A Cheyenne Christmas

by Caroline Lee

  When the men left for the barn after breakfast, she and her sisters started on the laundry. They unpacked the trunks, and managed to stack them in the loft, putting the clothing and personal items in various chests. Molly moved her things into Ash’s room, blushing all the while. They took a break in the middle of the day for Wendy and Annie to work on their lessons, while Molly started on the rolls for the next morning. With Wendy’s faint droning in the background, Molly couldn’t stop thinking about the hours she’d shared with Ash, and wondering if he’d want to do that every night.

  Now, if only she could convince her husband to love her as much as she was discovering she loved him…

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The days leading up to Christmas quickly settled into a routine, and Ash couldn’t be more pleased. When he’d first hired Molly, and discovered that she’d be bringing her two younger sisters, he dreaded what would happen with three extra bodies crammed into the cabin. But Molly had told him that while their childhood home had been much bigger, the three of them had been sharing an apartment slightly bigger than the loft for the last four years. To them, the cabin, with its separate bedrooms, kitchen, and living areas, seemed very spacious. Hearing that had made Ash proud; he’d worked hard on the house, and although he knew he’d need to expand it in the coming years—he was already planning a bathing chamber off the back—it pleased him to know that his new family members liked it just the way it was.

  Even with the extra mouths, he and Nate were working less. They were able to just focus on the animals, and leave the house chores to the womenfolk. It sure was a treat to come in to a house smelling of cookies and ham, or pull on a soft, clean shirt.

  He was coming to know each girl a little better. Wendy couldn’t cook anywhere near as well as Molly, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy cleaning. It was like she took clutter as a personal affront, and attacked dirt with a vengeance; a useful girl to have around, Ash figured. She was orderly and studious, and seemed to be peering at a book whenever she was free from chores. But she had a sarcastic wit to rival Nate’s, and even made the boy laugh out loud once or twice. When the two of them started on a subject, there were sure to be chuckles all around, especially if Molly was signing for Annie.

  It was hard to say what Annie’s talents were, since she just seemed eager to please, and would do whatever chores Molly set her to. At first, they were hesitant to let her out of the house, especially when that storm that Ash had smelled on the way back from town hit. The snow was brutal, and quickly trapped them on the ranch. It was a good thing they’d gotten that last load of supplies, because it looked like they’d be there until the thaw. The snow that piled deep against the porch and the walls kept them well insulated, and they had to dig out the corral and barn.

  Annie wanted to learn to take care of the chickens, and once Molly determined that wearing both her winter coats should keep her warm enough for short periods, Nate gladly showed her how to feed the birds in the morning and afternoon, and make sure they got as much sun as possible to keep laying. It seemed to make the girl proud to bring in a few eggs every morning and evening.

  None of them realized that the girl wanted to do more, until, a few days after her arrival, she went missing. They were sitting down for dinner when Molly got tired of waiting and climbed the stairs to the loft. She hurried down a few seconds later: “She isn’t here!”

  The cabin wasn’t that big, and it didn’t take the four of them long to determine that she wasn’t anywhere in it or the outhouse. Ash met Molly’s eyes across the room and saw her panic. The snow had stopped, but it was still dangerous outside for any length of time, especially for a little girl like Annie. He and Nate nodded, and grabbed their coats on the way out. A few seconds later, Molly followed, pulling on her coat. She breathlessly explained that Wendy would wait in the house, in case Annie returned.

  Nate split off to check the coops and the water pump, while husband and wife continued towards the barn. Ash wanted to check there before he saddled horses to hunt for the girl in the surrounding drifts. He didn’t think she had much chance of surviving if she’d become disoriented and wandered away from the cleared areas of the ranch, and he knew that every minute counted.

  The horses turned towards them when he pulled open the door and they slipped through. It was a few steps into the barn, though, when he registered an odd noise; a sort of crooning coming from the rear. He exchanged glances with Molly, and they hurried in that direction.

