A Pioneer Christmas Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  The room remained completely silent. Milly looked at her aunt. The defiance so evident in her eyes a moment ago had disappeared.

  “I–I’m not lonely,” she said. She lifted her chin, which quivered slightly. “I’m perfectly…happy.” She burst into tears and fled upstairs.

  Cornelius leaned against the stair banister. Weariness edged his expression. “Well. That was unexpected.” He looked at Elijah. “My apologies, Mr. Montgomery. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “It’s all right.” He glanced at Milly, his eyes filled with concern. Then he looked back at her father. “That was tame compared to some of our family spats.”

  Her father shook his head. “I guess I didn’t realize she felt that way. And that O’Reardon did, too. And here I thought Louise was the cross I was forced to bear. Seems we all have more in common than we thought.” He sighed and left the room.

  Milly felt Elijah’s gaze on her. She looked up at him.

  “It seems we do,” he said, lightly touching his fingers to hers. Then he snatched his hand away, as if the gesture had been out of his control. He moved past her. “We should finish hanging the garland,” he said.

  She thought his voice sounded thicker than usual. Did he experience the same thrill she did at his touch? She didn’t dare hope so. “Yes,” she said, glad she sounded somewhat normal. “We should.”

  Early that afternoon, Milly started setting the table for Christmas Eve supper. Her father had been busy preparing the meal in the kitchen, while Aunt Louise and Mr. O’Reardon had stayed in their rooms upstairs. She wondered if they would come down for supper. She hoped so, as she added two more plates to the table.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. She looked up, smiling when she saw Elijah. He looked especially handsome, dressed in a black suit and white cravat. His attire was fancier than she’d seen him wear before, and far more elegant than the men in her village wore. However, as he neared, she could see the suit was fraying at the shoulders, and the cravat was limp. He had used this suit often, probably when he had given his sermons. But she didn’t care about the condition of his suit. Not when she knew the condition of his heart.

  “Can I help with anything?” he asked as he approached the table.

  “No, I’m just about finished.”

  He looked at the counter where a stack of red napkins waited to be folded. He walked over and started the task.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind.” He finished folding a napkin in a small square. Simple, and a little lopsided.

  She hid a grin.

  He looked at the napkin. “It’s a little crooked.”

  “It’s fine.” She smiled. “No one will notice anyway.”

  Elijah picked up another napkin. “Oh, my mother would. So would Father.” He half smiled. “If he knew I was doing something as domestic as folding napkins, he’d have more than a few words for me.” His smile disappeared. “He always has more than a few words.”

  Milly heard the disappointment in his voice, the same tone he’d had when they had talked about the reason for his trip west the other night. “Does your father ever have anything nice to say?”

  Elijah froze in the middle of folding the napkin. “I…I suppose he does.” He looked down and resumed folding. “But it seems I only remember the negative things.” He faced Milly. “That’s the power of words. They can build…or destroy. And it’s why I worry that I won’t say the right ones when I start preaching.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but the door to the tavern flew open. She spun around. A young couple, covered with so much snow they were both nearly white, staggered into the tavern.

  Milly rushed to the door in time to see the man’s lips were blue. He embraced his wife, whose arms were folded over her chest, as if she was cradling something under her coat.

  “Are you all right?” Elijah joined her.

  “C–c–cold,” the man said. “My w–w–wife…”

  Milly brushed snow from the woman’s shoulders as she led her toward the fire. Then she heard a quiet mewling. A baby’s cry.

  Chapter 7

  My baby.” The woman looked at Milly. “P–p–please…take her.”

  “Let’s get in front of the fire, first.” Panic filled her. The couple was nearly frozen. It was a miracle they could move. She hadn’t heard anything else from the baby the woman held underneath her coat. Dread filled her. What was she supposed to do?

  She looked at Elijah. “Get Aunt Louise.” She raised her voice. “Hurry.”

  Elijah ran up the stairs. Milly turned to the woman. “Where is the child?”

  She opened her woolen shawl with shaking hands, cradling a swaddled bundle.

