But the next tree proved to be not to Caitlyn's satisfaction, either, after she shook the snow off and studied it. She led Silas from tree to tree, none of them reaching up to her measure.
Silas finally sat down on the sled with a thump. "You go find your tree and I'll wait here, Cat," he said with a huff. "Or maybe you and Jon could bring Little Sun out tomorrow and find one you like."
"I just want it to be special, Silas," Caitlyn said. "Sort of an apology to Jon, too. Please? Oh, look. That one over there. I'm sure it will be perfect."
Silas shoved himself to his feet, but Dog refused to move. He laid his head on his paws and ignored Silas's tug on the rope.
"Don't blame you, critter," Silas said. "This is her last chance. If she don't like this one, we'll haul her back and let Jon bring her out tomorrow."
Dog wagged his tail in the snow, still refusing to rise to his feet.
"This one's the one I want, really it is," Caitlyn called. "Would you please bring the axe and chop it down? Please, Silas?"
Dog glanced over at Caitlyn and finally rose to his feet. Silas could have sworn he heard the animal give a resentful sigh. They both plowed through the snow once more in Caitlyn's direction, and Silas untied the axe from the sled.
After he chopped the tree down, Caitlyn reached for the trunk. "It'll be too heavy a load for Dog to carry the tree, too," she told Silas. "I'll drag it with us."
"Suit yourself," Silas said with a nod. "Get's too heavy, I'll help you with it."
As they walked on toward the cabin, Caitlyn caught herself biting her lower lip to keep from asking Silas more questions about Jon. Curiosity, she kept telling herself.
"Uh...Silas, Jon's brother's raising his own family back on that plantation now, isn't he?"
Since Caitlyn dragged the pine tree behind the sled, through the easier trail, she couldn't see Silas slide another one of his crafty looks down at Dog.
"Yeah, I 'member Jon tellin' me his brother was married now. They got a young'un."
"Do...has Jon ever said if he and his brother look very much alike? I don't suppose they do, what with them having different fathers."
"Never mentioned it," Silas told her. "Happens at times, you know. 'Specially if the boys take after their mama, rather than their daddy."
Caitlyn stumbled on the trail, righting herself with a wrench before Silas noticed. Could she have possibly misjudged the letter's contents — the picture of the little boy who was the image of Jon?
Curiosity killed the cat.
Oh, God, had the dagger-like words she threw at Jon, without first admitting that she had pried into his letter and asking him for an explanation, killed his feelings for her? They had — she knew they had.
He'd kept his distance ever since that day. The pain shadowing his eyes was their love dying. Oh, God, what had she done?
****
Chapter 24
At least she hadn't let her anger keep her from finishing the shirts for Jon and Silas, Caitlyn told herself the next morning after breakfast. She'd completed the design on Jon's shirt during her days at the cabin, and even had enough beads and quills left to make a similar pattern on Silas's and a tiny shirt for Little Sun. She could hardly wait to see the looks on their faces when they saw the three matching shirts the next morning — Christmas Day.
Silas declared a two-day holiday, allowing that the lines would just have to take care of themselves until after Christmas. Truthfully, he and Jon were more trouble than they were worth all day, bumping into her as they tried to help Caitlyn cook and bake.
And each brush of her shoulder against Jon's — each inadvertent touch of their hands when she bent over the cookie dough rolled out on the table to trace an animal pattern with her fingernail so Jon could carve it out — sent a stab of longing and remorse through Caitlyn. More than once her heart caught in her throat, and she found herself on the verge of crying out to Jon to please forgive her — or at least talk to her about it. But Silas and Little Sun, not to be left out of one moment of the preparations, remained inside the entire day.
Of course, they made a trip or two to the outhouse, but Little Sun stubbornly refused to let anyone except Jon accompany him there. The second time Jon walked out the door, with Little Sun's tiny hand clasped in his, Caitlyn stifled a sob of misery after the door closed.
"What's the matter, Cat?" Silas asked in a worried voice. "Don't you have no presents to put under the tree? Heck, Cat, it don't matter. You'll cook us a darn good meal — you always do. That can be your present to us."
