“What’s wrong?” Chad glanced over his shoulder.
“You celebrate the Christ’s Mass?”
“We don’t call it that, but yes. Don’t you?” His brows lowered to a frown.
She shook her head. “Such celebrations have been banned in the old country for more than two hundred years. Since Parliament set down the prohibition during Cromwell’s rule.” Her explanation sounded like a history lesson.
“Please tell me you don’t abide by that ruling.”
Hearing him say please was nice. Truthfully, she’d always felt left out of something special at the holidays because her family only celebrated Hogmanay at the New Year and then Burns’ Night later in January. “I guess I dinna have to.”
He grinned. “You live in America, so be an outlaw and join us for a trip to the mountains.”
“Yay, I want to go to the mountains.” Lance jumped up and down.
Guinie bounced and her braid flopped over one shoulder. “Me, too.”
Spending daylight hours together sounded wonderful. Normally, she had about an hour’s conversation with him each evening. “What is needed?”
“Winter gear against the cold and maybe a sack with bannocks or scones and apples for a snack.”
After a flurry of rushing around, the family was on their way in the wagon. The team pranced through the thin layer of fallen snow, plumes of steam blowing from their noses.
Vika was glad for the assault of the bairns’ questions. She learned about this Rutherford tradition right along with Guinie who asked the biggest number.
Chad laughed and told her again and again that she really had been on the trip the previous year, and she’d watched as he cut down their tree.
Any activity that produced his deep laugh was a favorite of Vika’s. She hunched her shoulders against the cold and reached toward her lap to scratch under Biscuit’s chin.
The incline of the foothill forced the horses to slow.
The view was spectacular, but several times, she looked over her shoulder to keep the smoke rising from their chimney in sight. Otherwise, she felt swallowed up by the wilderness surrounding her.
“Whoa.” Chad pulled back on the reins then set the brake. “Over in that grouping, we should find one we like.” Moments later, he was in the midst of negotiations with the bairns on which was the best tree.
For youngsters, they voiced strong opinions about branch density and height. Toting Biscuit, who’d had enough of the snow on her paws, Vika followed the group and inhaled the wonderful pine scent. She listened for clues about what was done with the tree once it was in the house. Decorations were mentioned, but no’ much else. Being included in the outing made her happy, and she refused to state an opinion. Maybe next year when they all knew each other better.
Rounding a tree, she ran into Chad. “Sorry.”
“I was waiting.” He set a gloved hand on her shoulder to steady her then lifted his other hand over her head.
She glanced up to see a spring of greenery then glanced back.
He inched closer. “Know what this means?”
The scent of leather and cold clung to him. “Nay.”
“If a man catches a woman under this mistletoe, then he steals a kiss.” He bent his head.
With pulse racing, she puckered her lips and waited. Cool lips pressed against hers, and she swayed. Grabbing hold of his jacket for support, she rose on tiptoes to keep their mouths fused, no’ wanting the ripples of warmth singing through her body to stop.
When he pulled away, he winked and tucked the sprig into his jacket pocket. “For later use.”
On the ride down the hill, the bairns munched on apple slices and cold tattie scones.
Still tingling from the kiss, Vika tore off bits of her scone and fed Biscuit.
“I appreciate you coming along, Vika.” Chad crunched on an apple.
“Of course. I’m curious about yer traditions.” Most of all, she wanted to know when he’d again invoke the custom of the mistletoe.
“I also wanted Lance and Guinie to have a fun day before my trip.”
He was leaving? “Yer trip? Where?”
“The order of Army blankets for the fort is almost done. I have to deliver them by the twentieth to meet my deadline and get paid.”
“Yer leaving me?” As she said the words, she heard the echo of how she’d despaired before finding the matrimonial ad.
He turned to look her way, his gaze searching her face. “Only for a few days.”
“How few?” She thought of the milking and the hens and watching the bairns by herself. The tasks seemed overwhelming.
“Two days’ travel each way to the fort south of Montrose and back. Add at least another day to deliver the order and negotiate the next one.”
