The Christmas Confection

by Shanna Hatfield

  “It’s a regular feast,” Tom said, taking the knife Arlan held out to him to slice the bread while Luke carved off thick slices of ham.

  “Go sit by the fire, Elsa. You need to stay warm,” Fred said in a soft voice, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze when she continued to stand next to his chair.

  “What about you? You’ll freeze without a shirt on. At least cover up with a blanket,” she said, yanking off the blanket Ethan had wrapped around her and draping it over Fred’s back.

  He shook his head and tried to hand it to her, but she placed her hands over his, drawing the blanket around to close at the base of his throat. “Leave it, Fred. There are other blankets I can use.”

  Mindful of her determination, he nodded and accepted the cup of coffee Blake gave him. He never acquired a taste for coffee, but he was cold enough and tired enough, he wouldn’t turn down the hot drink.

  One of the other men handed Elsa a blanket he’d brought in and she returned to her seat close to the stove. When she kept shooting wistful glances his way, Fred forced himself to stand and used his foot to drag the chair next to her. He settled on it with a grunt, but Elsa gave him a pleased smile.

  Luke and Blake passed around the sandwiches and kept the coffee pot full. With so many bodies crammed into the small shack, it didn’t take long to chase away the chill, or for the stench of the outlaws unacquainted with the principals of cleanliness to grow unbearably ripe.

  “Whew! Did you boys roll around with a dead skunk?” Tom asked, holding his hand beneath his nose in a futile attempt to block the stink of unwashed bodies.

  “Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation,” Arlan stated, eyeing the smelly men in the back corner.

  Blake smirked. “Quoting Ben Franklin again?”

  “Of course,” Arlan said, grinning at Blake. “I can’t help it if he provided quotes appropriate for most every situation.”

  “Even old Ben might have a few additional words for that odor,” Luke said, stepping outside. When he returned, he carried a few pine branches and a handful of pinecones. He tossed the pinecones in the stove then stripped the green needles from the branches into an old dented pot. He added a scoop of snow and set it on top of the stove. As the needles warmed, they emitted a scent that helped counter the malodorous aroma of the outlaws.

  “I’ll have to remember that trick,” Fred said, smiling at Luke as the man wiped his sap-sticky hands on the sides of the denims he wore.

  “Hopefully, you won’t be trapped in a tiny shack with a bunch of reeking pigs again.” Luke grinned at Fred, aware of the hateful glares the outlaws tossed his way.

  Fred shut his eyes, listening to the low murmur of the men from Hardman as they spoke. The conversation focused on the upcoming holiday, news from town, and the program at church. Acutely aware of Elsa beside him, Fred reached out with his uninjured hand until he found her fingers. Entwining them with his, he let his hand rest on the bench between them, content just to touch her, to assure himself she was real and safe.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Fred?” Her warm breath blew across his ear and along his neck, causing an involuntary shiver to roll over him.

  “You’re freezing, aren’t you?” she asked, reaching to pull another blanket over him. He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the backs of her fingers. “I’m fine sugar bun. Just sit still right here beside me and tell me about all the wonderful things you’re planning to make for Christmas. Will you make those oatmeal cookies I like with the nuts and cranberries?”

  “Sugar bun?” She gave him a questioning look before she smiled. “Of course I’ll make your favorite cookies. And I’ll bake braided bread wreaths with cherries, pumpkin pies, and we just have to make ginger cookies, and jam-filled cookies. There will be cream-filled buns, and chocolate candy with walnuts, and…”

  Fred relaxed, listening to Elsa’s sweet voice, grateful beyond belief she was alive and well. And if he had anything to say about, she would soon be his.

  The moment his friends rode up on the hill, Fred realized it was time to let go of the past. What his father, and even his mother, had been weren’t his burdens to bear. Not any longer. Fred wasn’t alone in the world. He had good friends, a wonderful life, and, he hoped, a woman willing to let him love her.

  Judging by the way she returned his kiss, he was certain she had feelings for him, too. All they needed to do was make it back to Hardman and he’d do his best to woo her.

