Cascades Christmas

by Mildred Colvin

  “You’re welcome, Mama.” Anna tossed the words over her shoulder as she carried her load to the kitchen. Last week she’d done everything alone. Maybe with Kathleen’s help the work would go quickly, and she could get to the lake before Tuck gave up on her. Anna had the dishwater prepared in the sink before Kathleen pushed through the door with a dish of food in each hand.

  Kathleen put the pie in the safe and the bowl of potatoes on the counter. “We’ll eat this tonight, so I’m leaving it here. Maybe make potato patties. What are you doing this afternoon?” Her question was tossed out too casually.

  Anna looked up at her sister, who didn’t even glance her way. “I thought I’d go see Larkin for a while.”

  That wasn’t a lie. She did plan to go by Larkin’s to see if she wanted to go fishing, too. Maybe Tuck would invite one of his friends the next time. Then Larkin would have her own fellow. Heat rose in her face at the direction her thoughts were taking. Tuck was not courting her. She needed to remember that.

  Kathleen continued putting away food while Anna washed dishes. After a while, Kathleen picked up a dish towel. “I’ll dry the dishes. You go see Larkin.”

  “Thank you.” Anna didn’t waste time untying her apron. She hung it on a hook by the back door, grabbed a coat hanging there, and slipped outside into a damp cloudy day. Why couldn’t the sun be shining like last week? Anna shrugged. At least it wasn’t pouring down rain. She spoke back into the kitchen. “If Papa or Mama ask, you can tell them where I am.”

  “Sure.”

  Anna ran across the backyard to the garden shed. She changed into her boots and grabbed her pole. If only she could stash her skirt here. No, she had to wear it in town. Someone would see for sure and tell Mama.

  As she turned to leave, the door opened and Kathleen stepped in. “I didn’t think you were going to Larkin’s.”

  “I am, too.” Anna flushed under her sister’s steady gaze.

  Kathleen shook her head, her smile knowing. “No, you’re going fishing. You’re running off to meet Jeremiah Tucker, aren’t you? I heard you make plans with him the other day, so don’t deny it.”

  “With Larkin. What’s wrong with that? Papa doesn’t mind if I go fishing with friends.”

  Kathleen’s eyebrows lifted. “Mama does.”

  Anna wanted to stomp her foot, but Kathleen would love that show of frustration. “You’re going to tell, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Kathleen folded her arms. “I don’t care. Go meet your beau if you want.” She laughed. “How long do you think he’ll stay interested if you keep acting like a hooligan? You’re almost eighteen. Don’t you think it’s time you grew up and became a lady? I know Mama and Papa are getting tired of your tomboy ways.”

  “Not Papa.” Anna’s protest sounded weak even to her. Hadn’t he said she shouldn’t work in the woods?

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Kathleen shrugged. “I heard them talking about a school back East. A finishing school. Mama says it’s the only way now to turn you into a lady.”

  An angry flush rose in Anna’s face. “Papa won’t let her send me away.”

  Kathleen’s laughter rang out in the shed. “Papa agreed with her. I’m sorry, Anna, but everyone’s getting tired of your behavior. It’s past time for you to grow up. I think it’ll be good for you. Look at this as an opportunity, not a punishment. I wish I could go.”

  Kathleen left, and a tremble worked its way through Anna’s body. She leaned against a table. Kathleen had to be wrong. Papa wouldn’t do this to her. Emotions raced through her until her mind whirled without direction. She shoved her pole back into place with the others and pushed out of the building, slamming the door behind her.

  She ran toward Larkin’s through wisps of fog that hung in the air and added to her dismal emotions. She had to tell someone who would understand. At the Whitworth house, Larkin let her in. “Anna, what’s wrong?”

  “Mama and Papa are sending me away.” Anna knew she didn’t make sense, but Larkin led her upstairs to her room. There, with tears pouring down her cheeks, Anna told what she’d just learned.

  “Oh Anna, how terrible.” Larkin’s tears of sympathy blended with Anna’s.