"I...I've got presents," Caitlyn said with a sniff. "I've...even got something for Little Sun to give you and Jon. It's just...oh, Silas," she broke off with a wail. "I've made such a mess of things!"
Silas hurried over to take Caitlyn in his arms, patting her unsurely on the back and looking like he desperately wished he'd gone on out to run his lines today. "Aw, Cat, honey. Don't." Dang it, he didn't have any idea what to do with a crying woman in his arms. "Cat. Honey, it'll be all right."
"No, it won't," Caitlyn said with a louder sob. "And don't call me that. I don't ever want anyone to call me honey again!"
"All right. All right, Cat," Silas soothed, understanding dawning in the grin he hid under his beard. "But today's supposed to be a happy day — today and tomorrow. The happiest days of the year."
Caitlyn buried her face on his neck, her shoulders quaking and her tears running in rivulets. Silas pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket, then thought better of it when he remembered it was far from clean. He reached behind Caitlyn to the table and retrieved a linen hand towel.
"Here, Cat," he said, pushing her a little away from him. "Wipe your pretty eyes and hush up for a minute. Will you?"
Caitlyn grabbed the towel and nodded her head. "I'm... I'm sorry. I don't want to spoil things any more, like I have the past few weeks."
Silas led her over to his bunk and sat her down. He took the place beside her and waited for a few seconds, until she wiped her eyes and drew in a steadying breath.
"You know, Cat," he mused. "I been thinking that maybe you been thinking that you spoiled what you and Jon appeared to be having together. That right?"
Caitlyn nodded her head and wiped another stray tear.
"You and Mick ever have a fight?" Silas asked.
"Of course," Caitlyn said. "Not often, but now and then."
"Reckon you made up after them, didn't you?"
"Of course," Caitlyn repeated. "We couldn't have lived together if we hadn't."
"How'd you make up?"
"It depended on who was wrong — Paw or me. Sometimes he...." Caitlyn stared up at Silas, a light dawning in her eyes. "But most of the time, me," she admitted. "I...I heard Paw and Sky Woman talking one day. She said Paw had sort of spoiled me, but Paw said, if so, the spoiling had been with love. Sky Woman agreed with him. We'd had a fight about me going with him to rendezvous of an evening, when Paw really wanted to be by himself. Sky Woman said I'd get over it and tell Paw that I was sorry when I realized that I'd been selfish. That Paw needed some time alone now and then."
"You still haven't told me how you made up," Silas said with a grin that even split his beard. "I don't reckon you did it across a room. Figure you at least got close enough to talk without shouting at each other. Maybe reach out a hand and touch one another. Show each other you were sorry not just in words, but actions, too."
"I've been bumping into Jon all day," Caitlyn said in a forlorn voice. "He just moves away from me."
"Bumpin' ain't the same as touchin' for a reason, Cat. And I'll tell you a secret that other men would consider me a traitor to our race for lettin' you in on. Ain't a man on earth that can stand up against a woman who tells him she's sorry. Who turns those big, soulful eyes on him and admits she might've misjudged him just a little."
He slapped his hands on his knees. "'Course, it takes a little preparation at first a'for she blurts that out. A little touch here and there, showin' him that she's missin' him,
remindin' him just how good he used to feel when he kissed her."
Caitlyn dropped her head and blushed, but Silas reached over and raised her face. "She don't make them sort of apologetic gestures first, why a man just might think she was only leadin' him on again. Seein' if she could wrap him 'round her finger again."
"I wouldn't do that to Jon," Caitlyn whispered. "Silas, I love him. I'm so afraid that I've killed his love for me. I don't blame him, because I've been awful to him. He's...so cold to me now."
"Smart gal like you oughta be able to figure out a way to warm him back up, don't you think? Lessen you got too much pride yourself to admit you might've been wrong. Pride's a pretty cold bed fellow, Cat."
"What if he hates me now?"
"Don't reckon you'll know that lessen you give makin' up a try," Silas told her. "Don't you figure it's at least worth that? Shoot, I always thought you was a fighter. Appears to me you've dumped that gumption I always admired in you somewhere down there under that hurt pride."
