Pony Express Christmas Bride

by Rhonda Gibson

  “Because you both have that Now what? look about you.”

  Thomas began walking again. “Oh, really?”

  “Yep. Did she not enjoy your kisses, big brother?”

  Thomas knew goading when he heard it. He ignored the question and stopped the horse at the side of the barn. As he unhitched the wagon, his thoughts went back to that moment in the snow, with Josephine in his arms and his lips on hers. Had she enjoyed his kiss? She’d kissed him back, so he’d assumed she did.

  “I think you are your own worst enemy.” Philip leaned against the barn wall.

  Thomas finished with the horse and led it inside the warm barn. “You’re probably right,” he admitted.

  “We used to talk about girls and the way they acted around us,” Philip said, following him to a stall, where Thomas released the little mare.

  “You mean we used to talk about how they treated me,” he answered bitterly. His memories of those talks hadn’t faded. Philip had always stood up for him when the girls had called him ugly or Scar Face.

  Philip nodded. “Yep. Did Josephine say something about the scar?”

  “Nope.”

  A frown marred Philip’s otherwise handsome face. “Then what did she do?”

  He swallowed. “If you must know, she touched it.”

  Philip barked. “That’s it? She’s touched your face before. Remember? Before the dance, Josephine touched your face and told you how pretty you are.”

  Thomas shook his head. “This was different.” How could he explain his feelings to his brother when he didn’t really understand them himself?

  Hardness entered Philip’s voice. “What did she say?” All teasing had been tossed to the side. Anger that Josephine had hurt his brother in some way filled Philip’s face.

  “Nothing,” Thomas admitted.

  His brother frowned. “I’m confused. Did she not say anything? Or do you not want to tell me what she did say?”

  “Philip, it really is none of your business.”

  He nodded. “I see. She didn’t say anything. You let the words of the past spoil your day together.” Philip sighed. “Thomas, you have to forget those girls and their cruel words. I’ve seen the way Josephine looks at you. She doesn’t see the scar.”

  Thomas curled his hands into fists. “What does she see, Philip? You know my wife so well, tell me.”

  Philip took a step toward Thomas. “I’m not the enemy here, Thomas. But I won’t let you hurt her and push her away because of some cruel words spoken to you when you were twelve.”

  He felt the fight leave him. Philip was right. He needed to forget the past. But how did one do that? How do you simply forget the cruel words that have haunted you for years? Thomas didn’t know how and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to trust that Josephine didn’t see the ugliness of his face.

  “Let’s head to the house. I’m cold and hungry.” Philip slapped him on the back. “Whatever you did or didn’t do, I’m sure Josephine will forgive you.”

  Thomas nodded. “Yeah, I’m hungry, too.” He felt as if his boots weighed a ton. When they got to the porch, he said, “Help me get this tree in the house.”

  Philip willingly did so. They stomped their feet as they came through the door.

  Josephine came from the kitchen. “I thought we might set it beside the window.” She pointed to the area she meant.

  Thomas watched her walk back into the kitchen. He’d hurt her with his silence today. He knew it but didn’t know how to fix it. He’d start by setting the tree up for her. Maybe that would bring back some of the joy he’d snuffed out.

  The smell of frying ham pulled him to the kitchen. “Something smells good in here,” he said.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d make some flapjacks and ham for dinner.” She kept her back to him.

  Thomas walked to the counter and leaned a hip against it. “I’m sorry, Josephine. Will you forgive me?”

  She looked up at him. Her eyelashes looked moist. “For what? Being quiet?”

  He took a deep breath. “That and spoiling our outing.”

  Josephine nodded. “All right, I’ll forgive you, but will you tell me what I did wrong?”

  He busied himself pouring coffee into three mugs. “It wasn’t you. It was me.”

  She turned the ham over in the skillet. “I understand that part. What I don’t understand is what I said that caused you to draw away from me.” The hurt in her voice pulled at him.

  Thomas ran a hand over the scarred side of his face. “I’ve had this scar all my life.”

  A frown tugged at her eyebrows, but Josephine didn’t interrupt. She focused on the meat.

  “When I was younger and living at the orphanage, the girls there would taunt me. Tell me I was ugly, call me names.” He swallowed the hurt. “Today, when you traced the scar, all I could hear were their voices. I felt that hurt again, and instead of seeing it as a thing of the past, I pulled away from you. I’m sorry.”

  Josephine removed the skillet from the top of the stove and put it on a hot plate. She walked over to him. “Thomas, that’s horrible. Have you not looked in a mirror?”

  He tried to smile. “I avoid mirrors.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t. The scar is simply a fine white line on your face. It’s not ugly and it certainly doesn’t take away from your handsome features.” She returned to the stove and her skillet of ham. “I forgive you.”

  Thomas nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Go ahead and give Philip that cup of coffee before it gets cold,” she ordered with a soft smile.

  He looked at her face. She smiled, but her eyes still held distrust. His scar was on the surface for the world to see, but Josephine’s ran deeper and he’d hurt her today.

  Thomas nodded and carried the cup to Philip. It would take time, but he hoped to regain her trust. As for her love, Thomas had a feeling they both had a way to go before they were ready for such strong emotions.

