A Jensen Family Christmas

by William W. Johnstone

  He said, “All right,” and hauled back on the reins. Teddy scrambled out of the “fort” as the wagon came to a stop.

  Luke went on, “Just hop down right beside the wheel, though. Don’t wander off. Either of you other two need to go?”

  Bodie and Hannah told him they didn’t. Luke stood up on the driver’s box and held the Winchester ready as his eyes tried to penetrate the stubborn gathering darkness around them.

  “Mr. Jensen?”

  It took Luke a second to realize that Hannah was talking to him. He looked down at her and asked, “What is it? You decide you need to go, after all?”

  The little girl shook her head. She said, “No. I hear somebody singing.”

  Luke frowned. The wind was still making quite a bit of racket as it whipped through the trees. He was sure that this was what Hannah heard and that she had mistaken it for singing—

  “Herald angels—”

  “Newborn king—”

  Luke lifted his head. Danged if the wind didn’t sound like words there and there.

  “Peace on—”

  “You hear it?” asked Hannah, excited now. “It’s ‘Hark! the Herald Angels Sing.’”

  Luke surprised himself by feeling his spirits lift as he said, “You know, sweetheart, I believe you’re right. Teddy, are you done? Climb back in the wagon. All you kids crowd up here on the seat with me. You’re going to help me listen while we follow that song.”

  Luke took up the reins and started the wagon rolling through the gloom again, on the trail of that beloved Christmas carol.

  CHAPTER 38

  The Sugarloaf ranch house

  Platters of food filled the dining room table this evening, and seven of the chairs around it were occupied. Smoke sat at the head of the table, of course, with Sally to his right and Preacher to his left. Adelaide was next to Preacher. Ace, Chance, and Doc sat on the other side, with Sally. Smoke had just asked the blessing, and now everyone was digging into the meal Sally had prepared.

  Thick slices of ham, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, greens, and huge, fluffy biscuits were piled on plates. The music of silver and china counterpointed the conversation and laughter.

  Earlier, Preacher had introduced Ace and Chance to Adelaide DuBois and explained that she was an old friend of his, but he hadn’t gone into any detail about the problem with her grandson. Smoke knew that was because the old mountain man didn’t want to embarrass her.

  According to what Preacher had told him, Smoke also knew Adelaide was still worried about George showing up and causing trouble. He didn’t think that was likely, with so many fighting men now surrounding her. George would have to recruit an army of hired guns to reach her, and he didn’t have the money to do that. In the long run, he and Preacher might have to look up George DuBois and have a nice long talk with him, Smoke mused, but that could wait until after Christmas. For now, Adelaide was safe.

  And so was Doc Monday, at least apparently. The fact that somebody else had been in the clearing where Bill Malkin died continued to nag at Smoke’s brain. Was it possible Malkin had had a confederate in his pursuit of Doc? According to Doc, Malkin hadn’t had any friends at the MacMurphy Sanitarium, but the outlaw could have teamed up with a member of his old gang after running off from the sanitarium. Smoke couldn’t rule it out.

  That meant Doc might still be in danger . . . but now that Ace and Chance were on hand, Smoke was confident the brothers could look after him.

  Doc’s health was worrisome, too. Smoke wasn’t a doctor and had no idea what the long-term outlook was for somebody with Doc’s affliction, but he didn’t see how it could be good.

  As Smoke glanced over and caught Sally smiling at him, he told himself to stop worrying so dang much. He was surrounded by friends and family, and in a couple more days, it would be Christmas. This was a time for joyous celebration, not brooding. He smiled back at Sally.

  Preacher paused with his fork part of the way to his mouth and said, “You folks hear somethin’?”

  Smoke cocked his head to the side and listened. The others at the table assumed attentive attitudes, as well.

  “Come to think of it, I believe I do,” Smoke said. “It sounds like . . . singing.” He stood up. “I’d best go see what it’s all about.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Preacher said as he pushed his chair back.

  “So will we,” added Ace.