  He had to put up a hand to stop his wife, though, when he reached the far stall. The stallion in there was one they’d name Brute, for his size and temperament. They hadn’t, in good conscious, sold him last year, since he wasn’t completely tame. He tolerated humans and the comfort they offered, but rarely let anyone to ride him. He was the horse that had thrown Ash, when the man underestimated him.

  And there, standing under Brute’s neck, stroking his shoulder and humming atonally to him, was delicate little Annie. Ash just about had a heart attack, before he realized that the horse was tolerating the girl’s presence. Tolerating, hell; he seemed to be enjoying it! When she stopped scratching, he jerked his head and let out a whinny that made her smile and concentrate on his thick winter coat. She looked perfectly at ease with the large animal.

  “How’d she know what to do with him? She spend a lot of time around horses in Chicago?”

  Molly’s whisper matched his, and he could tell how shaken she was. “She’s never been around them before in her life.”

  “Well, now…” A slow smile flickered across Ash’s face, and just like that, he gained a new ranch hand. He and Molly had a long discussion with Annie about how she’d handled Brute, and he asked her if she’d like to spend more time with the horses. The little girl’s face lit right up, and there were tears in her eyes when she emphatically nodded. He could tell that Molly wasn’t keen on the idea, and looked pretty disapproving while she translated; but Ash figured Annie could do some of the small jobs around the barn, the little things Ash and Nate didn’t have the time for. She could get used to the animals, and maybe build Molly’s confidence. If he was lucky, what Annie did today wouldn’t be a fluke, and she could prove to her sister that she could be trusted. Of course, he’d have to watch her for the first few months or so, but he figured Nate could teach her plenty too.

  It took some convincing on his part, and Nate’s excitement at the idea helped, but later that evening he got Molly’s okay on the idea. Starting on the day after Christmas, he’d introduce Annie to the horses and cow, and come up with a few chores the girl could start with. Molly only agreed to let her younger sister out of the house for so long because she was making Annie some mittens and a hat for Christmas, and figured the girl would be about as warm as she could make her. Ash didn’t really care what her reasoning was; as long as the girl wouldn’t get sick, and could be a help, he was glad to teach her a useful skill.

  Yeah, Ash was a pretty content man. He had a well-kept house, hearty and delicious meals, and a ranch with a future. He had his brother standing tall beside him, a wife that he loved, and two lovely young ladies to plan for that future. So how come he felt… strangely unfulfilled? Like there was something he was missing?

  It was the night after they’d discovered Annie’s talent, the night before Christmas Eve, when he realized what the problem was. He loved Molly, more than he’d thought it would be possible to love a woman, but she didn’t love him. At least, she’d given him no indication that she loved him, other than the tender way she cared for him; and hell, she treated Nate that way too.

  In fact, if it weren’t for the amazing way she came alive in his arms every night, he’d think she was still his housekeeper. Of course, if you’d asked him a month ago what a wife was, he would have said ‘a housekeeper you can make love to.’ And hooo-boy did he make love to Molly. He’d never had a woman so fulfilling in bed. She was gentle and wild, insatiable and generous, and if he hadn’t been in love with her before, he would’ve been
lost the moment she climbed in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He’d never imagined a woman could match him so perfectly, and satisfy him so completely. He was content and happy with his new life, and it was all thanks to Molly.

  But it hurt him, someplace deep down in his stomach, to think that she didn’t love him the way he loved her. Of course, Ash knew that no self-respecting man would go around spouting off romantic drivel like that, so it was hard to even admit to himself. But yeah, he loved her, and she didn’t feel the same way in return.

  …Unless, maybe, she did? He groaned and rolled over in bed, pulling the pillow on top of his face so he wouldn’t wake her up. Hell, how did any man knew what was going on inside a woman’s head? Maybe she didn’t even know she loved him. Maybe if he told her his feelings, she’d tell him what she felt, what he wanted to hear?

