Too Old for Christmas

by Zina Abbott

  “’Tis good, Jesse. Sure I am ‘tis a big help to your ma.”

  As soon as Sean saw Ona wrap a cloth around the handle of the heavy cast iron frying pan on the stove, he stepped over to take it from her. “Where be you wanting it, Mrs. McNair?”

  “On the trivet on the table.” Upon looking over and seeing no trivet, Ona quickly reached for the metal ring and a cloth pad which she set in the center of the table. She stepped outside and brought in a crockery pitcher filled with milk and covered with a cloth which she set at the corner of the table next to where she had seated Sean the previous week.

  After the prayer on the food, Sean gave in to his instinct to visibly inhale the aroma of the food before him. “What delight have you prepared for us this day, Mrs. McNair?”

  “Finely diced pork in mashed potatoes with sauté onions and steamed apples on the side. They are cut small and are soft enough I don’t think you’ll have problems eating them, Mr. Flood, especially now your mouth has had a week to heal. I hope it is acceptable to you.”

  “’Tis more than acceptable, Mrs. McNair.” Sean muttered his approval as he gummed and swallowed his first bite of apples.

  The table grew quiet in appreciation as all four consumed the food before them. Ona topped off the main course with a custard flavored with a smidge of ground nutmeg.

  “’Tis food for a prince, Mrs. McNair.” Completely satiated, Sean leaned back in his chair to relieve the pressure on his too-full stomach. “Tell me now, where would you be learning to cook like this? I know you be not learning this as a society lady, for you’d be having no need to be stepping in the kitchen except to be discussing the menu with the cook. Were you raised in a kitchen learning to cook?”

  Ona’s eyes dropped to her lap, her face pinked as she carefully chose the words to answer Sean. “I’m not a society lady. When I was growing up, I was taught every way imaginable how to cook different meals using potatoes and milk. As I grew older, I worked for a time as a cook’s assistant in the home of a wealthy family back east. That was before I traveled to Fort Kearney and married the boys’ father.”

  Without a word, Sean studied Ona, curious about her statement. He mulled in his mind how he could go about learning more of how she ended up marrying Mr. McNair. Enough had been hinted at by the boys’ comments for him to guess it had not been a happy marriage for her.

  “I’ll be helping you and the boys clear the table and clean up, Mrs. McNair. The air be brisk, but shan’t be too cold ‘til the sun be going down. There be something I’d be wanting to show you whilst the boys be visiting the mules.”

  “You don’t need to help, Mr. Flood. I can get it later…”

  But Sean was already on his feet picking up the plates while directing Jesse to gather the cups and Benjy to take the almost empty jug of milk back outside to stay cool, reminding him to make sure it stayed covered.

  “I need a springhouse,” Ona said, regret lacing her voice, as she scooped enough food for the next day’s noon meal into Sean’s lunch bucket. “But without direct access to water on my property, I don’t dare build it along one of the canals. I’m afraid passersby will help themselves, and I can’t afford to give food to every hungry miner.”

  Sean bit his lip and said nothing. His property bordered one of the seasonal creeks. He had not thought of building a springhouse before, but now considered it a possibility. Perhaps he could rig something inside the well he intended to build.

  Once the cabin was set back to rights and, at Ona’s insistence, the dirty dishes were left in the dishpan to soak, Sean relieved Ona of his lunch bucket with one hand while he offered her his other arm.

  “Where are we going, Mr. Flood?” an excited Benjy asked.

  “We be walking to my cabin, boys. You can visit the mules and be giving them their evening feed whilst I show your ma something.”

  “Did you get the roof on your cabin yet, Mr. Flood?”

  Sean turned to Jesse who had asked the last question. “Nay. ‘Tis busy I’ve been working on something more necessary.”

  Jesse’s face scrunched in puzzlement as he considered Sean’s words. “You mean…Mr. Flood, did you finish building your necessary? Are you taking Ma up to your place to see the necessary?”

  “Aye, Jesse. To both.”

  “Honestly, Mr. Flood,” Ona broke in. “The necessary? You’re taking me to see your necessary?”

  “Aye.”

  “What about your roof?” asked Jesse. “Are you finished with your roof yet?”