Five whole days. “Oh.” She slumped. Had he accounted for bad weather?
“Benat and Neria will be nearby. You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
“This contract makes up half of our income, Vika. The trip is essential.” He bit the last flesh from the apple then tossed it aside. “I can pick up supplies, if you need anything.”
“Ye’ll be the one to tell the bairns?”
He nodded. “But not until the night before. And I’ll promise them I’ll be back for Christmas.”
By Vika’s calculations, Chad should have been home sometime Thursday evening. But Saturday, Christmas Eve, dawned with him still gone. He’d told her to stretch out the tree decorating so he could participate by adding the last few upon his return. Finally, she’d hidden the remaining ornaments to stop the bairns’ begging to finish.
Yesterday, she’d kept them busy by helping her prepare the Dundee Cake to take to the church service. The cake was her mother’s favorite, and she always felt close when she baked the dark cake filled with fruit and nuts. Blanching the almonds was the only task they couldna do. Being inventive, she supervised them chopping nuts by using a hammer.
Finally, a knock came on the front door.
He’s home! Her heart beat fast, then she realized he wouldn’t knock on his own door.
“I’m here.” Benat stepped inside and pulled his gloves to hold his hands near the fireplace. “Ready, Miss Vika?”
“Coming.” In her bedroom, Vika scooped Biscuit from the bed, kissed her furry head, and secured her in the wicker basket. “Guinie, come quick, lassie. Use the chamber pot. Lance, please get on yer coat and wait in the sitting room.”
After helping Guinie and sending her downstairs, Vika gave a quick look in the mirror at her burgundy dress with black cording accents. She lifted a hand toward the twist at the back of her head then dropped it. The person who she primped for wasn’t here, so why bother?
Sitting in the church with the bairns pressed to her sides filled Vika with a contentment she hadn’t enjoyed for years. The other parishioners knew the words to the special holiday hymns. Although she stumbled through the singing and chatting with virtual strangers during the social hour, she felt part of this community—even if her heart ached at missing her husband.
The ride home in the buggy flew by because Benat and Neria entertained the children with Basque songs. During Chad’s absence, Vika interacted with the couple more often, and her envy of the coming baby disappeared.
Only a sliver of moon shared the cloudless sky with thousands of twinkling stars. She looked out the side of the buggy and wondered if Chad was traveling under the same stars. Closing her eyes, she repeated the prayer she’d whispered in church for his safe return. How could she face Christmas morning without him? What would she tell the bairns?
The buggy slowed to a stop at the porch. Vika glanced at the faint glow showing in the upstairs hallway. Her heart leapt. Chad must be home. “Come, Lance and Guinie. Let’s get inside. I think a surprise is waiting.” She accepted Benat’s help in handing out the lad and lassie then scrambled out behind them. “Good night, and thank you for driving us.”
“Merry Christmas, Vika.” Neria smiled and
waved as Benat urged the horses toward the barn.
“Merry Christmas to you both.” The words felt strange coming from her mouth. Then she hurried to the front door and collected the key from the depths of her reticule. In Chad’s absence, she’d reverted to her Lincoln habits of securing the entry.
As soon as the door opened, the bairns ran inside the dim room.
“Where is it?” Lance looked around him.
Biscuit barked in response to their sounds.
The moment she stepped across the threshold and closed the door, Vika stilled at the scent of cigarette smoke. Her stomach clenched. “Wait. Stay nearby.” She reached for a match to light the closest lamp and the shadows retreated to the corner of the sitting room.
“Miss Vika, I want my surprise.” Guinie stood a few feet away with hands fisted.
A board creaked upstairs, followed by a heavy tread in the hallway.
“Daddy’s home. That’s our surprise.” Lance ran toward the staircase.
“Nay, Lance.” Vika dashed forward and grabbed his arm. “Dinna go upstairs.”
Dirty boots came into view first. “I’m nobody’s daddy.” Then Roy descended and stopped on the bottom step. “Evening, Vika.” A cigarette hung from his lips, and he inhaled a puff.