  “Will she be o–o–kay?” The man approached the fire, melting snow dripping from his face.

  Milly couldn’t answer. She looked at the seemingly lifeless bundle, afraid for the worst. Aunt Louise and Elijah came down the stairs.

  “What happened?” Aunt Louise asked as she bustled toward them. Her gaze landed on the baby. “Milly, take these two to your room. Elijah, you go with them. Start a fire in the hearth.”

  “What can I do?”

  Milly’s father had appeared in the room. Louise nodded at him. “Gather blankets and warm them by the fire. Then bring them back to the bedroom.” She looked at the young father. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “Cold. Worried.” He trembled as he spoke, his eyes wild and fretful.

  “Get yourself warmed up, too.” She turned to the stairs. “Mr. O’Reardon?”

  The man was already half down the stairs. “Aye?”

  “Coffee for everyone.”

  He nodded and went to the kitchen.

  Milly led the woman and babe back to her bedroom, Elijah and her aunt trailing them. She said a prayer for the baby…for all of them.

  After he’d built the fire in Milly’s room, Elijah left Milly and her aunt to take care of the baby and mother. When he walked into the main room of the tavern, he saw the man pacing in front of the fire. He stopped when Elijah came near.

  “Are they all right?” His face was nearly as white as the snow outside.

  “They’re warming up.” Feeling the words were inadequate, he added, “They’re in good hands. Milly and Louise will take care of them.”

  The man whipped off his hat, revealing a thick shock of sandy brown hair. “I was so foolish. We should have never left the house.”

  “How long were you out there? Elijah asked.

  The man faced the fire. “I don’t know. Time slipped away when we got lost. We just moved here a few weeks ago from Pittsburgh. Ethel has a large family, and she’s been homesick. When we got an invitation for Christmas Eve supper from the neighbors, she was desperate to go. I wasn’t sure.” He sighed. “Ethel had Anne a month ago. She said it would be okay. We weren’t going far.” He turned to Elijah. “But once we stepped outside, we couldn’t see anything…not even the house.”

  Elijah put his hand on the man’s back. “What’s your name?”

  “William Tomlinson. But everyone calls me Billy,” he added.

  Cornelius came downstairs with a pile of quilts in his arms. He laid them as close to the fire as he dared. O’Reardon appeared from the kitchen, trying to steady coffee cups on a tray.

  “Let me help you with that,” Cornelius said. He took two mugs and handed them to Billy and Elijah. Billy took his but didn’t drink.

  Louise hurried into the room. She looked at Cornelius, her face a picture of calm. “Are those blankets ready?” Her voice didn’t hold nearly the sharpness it usually did when she spoke to him.

  Elijah was impressed with her poise.

  Her father crouched and put his hand on one of them. “This one is a little warm.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Cornelius handed her the blanket. Billy moved toward her. “My wife and baby…are they okay?”

  Louise nodded, but Elijah saw the worry in her eyes. Apparent
ly Billy did too, because he turned away, his shoulders drooping.

  “Just keep the warm blankets and hot coffee coming,” Louise said. She glanced at O’Reardon then disappeared back to Milly’s room.

  “I used the last of the hot coffee,” O’Reardon told Cornelius.

  “We’ll go make more. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

  O’Reardon followed Cornelius to the kitchen, leaving Elijah alone with Billy. He stood next to him. “Why don’t you sit down? Drink some of that coffee?”

  Billy shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to them.” He turned to Elijah. “They’re my life… I won’t be able to go on without them—”

  Elijah put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. He looked him square in the eyes. “Then we will pray you won’t have to.”

  Billy hung his head. “I’m not much of a praying man.”

  “That’s all right.” Elijah suddenly felt a confidence he’d never experienced before. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to pray for you and your family.”

  Billy nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Elijah closed his eyes, keeping his hand on Billy’s shoulder. He prayed aloud, his voice growing stronger as he asked the Lord to keep Ethel and Anne safe, to give Billy peace, to bring them all together to celebrate the miracle of Jesus’ birth. When he finished praying, he squeezed Billy’s shoulder and said, “Amen.”