"Curiosity killed the cat," Caitlyn said with a smile of gratitude. "And pride's a cold bed fellow. You're pretty smart sometimes, Silas."
The door opened, admitting Jon and Little Sun into the room. Caitlyn tossed Silas a determined look and rose from the bunk. She caught Jon's buffalo robe as he shrugged it from his shoulders and pushed his hand away with a tender caress when he tried to reach for it.
"I'll hang it up for you, Jon," she said in a soft, breathless voice. "I left a few of the cookies on the table for you and Little Sun to eat. We've got enough to decorate the tree this evening."
"Thanks," Jon muttered, quickly turning away from her to help Little Sun take off his wolfskin coat. When he stood to hang it on the hook beside his robe, he found Caitlyn still standing near — too near.
"Why are your eyes so red?" he asked before he could stop himself, Little Sun's coat dangling from one hand. "Have you been crying?"
"Oh, I was just remembering some things," Caitlyn admitted with a small shrug. "It's been...a lot of things have happened this past year or so."
"I imagine you miss your father around this time of year," Jon said quietly.
"I've been missing a lot of things here lately," Caitlyn told him. "Some things that I didn't have any control over losing from my life. Other things that I was foolish enough to throw away all on my own."
Jon snorted in disbelief, but Caitlyn grabbed his hand after he hung up Little Son's coat and started to turn away.
"Hey, don't forget those cookies." She tugged him toward the table, grateful that Jon didn't jerk his hand free, since he was definitely strong enough to do that with little effort. She pushed him into a chair, then lifted Little Sun into the chair beside him.
"Cookies," she said as she handed one to Little Sun, who clapped his hands together before he reached for it. She picked up another one and handed it to Jon, staring down at her palm after he took it, carefully grasping the end farthest from her fingers. Seemingly unconscious of Jon's intent gaze, she touched her tongue to one crumb after the other until she cleaned her hand.
"Ummmm," she said with a nod. "I still like sugar cookies the best. Or at least, I think I do. Molasses cookies just might take over being my favorite. Oh, Silas, do you want a cookie?"
"Surely do," Silas said as he came over to the table. "Say, Cat, what you planning for dinner tomorrow? You ain't never cooked nothin' we ain't liked, but that there meal you fixed us for Thanksgiving's gonna be hard to top."
"Well," Caitlyn mused as she propped her chin on her hand. "There's one smoked turkey left from those you and Jon shot this fall. A duck or two, I think." She licked the tip of her finger and picked up a few more crumbs from the cookie tray, carrying them to her mouth and sliding them onto her tongue.
"We had turkey for Thanksgiving, though, and I fixed a duck last week. I know. Goose. Christmas goose, like we read about in that book. Is there a goose left, Silas?"
"Three of them," Silas said. "You gonna fix that chestnut stuffing like you did in the turkey?"
"If you want," Caitlyn said. "What other side dishes would you both like?" She glanced at Jon, who still held his cookie uneaten in his hand.
"If you've got any berries left," Jon said at last when he realized it would be rude to let the silence linger any longer, "I sort of liked that blackberry cobbler we had before."
"I'll fix that for you, Jon," Caitlyn promised. "What about you, Little Sun? What do you want to eat tomorrow?"
"Noo'les," Little Sun replied with a bob of head as he reached for another cookie. "Cat, noo'les. Good!"
"Noodles it is," Caitlyn said with a laugh, tossing Jon a teasing grin. "Do you like my noodles, Jon?"
"Whatever you cook is always delicious, Caitlyn," he replied. One of those damned cookie crumbs clung to the side of her lip, and he clamped his teeth firmly over his tongue before it could escape his mouth. "We better finish decorating the tree."
He shoved his chair back, and Caitlyn and Silas both rose. Stuffing a last bite of cookie into his mouth, Little Sun scrambled down and followed them as they all approached the tree. Caitlyn drew Jon's attention when she tapped a finger against her lips and cocked her head from side to side. Her braid bounced from her shoulder and brushed Jon's arm, and he moved a slight step away.
