They both hung their hats on the hooks by the door as Señor Castillo appeared, gesturing for them to follow. Tripp’s stomach grumbled as they entered the kitchen, a long pine table stretching out before them and pots bubbling on the stove in the corner.
“I hope you like beans, rice and carne asada,” the older man said as he gestured toward the table.
Tripp reached for the plate he was offered by a smiling young woman. Tortillas, beans, rice and spiced meat covered the plate. “Looks like we’re in for a treat, Hank,” he said as he took his first bite. His eyebrows rose and he nodded at their host. “This is delicious. Almost rivals Maria’s.”
Hank and Tripp both looked up as Señor Castillo said, “Nothing can rival Maria’s cooking. Her tortillas were the talk of Sonora at one time.”
They glanced at each other and back to their plates. “You know Maria?” Hank asked, his tortilla paused in mid-air.
“Indeed I do. Or I did, I should say,” he said as he pushed himself up from the table and rubbed the back of his neck. He crossed toward the window and peered out, and Tripp thought sorrow flashed in his eyes before he turned again to the men and smiled. “And I’ve never met a woman like her since. Alas, it was a long time ago. Would you gentlemen prefer to shelter here tonight, or head back out after a short rest?”
Tripp swallowed and said, “If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d prefer to head straight back. We’ll need to shelter tonight anyway, and then we can be back tomorrow by evening. You see, my wife is due to have a baby any time, and I’d like to be there.”
“Very noble of you. If I’d had children, I would feel the same way. We will leave after a short siesta.”
Hank folded his napkin over his empty plate. “We?”
The older gentleman glanced at the opened letter that rested on the table in front of him. “Yes, we. Your father has requested that I join you. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
He stood, gathered up the letter and placed it back in his pocket, nodding at Hank and Tripp before he left the room.
Hank watched until he was out of earshot, then turned to Tripp. “What do you think that’s all about?”
Tripp shook his head. “No idea, but it looks like maybe Maria’s going to get a surprise for Christmas.”
Chapter 9
Sadie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she drew slowly awake from the soft rap on the door of her bedroom in the casita.
“You awake?” her dear friend Clara said as she slowly nudged the door open, two cups of coffee in her hand.
Sadie pulled herself up on her elbows and leaned against the dark wood headboard. If there was sleep to rub from her eyes, she must have actually slept—she’d tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, worrying about Tripp. Now, as the sun gleamed through her window, those thoughts faded, and she turned toward the warmth of her friend, gratefully accepting the coffee she extended.
“Mm, just the way I like it,” she said as Clara sat beside her on the edge of the bed.
“I remember. Coffee that tastes more like ice cream—lots of cream and sugar.” Clara beamed at her, her eyes glistening. “How could I forget after all of those dark and frigid early mornings opening the bakery? I think sometimes coffee is what kept us going.”
Sadie closed her eyes, the steaming liquid warming her throat. “I think you might be right,” she said as she wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “Sure seems like a long time ago.”
Clara stood and crossed over to the window, pulling back the white lace curtains and peering outside. “If you’d have told me a year ago I’d be living in the desert, with cactus dotting the landscape, happy and in love—well, I think I might have said you were crazy.”
Sadie laughed and set her cup on the nightstand, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Slowly, but she made it.
“I’d have said the same to you if you’d told me I’d be here now, about ready to have a baby.”
Clara set her cup down and hurried to Sadie, extending her hand. “Are you sure you want to get up yet? You were on your feet again almost all day yesterday. And the day before, even. I’ve never seen so much food in all my days.”
Yes, they had made a lot of food, but the girls had wanted to have enough for the miners that had nowhere to go for Christmas. Their kindness was noble, and Sadie wanted to do her fair share to contribute. But after her sleepless night and the nagging in her back, she wasn’t sure if Clara’s idea might be better. She certainly didn’t need to hurry. They’d planned to decorate the parlor for the Christmas Eve festivities later in the evening. She might be wiser to rest up for that.
And besides, Tripp should be returning today, if all went well—and she certainly hoped it had.
“I think I might just stay here for a spell, if you don’t mind. Getting up and down isn’t quite that simple for me, and I want to be rested for the party.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Maria said as she swished into the room carrying a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. “You’ve been on your feet too much lately, Sadie.”
Sadie leaned back against the headboard as Clara fluffed the down comforter and tucked it around her. Maria set the delicious-looking breakfast on her lap and tucked a napkin in her nightdress.
Sadie laughed as she reached for the fork Maria held out toward her. “This really isn’t necessary. I’m not an invalid,” she said after her first bite of the delicious meal.
“No, you’re not, but soon enough you’ll have your hands full so you might as well take the opportunity now to rest as much as you can.” Maria sat on the side of the bed and set an extra blanket over Sadie’s feet.
Clara reached for the coffee cups and finished the last sip in hers. “Would you like more coffee, Sadie? I’m going to run to the house and get some.”
“It’s hot on the stove,” Maria said as Sadie ate happily.
“I do think I’d like some, if you don’t mind.”
