by Erica Vetsch
Her hands came up and cupped his beard. “Oscar, I do love you. It was breaking my heart to think of leaving you and Liesl.”
Then his lips were on hers, gentle and sweet. Not a public, awkward kiss under the mistletoe, but a kiss of shared love, of an entwined future, a kiss of promise.
Joey snuffled and squirmed, letting out a squeak, and Oscar sat back, a rueful smile on his face. “And so it begins.” He laid the baby in his arms again. “Don’t you know you’re horning in on something pretty special here, young man?”
“What will Liesl think?” Kate asked.
“That her daddy is a very smart man,” Oscar boasted. “Now, little mama, you need to get some rest. You’ve had a hard day. And tomorrow...actually, later today, we’ll have a lot to talk about and settle. But for now, you need to sleep.”
“I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t want to miss a minute of this.” But waves of tiredness washed over her, and her eyelids grew heavy.
“Don’t worry. Joey and I will be right here getting acquainted.” He reached over and turned the lamp wick down to barely a flicker and settled back in the rocker.
Kate eased down in the bed, turning carefully to her side so she could watch them, drinking in the sight of the man she loved holding her son.
“Oscar?” she whispered.
“Yes?” He looked up.
“Merry Christmas.”
* * *
Kate eased herself out of the bed and donned her dressing gown. “You take the baby, and I’ll follow behind.”
“I think you should stay in bed.” Oscar frowned. He still looked rumpled and short of sleep, probably because he’d spent the remainder of the night in the rocking chair watching over her and Joey, stepping out only when Joey demanded to be fed. Inge had come across the hall to check on them, but the baby had no trouble getting the hang of eating. The minute he was done, Oscar had been back to hold him while she slept.
“I wouldn’t miss Christmas morning with our family for the world.” It felt so wonderful to say that. “Is Liesl still sleeping?”
“No, she’s waiting downstairs. With Inge and Martin.” Oscar took her elbow with one hand, holding Joey with the other. “I’ll go first down the stairs, and you keep your hand on my shoulder.”
“Just like old times. You do realize that very soon I will be able to go up and down stairs all by myself.” She squeezed his arm. “Do Martin and Inge know? Does Liesl?”
“No, I thought we’d tell them together.” He stepped down onto the first stair. “Easy, now, and go slowly.”
They reached the kitchen, and Liesl ran to her, braid’s flying. “Miss Kate!”
“Easy,” Oscar cautioned. “Hug her gently.”
Kate embraced Liesl. “Merry Christmas, sweetling.”
“Can I see him?”
“Absolutely. How about if we go into the parlor and you can hold him?” The pocket doors to the parlor were completely closed, something she hadn’t seen before.
“What’s going on here?”
“Christmas surprises. Martin and Inge and I have been very busy this morning.” Oscar grinned. “Breakfast first?”
“I’m famished, but I don’t know if I could stand the suspense.” Kate inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. “Perhaps we could have a quick snack and then a full breakfast later?”
Inge sliced hot, fresh Zopf, spreading it with thick, creamy butter. “This will tide you over, but you need to eat well. You have Joey to think about now.”
Liesl tugged on her father’s arm. “I can’t see.”
He crouched and folded back the edge of the blanket. Liesl’s lips formed an “O” and she touched the soft little fist beside Joey’s cheek.
“This is Joey. He’s as perfect as a shiny new nickel, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “Is he sleeping? Why doesn’t he open his eyes?”
“Babies sleep a lot, and he’s tuckered out. Being born is hard work for a baby.” Oscar straightened.
“It’s no picnic for the mama, either.” Kate laughed. At Oscar’s concerned frown, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He sent her a look that made her feel all glowing and warm. For the moment, they had a secret, and she was content to keep it to herself, but soon, they would share it and hopefully everyone would be happy.
Liesl could hardly be persuaded to leave Joey’s side to eat her breakfast.
“He’ll be here when you’re done,” Oscar promised.
Liesl ate quickly, and when she was finished, she came back to gaze at Joey. She didn’t seem at all jealous that her father was holding him. “He’s beautiful.”
“That he is. And born on Christmas Day, too.”
“Oh, yes.” Liesl left Joey long enough to push her chair up to the sideboard. With great formality, she placed the last wood block in the center of the pieces. “Now the Baby Jesus is here. Because it is Christmas.”
“That it is, Poppet.” Oscar handed Joey to Kate and picked his daughter up, kissing her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas. Are you ready for your surprises?”
“Yes!”
Oscar slid open the pocket doors, and Liesl let out a squeal. “Oh, Daddy. Look!” She pointed. A small evergreen tree stood in the corner of the room, festooned with paper chains and popcorn strings.
“When did you do all this?” Kate asked.
