“Thank you Bird, dear!” Mrs. Pierson waved and called as she was transported. “You saved my life! And thank you, dear, dear Sundancer!”
One of the women turned and regarded Sunny. Her look was appraising and appreciative.
That one. She knows me.
She seems to, Sunny. Do you know her?
No. But I want to.
Bird felt a tug on her coat and looked down. One of the little boys had remained with her. He looked up at her shyly and tilted his head. She guessed he was about five years old.
“Hello,” Bird said. “What’s your name?”
“Henry.”
“Hi, Henry. Welcome to Christmas at Saddle Creek.”
Henry looked at the horse. He took off a mitten, then reached up and placed his small hand on Sunny’s nose, right between his nostrils, and held it there.
Sunny stood very still. I like this boy. He’s smart. He’s trying to understand me.
I see that. Can you give him a ride in the sled?
Yes.
“Henry, would you like to sit in the sled, like your great-grandmother did, and go for a ride?” Bird asked.
“Yes!” Henry turned and sped away as fast as he could.
Bird was surprised. I thought he said yes.
Children are interesting. Here he comes again.
Bird saw three little boys hurtling toward them. Now I understand! He brought the others.
He’s a thoughtful boy. But I’m not giving them rides if I don’t like them.
They’re good kids, Sunny.
Hmph. I’ll be the judge. Some small humans are horrible.
It’ll be really bad if we give one a ride and not the others.
That would be their problem, not mine.
The boys stopped running and stared at Sunny. Aside from five-year-old Henry, Bird saw that one was about eight years old, and the other maybe two.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Bird. What’s yours?”
“I’m Luke,” said the oldest. “I learned to ride on a pony named Robyn. My teacher taught me lots of fun things, like trotting around the arena, making words from letters on the wall, and picking up things and putting them down somewhere else.” He was excited and talking fast, but suddenly stopped and looked at Sunny. “Wow. You are beautiful.”
Okay. He passes. I’ll give him a ride.
“What’s his name?” asked Luke.
“Sundancer.”
“Really? You mean the famous jumping horse that goes so high, and nobody can beat him, and he gets all the trophies?”
So, what are we waiting for, Bird? The kid’s a genius.
What about the small one?
Before Sunny could reply, Mrs. Pierson’s two-year-old great-grandson said, “Me Dwakie.” He stretched up his arms to Bird.
Luke said, “His name is Drake. He’s our cousin.”
“Thanks, Luke. Hello, Drake. Do you want up?”
“Yes, pweese!”
Bird bent down and raised him from the ground. Drake’s little body twisted until he was at Sunny’s face. His small mittened hand patted the big horse’s forehead.
“Up!” the boy said, and pointed to Sunny’s back.
May I? asked Bird.
Certainly. This kid is brave, and he knows what he wants.
Okay. Bird placed him on Sunny’s back. She tucked his toes securely under the straps and showed him how to hold the rope between the rings of the surcingle.
Bird was satisfied that the child was safe. Tell me if you want him off.
I don’t. He’s happy up there.
Bird could see that Sunny was right. The little boy was smiling and perfectly content.
“Luke and Henry?” Bird said. “Get in the sled, and we’ll go for a ride. Drake can sit up here, okay?”
The two boys jumped in the sled, and off they went.
A little late, Bird thought about asking their parents if it was okay. If not, she’d have a lot of explaining to do.
She needn’t have worried. As she neared the adults, the horse and sleigh parade got an exuberant round of applause. The parents jumped up from their chairs and took pictures. They made a big fuss over their kids, with shouts of, “This is fantastic!” and, “Isn’t this great!”
Mrs. Pierson called out, “That’s my girl, Bird, dear! What fun!”
Cliff’s son, Seb, ran over with his little boy, who was likely three. “Room for one more?” he asked Bird.
Sunny? Okay with you?
Sunny took a good look at the new child.