Sadie finished her breakfast and leaned back, sighing contentedly. Maria took her plate and set it on the vanity, sitting back down on the bed next to Sadie.
Marie reached out and took Sadie’s hand, and its warmth was comforting. It was Christmas Eve, and guests were expected by early afternoon. Maria had to have a million things to do before then, but here she sat, patiently sitting with a woman who couldn’t get out of bed—and was nervous, to boot.
“Are you all right, little one?” Maria asked as she gently rubbed her thumb over the back of Sadie’s hand. “I know you must be nervous.”
“I am,” Sadie said as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the headboard. “I’m not sure I would be quite so much if Tripp was here.”
Maria laughed and slapped her knee. “I’ve attended quite a few births and aside from the doctor, I’ve never seen the husband in the room. If you have the baby before Tripp gets back, we’ll just pretend he’s outside the door,” she joked.
Sadie imagined she must have looked horrified, because Maria’s eyes grew wide and she apologized.
“I’m sorry. I should know better than to joke with a woman about to have her first baby. And truth be told, Katie was just as nervous every time. I suppose you always worry.”
“I can’t help myself, Maria. I know Katie was a fine mother, and I hope I will be, too. It’s only that it seems as though there’s a mountain to climb in between now and when I have the baby in my arms. Just so much time, and I hate waiting.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply. All she could do was wait.
“You mentioned that the other day. As much as I tried to keep Katie’s mind off things all the way to the end, I was usually busy with the other babies—after Hank came, of course.”
“How did she ever get through this? The waiting is torture—and the worry.”
Maria smiled and winked at Sadie. “I’ll tell you how. She decided to write about how she was feeling, how excited she was to meet each baby, and even afterwards, she wrote about what each of them was like. Th
ey were all quite different.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and drew out a small, leather bound book. She held it out to Sadie and nodded.
Sadie reached for it slowly. “Is this her journal?” She ran her hand over the cool leather, wishing she’d met Katie before she passed away.
“Yes, it is. She asked that I show it to each of her children while they waited for their children’s arrival. I think it may help you remain calm. It’ll certainly kill some time for you while you’re waiting.”
Sadie looked from the journal up at Maria’s smiling face. “Are you sure it won’t make me more nervous?”
Maria laughed and reached for the plate. She took the napkin from Sadie and said, “No, I don’t think so. She was very excited about having her babies, and she was a wonderful mother. She was nervous, too, and look how everything turned out. I thought maybe it would help you, too.”
Sadie’s eyes misted at the honor and excitement of getting to know Katie a little better.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she wrapped her hands around the journal and held it to her chest.
“You’re welcome,” Maria said as she turned toward the door. “Clara will be back in a moment, but you two just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen getting ready for the fiesta—and hoping Mr. Archer finds the nativity scene in time.”
Sadie cocked her head as Maria reached for the door. “Maria, can I ask you something?”
Maria stopped and turned. “Of course.”
“You never wanted—well, you never had children of your own?”
Maria looked down at the plate in her hands. “Of course I did. Once, I thought that might be in my future. But it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said quietly, wishing she’d just kept her thoughts to herself.
Maria smiled and brushed her thumb over Sadie’s cheek. “Don’t be. It is how my life was meant to be. Besides, I was able to help the Archers, and it has been a wonderful gift to share this time with them.”
Sadie sat up in bed and spread the book open across her lap as Maria closed the door. She wished she could help with the party, but now that she had Katie’s diary—well, maybe there was something in it that would explain the mysteries of what she was about to embark on: motherhood.
Tombstone, Arizona
“This is the writing of Kathleen Archer, wife of Beauregard Archer of Tombstone, Arizona. My dear husband and I have been married for two years, and we have been blessed to be having a baby any day now.”
The writing on the soft, white paper was beautiful, petite letters scrawled in black ink. Sadie looked around the room quickly—Clara had mentioned that this small casita is where Beau and Katie had first lived when they’d moved closer to Tombstone, before they built the big ranch house for their growing family. The carved headboard could have been the very place she’d had Hank. She turned back to the journal.
“I have looked forward to motherhood for a long time, and the past months have been glorious. As my baby weighs more heavily on my frame each day, it also weighs more heavily on my heart—in a good way. I love it already. I hope that I can be a good mother to him or her. Beau and I wonder in the evenings if we will be having a son or a daughter, and he says he doesn’t mind either way. But don’t all men want a son? I certainly know that I would be honored to raise a daughter. I could teach her to cook, and sew, and be honest, forthright and kind.”
Sadie had had many of the same thoughts, and she and Tripp had held similar conversations. She shook her head at her silly fears. Decades ago, Katie had written what could be Sadie’s thoughts as well, and the awareness of the countless women who had stood in her very shoes overwhelmed her.
“The worry and anxiety have ended. With little trouble and much assistance from Maria, Beau and I have become parents to a handsome boy, Hank Archer. I think my husband was more worried than I was and may have actually paced a track into the floor. I wouldn’t say I worried for nothing—it wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done—but all has been well in the end. Hank is a very happy baby and I anticipate that soon he will be sleeping at night—and that we all can as well.”