“What are ye doing in me house, Roy McFie?” She slid Lance behind her and held out her hand to where she’d last seen Guinie. Blood pounded in her ears. The clasp of Guinie’s small hand in hers sent a wave of relief through her body.
He blew smoke from his nostrils and narrowed his gaze. “Told you I want those jewels, and I’m not leaving until I get them.”
Poor Biscuit kept up a steady warning bark, but she dinna dare release her. She straightened, not wanting Roy to see how scared she was. “And I told ye Mother had them with her at the hotel.”
“I don’t think so. In my experience, women don’t take all their valuables on a trip.”
“My family was no’ wealthy, Roy. And ye well know that.” She stepped to the side, hoping to get the bairns settled on the davenport.
“This ranch here is real nice. Bet your husband has valuables or some cash stashed away somewhere.” Roy strode toward the desk and pulled out drawers. He rifled through the contents, sending some fluttering to the floor. “Maybe in here.”
Vika breathed a bit easier. Perhaps he’d not found her furniture money hidden beneath the rug under her bed.
“Miss Vika, I don’t like that man.”
“Shush, Guinie. Everything will be fine.”
Roy flicked the cigarette butt into the fireplace. “Build up that fire then make me something to eat.” He settled onto the davenport, resting his arms along the top of the cushions. His jacket fell open, displaying two holstered revolvers.
“Stay next to me.” Vika moved to the fireplace and added a thick log, doing her best to keep her body between the bairns and Roy. Chad would never forgive her if she let something happen to them. Her mind raced with ways to get them safely away. Maybe she could send the bairns out the back door and tell them to run for the Pasquales’ wagon. On her way to the kitchen, she heard him following, and hopes for her plan faded.
Reheating food proved tough with the weight of two bairns pressed along her legs. As best she could, she touched a thin shoulder or rested a hand on a wee head to reassure them.
He stomped around the kitchen, opening cupboards as he walked. “What’s in the pan?”
She turned the patties and looked over her shoulder. He’d found the whiskey and poured himself a glass. “Lorne sausage and mashed neeps.”
“Doncha got any steak and potatoes?” He tipped up the glass and took a couple swallows.
Seeing him occupied with the whiskey, she eased the children back toward the dining room. “I have to go outside for the steak.” She took a big step toward the back door then screamed at the tug on her braid.
“No, you don’t.” Roy pulled her against his chest. “You just put some food on a plate. After I make sure the kids are locked away, you and I will have some fun.”
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Whatever she had to do, she would not let him hurt her wee bairns.
Chapter Eleven
Steam clouded from the team’s nostrils and dissipated into the cold air. The horses plodded along, pulling the wagon along the muddy path through the shadowy trees. Not much moonlight lit their way but the route was familiar. Twin lanterns swinging from the sides of the driver’s seat helped.
Chad stopped the team at the top of the rise leading in his valley. “Five minutes’ rest and then we go the last few miles home.” He reached for the canteen on the seat, uncorked it, and sipped at the cool water. Normally, he avoided driving at night, but he couldn’t help it. Being delayed to take care of needed repairs to the whippletree was unavoidable, but the lost time still nagged at his conscience.
Before saying goodbye, he’d made a promise to his kids. No matter how tired he was, he would reach the ranch tonight so he could wake them up on Christmas morning. Even if his kids were young enough that they probably didn’t know the importance of today or that their father should have been home two days ago. He trusted Vika to have kept them busy and distracted. She possessed a quality of making everyday chores fun. The trait was one he admired. He straightened. Admiration was darn close to liking. The realization grabbed his chest. I trust, admire, and like Vika. Given more time, could I love her, too?
A horse stomped its hoof and shook her head.
After looping the canteen strap over his thigh, Chad snapped the reins. “Get up, Lady. Move on, Princess.”
Angling downhill, he braced a boot on the front of the driver’s box. He narrowed his gaze on the horses’ hooves, watching for any sign of slippage. Wouldn’t do to have a runaway wagon so close to home. An unexplained worry itched between his shoulder blades. He flexed his shoulders but kept focused on the trail. An inch of snow over rocks could be treacherous.