  Anna dried her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened her spine. “I’ll show Papa and Mama I can be a lady. I’ll act like Kathleen. They’d never send her away.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you the way you are,” Larkin sympathized. “You aren’t like Kathleen. They shouldn’t expect you to be.”

  “But they do.” Anna forced a smile for her friend. “It’s all right. I can do it. I have to because I would simply wilt away without my forest.”

  Jeremiah set a rhythm Monday morning with another bucker on the two-man saw. The scent of cedar filled the air and sawdust flew over him while they sliced a six-foot-diameter log into shingle bolts. He hadn’t seen Anna at breakfast. Where’d she been yesterday? He’d caught enough fish for Frederick to fry for him, Willum, and E.V. for supper, but they didn’t make up for Little Bit’s company he’d missed earlier. Something must have happened.

  When the noon whistle blew, he strode toward camp and the mess hall, eager to talk to Anna. His eyes adjusted to the dim light inside as he moved through the serving line. “Hello, Mrs. Wilkin. Mmm, boiled potatoes and gravy. Looks good.”

  She smiled. “I imagine anything would look good after working all morning the way you boys do.”

  “That may be true.” He grinned, but let his gaze roam down the table. Kathleen handed out bread and dished up heaping ladles of green beans near the far end. Where was Anna? He moved down the line.

  Kathleen glanced up with a smile. “How are you today?”

  “I’m fine.” He held his plate under her ladle. “I haven’t seen your sister lately.”

  “She’s working in the kitchen today.” Kathleen set the ladle in the pot.

  “She wouldn’t be avoiding me for some reason, would she?” Why had he asked that? He sure didn’t need Anna’s sister thinking he cared.

  “Not that I know of.” Kathleen slanted him a glance. “Why would she do such a thing unless you’ve done something you shouldn’t? Like enticing her to go off alone with you for the last two Sunday afternoons.”

  Heat crept up his neck. Had Kathleen twisted a few hours of fishing into a romantic interlude?

  Before he could defend Anna, Kathleen handed him a couple of slices of bread and smiled. “If you want to see Anna, why don’t you come by our cabin tonight? You know where our family stays here at camp, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  She glanced down the line and back at him with a bright smile. “Please do come to the cabin tonight, Jeremiah,” she said in a strong voice. “We’d love to have you visit.”

  Someone cleared his throat. Jeremiah turned to see Garrick waiting behind him with a frown on his face. “Oh, sorry.” He gave Kathleen a nod. “I’ll stop by later tonight.”

  Kathleen’s invitation didn’t sound sincere. Maybe she’d only asked to get him to move on so she could serve Garrick and the rest of the men. Jeremiah let her words play through his mind until late afternoon, but he couldn’t find the answer. Whatever her reasoning, he appreciated the chance to see Little Bit.

  Long strides took Jeremiah through the cold November air to the log cabin set back several yards from the mess hall. Anna hadn’t served supper either. She must be avoiding someone. If not him, who?

  Kathleen opened the door at his knock. “Oh, Jeremiah.”

  “You said for me to come by tonight. To see Anna.” He shifted his weight. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. He looked past her. “Is she home?”

  “No, she’s out somewhere with Papa.” Kathleen stepped back. “Please, come in. They should be back soon, and Mama’s here.”

  Jeremiah accepted a cup of coffee and slice of cake from Mrs. Wilkin. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She and Kathleen sat across from him sipping coffee. Mrs. Wilkin lowered her cup and gazed at him. “How do you
like working in the woods, Mr. Tucker?”

  He allowed a smile. “I imagine it could be worse.”

  “I’d guess logging isn’t your calling?” Her smile answered his. “What would you rather do?”

  That was an easy question. “Farming.”

  Mrs. Wilkin’s eyebrows lifted. “Doesn’t a farm require land, animals, equipment?”

  “Yes ma’am. I hope to have all that within a year’s time.” Truthfully, he had most everything except a house to live in. After the fire that took Rebekah and his folks, he sold the farm and all of Pa’s animals except his best team. When the next-door neighbor offered to board them and store Pa’s plow, wagon, and other tools, Jeremiah accepted.

  “I see.” Mrs. Wilkin stood. “I’ll take your plate if you’re finished. Would you like more coffee?”