  “Nay. It still be covered with canvas like your place, albeit I’ve fixed it so it won’t be blowing away like it did the day I had my tooth pulled. Soon as I be finishing the job on the candlemaker’s place, I be taking the mules down to the sawmill to pick up my boards to nail across the rafters. ‘Til then I be working on splitting my shingles.”

  “I thought you were splitting all your boards,” said a puzzled Jesse.

  “Changed my mind, now didn’t I? Decided I’ve good reason to have smooth, tight-fitting boards on my roof.”

  “Well, I think you should show Ma your roof. Or your shingles. She doesn’t want to see some old necessary,” Jesse declared. Benjy giggled in response.

  “Nay. ‘Tis necessary. Besides, ‘tis a new necessary. ’Twas her idea and ‘twas her doing to get me moving to get it done. ‘Tis only right she be seeing the good she’s been bringing about.”

  “Mr. Flood, I fear you are making a mockery of me. I truly did not mean to interfere. It’s just….”

  “Nay, I’d never mock you.”

  Jesse shook his head. “I never heard of any man doing something like this, Mr. Flood. I thought maybe you were stepping out with Ma. But, you can’t be if all you’re going to do is take her to see some smelly old necessary.”

  “What do you mean about Mr. Flood stepping out with Ma, Jesse?” asked a still giggly Benjy.

  “He’s not meaning anything, Benjy. Mayhap ‘tis best if you and Jesse be going on ahead and say hi to Hattie and Boomtown. Your ma and I’ll be coming behind you.”

  “It means he’s courting Ma, but he’s not doing a very good job of it.” Jesse gave Sean a disgusted look. He then turned to run after Benjy who had already started to sprint up the hill to the mules’ corral.

  Sean watched them, a grin on his face, surprised at Jesse’s perception at such a young age.

  The question softly voiced by the woman walking next to him drew his attention back to Ona. “And is it your intent to step out with me, Mr. Flood?”

  “Aye. If you’ll be allowing it.”

  “To court me?”

  “Mayhap. If you’ll be allowing it.

  “By taking me to see a necessary?”

  “Aye. Like I been saying, ‘tis necessary you see the necessary, Mrs. McNair. I be wanting you to know I be taking you seriously where your boys be concerned. You told young Jesse to dig a pit so you won’t be worrying about young Benjy running into poison oak. I took it you be needing me to finish the job. You can be deciding for yourself if meets your requirements.”

  Sean watched Ona glance at his face, perhaps suspicious of his words. Once more he mentioned her “requirements.” He smiled in an effort to convince her he was not making fun of her. He wanted to show her he took her concerns seriously.

  Ona turned her head and stared straight ahead. “Your concerns are very thoughtful, Mr. Flood. And, I’ll allow it.”

  “You’ll be allowing what, Mrs. McNair? Me showing you the necessary?”

  “If you must. I meant, you may step out with me.”

  Sean grinned as he gave one last glance at the boys peering through the rails at the mules as he led Ona to the other side of his cabin. He slowly walked her towards the rough boards of the outside walls. They circled the small structure in the light of the sun sinking towards the foothills separating Columbia from Springfield, Tuttletown and the great central valley of California to the west. He opened the door to reveal the wooden seat with its circular hole cut i
n the center.

  “’Twas my best work, seeing there be no splinters inside to snag clothes. And for the seat ‘twas milled lumber I used and sanded the edges making it smooth to the touch. So, be it meeting your approval, Mrs. McNair?”

  One shook her head, her eyes twinkling. Unable to suppress a smile, she softly assured him, “I appreciate your attention to detail, Mr. Flood. Yes, it meets my requirements. I must admit I never before would have considered a tour of a necessary a worthwhile destination while stepping out with a gentleman, but I thank you for demonstrating your efforts to care for my family when they come to visit.”

  “Aye, well then, ‘tis clear you’ve never been stepping out with the likes of me, now isn’t it? Be you caring to sit ‘til ‘tis time to rescue the mules from the boys?”

  “In the necessary?” Ona turned eyes wide with disbelief on Sean.

