She noticed Will glance up at the plate of cookies, but they were too far away.
Nan got up and placed them on the floor next to him.
She hated to think of depriving grandparents of their grandchild, but it was even more terrible to think of separating a father from his daughter. There must be some way to keep them together. Right then Nan made up her mind to keep them at Spruce Meadow until she found a way.
Three
“You have to bundle up real good,” Nan told Clara. “It’s very cold outside.” Breakfast had been eaten and everything washed up. They were going to look for a Christmas tree.
“It’s cold at home, too,” Clara said. She was so excited that Nan had to help her into her coat.
“But not as cold as here,” Jake said. “You’ll have icicles on your nose by the time we get back.”
Clara giggled. “Will I?” she asked Nan.
“Not if you bundle up.” Nan pulled a gaily decorated woolen cap over Clara’s head. “Keep your gloves on.”
“Why are you always trying to do things without me?”
The three turned to find Will Atkins standing in the doorway to his room. He was dressed in a suit with an overcoat and hat. Only his boots seemed sturdy enough to endure the hunt for a Christmas tree.
Clara giggled. “Daddy’s not bundled up. He’ll have icicles on his nose.”
“This is all I have,” Will said.
“You can’t possibly go,” Nan protested. “You’re not strong enough to make it up the hills.”
“I was hoping for a place in your wagon.”
Nan looked undecided, but Clara took her father by the hand. “You can sit next to me.”
“Okay,” Nan said, giving in, “but you’ve got to let Jake lend you some clothes, and you’ve got to stay in the wagon. I won’t have Jake trying to drag you out of the woods.”
“You don’t have a very good impression of me, do you?”
Nan didn’t dare let him guess the impression she did have. She had lain awake half the night trying to think of ways to help him keep his daughter. But instead of thinking about his job and housekeepers to stay with Clara, she found herself wondering what he liked to eat, what made him laugh, what he liked to do for fun, where he had taken his wife when they were spooning.
“You’ve been very sick. You won’t do Clara any good if you get sick again.”
“Is that all you care about?”
His look made Nan uneasy. He was looking too deep, demanding an answer she didn’t want to give. “What else should I care about?”
“Me.”
Nan felt herself grow warm. Words stuck in her throat. Her thoughts came in hesitant fragments.
She felt foolish and utterly helpless to do anything about it. She was attracted to this man, more than to any other she had ever known, but that was no reason to be rendered brainless.
“I care about you, Daddy,” Clara said.
“I’m concerned about your father, too,” Nan managed to say. “But what kind of nurse would I be if I let him get sick again?”
“Let’s go,” Clara said, tired of standing around talking. “I want a big Christmas tree that goes all the way to the ceiling.”
“We’ll see,” Nan said, using the diversion of bundling Clara up and putting on her own clothes to ease the tension with Will. “Jake has picked out one he’s sure you’ll like.”
“Where is it?” Clara asked.
“You’ll see,” Nan said, scooting the child outside and into the wagon.
Soon they were on their way, Jake driving the team, Will and Nan seated on either side of Clara.
* * *
“We got the biggest tree in the woods,” Clara announced as she bounded up the steps and raced through the door Gertie held open. “It’ll fill the whole room.”
“Not quite that large,” Nan said, “but it’s the biggest Christmas tree we’ve ever had.”
Will and Jake struggled up the steps and through the door with a holly tree heavy with berries.
“Take it into the gathering room,” Nan said. “In front of the big window.”
A fire popped noisily in the fireplace, providing cheer as well as warmth to the frostbitten quartet.
“I never thought a fire could feel so good,” Will said. He dropped his end of the tree and backed up to the fireplace.
“You’re taking all the room, Daddy,” Clara complained, angling for her share of warmth.
Gertie came in, carrying a tray with three mugs and a heavy clay pitcher.
“Who wants hot cider?” Nan asked, rubbing her hands together.
The three warmed themselves in front of the fire, drank hot cider, and ate thick ham sandwiches while Jake attached the tree to a stand. Will helped him stand it up in front of the window.
“It doesn’t touch the ceiling,” Clara said, disappointment in her voice.
“It’s all right,” Nan said. “I’ve got something special to go on top.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll show you when we’ve finished decorating the tree.”
Clara ran for the popcorn strings.
“Save them for later,” Nan said. She opened another one of the many boxes Jake had brought down the day before. She reached inside and pulled a beautiful hand-painted glass ball from the depths of cotton. “Ask your father to help you tie this on the tree.”
Clara stared at the ornament. “I might break it.”
“I broke lots of them, but every year I got more.”
With her father’s help, Clara managed to tie the ball on the tree.
“How many more?” Will asked when Nan opened a third box. “My fingers are full of pricks already.”
“Not many,” Nan answered.
After they had tied on the last painted ball, Nan and Will helped Clara put the gold and silver chains on the tree. The six popcorn chains went on last.