  When the first streaks of dawn broke over the horizon, Fred pulled on his shirt and coat then removed the gag from Curly’s mouth.

  “You’re going to tell us everything you know about my father, this hideout, and Gloria.” Fred pointed to where Elsa slept, leaning against her brother. “That woman over there is not Gloria. Her name is Elsa Lindstrom. She and her brother own the bakery in town. Elsa said you mentioned something about the last time you saw Gloria with my father. She said you hinted that he’d hurt her. Is that true?”

  “Well, if that lil’ gal ain’t Gloria, she sure enough could be her twin.” Curly gave Elsa a long look before Fred reached out and grasped his face, turning him around to face him. Luke and Blake flanked him, making an intimidating trio for anyone to face.

  Curly swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Your pa and me and some others had robbed a stage up in Washington. I came with him when he rode back to Hardman. He’d do that every few months, bring back his loot and hide it, you see. Only thing is, he didn’t let anyone know exactly where he hid it. I tried following him once, and he liked to strangled me to death when he caught me trailing him.”

  Fred had no problem believing what the outlaw shared. His father had tried to kill him more than once, too. “So where does Gloria come into the picture?”

  Curly frowned. “I’m getting to that. As you recall, your pa enjoyed his time with the gals at the Red Lantern, just like you did.” Curly sneered at Fred before he continued. “You both had quite a thing for Gloria. Woohee, she was a purty gal, with all that blond hair and them big blue eyes. Looked just like…” The outlaw started to look at Elsa again, but Fred yanked his head back around.

  With a resigned sigh, Curly nodded. “Anyhow, like I was saying, ol’ Joe sure had him a thing for Gloria, but she tried to talk him into buying her freedom. She knew he was loaded with gold and was just hiding it up in the hills, living off his wife’s fortune. Gloria begged him to take her with him the next time he left town. So the afternoon we rode back into town, Joe went to the Red Lantern and told Gloria if she wanted to leave, to come with him. He told me to wait in town and he’d be back in a few days. Well, I was still wanting to see where he had his hideout, so I followed him for a while. He rode about an hour then made camp near a little stream. At first, it didn’t look like he was gonna do nothing but have him a good time with that gal, but then he started in to beating on her.” Curly cringed. “I left when she stopped screaming and fighting. Always did think he’d probably killed her and the other harlots that went missing. Joe said one time he had more than treasure buried at his hideout.”

  “Did he ever say where, exactly, he hid the money?”

  “Nope, and he was always real careful about keeping it a secret.”

  Fred glanced at Luke and Blake. How in the world were they going to find his father’s hidden cache of gold and the possible graves of at least four women with more than a foot of snow on the ground?

  After making more coffee and passing around the last of the bread, ham, and cookies, the men bundled up and took the outlaws outside. Fred and Luke remained in the shack while Elsa pulled on her boots and readied for the long, cold trip home.

  Fred paced across the floor, trying to decide what to do when he felt the floorboard beneath him give slightly.

  He bent down to examine the floor then shoved aside the table. “Help me with this, Luke.” He reached for the poker by the stove and used it to pry up a loose board. When he did, they could see the outline for a cleverly hidden t
rap door.

  Luke yanked it upward and peered down into the darkness below them. “Get a lantern.”

  Fred lit the one lantern in the shack then unearthed some dusty candles from a shelf near the table. He stuffed several in his pockets as Tom, Blake, and Arlan came back inside with Ethan.

  “Take Elsa outside,” he ordered Ethan. The man offered no argument as he led his sister outside and closed the door behind him.

  “I’ll go first,” Fred said, holding the lantern in his good hand as he set his feet on the steps of an old splintered ladder that led down into the hole below them.

  At the bottom he waited for the others to join him before he handed them candles and they lit them from the lantern’s wick. Light illuminated what could have been an old cellar. Around them, stacks of boxes were filled with gold and silver coins, watches and jewelry. Fred couldn’t imagine how many people his father had robbed and killed during his lifetime to amass this kind of fortune in ill-gotten goods. His gaze landed on an ornate antique box, the kind that would take a brass key similar to the one Curly held. Fred wondered what the box contained, but there would be time to look later.

