Western Christmas Brides

by Lauri Robinson

  He’d never considered that before. Truth be known, his thoughts were more selfish. The desires Hannah evoked in him were like no others, and not just physically.

  Daydreams had formed lately and had continued to grow every day involving her. He dreamed about her at night, too, dreams that left him aching in the morning. He’d tried not to admit that he was thinking of her along those lines, but he was, and those desires grew each and every time he saw her.

  A gentle tap on his arm had him glancing toward her. Smiling, she gestured for him to stand along with her, and join in the singing of the hymn.

  He did so, and then settled in to listen to Reverend Flaherty, hoping a solid lesson on righteousness would do him good. The reverend’s sermon was about love and kindness and forgiveness, all of which had him reaching over and taking hold of Hannah’s hand.

  * * *

  Hannah couldn’t remember if she’d ever enjoyed a sermon so much. The reverend’s message was full of hope as they embarked upon the Christmas season. In some ways, the holiday season had always seemed miraculous because when her family had descended upon her grandparents’ home for the holidays there had been nothing but kindness and love shared. Pappy had insisted it be that way. That the holidays were a time to rejoice in all the blessings that had been bestowed upon her family, and even her father had obeyed that rule. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the only two days she’d felt as if he’d loved her.

  She may not be with them this year, but she could still honor her grandparents’ traditions. They would like that. Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer of thanks, and rejoiced in how Teddy squeezed her hand. She’d been cherishing the warmth of his hand since he’d taken hold of hers earlier.

  When people started gathering their coats and jackets, Reverend Flaherty said, “I’m going to ask you all to remain seated for a few minutes longer.”

  As a curious stillness filled the church, Abigail whispered, “Will you help me distribute the newspapers?”

  “I’d love to,” Hannah answered, truly honored.

  Teddy stood and stepped aside, making room for her and Abigail to exit the row of pews. Hannah waited and then followed Abigail toward the front of the church where a table had been set up.

  “At this time we’d like for the children to come forward,” Reverend Flaherty said. “Miss White has something to give them.”

  The hushed squeals of delight made Hannah’s heart sing. As her gaze met Teddy’s smiling eyes, she whispered, “Teddy should be helping you, not me.”

  “No, he and I agreed it should be you,” Abigail said. “There are enough papers for each child to get one. Even those with siblings.”

  The children arrived at the table with excitement in their eyes and as the first few returned to their families, the jubilance that filled the church was so great, Hannah knew the heavens were smiling down upon them.

  A short time later, Hannah had to hold her smile back a bit more.

  Mayor Melbourne had made his way to the table and turned about to offer his thoughts to everyone on the newspaper, but Abigail quickly grabbed his arm. “Not today, Josiah,” she said. “Nothing more needs to be said.”

  The mayor was shoved aside as the entire congregation made their way to the front of the church. Besides thanking Abigail and Teddy, and in many cases, her too, several mentioned they’d need an extra copy to mail to family members.

  “The Gazette office will be open first thing in the morning,” Teddy said. “With all the copies you’ll need.”

  He’d placed an arm around her shoulders, and the pride that filled Hannah was like nothing she’d ever known. She shouldn’t put too much into the action, for he had placed the other one around Abigail, but that didn’t diminish how wonderful, truly wonderful, she felt.

  As the crowd dispersed, Fiona insisted Teddy and Abigail come to the house for Sunday dinner, as well as Angus, who was singing the praises of the picture to all who would listen. Hannah noticed the old man’s knee didn’t seem to bother him at all, and the grin Teddy bestowed upon her said he’d read her mind and thought the same thing.

  The exchange increased the joy dancing about inside her and the merriment that continued at the house reminded her so much of holiday gatherings at her grandparents’ house she grew teary-eyed.

  “Hannah, are you all right?” Abigail asked.

  They were drying dishes as Fiona washed. “I’m fine,” Hannah assured her. “Just laughing at that.” She referred to the shouts coming from the front parlor, where the men and boys were holding a boisterous checker-playing championship.

  Abigail, who had changed her hairstyle for the day, making it look similar to how Hannah had drawn it, giggled. “I do believe the Rhett and Wyatt are winning.”

  It wasn’t just her hairstyle that made Abigail look much prettier today. The shine in her eyes as she laughed washed away the sharpness of her features profoundly.

  “I’m sure it’s because they have Angus on their team,” Fiona said.

  They all three laughed because Angus was taking a comfortable after-dinner nap in the chair next to the fireplace.

  Chapter Nine

  That day set a pattern for the days and weeks that followed. It became customary for Teddy and Abigail to join them for Sunday dinner, which was always enjoyable. However, it was the weekdays that Hannah enjoyed the most. Teddy made it a habit to stop by on a daily basis, and often joined them for the evening meal.