  * * *

  After dinner, Josephine spent the next few hours working on Christmas decorations. Thomas had created a stand to keep the tree from falling over. She and Philip had strung berries while Thomas read to them out of the Bible.

  They worked as a team, but her mind didn’t stay focused on what they were doing. She kept thinking about the girls who had hurt Thomas as a child. Why would they be so cruel? Her heart went out to the young man of the past. Would he be able to overcome those hurts? She prayed that with the Christmas holiday coming up, he’d be able to forget past hurts and move on into their future. Maybe it was time she did the same.

  Philip held up a slice of dried orange that he’d pushed a wire through and bent into a hanger. He asked, “What do you think of this?”

  She smiled at him. “I like it. We also have lemon slices you can do that to.” Josephine walked to the kitchen, where she kept the tin with her dried fruit. She carried it back to him. “On Christmas Day, we can take some of it off and make spiced tea with it.”

  He took the tin. “Like the kind Ma had at the dance?”

  Josephine smiled. “Maybe. I have a recipe from Hazel. It might or might not be the same.” Her gaze moved to her now-silent husband.

  Thomas sat reading the Bible quietly to himself. Earlier, he’d read the story of Mary and the angel who came to tell her that she’d have the baby Jesus. Josephine watched as his eyes scanned the pages of the Bible.

  Philip nodded. “I think that would be a right nice Christmas treat.” He focused on pushing the wire through the fruit without tearing it up. “What time are you going to take Hazel her tree tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I guess that is up to Thomas.”

  Hearing his name, he looked up. “What’s up to me?”

  Philip grinned. “What time are you takin
g Hazel her tree tomorrow?”

  “Oh, we can go after the morning chores are done.”

  Josephine picked up another berry to string for the tree’s garland. Would they have enough decorations for both trees? She looked at the small pile they’d completed so far. They had small paper chains, yarn rope that could be used as garland, dried fruit on hooks and tapered candles.

  Philip yawned as only a man can do. He laid the last piece of dried lemon down with the others and announced, “I’m heading to bed. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll be leaving for my ride.”

  “Already?” Josephine was amazed at how quickly the days passed.

  He grinned. “Yep, time flies. It seems like only yesterday that I was coming home.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose so. It takes several days just to recover, and then it seems as if you’re right back on the horse and the trail again.”

  Thomas laid the Bible down in his lap. “I still can’t believe that just a couple of short months ago you were working as a Pony Express rider.” He smiled at her, causing her heart to turn over.

  Josephine ran her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe how fast my hair is growing. I’m not sure I could do it again without chopping off these red curls.”

  “Don’t you dare. Your curls are beautiful.”

  Both Josephine and Philip looked at Thomas. The force of his voice caused them both to stare at him. She watched the red flush start at his neck and move into his face.

  “Thank you, Thomas.” She grinned at his embarrassment.

  Philip grunted. “I’m going to bed. You two are about to get mushy again.”

  She felt the heat rise in her own cheeks. “I think I’ll turn in, too.” They hadn’t kissed, hugged or even touched each other since they’d gone out to get the tree. Josephine didn’t want to admit she was nervous about spending alone time with Thomas. She set her berry garland to the side and stood.

  Thomas stood, also. “Good night, Josephine.”

  A smile touched her lips. She knew he was trying to renew the comfort with each other they’d lost earlier. “Good night, Thomas.” Josephine walked to her bedroom.

  She closed the door and leaned against the cool wood. Would they ever feel comfortable around each other again? She knew it wasn’t Thomas’s earlier behavior that had them feeling ill at ease with each other but the kiss they’d shared. When would they be able to enjoy each other’s company again without it feeling strange? Without her longing for what she couldn’t have?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Just as Josephine had hoped, Hazel was thrilled at receiving a Christmas tree and decorations. She had fussed as Thomas put it up for her and then oohed and aahed over the homemade decorations.

  “These are exquisite, Jo. I love them,” Hazel said, dangling an orange slice over a low-hanging branch.

  Josephine laughed. “I’m glad you like them. Philip made most of those.” She picked up a string of dried berries and handed it to Hazel. “I can’t wait for you to come over and see the house. We’ve decorated the tree and the fireplace mantel and even hung a sprig of mistletoe over the back door.”

  Hazel laughed. “Trying to get that man of yours to kiss you, are you?” She finished hanging the berry garland and then reached for another piece of dried fruit.

  Heat filled Josephine’s cheeks. “No. It was Philip’s idea.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Josephine tried to convince her. “It’s true. You can ask him next time you see him.”

  “Which won’t be for a few days. Isn’t he supposed to be riding out today?” Hazel stepped back to admire her tree. She’d had them place it in the corner of the room close to her rocking chair.

  “Yes, but he’ll be home in time for Christmas.” Josephine straightened the string of berries, then stepped back to enjoy the tree, too. “You will be coming over for Christmas Eve dinner, won’t you?”

  Hazel gave an unladylike snort and said, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Josephine chuckled. “Good. It wouldn’t seem right without you.” She hugged Hazel. “I’m so glad you are a part of my life now.”

  “So am I.”