  Sally said, “You’re all ready for trouble, aren’t you? But it’s singing. I hardly think that’s a threat.”

  “You don’t ever know,” Smoke said.

  “Could be a trick o’ some sort,” Preacher said.

  The four men moved toward the foyer and the front door. Sally frowned after them for a second, then stood up and followed them. Smoke motioned her back, but she ignored him, strode past the men, and went to the front door. When she opened it, the deep-voiced strains of a Christmas carol filled the foyer.

  “Hark! the herald angels sing

  Glory to the newborn King!

  Peace on earth and mercy mild,

  God and sinner reconciled!”

  Smoke looked over Sally’s shoulder and grinned when he saw Pearlie, Cal, and the other members of the crew standing in the snow in front of the porch, hats in hand, as they sang. Sally stepped out onto the porch. Smoke and Preacher followed her, as well as Ace and Chance, and then Doc and Adelaide joined them, too.

  “Reckon we’re bein’ serenaded,” Preacher said as the cowboys continued to sing. They finished “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing” and launched into “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” On the porch, Adelaide clapped her hands in delight. Preacher slipped an arm around her shoulders as they listened.

  Smoke put his hands on Sally’s shoulders as he stood behind her. She leaned back against him and sighed in contentment. He put his mouth close to her ear and said, “I’ll bet this was Cal’s idea.”

  “Or Pearlie’s. He has a very sentimental nature, you know.”

  That was true. Pearlie had lived a hard life, spending years as a hired gun and almost an outlaw before meeting Smoke and settling down on the Sugarloaf. But often even hardcases like that had a soft interior, if anybody could ever get through all the tough bark outside.

  Whoever had come up with the idea of singing Christmas carols, Smoke was grateful to them. Sally looked positively radiant with happiness.

  Then movement out at the edge of the light that came from the house caught Smoke’s eye, and he stiffened. It would be just like some sort of threat to show up at a really nice moment such as this.

  Instead, a team of horses moved forward into the soft yellow light, pulling a wagon behind them. Smoke raised his eyes to the driver’s box and saw a man dressed all in black sitting there, handling the reins, with three much smaller figures beside him. The man’s head was down, so the brim of his black hat shielded his face for a moment, but then he looked up, as if realizing that he and his companions had arrived somewhere. Smoke saw the mustache and the familiar craggy features and exclaimed, “Luke!”

  The caroling cowboys fell silent at that and turned toward the newcomers. On the wagon, Luke hauled back on the reins and brought the vehicle to a stop. Sally had seen him, too, and she cried, “Luke!” as she went down the steps and hurried through the snow toward him.

  Smoke was right behind her. Luke looped the team’s reins around the brake lever, put a hand on the seat beside him, and jumped to the ground in time for Sally to throw her arms around him in a big hug.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said. “I hoped you’d get here before Christmas!”

  When Sally stepped back, Smoke clasped his older brother’s hand and pumped it, then drew Luke into a backslapping hug. Luke grinned as they broke apart. He thumbed his hat back and said, “Looks like you’ve got a full house. Hope you can find room for a few more.”

  “Of course we can,” Sally assured him. She looked at the three small figures still huddled on the seat. “Who in the world is this you have with yo
u?”

  “That’s Teddy, Hannah, and Bodie,” Luke said, pointing to each of the children in turn. Their pale, big-eyed faces looked a little apprehensive as they gazed at Smoke and Sally, who were strangers to them.

  Luke took care of that by continuing, “You kids, this big galoot is my little brother Smoke, and the pretty lady with him is his wife, Sally. Mr. and Mrs. Jensen. This is their place.”

  “And you’re all very welcome here,” Sally told them with a welcoming smile. She glanced at Luke. “Brothers and a sister?”

  “Yep. Their last name is Trafford. They traveled over here with me from Utah.”

