Calico Christmas at Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  “I can come over in the afternoon to help, too. There isn’t anything happening at my place anyway,” Colter offered. “Besides, well, I’d just feel better keeping an eye on things.”

  Jake looked at the man. “You know something or is it just a hunch?”

  Colter shrugged. “A little of both. Danny said he thought he overheard some of the boys talking about doing something Monday.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “I’m saying it now,” Colter protested. “Besides, he wasn’t sure. He was slipping around to enter the saloon by the back door when he saw a couple of the older boys sitting there. They stopped talking while he walked by, but he thought he heard them say something about school or Sam Lee’s laundry. He wasn’t sure which.”

  “I can’t imagine what they’d want with Sam Lee. I don’t see those boys being overly concerned about clean clothes.”

  “Boys sometimes just talk big,” Higgins said. “Maybe those boys didn’t mean anything.”

  Colter nodded. “That’s one of the reasons I didn’t say anything earlier.”

  “And the other reason?” Jake asked.

  Colter looked him in the eye. “I wasn’t sure anyone would believe Danny anyway. Not after him stealing that watch.”

  “Does the boy make a habit of lying?” Jake asked.

  “I’ve never known him to. Boys are hard to know sometimes, though. I get the feeling he’s at one of those places in his life where he could go either way.”

  “Well, the boy’s had a hard life,” Higgins said.

  Colter nodded. “I’m the closest thing he has to a parent and I don’t really know what to do for him.”

  “You feed him, clothe him—you brought him to church,” Jake said. “That’s a good start.”

  “Well, I only got him to come to church because he knew Virginia was going to sing. He worships that woman. Says he’s going to marry her when he grows up.”

  “Oh,” Jake said in surprise and then he thought about it a minute. “Oh.”

  “I know.” Colter said wryly. “Any other competition I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Well, what’d the boy say he heard?” Higgins asked impatiently. “That’s the important thing.”

  “He just said they were talking about showing them Indian lovers a thing or two.” Colter looked chagrined. “Sorry. Those aren’t my words. Danny also said they were going to pound the mountain man. I wondered how they could describe Sam Lee that way, but now that I know Higgins is going to school, I figure they must mean him.”

  “Well, just let them try!” Higgins bellowed.

  “Keep your voice down,” Jake said with a look at the schoolhouse. “We don’t want to get the women all worried.”

  The men were silent for a bit. They were at the back of the schoolhouse so Jake listened for the sound of the front door opening. He didn’t hear anything.

  “I guess we might as well see how the women are doing anyway,” Jake said.

  “I doubt they could get that paint off with those brushes of theirs. I don’t think it can be done,” Colter said.

  Jake was of the same opinion, but he wasn’t about to say anything. He’d come to realize that women had their own way of solving problems and he wasn’t betting against them. Not anymore. Especially not when Elizabeth was involved.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake walked into the schoolhouse and stopped. If it wasn’t for some old cards his mother had kept in a box by her bed, he wouldn’t recognize what he saw. It was Christmas. Yellow stars were painted on the black line in the middle of the floor and red-berried holly twined around them both. The women had their backs to him and hadn’t heard him come inside. They were standing at the front of the room painting Merry Christmas on the Dry Creek side of the wall. There were even red-painted bells ringing over the words and more stars falling everywhere.

  “You’ve been busy,” Jake said as the other men crowded into the room behind him. He glanced over and saw his nieces were curled up together, sleeping on a blanket in a corner of the room.

  “Don’t walk on the line,” Elizabeth said as she turned around. “It’s not dry yet.”

  Jake grinned. His beautiful wife had a dab of yellow on her cheek and a streak of red on the back of her hand. And she looked happy. “We’ll be careful.”

  “I guess you decided not to scrub it all away,” Colter said as he carefully walked closer to the line and looked down at all of the painted stars and berries.

  Jake wondered if the other man recognized what he saw.

  “Christmas,” Jake said quietly and the other man nodded.