  “Nay. ‘Twas my thinking rock I be talking of. ‘Tis the best seat on my land.”

  Sean led Ona over to an oblong boulder sticking out of the ground at about the height of a stool. Its width barely allowed enough room for the two of them to sit side-by-side. To protect her navy blue skirt from the dust, Sean pulled out his large handkerchief and spread it over the flattest section of the natural stone bench. He took Ona’s hand as he helped her sit before he settled next to her.

  Sean looked over to see she faced forward, focused on the pink clouds shrouding the sun. His gaze followed hers, barely appreciating the sight as his senses sizzled and his longing for her grew at the feel of her arm and hip pressed against his.

  Her words jarred him back to the present and he turned his head to face her. “You have done well on your cabin, Mr. Flood. It looks well-constructed.”

  “’Twas a lot of work, but ‘twill keep me snug once the roof be on.”

  You and your sons be needing a snug cabin like this, not some rotting canvas tent.

  They lapsed again into silence. Searching for something to say, Sean thought back on the scene earlier in the tent. “’Twas good seeing Jesse helping you chopping the kindling. And here Jesse told me he’d not used a hatchet before.”

  “He hadn’t until you showed him how. I worried he was too young and might hurt himself. But since he said he chopped kindling for you, I decided he could take over the task for me.”

  “’Tis true he be old enough to know a hatchet be a tool, not a toy. And, with the boy being too old for Christmas, he be old enough to take on more of a man’s responsibilities.”

  Sean watched Ona closely to see how his words affected her. She stiffened and her head lifted as she inhaled, her chin jutting out defiantly, pain radiating from her eyes. “I didn’t say it to hurt him. I was wanting him…he needed to understand our situation so he would not expect something I’m unable to provide. I didn’t want him to be disappointed Christmas morning. I felt it would be better he suffer his disappointment earlier and have time to get over it beforehand.”

  “Aye, I guessed your reason for telling him. But ‘tis best you know whether the boy be old enough to use the hatchet or nay, he’ll be having his Christmas.” He softened his next words. “I’ll be helping you make a Christmas for him—for you all. Will you be allowing me to share Christmas Eve dinner with you and the boys?”

  Seconds of silence passed before Ona turned back to him as she responded. “I hope my situation will change by the time Christmas comes so I will have something for both my boys. Of course you will be invited for Christmas Eve dinner, Mr. Flood. You are stepping out with me, are you not?”

  “Aye.”

  “And I’m sure there will be leftovers we can enjoy Christmas Day.”

  I be looking for more than leftovers Christmas Day, Ona McNair.

  As Sean stared in the blue orbs surrounded by thick dark lashes, he felt an almost irresistible urge to place his hand on Ona’s back and slide his fingers into her hair under her chignon. Almost all rational thought fled his mind as he considered pulling her towards him and kissing her with all the longing he felt welling up inside him. He desired to press her lips wide, and to run his tongue over her bare gums. Had they healed smooth as glass? Or, had they settled in a series of berms and furrows.

  And what think you be, boyo? A surveyor, now, be you?

  Ona McNair may be a poor, struggling widow, but Sean knew she had been educated and raised in a higher rung of society than him. She would not appreciate nor respond well if he acted upon his fantasies. He felt too much respect for her to try.

  Ona turned to face Sean, a puzzled expression on her face as she studied him.

  “What is it, Mr. Flood? Was there something else?”

  Aye, but ‘twill wait.

  Once again, a feeling of uncertainty settled over Sean. The realization he did not know how to act properly around a woman who captured his interest momentarily shook his confidence. But the desire dominating his thoughts during the past week mushroomed within him.

  Mayhap ‘twill not wait.

  In spite of his fear of making a fool of himself, Sean decided to take the chance.

  “I be thinking, Mrs. McNair, since you be agreeable to stepping out with me, I’d be considering it a kindness if you’d be letting me kiss you. But only if you be allowing it.”

  His anticipation heightened as Sean watched Ona’s eyes while she considered his words. First they widened with surprise. Next they took on a thoughtful look. His heart swelled with triumph and he forced himself to patiently wait the moment he realized she decided to let him kiss her.