  Smoke had a hunch there was a lot more to the story than that, but whatever it was, it could wait. He said, “If you came all the way from Utah at this time of year, you must be plumb frozen by now. Come on inside and start warming up.” He looked toward the members of the crew, who had been singing a few minutes earlier. “Pearlie, have a couple of men take care of this team and wagon.”

  “Sure thing, Smoke,” the foreman replied. “Cal and me will do it ourselves, won’t we, Cal?”

  “I suppose,” the young cowboy answered with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

  “Come on,” said Pearlie. “Christmas is more than singin’ carols. It’s helpin’ folks out, too. Ain’t you got the Christmas spirit, Cal? You was the one tellin’ me about that just a few days ago, remember?”

  Cal grinned and said, “Yeah, sure. Don’t worry, Luke. We’ll take care of things.”

  “I’m obliged to you, boys,” Luke said. He lifted Teddy down from the seat, then Hannah. Bodie scrambled off by himself. Sally took charge of the children and started herding them toward the house. With the light shining from it and the promise of warmth, it was like a beacon in the snowy night.

  Luke extended his hand to the old mountain man and said, “Preacher, good to see you again, as always.”

  “You still bounty huntin’?” Preacher asked as they shook.

  “That’s all I know how to do.” Luke turned to Ace and Chance and went on, “Hello, boys. I figured you’d be here.”

  “I just hope we’re not intruding, since we’re not blood relations,” Ace said as he shook hands.

  Smoke clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ve told you about that. We’re all family here, and all are welcome.” He looked at Luke. “That goes for those three youngsters, too . . . although I do want to hear about how you came to be traveling with them.”

  “That’s a story for later. It’s not very . . . festive, let’s say.”

  Smoke nodded and said, “I thought it might be something like that.” He leaned a head toward the house. “Well, come on inside. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Adelaide had gone inside with Sally and the children, but Doc still stood on the porch, holding on to the railing. As the others approached, Luke asked, “Who’s that?”

  “Doc Monday,” Chance said.

  “Your pa?”

  “Not actually our father,” said Ace. “The man who raised us, though.”

  “Yeah, I remember now. I thought he was in some hospital.”

  “Sanitarium,” Chance said.

  “Then what’s he doing here?”

  “That’s another one of those stories that’s not very festive,” Ace said.

  Luke nodded and said, “Then we’ll just leave it all for later.” He went up the steps and held out his hand to Doc. “I’m Luke Jensen. Heard a lot about you, Doc. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “And I’ve heard—” Doc began, but then he stopped short and just clasped Luke’s hand. “Good to meet you, too.”

  Smoke noticed Doc’s hesitation but didn’t know what to make of it. Nor did it seem overly important at the moment. He ushered everyone inside, saying, “Luke, you and those youngsters got here just in time. We’re having supper, and there’s plenty to go around.”

  “We interrupted your Christmas concert, though,” Luke said. “We heard the singing from a ways off and followed it in. Having something to guide us was mighty handy on a snowy night like this.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Pearlie and Cal and the other fellas about that,” Smoke said as he rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “They’ll be pleased that they helped you find your way home.”

  Luke nodded and said with a touch of wistfulness in his voice, “I reckon the Sugarloaf is as close as I’ll ever come to having one of those.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Smoke and Luke stayed up late that night, talking. Smoke told his brother about Don Juan Sebastian Aguilar and his so-called land grant claim to the Sugarloaf, and Luke explained how he had come to be responsible for three children under the age of ten.

  “Never had any kids of my own,” Luke concluded gruffly, “but I reckon this is like having grandkids, in a way. I’m damn sure too old for them to be mine!”

  “You thought maybe Sally could help find families willing to take them in, I suppose,” Smoke said.

  Luke shook his head and said emphatically, “No, not families. A family. For too much of their lives, those three young’uns have been all each of them really had. From what I heard, their ma wasn’t too bad, but they’ve grown up relying on each other. They shouldn’t be split up now.”

  “I agree with you,” Smoke said with a nod. “And I’m sure Sally will, too, when we talk to her about it. If there’s anybody around here who can find a good home for them, she’s the one.”