“And now for the top,” Nan said. She opened another box and pulled out a beautiful angel with long, flowing hair and a long, white dress. “It takes a ladder. Can you do it?” she asked Will.
“Sure,” he said. He was a little unsteady, but Nan made herself concentrate on holding the ladder rather than on Will.
“There,” he said, when he had settled the angel on the top of the tree.
He climbed down, and all three stepped back to admire their handiwork.
“You deserve a treat after all that work,” Gertie said.
She set a plate of cookies on a small table. Will reached for one immediately.
“I only gave you five,” Gertie told him. “Any more would spoil your dinner.”
Will blushed slightly. “I didn’t realize I had made such a pig of myself.”
“Don’t worry your head about it. Everybody in Beaker’s Bend is crazy about Nan’s shortbreads. They’re the first thing to disappear every year.” Gertie gave him a closer inspection. “You could use a little fattening up. Don’t you eat regular?”
“It’s hard, traveling all the time.”
“Leave Mr. Atkins alone, Gertie,” Nan said. “His eating habits are really none of our concern.”
“Well, somebody ought to look after him. Everybody knows God never did make a man with sense enough to look after himself.” Gertie turned to Clara. “I’ve got some hot chocolate in the kitchen. It’s a lot better than that old cider.”
“Go on,” Nan said, when Clara cast her an inquiring look. “Gertie makes the best hot chocolate in the whole valley.”
As she left the room, Gertie gave Nan such a pointed look that Nan felt herself blush. Gertie’s change of attitude puzzled her. Just that morning she had acted as if she wanted Will out of the house at the earliest moment. Now, if her sly hints, head nods, and glances out of the corners of her eyes were any indication, she had decided Nan ought t
o marry him and take him in hand.
Nan suddenly felt weak. Marry him! That was what Gertie meant, but that wasn’t what bothered her. She, too, had been thinking about marrying him. That bothered her a lot.
She didn’t know anything about Will Atkins except that he traveled so much, he couldn’t take proper care of his own daughter. That was the difference between men and women. If she had a child, she would never give it up, not even for the most successful business in the whole world. It was a choice only a man would make.
But she couldn’t think Will was the kind of man to do that either, even though he had said he was going to. He loved his daughter too much. Nan didn’t believe he could live without her.
“Gertie doesn’t think much of men, does she?”
“Don’t let her fool you. She spoils Jake something awful. She’d take his boots off if he’d let her. Have some more cider. Jake says it’s the best we’ve had in years.”
Will looked as if he was going to say something else, but instead he reached for the cider, then another cookie.
“I have to eat my allotment before Gertie decides to take them back,” he explained when Nan smiled at him.
“Eat all you want. They’re very easy to make.”
“And very rich.”
“You keep eating like that, and you’ll look like Santa Claus.”
“Why isn’t your brother coming home this Christmas?”
“He’s spending it with his fiancée’s family.”
“Why don’t you have a fiancé, or a family? How did a lovely woman like you escape being snapped up?”
Nan was tempted to tell him it was none of his business. “The time never seemed right. When the boys came courting, I was busy nursing my parents. After they died, nobody came anymore.”
“You’re content to remain here?”
“What do you expect me to do? Put an ad in the paper telling everybody the door’s on the latch?”
“No, but you could move out of this valley. There are thousands of men who would move heaven and earth for a woman like you.”
“They don’t have to move anything but themselves.”
“No one can find you here.”
“My brother thinks I ought to leave. He says I’ll never find a husband.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“This is my home,” Nan replied angrily. “These are my people. Besides, people who move out of the valley become changed so much they don’t have time for their own daughters. I don’t want anything like that to happen to me.”
“You don’t know anything about my situation,” Will said. “I’m doing it because it’s best for Clara.”
Nan refused to apologize for her anger. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he had hurt her, and she had struck back. He had no right to judge her, to tell her what to do, not when his own life was in such a tangle.
“You think sending Clara to live with her grandparents is so terrible?” Will asked.
“I think it’s the most awful thing you could do.”
“I agree with you.”
“Then why are you doing it?” Nan asked, so surprised she didn’t think to control her curiosity.
“Because there’s nothing else I can do. Gertie’s right. A man can’t take care of himself. He’s even worse at taking care of a child.”
Clara came back into the room. She picked up her doll and climbed into the sofa. She leaned against one of the overstuffed cushions and stared at the Christmas tree. Will chose a cookie and moved back to the fire, but his gaze never left his daughter.
Nan got up to light the candles. She had been right. Will didn’t want to lose his daughter. Her heart overflowed with compassion for a man forced by circumstances to give up the one person he loved most in the whole world.
“Are you sure you have to give her up?” Nan whispered as she came to stand next to him before the fire. The light from the candles played on the windows and the gleaming glass balls on the Christmas tree.
“I have no choice,” Will replied. “I’ve tried, but I don’t have time for both Clara and my business.”
“Then why…”
“Why don’t I do something else?”