  Thomas reentered the house. “I milked that stubborn cow of yours, Hazel.” He held up a bucket of milk. “Can’t believe she’s still giving this much.”

  The two women parted. “She’s a keeper,” Hazel answered with a grin.

  Josephine wished their cow would give as much milk. Most days they got only half a gallon in the morning, and if they were lucky, another half in the evening.

  “Do you need more milk, Josephine?” Hazel walked to the milk pail.

  “With these two men, I can always use extra milk, if you don’t need it,” Josephine answered. Philip loved drinking milk and could drink a gallon a day. “And I’ll be making a couple of desserts in the next few days.”

  Hazel poured the thick white milk into jars for Josephine.

  Thomas came farther into the kitchen. “Josephine, would you mind visiting with Hazel for a little longer? I’d like to ride with Philip as far as Dove Creek. I can come back and get you this evening.”

  “If it’s all right with Hazel, it’s all right with me,” Josephine answered, happy to have time to talk to her friend about the strange feelings Thomas’s touch and look created in her.

  Hazel waved her hand. “Of course it’s all right with me.”

  Thomas grinned. “Good. I’ll be back shortly.” And then he was gone.

  Josephine stared at the closed door. She sighed.

  Hazel chuckled. “You got it bad, Jo.”

  “What? What do I have bad?”

  The older woman shook her head. “You don’t know?”

  Was she sick? Had Hazel seen something in her that she hadn’t been aware of? Josephine touched her hand to her forehead.

  “You don’t have that kind of fever, child.” Hazel shook her head. “I forget how young you are.”

  Josephine frowned. “Then what do I have?”

  “You’ve fallen under the spell of the love bug.” Hazel laughed.

  Embarrassed, Josephine ducked her head. “No, I don’t think I have.”

  “Humph. If you aren’t in love, I’ll eat that row of dried berries you strung on that tree.” Hazel walked back to the sitting room and sat down on the sofa.

  Had she fallen in love with Thomas? No. This wasn’t love. She admired him and was thankful he was a kind man. But Josephine Dooly Young was not in love with her husband. She shook her head.

  “Oh, so when your hands accidentally touch, you don’t feel a small spark of electricity? Hearing his deep laughter doesn’t thrill you to your toes? And I’d wager that when he kisses you, you aren’t thinking about chores.” Hazel picked up her knitting and began to work the wooden needles through the yarn.

  Josephine felt heat rise in her cheeks. Wasn’t this what she wanted to talk to Hazel about? She groaned. “Oh, Hazel, what am I going to do?”

  Hazel looked up at her with a frown. “Now, what kind of silly question is that? You’re going to tell him how you feel.”

  Josephine rolled her mother’s locket in her hand. “No, I’m not.”

  “Why in the blue blazes not?” Hazel laid her needles to the side.

  “Because I can’t be in love with him.” She played with the locket’s clasp.

  Hazel frowned. “Is there something you aren’t telling me? Because I can’t think of one good reason why you can’t love your husband.”

  Josephine took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Hazel, I don’t trust him. It’s not his fault. I don’t believe I can ever trust any man.”

  Hazel jumped to her feet. “That is one of the stupidest things I believe I’ve ever heard.”

  Had Hazel just called her stupid? Josephine swallowe
d the lump in her throat.

  “Thomas Young has been nothing but kind to you. Even Phillip has changed and has been a wonderful brother-in-law. How can you not trust him?” Hazel paced in front of the sofa. Mama dog paced with her.

  “I know, Hazel, but a part of me doesn’t feel like I can trust him.” Josephine stood up, too.

  This was a bad idea. She should have known Hazel would defend Thomas and Philip. After all, Hazel had been their friend long before she was hers. Josephine walked to the door and pulled on her coat.

  Puzzled by Josephine’s actions, Hazel asked, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going home. I shouldn’t have told you that I don’t trust Thomas.” She pulled her scarf around her neck and her gloves onto her hands.

  Hazel shook her head. “Jo, you don’t need to go home.”

  She looked to the old woman. Concern reflected in Hazel’s eyes. “I do. I’m going to go home and pray about my feelings. As you pointed out, I have no reason to distrust my husband.” Josephine pulled the door open. Cold air lifted the edges of her scarf. Before Hazel could protest further, Josephine closed the door behind her.

  It didn’t take long to saddle the horse and start for home. Thankfully the route to Hazel’s house was stomped down well. Thomas and Philip made daily visits to Hazel’s to make sure she was safe and had worn the snow down on the path. By the time she got home, her nose and cheeks were frozen.

  Josephine made quick work of settling the horse in the barn and hurried to the warmth of the house. The puppy rushed outside and did her business while Josephine took off her coat, gloves and scarf. As soon as the puppy was back inside, Josephine walked to the kitchen, where she poured water into a pan to heat, thinking spiced tea would settle her emotions.

  Hazel had meant well, but her words and insinuation that Josephine was stupid cut deep. Little One danced around her feet as she poured hot water over the tea leaves and lemon slices.

  While it steeped, Josephine went to her bedroom and pulled out Thomas’s Christmas gift. The shirt was almost complete; all she needed to do was sew on the buttons.