  “You know, it’s about time you and her started thinking about a family of your own,” Luke said.

  Smoke chuckled. “We’ve talked about it. And I reckon that day is going to come, sooner rather than later.”

  “First, though, you’ve got to deal with that fella Aguilar. I know better than to think you’re going to let him steal the Sugarloaf out from under you.”

  “Preacher was ready to go to war a couple of days ago, after those ambushes. So were Pearlie and Cal and the other boys. The only reason we haven’t ridden into Big Rock for a showdown with Aguilar and his hired guns is that Sally has her heart set on a peaceful family Christmas for a change. I’m doing the best I can to give that to her. But once the holiday is over . . .”

  “Then you’ll settle things with Aguilar,” Luke finished for him.

  “Whatever it takes,” Smoke said.

  “You know you can count on my help.”

  “I never doubted that.”

  “And I reckon those two Jensen boys, Ace and Chance, will back whatever play you make, too,” Luke said. “They’re pretty much members of the family now.”

  “That’s what we’ve told them.” Smoke put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the comfortable chair in the parlor where he had been sitting. The lamp was turned low, casting a soft light that didn’t quite fill the corners of the room. “I guess we’d better turn in. You must be tired after that long trip from Utah.”

  “It was a mite wearisome,” Luke admitted. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Smoke nodded and left the room to head upstairs. Luke started to follow, but before he could climb the stairs, a figure stepped out of the shadows that now filled the dining room.

  “Luke,” Doc Monday said quietly, “could I have a word with you?”

  Luke frowned a little, surprised that Doc hadn’t already gone up to bed. Doc was frail, the sort of fellow who needed a lot of rest. Also, Luke couldn’t think of anything Doc would have to talk to him about, let alone in a somewhat secretive manner like this.

  There was an easy way to clear it up, though. Luke said, “Sure, Doc, if you want. Is this about that outlaw, Bill Malkin? Smoke told me about the trouble you had with him. I recognize the name, but he and I never crossed trails, and I never set out to collect the bounty on him—”

  Doc held up a hand to stop him. The gambler shook his head and said, “No, this isn’t about outlaws or bounties or anything like that. Can we step out onto the front porch?”

  “It’s cold out there,” Luke
warned. “Well below freezing by now, I’d say.”

  “I know. But I want this conversation to be just between the two of us, for now, anyway.”

  That was puzzling, too, thought Luke. He said, “Get your coat. Whatever you want is fine with me, Doc.”

  They put their coats on but left their hats in the house as they stepped outside. Their breath fogged in the cold air, creating substantial clouds in front of their faces, as they buried hands in pockets and stood there looking out at the snow, which was still falling heavily.

  “What’s this about, Doc?” Luke asked bluntly. “I’ve heard the boys talk about you before, but you and I just met a few hours ago. I can’t see that we’d have anything to talk about requiring this much secrecy.”

  Doc said, “We may have just met, but there’s a connection between us that goes back a long time, Luke. More than twenty years, in fact.”

  Luke shook his head and said, “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Those boys you just mentioned. Ace and Chance.”

  “What about them?”

  “I knew their mother, back in Denver. A mutual friend of ours suggested that she look me up, and when she did, the two of us hit it off right away.”

  “The boys’ mother, was she a gambler, too, or a—”

  Again, Doc held up a hand to stop him. The gesture was curt this time, almost angry.

  “If you’re about to ask if she was a whore, don’t,” Doc said. “You’ll understand why in a minute. In fact, back in Missouri, where she came from, she had been a schoolteacher. Her name was Lettie. Lettie Margrabe.”

  Luke’s heart thudded hard. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t have been any more shocked if Doc had hauled off and punched him. He couldn’t find any words to say.

  “You know the name, don’t you?” Doc asked softly. “You can probably guess what I’m about to say. She told me about a young man she was in love with in Missouri. He went off to war, and only after he was gone did she realize that the two of them had made a son together. Well, two sons—”