“I’m Brent!” said the little boy. “Nice horsey! Please can I come, too?”
He passes. Put him on the sled.
Thanks, Sunny.
Bird answered, “Sure, Seb! Tuck Brent in, and off we go!”
Now there were three boys on the sled and one on the horse.
Still okay, Sunny?
I never thought I’d give pony rides.
You’re good at it.
Don’t expect me to do it again.
You’re such a fake. You’re having fun.
Sunny snorted and nickered. I admit it.
Bird checked that little Drake was still smiling, which he was, then looked back to see the others in the sled. Eight-year-old Luke sat behind his little brother, Henry, and held him with both arms. Little Brent sat wide-eyed in front, held by the little arms of Henry.
“Are you guys okay back there?” she asked.
“Yes!” they answered in unison and nodded their heads enthusiastically. “Let’s go!”
Bird led Sunny around the field. It was the perfect vantage point to witness the ever-changing dynamic of the party.
The great fire burned with a life of its own, flicking serpent tongues of flame up into the air. The stars twinkled above them, and the moon was full, bathing the icy fields around them in a soft white glow. Steam rose from the pond, adding a mystical touch. Bird hoped that someone was taking pictures of all this beauty.
She looked for her father. He was her one concern. Fred had not been sure of his welcome, and neither was she. Then, she spotted him. He was sitting with Mrs. Pierson. Bird relaxed. Mrs. Pierson had a hand on Fred’s sleeve, deep in serious conversation.
Cliff had brought his guitar, and people had gathered to sing Christmas carols. Strains of “Silent Night,” “We Three Kings,” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” drifted across the fields and echoed in the woods, creating a delayed reverberation to the music.
Marshmallows were roasted, and cider was offered. There were coolers filled with beer and wine for the adults, and water and pop for the kids. Hannah had brought out all the leftovers from dinner, and people were making sandwiches on the table that Paul and Cliff had hauled from the garage.
Bird watched as Fred stood and walked up to Eva and Stuart. She held her breath and slowed Sunny’s pace so she could observe. Stuart got to his feet. Both men appeared relaxed. Stuart motioned to the chair beside Eva, and Fred sat down. Bird couldn’t hear the words, but she didn’t need to. Eva seemed at ease. Maybe Alec was right, that this night was a new beginning for her mother. Bird crossed her fingers under her mittens. It sure would make life less complicated if they could all get along.
Bird continued to walk beside her horse, one hand on little Drake’s leg, just in case he decided to squirm. Happy noises and laughter filled the air, and Bird felt a stirring of what she imagined was the Christmas spirit.
Alec walked toward them across the field, carrying a hot cup of cider and a perfectly cooked marshmallow. “I made it just for you,” he said. “I burned about a dozen, so I had to eat them myself.”
“Thanks!” Bird took them from him gratefully. “Will you be upset if I give these to Sunny? I promised, in payment for pulling the sled.”
“
Of course you did. Why didn’t I guess?”
“Seriously.”
“No problem. I’ll go get some more. Be right back!”
If you’d gobbled up my marshmallow and drank my cider …
But I didn’t, did I?
Bird held out her palm with the perfect sugary treat. All the kids watched as Sunny sniffed it and touched it with his lips to check the temperature. They squealed and giggled as he licked it, then picked it up carefully with his teeth. He slowly savoured it. He nodded his head, smacked his lips, then flipped his upper lip over his nostrils and made a loud sniffing noise.
Very nice. I’ll need one more.
First, have some cider.
Bird held the cup in front of him.
“Is he going to actually drink that?” asked Luke.
“Yes. He loves apples, and cider is made of apples.”
“But how can he drink from a cup?” asked Henry, furrowing his brow.
“Just watch.”
The boys scrambled out of the sled and stared with eyes wide as Sunny stuck his tongue into the cup and slurped it up. Bird put the last drops on her hand and let him lick them off.
“Cool!” said Henry.