  “No ma’am. Thank you.” Jeremiah stood until she left the room. He turned to Kathleen. “I should be going.”

  Kathleen walked him to the door. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Anna. She’s probably wandering around in the woods like always. She’s angry right now because Mama and Papa are sending her to school next spring or early summer. By then she’ll have had plenty of time to get over it and see this is best for her.”

  Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, sending her to school?”

  “Back East. Chicago, I think. Where Mama went. She should be glad to go. I would be, but Anna is such a tomboy, she’s the one who needs polishing.”

  “Finishing school?” Jeremiah frowned. Little Bit didn’t belong in finishing school any more than he did. She’d smother there. No wonder she’d been avoiding him.

  “Yes.” Kathleen smiled. “She has to grow up someday.”

  Jeremiah’s mind whirled with images of the two sisters after he left. Beautiful, graceful Kathleen and fun-loving, cute Anna. So different. Why’d Kathleen invite him tonight? For Anna or for herself? Why wasn’t Kathleen married? She’d make a wife any man would be proud of.

  Chapter 5

  A leaf, dried on the tree and only now letting go, drifted toward the ground in front of Anna. She bent, picked it up, and twirled it between her fingers. The days were slipping past and she still had no solution to her problem. How long had she walked? An hour? Two? She’d been so upset when she left the kitchen, she hadn’t even changed into her trousers. A short laugh escaped her lips. Mama would be proud of her.

  She lifted her gaze toward heaven and the top of the stately old pine beside her. Lord, where is the answer? Must I go to school? Is that Your will for me?

  So many questions, but no answers. She couldn’t leave her woods. She just couldn’t. And what about Tuck? Their friendship was new but precious. A tear escaped, and she brushed at it. Why would Papa do this to her? Her insides churned when she thought about confronting him. Maybe Kathleen was wrong, and they wouldn’t send her away. It was just talk at this point anyway, wasn’t it? She should ask Papa tonight after supper and find out the truth. Or maybe even now. He’d gone to the shed to sharpen axes. She could help him before she had to help with the evening meal.

  Again, her stomach rolled. She couldn’t talk to Papa if she got sick just thinking about it. She shuffled her toe through old, soggy leaves and soft pine needles on the forest floor then turned toward camp. Maybe if she offered to help, he’d tell her Kathleen made up the story about school just to be mean, or maybe she’d mention it to Papa first, and he’d tell her she could decide if she wanted to go. That sounded more like Papa.

  Anna set off with long strides toward camp. How hard could it be to tell Papa she didn’t want to go away? He always understood.

  At the tool shed, she stopped and took a deep breath before opening the door and slipping inside. Papa sat on a stool with an ax across his knee. He ran a long file along the edge of the blade then stopped and looked up at her. “Anna. Did you come to help?”

  She nodded. “Yes. What can I do?”

  He grinned. “Take your pick.”

  Anna straightened the tools on Papa’s worktable. The steady rasp of his file on the blades scraped her nerves in a way it never had before. How could he sit there acting as if nothing was wrong? How could he send her away?

  “Papa?” She turned to meet his questioning gaze. “Does it bother you for me to wear pants when we’re in the woods?”

  A soft smile lightened his expression. “I wouldn’t let you if it did.”

  “Oh.” She looked down. “Mama doesn’t like it, and Kathleen’s always the perfect lady.”

  He chuckled. “Your mama doesn’t know, does she?”

  She grinned. “She knows, but not how often I wear them. I don’t think Kathleen knows either.”

  “Kathleen’s a good girl.” Papa smiled and turned back to his work. “Just like her mother. She’ll make a fine wife someday.”

  Air huffed from Anna. “Like I said, always perfect.”

  Papa shook his head. “Not perfect, but she knows what’s important.” He looked up. “Don’t worry, little one. You’ll learn, and one day you’ll be ready for marriage, too.”