Yes, she had been going to ask that.
“I’m a salesman. It’s what I know, what I do best. It’s really the only way I know to make a living. The business was Louise’s dream. She wanted it for our children. She made me promise to do it for Clara.”
Clara lay down on the cushion, eyes only half open.
“Do you think she cares?” Nan asked in a harsh undervoice.
“Not now, but when she’s older, she’ll—”
“She’ll what? Want a lot of money she’ll end up leaving to her children? She’d rather have you.”
“Not everybody can make the choices they want.”
“They can if they have the courage.”
“What about you?”
“I haven’t been offered any choices.”
“You could leave.”
“And go where? Do what? All I know how to do is run this farm.”
“You could go with your brother.”
“And be the old-maid sister, hanging on his sleeve, taking care of his children? No, thank you. I’d rather stay here and live my own life. If I’m going to take care of other people’s children, I’d rather it be the people of Beaker’s Bend. I’ve known them since I was born. We’re all part of the same family. I’ll never be truly alone as long as I’m here.”
“But you’ll never have a family of your own.”
“There’s always a chance.”
“It looks like each of us is afraid to take a chance,” Will said.
He looked down at his daughter, who had fallen asleep. “I never understand how children can fall asleep in the middle of a lighted room with people talking.”
“Gertie would say it’s because they have a clear conscience.”
“I say it’s because she hasn’t stopped running all day. You shouldn’t encourage her to be so much trouble.”
“I don’t mind. It’s nice to have a child in the house. I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.”
“Speaking of that, we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
Nan was shocked that he had made plans to leave without talking to her; she was hurt that he wanted to leave so soon. “You can’t. You’re still not strong enough to travel.”
“We’ll stay at the inn for a day or so, then continue to Lexington.”
“If it’s only one day, you might as well stay here.”
“We’ve caused you a lot of work. Besides, the neighbors will begin to talk soon. I lived in a small town long enough to know what gossip can be like.”
“It won’t make any difference. Everybody knows you’re here by now.”
“Thanks, but I think we’d better go.”
Nan had expected to be a little dispirited when Will and Clara left, but she wasn’t prepared for the feeling of desolation that weighed her down. Now, Christmas was going to seem gloomier than ever. The decorations, the tree, all the preparations would be a silent accusation that she didn’t have the courage to leave Beaker’s Bend and search for a new life.
Maybe Will and Gideon were right. Maybe she was foolish to stay here, waiting year after year for the man she feared would never come. It would be even more difficult now. Will Atkins and his daughter had filled her heart, and it would be hard for anyone to oust them. Not that anyone was looking to claim her hand.
No one had since Harve Adams.
* * *
Will felt so tired that he barely had the energy to drop his clothes on the floor and crawl into bed. He had done his best to make Nan believe he had recovered his strength, but now that he was alone, he could admit that he was about to drop in his tracks. His clothes would be wrinkled
in the morning, but he was too tired to care.
His body tightened into a ball in the cold bed. As he lay there, waiting for the bed to warm and his body to relax, he thought again that he didn’t want to leave. It would be so easy to stay. And stay. But he needed to go before he became any more attracted to Nan. There was no future in becoming interested in a woman who would never be happy outside this remote valley.
Of course he couldn’t consider coming back to live in the valley. He had made too many sacrifices for the life he and Louise had wanted, the life they had worked so hard to build and that he had clung to for five years.
Besides, there was nothing to come back to. These last days were unreal, a fairy tale. Christmas would pass and the magic would fade, leaving only the memory of yet another dream.
* * *
Jake entered the front hall to take Will and Clara’s luggage to the wagon. “I saw L.P. yesterday,” he told Nan. “He hasn’t heard from Wilmer since he left for Locust Hollow. The inn was still closed then.”
“Maybe you should leave your luggage here,” Nan said to Will. “Just in case Wilmer’s not back.”
“I think we should take it along,” Will said.
“Do we have to go?” Clara asked. Her spirits had not recovered since her father told her they were leaving. She looked at Nan through teary eyes.
“I’m sure they’ll have a Christmas tree in the inn,” Will said.
“I want my tree. Not another one.” Clara threw herself down on the sofa in tears.
Will sat down next to his daughter. “We’ll be at your grandparents’ house on Christmas. They’ll have a Christmas tree, too.”
* * *
They rode to town in strained silence. When they reached the inn, they found it still shut up.
“Mr. Crider ain’t come back,” L.P. said. He looked at the leaden sky. “If he don’t come back soon, he’ll be snowed in up at that hollow.” He paused. “Maybe he don’t want to come back. He said he means to get shut of this place.”
“You mean sell it?” Nan asked, incredulous. “He’s run the inn for as long as I can remember.”
“Ruby’s been after him to move to the hollow. Besides, Wilmer’s been wanting to take it easy. Says running an inn ain’t no business for no old man.”
Longing for a Cowboy Christmas Page 4