“I want some, too!” said Brent.
Just then, one of Mrs. Pierson’s sons came striding from the fire to get the children. “Who wants to cook a marshmallow?” he called.
“Me!” yelled Luke, who raced to him. “Can I do it myself, Papu?”
“And me, too, Papu?” Henry copied.
“Me, too, Pa … pu?” mimicked Drake. He enunciated the words carefully, which made everybody laugh.
“Yes to everybody. Yes, yes, yes you can. Everybody can cook their own.”
He gently began to lift Drake down from the back of the horse. Drake’s face clouded, and he held the straps more tightly. Bird thought he was about to resist.
“Drake?” asked his grandfather. “Would you like to see Mommy and Daddy?”
Drake’s face brightened, and he let go of the horse, but threw his body around to pat Sunny on the way down.
“Nice horse!” he said.
See, Bird? messaged Sunny. I told you they were good kids.
“Thanks, Bird,” Mrs. Pierson’s son said. “You created a great memory for these kids. One they’ll never forget.”
Bird said, “It was fun for me, too, and for Sunny.” She patted his neck.
Easy for you to say. I did all the pulling.
Sunny’s job was done, and Bird and her horse began their walk back to the barn.
You made those kids happy tonight, Sunny.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.
You’re a grinch. A nice grinch, but a grinch.
As they went, Bird watched the four small boys and Mrs. Pierson’s tall son as they headed back to the bonfire to join the party, their bodies silhouetted by the flames. A dog came running to join them.
It was Lucky, dashing to greet them with his tail wagging, ears flopping, and tongue lolling. He loved children, and he kept them from straying. Bird smiled. He was a simple dog, but he took his job seriously, even if the adults didn’t know they needed his watchful patrol.
From afar, the celebration looked like a scene from a hundred years ago or more. Under her breath, Bird whispered, “I think I get Christmas.”
8
Vows
Joyful all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies …
After settling Sunny in his stall, and giving one last pat to each of the twenty horses, Bird walked back to the fire. She looked over the fields and noticed that several more cars had joined the vans belonging to Mrs. Pierson’s sons. Trucks and cars and Skidoos were lined up in a row, and people of all ages were heading to the action.
It was starting to look like a fall fair, she thought. There must be more than fifty people, and another car was driving in, followed by a truck. Good thing Sunny was back in the barn. He would’ve gone on strike with all those kids to pull in the sled.
She was shocked by a deep voice beside her. “Hello?”
Bird jumped away.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You scared me out of my wits!”
“I’m so sorry. I’m Tom Francis, the pastor of your grandmother’s church.”
Bird was confused. Jean’s church? Then she took another look at the man. “Tom, the hydro man? Of Bob and Tom?”
“Yes! The hydro man.”
“Who got a scare from the coyote under the covers?”
Tom laughed. “This wasn’t intended as payback. I’m sorry.”
Bird regained her composure as her heart began to beat normally. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“Your grandmother told us to come back if we were free. I hope you don’t mind that we’re taking you up on that, and we brought the families, too. They wanted to come.”
Bird gazed at the gathering crowd. “Your families are very welcome. ‘The more the merrier,’ as Aunt Hannah says! And Mrs. Pierson’s not my grandmother, she’s a really good friend.”
“And a really nice lady.” Tom looked back at the crowd. “Hey, it looks great, with the bonfire and everything, eh?”
“Yeah, it does. Where did all these people come from?”
“I’ve talked to some of them. Mostly neighbours who were driving back from dinner and stopped when they saw the fire. It’s such a nice night, they don’t want to go home. What a change of weather, eh?”
“For sure. Are the hydro lines up and working?”
“Yup. We finished about an hour ago. Just in time to pick up the wife and kids. And Bob’s with us, too. And his mother, Gladys, who’s alone now and loves a party.”
Bird nodded, but she’d stopped listening. An incredibly interesting idea began to percolate in her brain. “Reverend Francis, can we talk?”