  “You may, Mr. Flood. Since you have declared to two little boys who will not let you forget your stated intent of stepping out with me…that you are courting me…I will allow it.”

  Sean’s next dilemma centered on how to go about it. He didn’t want to frighten her by acting too boldly, or by behaving in any manner that might offend her. He soon realized he needn’t have worried. As he leaned towards Ona, he felt her lips quickly join his. He wrapped his arms around her at the same time he felt her fists grab the soft wool of his shirt. She moved into his embrace. Next, the flat of her palms grazed his chest and shoulders as they traveled upward to wrap around his neck. His mind and body only registered the intensity of her kiss, a kiss matching his in passion.

  Ona’s lips parted, inviting a deeper kiss, if such was possible. Unable to resist, Sean tentatively slid his tongue in just far enough to feel along the ridge of her bottom gum with the bottom of his tongue. He slid it along the bottom edge towards the back of her mouth. As his tongue met the barrier of her inner cheek, he curled the tip up and ran it along her upper gum back around to the front of her mouth until it met her upper incisor on the right side.

  Aye, smooth as silk, but still I be able to feel where her teeth used to be.

  As soon as he sensed the slight pull in Ona’s body, he loosened his grip enough to allow her to sit up straight. Sean worried his heart would pound out of his chest. He swallowed, then sucked air into his starving lungs. Watching Ona, his stomach twisted in knots of apprehension. Would she spurn him for being so bold?

  An amused smirk danced along Ona’s lips. “Did you discover what you wished to know, Mr. Flood?”

  “Aye. You be healed well, Mrs. McNair. “Tis nice and smooth your gums be.”

  “It is thoughtful of you to determine that for me, Mr. Flood, although I already came to the same conclusion myself.”

  Sean swallowed again. Somehow, by a means unknown to him, he managed to hold his voice steady.

  “‘Tis no harm in a second opinion, now is there?”

  Ona covered her mouth with her palm and her shoulders shook with laughter. Seconds later she sat up straight once more, and turned back to face Sean, amusement dancing in her eyes.

  “No, I suppose not. Especially when it comes after such a pleasant…examination…from a man who is stepping out with me. Since we are courting, Mr. Flood, and we have kissed, I find it allowable for you to call me Ona. If you’ve a mind to.”

  You’ve not much mind
left after her kiss, boyo, but there be no need you saying so.

  Now he had her in his arms, Sean felt loathe to let her go. He once again pulled her closer him, his voice, hoarse with longing as he whispered in her ear. “‘Tis pleasing to me, Ona. I’d consider it a kindness if you be calling me Sean. And, if you be wanting to study my gums to see if they be healed yet, I’d be allowing it.” He pulled his head back to glimpse her reaction. At her raised eyebrow and questioning smile, he continued. “For medicinal purposes, now isn’t it? But only if you be finding it agreeable.”

  A glint of understanding sparked in Ona’s eyes as she fought to suppress a grin.

  “I’d find it quite agreeable, Sean,” Ona once again moved to join him in a kiss. Her body pressed tightly against his chest. Just before her lips enveloped his, she whispered, “for medicinal purposes.”

  At the sounds of the boys’ voices approaching, the pair split apart. Ona tugged her collar in place and reached to her chignon to tuck back in any loose locks escaping their pins. She looked into Sean’s eyes still filled with the same light of desire that also brightened hers.

  “I believe it is time to rescue your mules.”

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  Chapter 7

  ~o0o~

  N

  o one was more relieved than Sean that Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday that year. On Saturday, while many of his friends celebrated the coming holiday by heading for the saloons after work, his first stop had been the Columbia Mercantile where he spent the larger part of his week’s wages on Christmas gifts.

  Nay, they not all be gifts. Jesse and Benjy worked to earn their coats, now didn’t they?

  But, Sean bought more for the boys as well as a gift for Ona. It was a selfish gift considering she prepared his meals, but he knew she would appreciate it.

  Sean had another gift in mind for Ona, but it came with strings attached. Would she accept it under his terms, or turn it down?

  Sean’s stomach coiled with apprehension at the thought. She had been behaving differently towards him the past two weeks, acting like she was trying to pull away from him personally without rejecting the work he provided.