  He moved deeper into the room, holding the lantern up to cast more light through the darkness. In the far dank corner rested the remains of four bodies. Fred had no doubt they were the missing women from the saloon. What had his father done to the poor girls?

  Fred dropped to his knees and closed his eyes in prayer. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and he looked up at Arlan and the others.

  Arlan squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll take care of it, Fred. For now, let’s get Elsa back to Hardman.”

  Unable to speak, Fred nodded and rose to his feet. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elsa snuggled beneath her covers then stretched in her bed before rising for the day. Rather than rush to dress, as she normally did, she took a few minutes to style her hair in a fashionable, loose bun on top of her head, leaving curls to trail down around her face and along her neck.

  She pulled on a dark red dress and added a white lacy collar before she slipped on her shoes and made her way downstairs to the bakery kitchen.

  Only after she’d stoked the stove and had a kettle of water heating along with a pot of coffee did she look outside and see big, fluffy snowflakes falling down.

  “It’s a perfect Christmas Eve,” she whispered as she tied on a big ruffled apron. The lace on it made her feel feminine and pretty, even if she had to work this morning.

  The past week, since Fred had ridden to her rescue, she’d hardly seen him. The infuriating man had seen her home then returned the next day to check on her. He’d kissed her then, kissed her so thoroughly and passionately, Elsa decided she no longer cared about building up a bakery empire or anything else beyond how much she loved Fred. He’d taken two bullets to save her and would have given up his life if that’s what it had taken to keep her safe.

  Instinctively, she knew Fred felt some measure of guilt over what his father had done, but he shouldn’t. She’d even tried to explain that to him, but he didn’t appear to listen to what she had to say. He’d told her he’d done things, horrible things, that could never be forgiven.

  “Have you killed anyone?” she asked, glaring at him as they sat at her kitchen table sipping tea and eating cookies.

  “Of course not,” he’d snapped and rose to his feet, pacing across the kitchen floor.

  “In the past five years, have you robbed anyone? Done anything malicious to anyone?” she questioned.

  “No, I haven’t, but Elsa…” His voice sounded pained as he sat down and took her hand in his. “Before that, when I was younger, when my father was…” He sighed. “What Curly told you, about the things I used to…”

  She silenced him by placing a finger over his lips. “It doesn’t matter, Fred. You aren’t who you were then. What happened before doesn’t matter to me. You don’t owe me any confessions or explanations. I love you for the man you are right now — the one who would have laid down his life to rescue me.”

  Fred stared at her wide-eyed. Then his shocked expression melted into a pleased smile. “You… you love me?”

  “Of course I do!” Elsa clasped his hand between hers and held it to her chest. “How could I not love you, Fred. You are kind and generous, witty and fun, charming and intelligent. And no one else in the world would get away with calling me sugar bun.”

  He grinned and lifted her onto his lap, kissing her until Elsa was dizzy with the bliss of his unbridled affections. “I love you, my lovely little sugar bun.” He kissed her again then set her on her feet. “Wait for me?” he asked.

  “Forever and a day,” she said, knees trembling as he kissed both of her palms then rushed out her back door in a flurry of cold air and blowing snow.

  And that was the last she’d seen him. His aunts were gone and without their effervescent presence in town, the place seemed rather quiet. Although, the sheriff and U.S. Marshal had created quite a stir the day they’d driven into Hardman with two wagons loaded with Joe Decker’s stolen loot. The metal box Curly had been so determined to find held the deeds to three properties in Washington and two in Idaho. The U.S. Marshal was trying to return stolen items to the rightful owners, but most likely some of them would never be located.

  Thoughts of locating someone made Elsa wonder, again, where Fred had gone. Perhaps he’d traveled back to Philadelphia to make sure the three women had arrived safely. Filly and Ginny said Fred made sure they left town the very afternoon Curly had kidnapped her.