Tom was surprised. “Of course.”
Back at the fire, Bird sat down on one of the bales of straw that Cliff had brought over in his truck. Tom Francis had agreed to her plan. Actually he was delighted. He left his wife and kids with Bob and his mother at the fire, and he drove home to get things organized.
Bird hoped that it would turn out the way she imagined.
“Hey, Bird,” called Paul, ladling out cider from the bottom of the pot. “Can you help Hannah get more cider from the house? We’re running out.”
“No problem!” Bird headed to the kitchen.
Hannah was already there. “We’re out of cups and marshmallows, and rum and cider,” she said. “No stores are open, and people keep coming!”
“Why don’t we bring the last of our beer and wine and pop?”
“We’re all out of that, too.”
Bird shrugged. “It’s not like we invited all these people to show up.”
“I know, but I hate to run out of things. The only thing we have is champagne.”
“Champagne?”
“It’s been in the basement for years, waiting for the right occasion.”
“That’s weird, just so you know. Aunt Hannah, let’s go back to the fire. If we’re out of everything, we’re out.”
“Bird, you make perfect sense. And we’re definitely out!”
Fifteen minutes later, Paul stood on a bale of straw and cleared his throat. “Hello, folks!” he said as loudly as he could.
Nobody could hear him, and the noise continued just as loudly as before.
“Hello!” Paul yelled again, with no result.
Bird grabbed the ladle and started banging it as hard as she could on the empty iron pot.
The metal-on-metal racket got people’s attention.
“Thanks, Bird.” Paul began again. “Merry Christmas to you all — family, friends, neighbours. Welcome to Saddle Creek Farm
on this beautiful night. I’m sorry to say, though, that we’ve run out of absolutely everything.”
Immediately, there was a flood of offers. “Why didn’t you say so!” said Rob from next door. “I have a car full of beer!”
Brian said, “I’ll be right back with some wine and chips!”
“I have a case of ginger ale and boxes of Girl Guide cookies!” offered Jirina. “Just across the road!”
“Excuse me!” Mrs. Pierson slowly stood up with the help of one of her sons. “Before you go scurrying away to get things, and how lovely of you all to pitch in, I have something to ask.”
People hushed to listen.
“May I talk, dear?” she asked Paul. “Is that all right?”
“Yes, yes, of course. Whatever you do is all right with me.”
“Thank you, dear.” She cleared her throat. Another son stood to help, and she held on to both men. “This is the first Christmas without my dear Pete, and I miss him more than I can say. You all knew him, and I know you miss him, too. He was thankful for his long and full life, and I feel blessed that I had him in mine for so many years.” Her throat constricted with sentiment, and she needed a moment before she continued.
“Pete’s here with us tonight. I feel his loving and generous spirit. So, surrounded by family and kind people doing kind things, could you raise your eyes to the heavens with me and wish Pete a Merry Christmas?”
Every single person, young and old, looked up at the full moon and the twinkling stars.
As if on cue, a shooting star trailed across the sky.
The audible gasp was spontaneous and emotional. If a person wanted a sign that the universe sometimes listens, that was it.
In the ensuing silence, Tom Francis arrived in his car. He rolled down his window and gave Bird a thumbs-up.
Perfect timing, Bird thought.
Mrs. Pierson raised her hands. “I would not have been here, if not for this dear girl.” She pointed at Bird. “Bird, dear, come up here beside me.” She smiled with twinkling eyes and gestured.
Bird stood up in front of the crowd, embarrassed.
“A tree crashed through my roof last night, and I was injured badly and very cold. This dear, dear girl arrived at my house with her wonderful Sundancer and her magical Cody. They carried me here through that wicked storm. I would’ve died but for her.” Mrs. Pierson hugged Bird close to her chest. “Thank you, dear Bird,” she whispered.
Christmas at Saddle Creek Page 9