  Even though she knew she’d see him the following day, saying goodbye to him grew harder each evening. Watching him walk away reminded her of leaving her grandparents each spring, when the logging camps broke up and she had to move back to her parents’ house. She’d known she’d see them again, but being separated from them had made her heart ache in the worst way.

  Each evening, she sent home a platter of treats for him and Abigail, and tonight was no different.

  “We’ll take those, if you don’t mind wrapping up a second plate,” Fiona said, pointing toward the plate Hannah had just tied a dish towel around.

  Having not paid attention to the activity behind her, Hannah frowned at seeing Fiona, Brett and the boys all wearing their coats.

  “We are going over to visit Maggie and Jackson this evening,” Fiona said. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy the cookies.”

  There were more than enough for her to wrap up a second plate for Teddy. Since her appetite had returned, Hannah had been baking Christmas treats continuously. “Of course,” she answered, handing Fiona the plate. “I wasn’t aware—”

  “Teddy will keep you company so you aren’t home alone,” Fiona said.

  Hannah’s heart skipped a beat, both at the prospect of Teddy remaining longer than usual and at the knowing glint in Fiona’s eyes.

  “I can walk you there if you prefer to go to the Millers’,” Teddy said from where he stood beneath the archway leading to the front parlor.

  “No.” Heat stung her cheeks at how quickly she’d replied. “I—I’d rather stay home, if you don’t mind.”

  Brett mumbled something, but Fiona shoved him out the door before Hannah heard what he’d said, or maybe she hadn’t heard because her heart was thudding so hard her pulse echoed in her ears.

  As Teddy took a step into the kitchen, her heart leaped. So did the baby.

  “Did the baby just kick you?”

  He seemed so intuitive about that. “Yes.” Rubbing her stomach as the movement continued, she said, “Or maybe he or she is jumping rope.”

  Smiling, he asked, “May I?”

  Nodding, she took the hand he held out and placed it on her stomach. He couldn’t possibly know how much she appreciated and enjoyed his interest in her baby.

  They both laughed as the baby moved nonstop for several moments. “See?” she said. “Jumping rope.”

&nb
sp; “Come,” he said, placing his other hand on her back. “I think it’s time you sat down. Give yourself and the baby a moment to relax.”

  He assisted her onto the sofa that was near the blazing fireplace in the parlor. Then he collected the footstool and, upon placing it in front of her, lifted her feet onto it one by one.

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “Very nice, thank you.”

  He then sat down beside her. “This is lovely, isn’t it?”

  Filled with contentment, she said, “Yes. This is what evenings were like with my grandparents. Gran would sit in the rocking chair knitting and Pappy would sit in his chair whittling. They have a collection of birds he’s carved out of wood on their mantel.”

  “And what would you do?”

  Memories made her smile. “Draw or etch. It was evenings like this when Pappy taught me. Probably just to give me something to do while they relaxed.”

  “Did you draw and etch while at your parents’ house, too?”

  “No, my father considered that idleness, something he didn’t approve of.” She’d thought about what Teddy had said, that being born a girl was not her fault. It wasn’t. She didn’t care if her baby was a boy or a girl, she’d love them the same either way. That’s how it should be. That’s how it would be in her life. It was so satisfying to have come to understand certain things lately. Still smiling, she asked, “What about you? What did your family do in the evenings?”

  His eyes sparkled. “We sat in the parlor together every evening. Some nights we’d play checkers or guessing games, but usually my father read to us.”

  “What would he read?”

  “Funny, wild stories about all sorts of things. He was a newspaperman because it was the family business, but he really wanted to write stories. And he did. He printed a few and sold them at the newspaper office. I wish I’d kept a couple of them, but didn’t think of them when I was packing for Abigail and me to leave.”

  “Leave?”

  He nodded. “Cholera wiped out complete blocks of the city we lived in back in Pennsylvania. I was the only one in our family who didn’t get it. Abigail was still sick when we left town, but my mother insisted I take her and leave. My father had already died and Mother passed away before I found someone to help me load up the printing press.”

  “Oh, Teddy, I’m so sorry.” She rested a hand on his knee. “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen. That was ten years ago.”

  “That must have been scary,” she said sincerely.

  “I tried to make it not be for Abigail.”

  She could believe that. “Your father sounds like he was very nice.”

  “He was.” Looking thoughtful for a moment, he added, “He was very loveable.”

  “Mine wasn’t.” She quickly covered her mouth, and said through her fingers, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with telling the truth.”

  “I know there’s not, but I shouldn’t have said it because I’ll never see him again, and I only want to remember the good things.”

  “You don’t know for sure that you won’t see him again.”

  She had to pinch her lips together at the pain that was wriggling its way inside her heart. “I know for sure. He said I’d never be welcome in his home again, and he meant it.”