  Questions to Tom, Arlan, Blake and Luke didn’t give her any satisfactory answers as to Fred’s whereabouts. He wasn’t at his farm, because Elsa had walked out there one afternoon to see if she could find him. James Grove had been there, seeing to the chores, but he claimed he had no idea where Fred had gone either.

  Elsa would have been frantic except that Fred had asked her to wait for him and she’d promised him forever. Since it had been less than a week, she decided not to let worry about the unknown rob her of the joy of the holiday season.

  In fact, if Fred had been there, the day would have been perfect. Her relationship with Ethan was restored and back on solid footing. And Elsa was learning to like her sister-in-law. The woman had doted on her since the kidnapping, bringing her tea and a pair of warm slippers, and offering to take over the baking until Elsa felt more rested. Afraid of what havoc Miss La-De-Da might wreak in her kitchen, Elsa politely refused, but felt reassured that Lottie did care about her.

  Business at the bakery was booming, and the excitement of Christmas filled the air. Elsa couldn’t help but join in the holiday fun no matter how much she worried about Fred.

  Anna and Percy brought Elsa a small Christmas tree which she set in the big paned front window of the bakery. The two young people helped her decorate it then Percy brought extra branches for Elsa to use for decorations on the tables and along the front counter.

  The scent of pine mingled with cinnamon and yeast, creating the most wonderful aroma in the air. To Elsa it smelled of Christmas and home, holidays and hope.

  She breathed deeply of the aroma as she worked to make special Christmas treats. She’d just finished baking a batch of Fred’s favorite cookies when Ethan and Lottie arrived.

  Since it was the day of the Christmas carnival and the church program, she’d told Anna to take the day off. The girl had plenty to do without rising early to help in the bakery. Ethan volunteered to come in extra early to make up for Anna’s absence.

  “Happy Christmas Eve,” Elsa said, giving Lottie then Ethan a hug after they’d removed their coats and hats.

  “Happy Christmas Eve to you, dear Elsa,” Lottie said, beaming with joy. “Oh, it’s so beautiful outside.”

  “And cold,” Ethan said, tucking his chilly fingers down the neck of his wife’s dress.

  Lottie shrieked and spun away from him while Elsa laughed at their playfulness.

  “Do you have food set
aside for the community lunch today?” Ethan asked as he poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Lottie.

  “I have three pies, a white layer cake, a batch of chocolate caramels, and six dozen dinner rolls.” Elsa pointed to boxes on the table by the door. “We can take everything over as soon as we close after breakfast.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Ethan said, then winked at Lottie.

  Elsa looked from one to the other, sensing they knew something she didn’t, but had no idea what it could be. “Shall we open the door? I just made rice pudding and I can’t wait to see who finds the almond.”

  “The almond?” Lottie asked as she slipped on an apron over her festive holly-green dress.

  “It’s a tradition. The pudding is made with just one whole almond. Whoever finds it in their bowl will be the next to wed,” Ethan explained as he set coffee cups and a pot of coffee on a large tray to carry out front.

  Lottie giggled and wrapped an arm around Elsa’s waist. “You best get busy eating that pudding, Elsa.”

  Elsa rolled her eyes and the other two laughed.

  For the next hour, they hurried to serve the customers eager to enjoy breakfast at the bakery. Percy Bruner escorted Anna inside. Elsa gave them both a bowl of the special pudding and grinned when Anna held the almond up on her spoon.

  Percy whooped and kissed Anna’s cheek. “I knew you’d find it! It’s official, Miss Anna Jenkins. Now you have to marry me.”

  Everyone laughed as Anna blushed. She patted Percy’s cheek and gave him a look full of love. “You’ve known all along I plan to marry you someday, Percy. A silly old almond won’t change that.”

  Elsa felt something pierce her heart as she watched the two young people, already so in love, and wondered what had happened to Fred. She’d at least hoped to see him for Christmas. Surely, if he planned to be gone for the holiday, he would have let her know. Wouldn’t he?