  Anna wrinkled her nose and turned back to stack wedges, alternating them so they were even. She sighed. Papa wanted her to learn—to get ready for marriage. He’d confirmed what Kathleen said. Papa wanted her to go to finishing school. Maybe if she started acting like a lady all the time, they’d let her stay home. She could do that. Surely she could. Only she wouldn’t give up wearing her trousers when she went into the woods alone. Or with Papa. Or Tuck.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Papa, I’d better go. Mama will want me in the kitchen before long.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. Thanks for your help.” He didn’t even look up.

  Outside, Anna saw no one. Today, Kathleen helped Mama prepare the food. Tomorrow would be Anna’s turn. She had at least an hour before she was needed to serve. Her heart weighed a ton. How could Papa be so unfeeling? To send her away was cruel. A cool November breeze brushed past as her feet carried her toward her beloved woods and the tall pines that gave her solace. Their scent was like balm to her soul. Tears blurred her eyes because of the unfairness of her situation. She loved her parents, yet they found her lacking. Under cover of her trees, she ran while the forest passed in a blur of movement and tears. Finally, she collapsed at the foot of a fir tree in a soft bed of damp moss, her body shaking with sobs.

  Jeremiah headed back to camp early. He’d cracked his ax handle, and the foreman told him to go see if Mr. Wilkin had another.

  A flash of red to the side caught his eye. Anna’s long, dark braid flew out and bounced against her red plaid jacket. Her dad’s, no doubt. He chuckled. Only Anna would wear a man’s jacket with boots and a skirt. His smile faded when she fell to the ground and curled into a tight ball with her face against her knees. Had she hurt herself?

  Jeremiah’s strides lengthened as he altered his course toward Anna. He leaned the ax on the opposite side of the tree and knelt in front of her. She sniffed and sobs shook her shoulders.

  “Anna?” He murmured her name, not wanting to startle her. “Little Bit, what’s wrong?”

  Her head lifted. Tears trailed down her cheeks. He brushed a damp tendril from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Tell me what it is.”

  She swiped her sleeve across her eyes. A hiccup brought a curve to his lips. No other girl could be so adorable in the midst of a crying spell.

  “Is this about you going away to school?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Kathleen told me.”

  “Oh.” She turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “She would. She wants me to go. So do Mama and Papa.”

  “But do you want to go?” He touched her chin and brought her back toward him. “You’re the one who needs to decide, right?”

  She shook her head and blinked as her eyes filled. Two big tears ran down her cheeks.

  He caught them with his thumbs and brushed them away.

  “Oh Tuck.” Her
voice caught. “I don’t want to. I have to. I just talked to Papa. He wants me to go.”

  If he could, he’d wipe the worry from her face. She should always smile and be happy. Her hurt brought heaviness to his heart. “I thought Kathleen said you’d leave in late spring or early summer. That’s months away. Your parents could change their minds by then. I wouldn’t worry about it now.”

  Anna’s eyes brightened for a moment. Then, as a cloud covered her countenance, she shook her head, and another tear eased from her eye. “No, Mama will never change her mind. Papa said I should learn to be a good wife. He wants me to be like Kathleen. He wants me to go away.”

  Another tear fell and yet another. Jeremiah’s heart broke. Without thought of the consequences, he reached for her, and she fell into his arms. He patted her back. “Hey Little Bit, don’t cry. It’s cold out here. You’ll freeze your face.”

  Her only answer was a sniffle. A tremble moved through her body. His arms tightened, and he tucked her head more securely under his chin. He’d do the same if she were truly his sister. Only his heart had never acted up like this when he consoled his sister. Emotions, having nothing to do with brotherly love, surged through his awareness.

  His muscles tensed, and she looked up. Tears glistened in her lashes. Her full lips pulled down into a pout. His heart pounded as if he’d run a mile. He stared into her wide, chocolate eyes until they blurred, and his nose touched hers.

  He jerked back and fell to the ground as if he’d been hit. What just happened? He’d almost kissed the pout from her lips. He’d wanted to kiss Little Bit. His nose still tingled from the brief contact. What on earth had he been thinking?

  Chapter 6

  He was crazy. That’s all there was to it. Taking advantage of Anna’s innocence that way. He felt sorry for her. Nothing else. No reason to start kissing her.

  He scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry, Little Bit. I need to get this ax to your father. The handle broke.”