  “We came up with a different plan.” Virginia turned around and smiled at Colter. Well, actually, she beamed at the man. Jake was surprised Colter managed to sit down on one of the benches before his legs gave out. Jake was only getting the reflection of the look and it knocked him back a little, too.

  It was hard to tell if Virginia was beaming because of the man or because of her excitement over what she was doing. She held a paintbrush that had been dipped in yellow paint and she waved it around freely as she spoke.

  “It was really Elizabeth’s idea but everyone, even the reverend, thought it was wonderful,” Virginia continued, with such enthusiasm a man could only conclude it was the painting that was the cause of her exuberance at the moment.

  Jake saw Colter’s jaw tighten a little and he almost felt sorry for the man. It must be a disappointment to lose out to a holiday the man probably didn’t even celebrate.

  “All kids love Christmas,” Elizabeth explained as she carefully put her paintbrush down in an empty tin can. “So we decided to remind everyone that the season of goodwill is coming soon. There’ll be time enough to paint over the whole floor after Christmas. And the front wall, too.”

  The men were silent for a moment, letting everything sink in.

  “Well, the stars are real nice,” Jake said. “I’m partial to them myself.”

  He always had liked reading about how the star guided the wise men on their trip. He could relate to men like that. Not to the value of their gifts, of course, but he knew many men who traveled in search of something they weren’t sure they’d find.

  Men like Higgins, for instance. Jake noticed that the man had quietly made his way up to the wall where Annabelle was painting a sprig of holly.

  His partner, Wells, though, appeared to be looking for treasure of a different sort. He eyed the empty basket that Spotted Fawn had carried around this morning. “I don’t suppose you’ll be making any more of those doughnuts? To celebrate the goodwill and all.”

  “I plan to make another batch for the children,” Elizabeth said. “Most of them didn’t get any this morning. And we want to have lots of good things for Christmas.”

  “Could there be pies, too?” Wells asked. “My mother used to make the best pecan pies for Christmas.”

  Jake had never heard the man mention a longing for pie before. Or a mother, either.

  “Pies, too,” Elizabeth agreed. “I even have some pecans in a box just waiting to be used.”

  The years rolled away and Jake remembered his mother trying to make a pie once. He’d picked some berries for her; he’d long since forgotten what kind they were. But his mother had spent the morning making a crust and finally had slipped the pie into the oven. The heat had been too hot, or the plate too full, because the berries juiced up and spilled over and onto the bottom of the stove. It had taken the rest of the day to get the smoke out of the cabin and his mother had declared the pie too ruined to eat. She’d never tried to make another one.

  Jake brought himself back to the present. One thing he knew was that Elizabeth wouldn’t have given up after one try.

  “We talked to Reverend Olson,” Elizabeth was saying, her voice quietly excited. “And we’re going to work with the students to put on a Christmas pageant.”

  “For the whole town,” Virginia added as she spread her arms out and twirled around. “Isn’t
that wonderful? The children are going to be angels. And sing.”

  Jake exchanged a worried look with Colter and then asked. “All of the children?”

  “Of course,” said Virginia.

  “I’m not sure the older boys will—” Colter began until Virginia started to look disappointed. “I mean, they may need to have special costumes. The little children can wear a man’s shirt or something, but—”

  “We’ve got the costumes all planned out,” Virginia said as she brightened again. “Elizabeth said we can use the old union suits that are packed away in the things from her wagon. We can put something with them if we need to make them whiter. Or dye them if we want, although then I’m not sure she’ll be able to sell them afterward. Anyway, they’ll be big enough to fit the boys so they’re perfect. In fact, we’ll need to cut them down for the younger children.” Virginia stopped to take a breath.

  She looked right at Colter.

  “I’m sure they’ll be grateful for the ah—” Colter cleared his throat “—for the opportunity to perform.”