  Sorrow wasn’t only in his eyes—it was on his face. “He shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

  “Yes, he did.” Although she’d known it for a long time, it still hurt to admit. “His hatred for the Olsons is far stronger than his love for his own family.”

  The arm he put around her was more comforting than a warm cloak and the way he pulled her head onto his shoulder was as consoling as it was reassuring.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m sorry for the hurt you’ve experienced.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said, closing her eyes. “It’s made me see exactly what I don’t want in my life. What I don’t want in my baby’s life.”

  “You’re an awfully strong person,” he whispered. “And a wise one. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

  The baby moved again, and Hannah had to close her eyes at the formation of tears. She would be a wonderful mother because she’d love her baby with all her heart. Yet, at the same time, she wanted that for herself. Someone to love her with all their heart.

  Teddy’s hand joined hers on her stomach, and they both sat quietly as the baby rolled. She lifted her head enough to smile at him. He was the wonderful one. Had been his entire life.

  His other hand cupped her cheek and her breath caught as he slowly leaned forward until his lips gently met hers. The kiss was nothing like the few hidden ones she’d shared with Eric. This was unhurried and purposeful. Teddy’s lips caressed hers with such divine tenderness she leaned forward, wanting more of the same.

  He continued to kiss her, until her entire being was warm and content, as if everything was completely right in the entire world. Then he leaned back and guided her head to once again rest on his shoulder.

  Neither of them said a word. None were needed as they sat there, simply enjoying just being together. Fiona was right. There were different kinds of love. She had loved Eric, but it had been different. Very different from what she felt for Teddy. Both she and Eric had been tired of the discord surrounding their families. His father hadn’t been any nicer to him than hers had been to her. With that in common, they’d bonded, and planned on running away together. His father had told her he’d found Eric’s packed bag. He’d told her father, too. The same day he’d come to the house and blamed her for Eric’s death.

  “Eric never knew about the baby,” she whispered. “He died before I could tell him.”

  Teddy’s arm tightened slightly and it felt as if he softly kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m sure he would have been happy about it.”

  “I believe he would have been,” she said. “And he’d be happy that I left Wisconsin. Got away from our families.” Hannah bit her bottom lip. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she and Eric had never been married, yet the things her father had called her, a wanton, immoral and more, just wouldn’t let her.

  “Are you happy?” Teddy asked. “Because that’s what matters now. You and your baby. If you’re happy, your baby will be, too.”

  She let his question settle and as a peaceful harmony filled her, she said, “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. Then that’s all that matters.”

  “Are you happy here?” she asked.

  “Yes, Oak Grove is a good town. Full of good people.”

  “It is,” she agreed.

  They sat there, with her resting her head upon his shoulder until there was nothing but coals in the fireplace.

  Teddy shifted. “I need to add a log to the fire before it gets too cold in here.”

  She sat up so he could move. “Would you like a cup of coffee and a cookie?”

  He grinned. “Would you?”

  She shrugged and nodded. “I seem to be hungry all the time now.”

  He held out both hands for her to take. “Dr. Graham says that means the baby is growing.”

  Taking his hands, for the assistance in rising was helpful, she asked, “How do you know that?”

  He continued to hold her hands even after she was standing. “You told me he’d said that after your visit the other day.”

  She laughed. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” He then kissed her forehead. “Go get your cookie while I add wood to the fire.”

  “Do you want one?”

  “Sure.”

  “And coffee?” she asked on her way to the kitchen.

  “Sure.”

  She stacked several cookies
on a plate and poured him coffee from the pot on the back burner. Putting everything on a tray, she added a glass of milk for herself.

  “I’ll carry that,” he said, arriving at her side as she was about to lift the tray.

  Knowing he’d protest if she refused, she let him carry the tray. Earlier, when she’d said she was happy, she’d almost told him why. It was because of him. He made her happy.

  He frowned slightly. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  She shook her head and came up with the only excuse she could think of. “Do you remember some of your father’s stories?”

  “Parts of them,” he answered.

  “Will you tell me one? Your favorite one?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to hear it.” She hooked her hand around his elbow. “If it’s your favorite, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Once in the parlor, he set the tray on the table and then helped her sit back down on the couch. Handing her the glass of milk and a cookie, he said, “My favorite was about a boy and his dog.”

  “I like it already.”

  He chuckled. “It might not be as good as I remember, or maybe I should say, I might not remember enough to make it interesting.”

  She patted the couch seat beside her. “It’s already interesting to me.”

  They ate the entire plate of cookies while he told her about the escapades of a boy named Jack and a dog named Buck who got into trouble at every turn. When Brett, Fiona and the boys returned, Hannah was laughing so hard she hadn’t heard the door open.