.

  “I heard about the party. Wondered if you were even going to tell me. When are you planning on leaving?”

  Kin felt his shirt pocket. He’d fallen into bed fully clothed the night before. Sure enough, his ticket was still there. “I leave tomorrow. Bought my seat on the train yesterday.”

  The parson roughed a hand through his hair, leaving several sections poking up at odd angles. “Right. Well, it’s Christmas. You better come out and get some of my Christmas sausage pie. Then I have presents for you and Tommy.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and stomped away.