  Billy turned to Elijah, tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Preacher.”

  Stunned, Elijah dropped his hand from Billy’s shoulder. “I’m not a preacher.”

  “The way you prayed, you could have fooled me.”

  Chapter 8

  How are you doing, Ethel?” Milly asked. She stood away from the bed but close enough to follow her aunt’s instructions.

  From beneath a pile of quilts, Ethel smiled. Baby Anne’s little face, now pink with health and warmth, peeked out from beneath her blankets. “Much better, thank you. I never thought I’d get warm.” She glanced down at her daughter. “And if I was so cold, I could only imagine Anne being chilled through.”

  “You kept her warm enough under your shawl,” Aunt Louise said. “Are you ready to drink a bit of the coffee?” Anne started to fuss. Aunt Louise chuckled. “Seems the babe might be hungry.”

  “I’ll feed her first.”

  Milly stood back, noticing the care with which Aunt Louise spoke to Ethel. She hadn’t seen this side of her aunt since her mother had died. She thought about what Mr. O’Reardon had said about her aunt being lonely. Milly had never considered it. Her uncle had died years ago, before Milly was born, and they had never had any children. But Aunt Louise had several friends, mostly those she went to church with. She thought her aunt came to the tavern so she didn’t have to cook and because she liked needling Milly’s father.

  But as she watched her aunt look at baby Anne so tenderly, with a wistfulness in her eyes, she knew Mr. O’Reardon was right. Her aunt was lonely. Milly should have seen it before now.

  “We’ll give you your privacy,” Aunt Louise said. “But don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything.”

  Ethel nodded. As Milly put her hand on the doorknob, Ethel said, “Wait.”

  “Yes?” Milly asked.

  “Could you send Billy back here? I know he’s so worried and blames himself for this. He shouldn’t. I’m the one who wanted to leave the house and visit the neighbors. He tried to talk me out of it.” Her smile was bittersweet. “He’s a kind man. I can’t let him think this is his fault.”

  Aunt Louise walked over to Ethel and patted her hand. “Neither one of you need to blame yourselves. The three of you are all right—that’s what matters.”

  As Milly and Louise left the room, Milly stopped her aunt in the hallway. “You were wonderful with them, Aunt Louise.”

  Her aunt huffed. “It was a simple thing to get them warmed up.”

  “But you kept them calm. You kept all of us calm.” Milly leaned over and kissed her aunt’s cheek.

  Aunt Louise touched her face. “What was that for?”

  “To let you know I love you.” A lump caught in Milly’s throat. “I don’t tell you that often enough.” Milly headed for the main room, but her aunt didn’t follow.

  “I’ll be there in a moment.” Aunt Louise’s voice sounded thick. Milly nodded and left her aunt alone, respecting her privacy.

  When she entered the main room, Elijah and Billy were sitting in the chairs near the fire. Both men popped up from their seats when they saw her.

  “How is Ethel?” Billy asked, walking toward her. “Anne?”

  Milly smiled. “They’re both fine. Ethel is asking for you.”

  Billy nodded and started to leave. He paused and looked at Elijah over his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, giving Elijah a nod. Then he disappeared.

  Milly joined Elijah by the fire. “What was that about?”

  Elijah shrugged and stared at the fire. “I don’t know. I just prayed with him.”

  “Obviously that meant a lot to him.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Milly frowned. Elijah seemed distant, lost in thought. “Is something wrong?”

  He paused then shook his head. He looked at Milly and smiled. “Everything’s fine.”

  But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. She was about to press him further when Mr. Menough came downstairs. She and Elijah watched as he yawned and stretched his arms when he reached the bottom.

  “Haven’t slept that well in ages,” he said, moving to stand by the fire. “I don’t think a stampede of horses could have woken me up.”

  Elijah chuckled. “Apparently.”

  Menough lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Did I miss something?”