“Martin and Inge were up very early today. We put the finishing touches on things when you were feeding Joey.” Oscar nodded to Grossvater and Grossmutter. “I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”
The Advent window still wore its swags of pine branches, and the room smelled wonderfully of forest. A fire crackled in the fireplace. And a blue cloth covered something on the mantel, but when Kate raised her eyebrows to Oscar, he shook his head. “Patience.”
They all sat, and Kate helped Liesl hold the baby. Oscar reached for his Bible and spread it on his knees. “We’ll start with the Christmas story.” And with a strong, steady voice, he read from Luke 2. When he was finished, Martin led them in a prayer of thanksgiving.
“Liesl,” Oscar said. “You wait here, while we go get your present, all right?” He and Martin went out of the room. Kate took Joey back from Liesl.
Martin and Oscar came into the parlor carrying the dollhouse between them.
Liesl’s eyes grew round, and she breathed, “Oh, Daddy.”
The men set the dollhouse on the floor, and she went down on her knees beside it.
“Merry Christmas, Liesl.” Oscar came to sit beside Kate, and he put his arm around her shoulders. She glanced up at him, but no one was looking at them. Martin and Inge were watching Liesl, and the little girl was totally engrossed with her present. She lifted each piece of furniture, turning it in her hands before placing it back exactly where she had gotten it.
“Look, it’s me.” She touched the girl doll. “And Daddy.” Easily recognizable by his beard. “And Rolf!” Snatching up the carved dog, she held it up. “It looks just like him.”
Kate leaned into Oscar’s side. “All that work was worth it.” She’d marveled at his ability to carve such an accurate representation of the Bernese mountain dog, but when he’d painted it in black, white and brown, it had almost sprung to life. Every piece of the dollhouse had been fashioned with love, and the reward was seeing Liesl’s happiness and wonder.
“And here’s Kate, and baby Joey, and Grossmutter, and Grossvater.” Liesl lifted each little doll from the kitchen chairs.
Inge had a small apron she had made for Liesl, who insisted on putting it on right away over her pinafore. Inge had also used some leftover white fabric to make a set of handkerchiefs for Oscar. She’d hemmed the squares with a red, blanket stitch and embroidered his initials in one corner.
“To say thank you
for your hospitality. It is not enough, but we do thank you.”
“And this is for you, my dear.” Martin handed a small package to Inge. “Oscar helped me make it.”
Inge squeezed his hand and unwrapped the brown paper. “Martin.” Her lips trembled, and she hugged the Tirggel mold. “It is my home in the Emmental.”
The old couple embraced, and she kissed his lined cheek. “Thank you, Martin. And thank you, Oscar. You have blessed us so much.”
“And now for your gift, Kate. I hope you like it.” Oscar went to the mantel and carefully raised the blue cloth.
“Oh, Kate, look.” Inge gasped.
Kate let out a slow breath, and stood carefully. “Oh, my.” She swallowed, turning to look up at Oscar. “But how? When?”
He shrugged, taking her hand. “I finished up my Christmas orders a while ago. Every night when I went into the workshop, I was carving on these. Martin helped with the sanding and letting me know what pieces to make.”
She passed Joey to Inge and went back to the fireplace. Arrayed along the mantel were piece after carved piece of a Nativity set. Camels, donkeys, sheep, magi and shepherds. A star hung from the top of the crèche over Mary and Joseph and the Baby Jesus.
“Do you like it?” Oscar asked from behind her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.
“Like it?” She spun and put her arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful.” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she buried her face in his chest. He rested his chin on her hair and stroked her back. When she stopped crying, he gave her one of his new handkerchiefs.
“You might as well break it in,” he teased. “Now, how about if we give Inge and Martin our Christmas gift? And Liesl, too?”
She nodded, wiping at her tears, and he moved to her side, putting his arm around her waist.
“Liesl, Martin, Inge.” He looked down at Kate, sending a thrill through her at the warmth in his eyes. “Kate has agreed to marry me. Soon.”
A trickle of anxiety rippled through Kate. What would Martin and Inge say? After all, it had been less than a year since their grandson, her husband, had died.
“This means that you can stay here.” Oscar gestured toward Martin and Inge. “There’s no need to go to Cincinnati. You can use the rest of the money you made from selling the cheeses to pay the loan on the farm, and I’d like to chip in the balance to pay off the note entirely. You can continue to live here with us, and we’ll run the two farms together if that’s what you want.”
A spark of hope lit Martin’s expression, but doubt hesitated there, too. “Kate, is this what you want? Are you sure? We don’t want you doing this because you feel you need to.”
Inge nodded, lightly rocking Joey. “You must not think you have to do this.”
“Oh, you dear people. Of course I want this.” She leaned into Oscar’s side. “I love Oscar, and he loves me, too.”