  “And it’s not like they’ll have wings or anything,” Jake added hopefully. Someone needed to say something and it was obvious Colter wasn’t able to get the words out. If there were no wings, the boys might be able to tell themselves they were trees or rocks or something.

  “Wings!” Virginia exclaimed. “Of course, we’ll need to make wings.”

  Jake had a sinking feeling. “What time are you planning to announce this to the kids?”

  “Tomorrow morning just after they finish working their sums. About ten o’clock.” Elizabeth walked over and stood beside Virginia. “We wanted to wait until they finished so the excitement wouldn’t distract them from it.”

  Jake nodded. He looked over at Colter and the other man dipped his head in answer. They’d both be outside the schoolhouse cutting wood about then. They knew those boys wouldn’t agree to wear wings without a fight. Fortunately, the women hadn’t mentioned halos yet. Jake knew he wasn’t going to even say a word about that.

  “I don’t suppose some of the boys could be innkeepers or something?” Jake asked. He guessed they’d rather sweep the floor than flap their wings with the girls, but he wasn’t too sure. “Or maybe shepherds? Shepherds would be okay.”

  It wouldn’t be the cowboys these boys dreamed of becoming, but at least being a shepherd was a man’s job and they would be proud to do it.

  “Well, we should have a Joseph, I suppose.” Elizabeth bit her lip in thought. “And a Mary and the Baby Jesus.”

  “Mary and Joseph could be adults.” Annabelle turned around finally to join the conversation. “It is supposed to be a pageant for the whole community. Adults should do their part.”

  Jake wondered what Mrs. Barker’s Civic Improvement League would think of the pageant. On this issue he might even agree with her. He sympathized with any boy that had to wear a halo or wings or pretend to be married to someone he probably didn’t like.

  But, even if they had Mrs. Barker behind them, these boys would have a hard time going against Christmas. Not because they cared whether they were holy or not. No, it would just eventually become clear that, if there was no Christmas, there’d be no doughnuts. He was sure rumors of those doughnuts had reached all the boys in town by now.

  Elizabeth felt tired and happy as she rode home in the wagon with Jake and the girls. She had the baby in her arms and Spotted Fawn was sitting on the seat between her and Jake. It made Elizabeth feel as though they were a real family, sitting together after all they’d been through that day.

  There was little more than a rut for the wagon wheels to follow as they drove home. After the overcast skies that morning, the afternoon sun had come out and dried the dirt so the wheels turned smoothly.

  “I’m glad it’s not raining still,” Elizabeth said. “It’s going to take most of the night for that paint to dry as it is. If it rained, I don’t know if the floor would be ready for school in the morning.”

  “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if school couldn’t meet for a day or two.” Jake pulled on the reins slightly to signal the horses to make a wide turn. They were almost to the last small rise before they dipped down and could see the first signs of home.

  “Oh, but the children have to go to school.”

  “I know, but a day or two wouldn’t matter much.”

  They were both silent for a bit.

  “Do you think we did the right thing?” Elizabeth finally asked. “Leaving the Miles City side of the room bare for the others to paint? We didn’t want to look like we were taking over everything. I mean—maybe they don’t want to wish anyone Merry Christmas.”

  “It wouldn’t be very neighborly not to say Merry Christmas.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She supposed so. It bothered her that, even though they had painted things over that line on the floor, the line was still there in her mind. It was now Miles City and Dry Creek; everyone made the distinction. Annabelle, Jake, Higgins, even Wells. When they had left for church this morning, they were one community and now, only eight hours later, they were two.

  Elizabeth wondered if that was progress or not. She supposed it was too early to judge that really. So far, Dry Creek didn’t have much to recommend it. There was no good road to where Jake had his cabin. No school. No hotel. Nothing but a flat stretch of gray dirt with a few ripples in the landscape and those cottonwood trees. In time, though, things could change. Maybe a little community would grow here someday and have some of the same kind of heart the Dry Creek side of things had shown this morning.