"You know," Caitlyn mused, not seeming to notice that Jon had put some distance between them, "I made an angel one Christmas. Paw and I fixed a paste out of flour and water, then tore up little bits of paper and mixed them up with the paste to form an angel. But that darn bear cub got hold of that when he tore up the cabin."
"Angel," Little Sun said with a chortle. He grabbed Jon's hand and tugged him toward his bunk. "Angel!"
"Look, son," Jon said in a reluctant voice. "That was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to put the angel on the tree after everyone went to sleep tonight."
Little Sun dropped to the floor and reached under Jon's bunk. He pulled out a small box and began unwrapping the brown paper from the figures inside. Finally he held up the figure of an angel.
"Angel," he said with satisfaction. He got to his feet and carried his prize over to Caitlyn. Changing his mind at the last second, he turned and held it out to Silas.
"Angel. Cat, angel."
"Why, so it is, Little Sun," Silas agreed. He turned the figure over in his fingers, then studied the face again. "It looks just like Cat, doesn't it? You sure do carve a good likeness, boyo."
Caitlyn reached for the figure and ran her fingers over the face. "Oh," she murmured with a blush. "This isn't me. It's much too pretty."
"Cat," Little Sun said with determination. "Angel Cat."
Jon grabbed the box and set it on his bunk. "There's some figures for a creche in here. I thought we'd put it under the tree, along with the presents."
Caitlyn reached the bunk first, and sat down beside Jon as he removed the brown paper from the remaining figures. She took each one from him, ohing and awing her admiration.
"They're beautiful, Jon. You must have spent hours carving these."
"Not that many," Jon muttered as he jerked his arm away when her breast brushed it. He stood up and strode to the door. "I'll get some dried hay from the stable to arrange around the creche," he said as he shrugged again into his robe. "You and Silas can look at the figures and see how you want to arrange them."
"Jon," Caitlyn called before he could shut the door. When he looked back at her, she asked, "Do you think we might have a fire on the lake this evening and skate for a while? The wind always dies down in the evening, and it won't be that cold."
Jon nodded curtly in reply, then disappeared out the door. Caitlyn glanced at Silas, and he gave her a grin of satisfaction.
"Don't rush it, Cat," he said. "Took more than a day for those walls to build up a'tween you two. Might even take as long as two days to tear them down."
"Oh, Silas, I feel like I'm playing games with him. And I'm not at all sure that this is one game that I'll win."
"Game brought
you two together," Silas reminded her. "Game just might keep you that way."
"I'll try," she murmured. "With everything I have."
Jon knocked on the door and called through it without opening it, "The hay's outside here. I'm going down to brush the snow off the ice on the lake."
Caitlyn hurried over to open the door. "We can't decorate the tree until you get back, Jon," she reminded him before he was more than a few steps away. "We should all do it together."
Jon hesitated, then strode on. "I'll be back in a while."
As soon as he heard the door close behind him, he whirled and stared at the cabin. "What the hell's this all about, Caitlyn?" he muttered. "For weeks you've been just as happy as me to act like we'll catch a pox from each other if we get too close. Now you're practically crawling all over me."
He glared at the cabin, his fists clenched at his sides. "I guess this is just another one of your little personality turns that Silas warned me about. Well, it's not going to work on me. Not this time."
After he cleaned the ice with a broom he had made from some more of the dried hay and prepared a fire to light, Jon returned to the cabin. Silas and Caitlyn had arranged the creche under the tree, and it didn't take long to hang the decorations in place. Little Sun took care of that, hanging cookies willy-nilly on the branches, with Caitlyn surreptitiously moving them to a better position while Jon occupied Little Sun with placing a new cookie. She grinned and winked at Jon each time she successfully rehung a cookie without Little Sun catching her, and each look thudded into Jon's heart like a pole axe.
Caitlyn dished up a stew for supper, then went around blowing out lanterns and candles before she sat at the table with them. She left one candle burning on the table and a lantern on the beam above the tree. The light twinkled on the sugar-dotted cookies, shimmering them in sparkling beams of brilliance.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Caitlyn said in a voice tinged with wonder. "Each year I almost forget how pretty it is."
Mountain Magic Page 25