  But how in the world was he supposed to admit how he felt to her first? He’d always considered himself a brave man, but the idea of confessing his love for her, only to receive disdain—or, oh God, even worse: pity!—in return made his stomach churn with fear.

  He struggled with the dilemma for the rest of the night, and through the next day. Everyone noticed that he wasn’t in a very good mood, and both Nate and Wendy teased him about it. Even their jokes couldn’t bring him out of his bad temper, and they left him be. He could see Molly watching him with concern, but that made it even worse. Maybe she did love him? The only way he was going to know for sure was if he manned up, and told her his feelings.

  He was going to have to, in order to have any hope for the future with the woman he loved. His wife. He was going to have to sit her down and tell her how he felt, and hope that she was willing to love him in return. The not-knowing was cramping his stomach, and once he made the decision to do it, he had to find the right time. He didn’t want to just blurt it out, because then she might not think about it fully before responding. He would have to watch, and wait, for the perfect opportunity.

  For Molly, the twenty-fourth of December was a trial of patience. She was determined to make this Christmas something special, since it’d be their first one all together, and their first real celebration in many years. Nate was nearly as excited as Annie to learn all about the traditions and customs, and she was thrilled to share them. She’d been cooking for days, treats and special concoctions she knew or guessed they would like. The meal she was planning was sure to be a grand one.

  But for some reason, she just couldn’t get into the spirit of things on Christmas Eve. Perhaps it was the fact that Nate hung around the house most of the day, asking questions and interrupting her tasks; although it was hard to fault the boy for his excitement. It was more likely Wendy’s petty disagreements with him. The girl seemed to seek out ways to pick on Nate, which was difficult with someone of such good humor. But whereas Nate was usually good-natured, he seemed to lose all sense around Wendy; she could make him blush and stammer like a schoolboy, and Molly could see how much he hated that reaction.

  Molly finally threw her hands up and banished Nate to the barn and Wendy to the loft for a few hours. She quickly relented, though, when she realized how much more she needed to get done for the evening meal. The younger girl was quiet and moody, and Molly suspected she knew the reason. Wendy liked Nate, perhaps more than she thought she should, and compensated for the confusion she was feeling by teasing and heckling the young man. Molly had no idea how Nate felt about her sister, but knew that Wendy was going to have to come to terms with him, in order for them all to live comfortably.

  Annie, meanwhile, was floating around on top of a cloud, humming atonally to herself, thrilled beyond measure that Molly had given permission for the girl to do chores out in the barn. Her happiness made Molly feel guilty for considering denying the request, but she’d been concerned over the girl’s health. Still, it was hard to deny that Annie had a talent with the horses, and Ash could use more help.

  Ash! Her husband was the real reason she was feeling so out-of-sorts. He’d been grumpy that morning, barely doing more than grunting at her over breakfast. No matter how she tried to engage him, he was drawing further away from her, and had been over the last few days. She was, frankly, devastated at the thought that her husband of a week could be bored with her already. Oh, he still made love to her at night, and there was nothing perfunctory about it. No, in fact, their love-making had taken on a desperate quality, as if he didn’t think he’d ever be satisfied. She sighed, a small smile of contentment on her lips. She didn’t think she’d be satisfied, didn’t think she’d ever get enough of his body, his touch.

  Then she shook herself, frowning at her own daydreaming. He might touch her like a man in love with his wife, but his attitude in the daylight was very different. Why, he didn’t even kiss her this morning, and seemed distracted and tense. In fact, he seemed anxious to get out of the house. Away from her.

  She stewed in her doubts all day, and by the evening meal she was just a bundle of nerves. Ironically, Ash seemed much improved. He was as charming as he’d been before they’d married, and seemed to search out reasons to touch her. His kisses left her flustered, confused, and utterly aroused. She’d spent the day in a huff, and suddenly the reason for it was missing, and she felt deflated and disoriented.

  Ash and Nate kept the conversation lively, though, with Annie chipping in where she was able. They drew Wendy out of her sulk, and before the meal was over, the girl was laughing along with them.