  But she doubted she would be around to see it. Even with all of the friendship she’d seen today, she didn’t feel easy in her heart about staying here. She didn’t know what she would do in the spring.

  “We’re home,” Jake said softly and Elizabeth noticed that Spotted Fawn had gone to sleep next to her uncle. The baby was sleeping, too.

  “It’s been a long day,” Elizabeth whispered back.

  Jake bedded the horses down for the night and fed the other animals before he started toward the cabin for supper. It was dusk. He stopped a moment to look around his land. The cottonwood trees sheltered him from the east. The ravine that dipped down to the creek was close enough that hauling water was no problem. The emptiness that stretched in all directions made some people uneasy, but it gave him peace.

  This was a good place to live. He would improve on it over the years, of course. Maybe he’d send a telegraph and order another load of lumber for when the Missouri river opened up again and the steamboats were able to make the trip up to Fort Benton. Whether or not Elizabeth stayed with them, the girls needed a better home. He might as well start on it this summer.

  In the meantime, he reminded himself to buy more coal oil for the lamp. One nice thing about having a family was he was using the lamp more often in the evening. He felt satisfaction just walking to the house and seeing the warm glow coming from the windows. One day soon, he’d see about getting some new books, too.

  The smell of fried onions greeted him when he stepped in the door. Two plates had been set on the table and Elizabeth was standing by the stove. She’d worn the dress she’d used for scrubbing the floor home, but had changed into one of her own dresses. It wasn’t any newer than her scrubbing one, but it was clean and dry.

  “Spotted Fawn already ate and went to bed,” Elizabeth said. “And I fed the baby, so she’s sleeping, too.”

  Jake glanced up to the loft and stepped closer to Elizabeth. He kept his voice low. “Did Spotted Fawn mention wanting to run away again?”

  Elizabeth shook her head and whispered. “I think the promise of celebrating Christmas will keep her here for a while. She could barely keep her eyes open while she ate and she was still asking questions about it.”

  “She likes the story of it all. She used to sit and listen to the old people of her tribe tell stories for hours,” Jake said before he turned to look at the stove. “That smells good.”

  “It’s just f
ried potatoes and onions. Annabelle mentioned it to me. It’s one of her son’s favorites. She gave me a couple of onions from her root cellar. I’ll have to plant some in my garden this year. She also gave me a recipe for elk stew and I gave her mine for stewed tomatoes.”

  Elizabeth took the frying pan off the stove and walked to the table. “I’m thinking I’ll have some use for the elk one.”

  “I should go hunting soon.” Jake turned toward the table, too. He had been pleased to see how much Elizabeth enjoyed the company of Annabelle and Virginia. His mother had always complained of her solitude. Maybe the territory had grown up enough in the years since then that a woman could find some social life even if it was only exchanging recipes and painting stars on the schoolhouse floor.

  Elizabeth spooned the potatoes and onions onto their plates.

  “I never knew you could do so many things,” Jake said as he sat down. “Virginia said you even know how to make soap. And your own dyes. I didn’t know ladies back East knew how to do any of those things.”

  Elizabeth set the spoon back in the pan. She supposed, at heart, all men were the same. “Not every woman can be a lady, you know. Not when it takes so much work to run a household.”

  Jake gave her a look of surprise.

  Now, she’d done it, Elizabeth thought. “I’m sorry to be snappish. I just—I just—well, I guess I’m tired.”

  They were both seated at the table by now, but neither made any move to say a prayer so they could eat. Jake was looking at her as if he was expecting her to say more.

  “Of course, you are,” Jake finally said. “And this afternoon probably brought back lots of memories.”

  Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to look at him. What did he mean?

  “Of Christmas,” he explained. “My mother always was a little sad when she looked through her Christmas things. Too many memories, I suppose, along with the trinkets and cards she’d kept from her childhood.”

  “I’m fine with Christmas,” Elizabeth said and bowed her head. It was true; she always had been fine with Christmas as long as she didn’t let herself dream about it being special.