by Danni Roan
He noticed the long braid she wore down her back, the way the loose fabric of her night gown whispered with each step, hinting at the warm curves beneath it, then he watched her glide back to her room, silently closing the door.
A loud crash woke the whole house at once in the early dawn. Maggie grabbing her house coat and slinging it around her as she stepped out of her room, dashed in to the living room to find both men standing over the wreckage of their Christmas tree. Then Mr. Danvers standing there in nothing but his trousers, the warm glow of the embers in the fire place reflected off of his broad chest, began to laugh.
Chaz looked at Maggie and Maggie looked at Chaz, but the man was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak, finally turning he pointed to the two innocent looking faces staring down on them from the top of the cupboard.
Moxi and Mawl had apparently been climbing the tree when it crashed over, but now stared down at the carnage with wide innocent eyes. Chaz began laughing as well and even Maggie had to relent from glaring at the two miscreants and chuckle.
“I should have expected as much.” She finally said. “Well since we’re already up anyway, we might as well open our gifts.” And with that she righted the tree and began pulling packages out and handing them around. The first one a large thick package she handed to Chaz, he knew it was the quilt she’d been making but was delighted with it just the same.
“I ain’t never had my own real quilt before.” He said humbly.
She then passed him the shirts and scarf and finally passed the last package to Mr. Danvers. For a moment he looked at the brown wrapped item in her hand, a little surprised that she would have anything for him. After all he’d only been with them a few weeks, and had hardly been any use to them at all.
“Go on, open it!” Chaz said excitedly as he wrapped his bright red scarf around his neck several times. Jason took the package from Maggie’s hand.
“Why thank you,” he said still holding her eyes. She smiled at him and made a shooing motion to indicate he should unwrap it.
Carefully he unwrapped the blue scarf and lifted it from its packaging. It wasn’t as long as Chaz’s, but was finely made with neat rows of stitching worked into a crosswise pattern. “It’s beautiful.” He said lifting his eyes once more to Maggie’s. “Thank you.”
Maggie blushed prettily at his thanks. “You need something to keep you warm in this weather. After all when we found you, you were nearly frozen to death.” Even her eyes smiled as she said it and for a long moment he just stood there staring at her like a fool.
“I got something for you to Miss Maggie!” Chaz said, breaking the spell and handed her a small, square box, neatly” wrapped in bright paper. “I got it at the mercantile when we was last in Sawbrush. Go on open it up.”
Carefully Maggie unwrapped the hands width package then lifted the lid off of the box which was heavily packed with wool batting. Moving that aside she gazed down at the delicate porcelain tea cup nestled inside. “Oh my!” She gasped. “It’s beautiful.” She turned bright eyes to Chaz.
“I knowed you’d like it as soon as I saw it. I had a devil of a time getting it back here in one piece without you knowing it though.” Maggie reached out and hugged the boy, who hung his head embarrassed.
“Well I’d better go get the milking done.” He then said abruptly. “That ol’ nanny goat don’t know it’s Christmas and won’t care even if she did.” He made a flourish with his scarf then reached for his coat and hat, sliding out the door into the graying light of morning.
“I think I’d better go help out.” Jason said his throat suddenly dry and grabbing his coat he too dodged out the door. Soon Maggie could hear the sound of an axe striking wood behind the cabin and hoped the man wouldn’t open up that wound again. She gently removed the hand painted tea cup and carefully placed it on a shelf. She knew it must have cost Chaz his very last two dollars and it was one of the most precious gifts she had ever been given.
Over the next few weeks snow continued to fall in the valley, and the trio fell into an easy routine. Mr. Danvers seemed determined to stock them up with enough wood to last for years to come and as soon as the little Christmas tree started dropping needles everywhere took it out to the wood pile too.
In the evening he worked on braiding raw hide from the deer pelts into wide strips and then began stretching them across the base of the old chair, bit by bit creating a sturdy seat. He then lashed bits of bent pine branches into intricate patterns to replace the back. When Maggie saw what he was doing she realized that she needed some form of cushioning to make the large box like chair more comfortable.
Digging through her remaining fabrics she quickly realized that there wasn’t enough to make matching cushions so instead she pulled out a flour sack and thought of what she could use as padding. They had some feathers from the chickens they had killed but not nearly enough for this. She finally decided that the only thing they had enough of was straw so for now it would have to do.
Once Mr. Danvers indicated that the chair was indeed finished Maggie placed the fat cushions, one on the bottom and one standing upright at the back on the seat and tried it. She wiggled her bottom around a bit in the oversized chair to determine if the ticking would come out but very little of it seemed to be poking her.
“I think it will smooth down with a little use, just like a bed.” She added standing up. “Now you try it.” She said. The tall lawman smiled but instead of sitting down he put his hat and coat on and stepped out into the crisp night air, only to return a short time later with a smaller version of the chair grasped tightly in his weathered hands.
“I think this one might be more your size.” He said, eyes twinkling. Maggie stood speechless for several seconds, then looked at Chaz. It was obvious that he had known about this but had said nothing. “You knew?” She asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He replied. “But Jason said he wanted it to be a surprise.”