Sleep. It was one thing that every new mother she’d ever met said she would have liked more of. Sadie glanced at the clock and stretched, closing the journal and resting it on the nightstand. Her eyes weighed heavily, and her last thought before she fell asleep was of Katie, holding baby Hank in her arms for the first time.
Chapter 10
“I think I’m as big as a house,” Sadie said as she looked at Clara in the mirror. “This dress won’t fit me much longer.”
Clara helped Sadie into her dress and eased it over her hips. “You’re not as big as a house and you won’t be wearing it much longer.” Clara guided Sadie onto the bench by the vanity and took the pins out of her hair. She brushed through slowly, braiding her hair and twisting them up into a bun.
“I feel like I am.” Sadie rested her hand on Clara’s and squeezed. “I wish Tripp was here.”
Clara bent over and rested her cheek on Sadie’s. “Last night would have been the earliest possible time for their return. Hank said that was almost wishful thinking. Everything would have had to go perfectly...”
Sadie stiffened, and Clara’s hand flew to her mouth as she stopped speaking.
“Do you think something’s wrong? Shouldn’t they be back by now, a day later?”
“Oh, Sadie, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just—well, you know things come up when you’re traveling. And neither one of them has herded burros before,” she said before she burst out laughing.
Sadie managed a smile at the image of what that must be like. Still, she wanted her husband home. She hadn’t felt quite right since the morning, and regretted she’d had that second cup of coffee Clara offered. She’d stayed in bed most of the day, reading Katie’s journal, which was quite comforting—more than she’d imagined.
Clara situated a red velvet ribbon around her bun and stood back to look at her handiwork. “You’re the most beautiful imminent mama I’ve ever seen, Sadie,” she said as she brushed at her cheek with the back of her hand.
Sadie caught Clara’s eyes in the mirror and reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “Do you really think everything will be all right?” she whispered.
“Goodness, Sadie,” Clara said as she sat down on the vanity bench beside her oldest friend. “You are one of the strongest, most determined women I’ve ever met, and you’re going to be a fabulous mother.”
Clara stood and reached for Sadie’s hand, pulling her up from the bench. “Hank and Tripp will be here before you know it, and then it will be Christmas. And the baby will arrive in due time and the three of you will be the happiest little family in Tombstone.”
Sadie stood with Clara’s assistance, sighing deeply. “What if there are four of us in the happy family?”
Clara laughed and pulled Sadie toward the door. “Then there are four of you. You and Tripp have plenty of love for that and more,” she said as she opened the door.
Just as they were about to head toward the parlor, Sadie reached back on the nightstand and clutched Katie’s journal, the cool leather soft in her hand. She couldn’t do much to help with the decorating and she hadn’t finished all of Katie’s entries, so this might be a good time to see how Katie—and the Archers—had fared.
“Sadie, you look beautiful,” Saffron said as she rushed to Sadie and pulled her toward the leather wing-backed chair closest to the fireplace.
Sadie did her best not to groan as she plonked down in the chair, Katie’s journal on her lap. She looked up at Saffron, her beautiful hair falling over her shoulders, her identical twin Sage glancing at her out of the corner of her eye from the corner as she tied red bows on the pine tree that sat in the corner.
Earlier, Sadie had read what Katie had written about having the twins, and she dropped her eyes to the journal, warmth washing over her as she remembered how nervous Katie had been when s
he’d realized there were two. She’d be happy now, Sadie thought, to know that Saffron was happily married to Adam, helping with his brothers and sister, and that Sage had found joy apprenticing with the doctor.
“Do you think Papa will invite Mrs. Allen to tomorrow night’s festivities?” Tara asked, glancing around the room at her sisters as she tied another bow.
Silence fell for a moment, and Maria straightened, smoothing her apron over her. “I imagine he will. They’ve spent a great deal of time together lately, and I think your mother would be happy about that.”
“I suppose she would. Everyone deserves a second chance at love, and what Mama and Papa had was so beautiful,” Tara said as she turned back to the tree, her eyes misting.
“Oh, Tara, you’re such a romantic,” Pepper said as she flung her braids back over her shoulder. “I, for one, wish she would keep her distance.”
“Pepper!” Saffron said as she reached into a crate for another bow. “Everyone deserves to be happy, and I believe Mama would want that. For all of us.”
Sadie looked up at the fireplace as the girls fell silent, bustling around and placing candles around the large room. Meg and Rose must be with their husbands, but there was enough activity with just Katie’s twins and the younger girls, Tara and Pepper. Maria lifted herself on her tiptoes to place glass beads along the pine boughs resting on the mantle, re-arranging the red candles and velvet bows several times before she stepped back and nodded.
Sadie’s eyes softened as she watched Maria joyfully glide about the room. There had been many references from Katie in her journal to the love and gratitude she had for the woman who had taken up the Archer family as her own.
As the girls turned the parlor into a beautiful Christmas spectacle, Sadie took the warm mug of cider from Clara and lifted it to her nose. The warm smell of cinnamon calmed her, and she set it to her side on the table as she reached for Katie’s journal. She felt a twinge of sorrow that Katie wasn’t here to join her family.
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