Liesl stood up from the dollhouse. “Does this mean we get to keep you?”
Kate held out her hand, and Liesl came to her, looking up. “Would you like that? For Grossvater and Grossmutter and Joey and me to stay here for always?”
“Yes! But, Daddy, I thought you said I couldn’t have my Christmas wish. That Jesus had to say no.”
Oscar leaned down and picked her up. “I thought you wanted a baby for Christmas.”
She shook her head. “I did, but you said I couldn’t have one, so I changed my wish.” She nodded, serious. “I prayed every night.”
“And what did you pray for?” he asked.
“I prayed for a family for Christmas.”
He hugged her tight, reaching out and drawing Kate into the embrace.
She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled into Liesl’s eyes. “You know what? I wished for the very same thing. Merry Christmas, sweetling.”
* * * * *
If you liked this story,
pick up these other heartwarming books
from Erica Vetsch:
HIS PRAIRIE SWEETHEART
THE BOUNTY HUNTER’S BABY
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Dear Reader,
I love Christmas, don’t you? I especially love Christmas traditions, those special things we do once a year, those things we anticipate all year long. For the Vetsch family it is making peanut brittle, watching the 1951 Alastair Sim version of Scrooge, waffles on Christmas Day and reading the Christmas story from Luke 2 before we open gifts.
In A Child’s Christmas Wish, the Christmas activities center around Swiss traditions—especially dear to me, as my husband’s family is Swiss. In Switzerland, Advent calendars are a big part of the festivities. Parents desire to instill both patience and anticipation in their children through the countdown to Christmas Day. I love this practice, because isn’t anticipation of Christmas a huge part of the holiday season?
I hope you enjoy A Child’s Christmas Wish, and that you will celebrate this season with a few traditions of your own!
Merry Christmas!
Erica Vetsch
Keep reading for an excerpt from A LAWMAN FOR CHRISTMAS by Karen Kirst.
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A Lawman for Christmas
by Karen Kirst
Chapter One
Gatlinburg, Tennessee
December 1887
Isabel Flores was face-to-face with a bank robber, and all she could think about were the disappointed children across Gatlinburg who’d receive no gifts and no Christmas goose—because this man had helped himself to others’ hard-earned cash.
“You can’t take that.” Her hand tightening on the basket of merchandise she’d just purchased, she pointed to the bulging burlap sack tossed over his shoulder like Kris Kringle. “The Christmas season is upon us. Do you know how many families have scraped and saved the entire year in order to provide a happy holiday for their children?”
The black neckerchief the assailant used to mask his features had slipped below his chin, allowing her a clear view of his weathered face. His shaggy brows slammed down, and his mouth twisted in a scowl.
“Wrong place, wrong time, missy. Bawling brats missing their candy canes is the last thing you should be worried about.” In two strides, he was before her, his fingers digging into her arm. “I’m not read
y for my likeness to be plastered across Tennessee.”
Her foolish behavior belatedly registered. Instead of confronting the criminal, she should’ve bolted. Should’ve screamed. Main Street was steps away from this darkened alley behind the bank. Most people were in their homes at this hour, enjoying a hot meal. There was a good chance someone was still at the livery, however.
She drew breath into her lungs.
He jerked her against him and clapped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t do it,” he growled as he tugged the mask back into place. The stench of unwashed hair invaded her nostrils. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
Various scenarios pulsed through her mind, none of them good.
The distant click of a gun hammer echoed off the buildings, indicating a third person had joined them. Isabel found herself whirled about and locked against the thief’s body. Her basket hit the ground with a thud, bright, fragrant oranges scattering in the dirt. Beneath the callused hand over her lips, she grimaced. The fruit hadn’t been cheap.
“I’d welcome you to town,” the newcomer drawled, “but you’ve already made yourself at home, I see.”
Even without the fat moon’s light washing over the alley, Isabel would’ve known the identity of her would-be rescuer. The deep, velvet voice resonated with lazy confidence. He was hatless, his dark red hair falling into his eyes, giving him a boyish air that didn’t mesh with the grim determination etched on his handsome features.
Please, God, don’t let Deputy Ben MacGregor’s face be the last one I see.
He shifted, causing his coat lapels to fall open. The metal star pinned to his vest announced his occupation.
“I don’t need a welcome from no lawman,” the thief snarled. “I come and go as I please.”
Cold metal pressed into her temple. Fear encased her, numbing her more than the winter temperatures stinging her cheeks. She made a low moan deep in her throat. Ben’s gaze sharpened on her.
Why did it have to be him standing there? Why couldn’t it have been the sheriff instead?
“Not with our citizens’ hard-earned money, you don’t. And certainly not with our women.” His gun was as steady as his voice. “Release the lady, and then we’ll discuss the bounty you’re aiming to make off with.”