She turned back to the man standing there next to his handy work. “Well I didn’t have a gift for you at Christmas, and I saw this chair and just figured if I fixed it up, I could learn to make a new one at the same time. I used a good bit of that Christmas tree doing it too. I hope you like it.”
“Like it? I love it.” She stated still looking at the smaller chair. It was made in the same pattern as the first chair but where that chair was big and boxy with large pieces of limb and branch, this one was more delicate somehow. Four larger branches or possibly a thick sapling had been used to make the four legs that sat like fence posts on either side of the chair seat and were held together by two vertical beams that had been whittled down and fitted into the legs in a mortis and tenon fashion. Between these, intricately curled strip of pine had been woven together to make a soft looping pattern. The back of the chair had one thick base limb connecting the two sets of legs together but from it rose a tall back, fitted tightly into the legs as well and all of the back was made of quilt like boxes with swirling pine pressed in between. The bark had all been stripped away from each piece of wood and the bare wood shown bright and white in the fire light.
“It will cure a bit more but I think I used dry enough wood that it shouldn’t shrink.” The marshal said still looking at Maggie’s face. “I’m afraid you’ll need more cushions though. I never thought of that.”
Maggie looked at the beautiful chair then up into the face of the lawman. “I don’t know what to say.” She whispered. “It’s so lovely.” Then not even thinking about it she stepped up and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Chapter 11
Days turned to weeks as winter drew on. Some days wind and blowing snow obscured the entire valley forcing the three occupants to stay in or close to the cabin. Maggie turned to baking more special desserts to break up the monotony of those days. On other days the sun would shine so bright and the sky be such a brilliant blue it felt like you could reach up and cut a patch out as you would fabric. Often on these days they would ride out. Chaz and Jason w
ould hunt, or even do some ice fishing, or as was often the case, Maggie would escort Mr. Danvers to the high pass that led to the trail to Sawbrush.
But each time they returned to the cabin, patiently waiting for a break in the winter weather. It was on one of these occasions that Jason decided to ask Maggie how she could just talk to God as if he were anyone else.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe He made this earth and set us on it.” He stated, “I’m just saying that all my life I’ve done for myself and I don’t see why I should either expect Him to do for me when I got two hands and a strong back, or why I should give Him credit for the work I’ve done on my own.”
He paused for a moment collecting his thoughts as the big gray horse plowed its way through the snow next to the little dun pony. “I’ve pretty much been on my own since I was seventeen. I punched cows, rode shotgun on a stage, and ended up a lawman after the fella before me got himself gunned down. I earned my pay, fixed my grub, and saddled my own broncs. Doesn’t seem to me God had much to do with that.”
Maggie rode along quietly next to him, looking around to the valley, its edges muted and softened by the layers of snow. In the distance she could see mule deer digging through the cover to find fodder, their soft reddish coats a sharp contrast to the bright white surfaces around them.
“Do you remember your father Mr. Danvers?” She finally asked, her voice quiet but clear in the soft stillness of a winter’s day.
“Yes, ma’am. Not well but I remember him.”
“Did your father expect you to work and do chores to help provide for the family?”
“Yes, he made sure all of us boys knew how to do a day’s work and even when times were tough we always had enough food on the table.”
“Did your father expect you to create the dirt you grew your crops in?”
“What? Now how could he have done that?”
“Did he expect you to bring the rain, or the sun? I know they are strange questions.” She added with a smile.
“Your father expected you to do what men do. Work, provide for a family, and choose right. But he’s the one who provided the farm for you and taught you what was right. God is like a father. He provides for us. He gives us a world to live in and if we listen teaches us right from wrong. He watches over what we do but He will let us make our own choices because just like children we have to grow. When I speak to God, I’m speaking to my heavenly father. He looks on me as any father would look on his child and he wants what’s best for me, so if I ask him for something why shouldn’t I believe he’ll provide it? As a boy if you asked your father for something important, and he could give it to you and knew it would be a good thing wouldn’t he give it to you?”
“Yes, ma’am, if he could.”
“Well God is the same way. He expects us to work, to do what’s right but he’s also right there when we truly need something. We can talk to him just the way we would talk to our father.”
They rode in silence for a while, listening to the birds in the trees, watching various animals scurrying around foraging for their winter fare and for some reason Jason Danvers was seeing the view in a whole new light.
“You’ve given me some things to ponder.” He said then rode back to the cabin without another word.
Although winter surrounded them, there was a pleasantness to Maggie’s valley. Days were crisp and cold but as often bright as they were blustery. The inhabitants of the little cabin kept themselves occupied with a variety of different activities and repairs in preparation for the coming spring.
They had mended farm equipment, harnesses and other tack, furniture and even made another neat little cot, just ever so slightly longer than the first one so that Chaz could have his bed back.
It was only February when the first break came in the weather. They didn’t know how long it would last but for two days the temperatures climbed enough to let the icicles fall from the eves, and patches of brown grass to show through where the snow was thinnest. Everyone knew what it would mean if the chinook held.