  The rest of the afternoon and early evening, Milly helped her father prepare the Christmas Eve meal. Aunt Louise sauntered in at one point, only to get a glare from Milly’s father. “If you’re going to badger me about the sage again, you’re too late. I’ve already prepared the stuffing.”

  Aunt Louise straightened her shoulders. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the sage.”

  Her father’s harsh expression softened. “Louise—”

  “But I will take that as my cue to leave. You seem eager to have me gone as soon as possible anyway.”

  “Louise, I didn’t mean—”

  But her aunt had already left. Father wiped the beads of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I will never understand that woman.”

  Milly thought her father probably understood her aunt more than he realized.

  A few moments later, O’Reardon came in. “Can I help with anythin’? I’m feelin’ a little at loose ends while ye two are workin’ so hard.”

  “I’m sure Milly wouldn’t mind if you washed the dishes.” Her father grinned.

  “Not at all,” Milly said, handing O’Reardon the dishcloth. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “Washed plenty o’dishes in me time, lass. Have no choice, seein’ as I’m a lifelong bachelor.” He smiled, but Milly knew better. They all did since hearing O’Reardon’s confession. She marveled that she had known her aunt her entire life and Mr. O’Reardon for several years but never really understood their personal struggles, which mirrored not only her father’s but also a bit of her own.

  As she walked away from the sink, she thought about Elijah. His calling was filled with loneliness, too. Heading to almost uncharted territory alone. Again she both admired and feared for him. But she knew that fear didn’t come from the Lord. Still, it reminded her to pray not only for his safety but also for his emotional state.

  By the time they finished preparing supper, darkness had descended outside. Mr. Menough had gone out earlier to check on the horses again. “Snow’s drifted past two feet,” he said. “Worst blizzard I’ve seen in years. And living in Buffalo, I’ve seen plenty of blizzards.”

  Milly surveyed the tables. Earlier she had pushed three of them together to make one long table and co
vered it with one of her grandmother’s white tablecloths. In the center, several candles flickered, illuminating the room with a soft glow as the fire crackled in the hearth. Other than waiting for the guests to arrive, there was nothing else for her to do. She untied her apron and folded it, placing it behind the dining counter.

  Billy, Ethel, and baby Anne entered the dining room. They had been together in the back the entire afternoon. Ethel cradled their daughter and stopped at the edge of the room. “Perhaps we should go back in the bedroom,” she murmured to her husband. “We don’t want to intrude.”

  “Absolutely not.” Milly led the family to the center of the long group of tables. “The more the merrier.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “We’re sure.” Cornelius entered the room carrying a platter of sliced turkey, O’Reardon following him. “The good Lord knew what He was doing when He provided us an abundance of food this Christmas.”

  Soon Elijah and Mr. Menough came down the staircase. At last Aunt Louise appeared, not looking at either Milly’s father or Mr. O’Reardon. Instead, she took her traditional place at the opposite end of the table from Milly’s father.

  Then Milly noticed that while everyone sat in a chair, Elijah held back. He’d been quiet that afternoon, sitting by the fire. She moved to stand next to him. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

  “I thought I’d wait until everyone found a seat.”

  “It looks like they have.” Milly saw there were two empty chairs left, right next to each other.

  “Then, after you.” Elijah held his hand out and gestured for her to walk in front of him. When they reached the table, he pulled the chair out for her. She sat down, and he joined her, his elbow touching hers as they sat.

  This was turning out to be one of the best Christmas Eves she’d ever had.

  “Just a moment,” her father said, standing up. “Before we pray, I want to say a word of thanks to our guests tonight.” He smiled, his broad grin warming Milly’s heart. Her father wasn’t normally sentimental. She knew what it took for him to stand up and say those words.

  “Usually for Christmas Eve it’s just me and Milly…and Louise.” He glanced at Aunt Louise, her face pinched as if she were ready for a verbal blow. “And as much as I love my family, it’s nice to have a few extra friends to join our celebration.” He held up a glass filled with eggnog. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Menough, and the Tomlinson family for joining us. O’Reardon, you know you’re always welcome, and from now on you have an open invitation to join us anytime.”