  After the kitchen was cleaned and the evening chores completed, Ash built up the fire in the hearth, and they settled down to admire the tree, the decorations, and the buttery pastries Molly had made for dessert. Annie was sitting on Ash’s lap, Nate was standing with one arm resting on the mantel, and Wendy sat in a kitchen chair that the boy had carried over for her. Molly noticed that her younger sister blushed whenever she looked at Nate, and hoped that the two of them could just sit down and talk about their feelings.

  That’s when it hit her, and she had to close her eyes against the burst of dread. She and Ash were going to have to ‘just sit down and talk about their feelings’. She loved her husband, and he needed to know that. Plenty of women were in marriages where their husbands didn’t love them back, and she was lucky enough to have a man who treated her beautifully, in love or not. Once she told him how she felt, maybe he’d tell her what had caused his bad temper, his avoiding her, and his apparent turn-around.

  “So, how did your family celebrate Christmas Eve?” Ash’s rich baritone pulled her from her thoughts, and she opened her eyes to him engaging Wendy in conversation. The middle sister unconsciously translated for Annie as she spoke.

  “I can remember the delicious food, and then we’d stay up late waiting for St. Nicholas. At least, I would. I think Molly thought it was a little silly.” She gave her older sister a glance, and Molly stuck her tongue out, which caused a chuckle.

  Wendy wasn’t entirely wrong; it wasn’t that Molly wouldn’t have loved to believe in a jolly old elf that traveled the world granting goodwill and presents, it was that she outgrew those sorts of things at a young age. She was eight years older than Wendy, after all, and her young years had been very different from her sisters’, having been raised alone by their mother.

  “What would St. Nicholas do?” Nate’s question surprised them, and Wendy flushed and looked away, as if embarrassed that he wouldn’t know something that had been so integral to her childhood.

  Molly made sure no trace of pity entered her voice when she told him, and signed for Annie, “St. Nick is the spirit of Christmas, symbolizing the goodwill and peace we’re all supposed to feel this time of year. According to legend, he travels around the world on a flying sleigh,” the young man chuckled, and she smiled, “Comes into houses through the chimney, and leaves presents for children.”

  His smile was rueful, the little heart-breaking one that meant he was embarrassed at not knowing something. “I’ve heard of him in town, I just figured he was some kind of religious p
erson.”

  Ash spoke up, “He was, but now he’s for kids.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Nate, that I never shared this kind of stuff with you when you were younger.”

  The younger man shrugged. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

  “Yes there is!” Molly was firm. “We are having a real Christmas this year, and if that means a visit from St. Nicholas, then so be it! In fact, there’s a poem by that same name, and oh, I wish I had a copy of it. I don’t even remember who wrote it, but it’s such a wonderful introduction to the legend, and a lovely poem besides.”

  Suddenly, Wendy jumped up. “I think I have it!” She hitched up her skirts and ran for the loft, back in less than a minute waving a book. “I bought this collection of American poets a year ago.” She sat back down, angled the book towards the fire, and started flipping through it, talking to herself. “Clement Moore wrote it, but he wasn’t proud of it, because it was a children’s poem. He published anonymously, but this collection included it with his work, because—ah! Here it is!”

  She adjusted her glasses on her nose, and Annie slipped off Ash’s lap to stand over her shoulder, to read along. Molly smiled to see Ash settle back with his eyes closed, and Nate lean forward expectantly.

  “’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…” Wendy’s clear voice captured the meter and rhyme of the poem, and they were all swept up in the quaint tale. When she was finished, she shut the book with the satisfied sigh she always let out after reading something she enjoyed.

  The rest of them were quiet for a moment, until Nate cleared his throat. “I liked that. Thank you.”

  She blushed, but looked him in the eyes. “I’m glad. It’s a nice story, and everyone should be able to enjoy Christmas.” He blushed too, and Molly shared a smile with Ash.