Each evening Maggie found herself studying the face of Jason Danvers, just waiting to hear when he would leave. How had she allowed herself to start having feelings for this man? A lawman, someone whose job was not just dangerous but who understood true violence. He had never broached the subject of God again and in her heart Maggie knew that although he believed there must be a God he couldn’t see how it was possible to truly know Him.
When the weather broke Jason knew his duty lay down the mountain in the little town of Sawbrush. He'd been sent to stop a range war from happening and if it hadn't broken out into whole sale killing yet he knew it was just a matter of time.
After two days of warmer temperatures, he brought the subject up at dinner. "Ms. Maggie", he said softly "I'm going to head down to Sawbrush tomorrow. I still have a job to do."
For a long moment they sat across the table just looking into each other’s eyes, then the auburn haired woman nodded her head, just once before replying. "We'll be ready in the morning."
"Now wait just a minute, ma'am.” Jason protested. “I don't really think you and Chaz should go on down there too. We have no idea what that town is like now and with people being shut in with winter and all this warm spell might just be the spark that sets the whole thing off."
Calmly Maggie, smiled. "I understand your concern Mr. Danvers, but Chaz and I need to go to town anyway to replenish supplies, we seem to have gone through more of them than we had accounted for in the fall." she said with a twinkle in her eye and a stubborn set to her chin.
Jason Danvers actually blushed for the first time since he had been a young teen. He tried to force the smile that was twitching at the corners of his mouth away but he couldn't quite do it.
"Well I guess you have me there." He said "I'm sure you've gone through a whole man's worth of supplies about right now." His grin was short lived though as he thought of what might await them on the prairie below. "You just be mighty careful when you're in that town." He said softly, his eyes darkening with concern, and suddenly he realized that for the first time in his life he was completely terrified of losing some one he cared for.
Where did that thought even come from, but it was not use denying it, he had come to not only admire and respect Maggie Weston, but in his heart he knew he cared deeply for her. A feeling of sudden agitation came over him and he swept his hands through his dark hair before turning, grabbing his hat and stepping out into the chill night.
For just a moment Maggie hung her head in despair, then she silently raised a prayer for the lawman, heaved a sigh and called for Chaz.
The first rays of the sun had not even touched the horizon yet, when the trio left the cabin along with the mule and headed out to the pass that led to the ancient trail down toward the flat lands. The horses stepped out confidently, knowing their surroundings and feeling fresh after little use.
The marshal's light gray mount pranced about, in anticipation of traveling, or perhaps just picking up some of his rider’s worry for the trip ahead. Joshua, move forward steadily through the valley straight toward the cliff face that allowed the residence access to the wider world, understanding where they were heading and ready to get the work done.
The pass was in deep darkness as they dismounted and worked their way through, each leading their mounts carefully over the rocky path.
As they made the last turn through the tunnel like trail, the sun reached the hills below, turning the sky a pale pink. Maggie gasped as she stepped out and looked at the beauty laid before her. The light continued to brighten over the black horizon, slowly lifting the gray dusk into true dawn. Gold, orange and rose mingled to dash, like a painter’s, unerring stroke across the sky. For a long moment they all just stood there admiring the birth of a new day. Then they mounted up and again pushed toward Sawbrush.
Chapter 12
Jason turned his mount down the main street of Sawbrush, with Maggie beside him and Chaz bringing up the rear with
the mule in tow. Early evening was just settling on the little town like a shroud as they moved slowly along the half frozen muck of the avenue. Few lights shown through windows even at this early hour and an unnatural hush seemed to hover over the tow. As they rode on, the night darkening around them, they could hear raucous music, and loud laughter coming from the saloon.
Quietly they rode on up to the livery stable on the far side of town in to utter stillness. Jason dismounted and turned toward the barn. The big double doors were closed against the cold of the oncoming night so he lifted a hand to the latch in preparation for opening it.
“Whose thare?” A harsh voice called down from the loft, “I got a bead on you ‘uns, so you best step lively.”
“It’s me Charlie, Maggie Weston.” Maggie called “I’m here with friends.”
“Miss Maggie?” The old man’s voice cracked with delight. “Well I’ll be, din’t spect to see you none till the snow was gone. You just come on in now. I’ll be right down.” And true to his word he turned pulling the shutter closed behind him.
Jason, pushed the barn door open just enough to allow the horses room to pass, and blinked as the old man appeared with a lantern blazing in his hand. Jason raised a hand to his eyes at the unaccustomed light, but still noticed the glint of a shotgun barrel in the hands of the other man. For one moment his hand moved toward his gun belt, prepared to take action if needed, but Maggie’s soft voice made him stop.
“Charlie, whatever are you doing, walking around with that shotgun? You nearly frightened me to death.” She softened her words with a smile, but worry touched her eyes. Following her lead Jason relaxed and watched the old man prop the battered shot gun against a barn beam.
“Let’s get you all settled here before we go worryin’ about that nonsense.” The hostler replied reaching out to take the reins from her, and leading the dun pony to a clean stall. “You get that hoss of yours settle Chaz and mister, you can either take that stall there or just wait a minit, till I help Miss Maggie. Who in the blazes are you anyway?” He asked starting to move Joshua toward a stall.