Holding them to a slow walk down the slope ate up time. What seemed like an hour later, he steered the team around a rock outcropping that marked the last half-mile.
A scream split the quiet night.
Lady neighed and sidestepped.
“You’re all right, girl. Just a cougar on the prowl.” He spoke the words in a calm tone for the horses’ sake, but he wasn’t sure the sound was from a mountain cat. He didn’t understand this urgency to reach his family, but he’d felt it before and knew he had to honor the instinct. As soon as the ground leveled, he urged the team into a fast trot.
His first sight of the house brought a bit of relief. The structure looked fine. He scanned the barn and corral. Nothing out of the ordinary. A second look confirmed lights glowed both upstairs and down. Strange. Vika usually only lit the room she occupied. As he drew closer, he heard barking. Kids must be playing with Biscuit. That dog sure kept them entertained.
He steered the team alongside the back of the corral and tied off the reins. He rubbed weariness from his neck. When his fingers brushed against Vika’s gift, he smiled. The scarf came in handy during much of this trip. He climbed down and arched his back to work out the kinks before walking to Lady’s withers. Years of practice allowed him to feel his way through the unharnessing process then he set the horses loose in the corral.
The barking became shrill. Why wasn’t Vika dealing with the dog’s antics? Shouldering the harness, he trudged toward the barn, thankful for the ribbon of light shining through the gap in the double doors. Vika left a lantern burning for his return. Warmth settled in his chest. Her thoughtful act meant more than he would have admitted a week prior.
After carrying the harness and reins through the rear door to the tack room, he wiped down both with a cloth then hung them on wall pegs. As he moved to collect and tend the horses, he noticed a pinto in the forward stall. Chad strode to the enclosure and looked over the unfamiliar animal. Had he seen this horse in town? Who could be visiting with Vika at this hour? On Christmas Eve?
Questions ran th
rough his mind while he hurriedly rubbed a burlap bag over Lady’s and Princess’s coats. Currying would have to wait. He checked their water buckets were full and dug servings of grain from the oat barrel. Taking the lantern, he started for the house. Partway across the yard, he heard a man’s laughter and stilled. Tension invaded his body, and he rolled his shoulders to keep his muscles loose. He blew out the lantern then drew his revolver from the holster he always wore when traveling long distances.
Keeping his weight to the left edge to avoid squeaks, he climbed the back porch steps and leaned far enough to the side to look through the kitchen window…that wasn’t there. He stepped closer, and broken glass crunched under his boot. Chad held still until he determined his presence hadn’t been detected.
Inside, a man, the one who’d spoken to her in town a week or so ago, lounged in a chair at the dining table.
Vika stood ramrod straight near the doorway with her back to the counter. His children clung to her skirts, hiding behind her body.
A wave of protectiveness washed through him, followed quickly by guilt slamming his chest. How could he have left her vulnerable? Benat was probably in the far pasture and too far away to have noticed the stranger’s arrival. Think, Rutherford. He eased away from the window and stared at the barn. A detail about tonight floated in his mind. Church services. Vika talked him into including Benat and Neria in the outing.
Hating to leave them for even a second, he hopped off the porch and walked crouched until he was clear of the building then ran toward the square of light shining from the Pasquales’ caravan parked in the trees. He’d send Benat to town on Midnight, his fastest horse, to alert the sheriff then he’d have to keep this guy, this former friend, occupied until they returned.
As he ran back toward the house, he figured on a plan. The rope over his shoulder would be close at hand when he got the guy trapped. However that would happen. Going inside holding a drawn gun would only endanger his family. With a boot raised to launch onto the porch, he paused.
His family expanded to include Vika the moment he spotted her shielding Lance and Guinie from danger. He stepped to the wall next to the door and leaned his back against it, stripping off his gloves and dropping them. Pretending his arrival was an everyday occurrence was the only play here. He had to buy time to stash his kids out of the line of fire and get close enough to Vika to protect her if needed.
A Vow for Christmas Page 8
