It Happened At Christmas (Anthology)

by Penny Jordan

  Alice had already slipped her hand through her beau’s arm, and everyone was clamouring to be off, but when Connie told Flora to go without her, her sister was having none of it. ‘I’m not going without you. You know they won’t listen to me if you’re not there,’ she said, indicating her three brothers with a wave of her hand. ‘And anyway, you’d enjoy it. I know you would, Connie. Please come. Oh, say you will.’

  She was about to refuse again, and insist Flora take the boys herself, knowing there would be enough folk around to call her brothers to order if they needed it, when she noticed a horse and trap approaching the farmhouse. She recognized the couple as friends of Luke’s mother. They called fairly often, and always stayed for two or three hours. She didn’t think for a moment Luke would take advantage of their being with his mother to seek her out to discuss what had happened between them earlier, but just in case—just in case—it was probably safer to go with the others.

  ‘All right. I’ll come.’ As Flora darted off happily, Connie glanced up and caught Reuben’s gaze. He smiled at her, his eyes bright under his cap and his good-looking face rosy with cold. She forced herself to smile back, as though the turmoil within wasn’t making her feel sick and heavy with despair. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with Reuben? Everything would have been so straightforward then. She remembered how Luke had commended him and her mouth tightened. Luke had all but offered his congratulations that they were a couple. He clearly didn’t have any objections to her being with someone else. If that was his idea of love…

  Once everyone was ready they started off in a gay laughing crowd, the children pelting snowballs at each other or sucking the icicles they had broken off the water butts and cottage windowsills. Although bitterly cold, it was a dry, feathery cold—the sort that sharpened the lungs and numbed noses but in a pleasant way. They passed bushes still laden with shining scarlet berries, tiny footprints bearing witness to countless birds and tiny creatures making use of the easy food.

  The sky was blue and high, the air fresh and clean, and all nature had transpired to make the day a beautiful one. Furthermore, Connie thought, she and her family had been able to afford new winter boots and coats, and they would be going home to a warm cottage with a banked-down fire waiting for them, along with a well-stocked larder. She ought to be the happiest, most thankful girl in the world and count her blessings, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Perhaps tomorrow. For the present she was having her work cut out pretending everything was the same as normal to Reuben and the rest of the company.

  Once they neared the old quarry they could smell the bonfire even before they saw it, and the winter afternoon was full of laughter and shouting. There were far more people than Connie had expected on the ice, a few with skates, but the vast majority just sliding on the frozen lake and having fun. The man with the brazier had just got the lighted coals glowing nicely, and the smell of roasting potatoes was beginning to waft on the air. All around the glistening sparkle of the snow touched the joyful scene with magic.

  Connie realised she had made a mistake in coming. The mass happiness, the laughter and joy and excitement, only served to highlight how wretched she felt inside. She should have stayed in the cottage and got on with some of the endless darning and mending her brothers provided by way of their clothes and socks, as she’d intended when she left the farmhouse, but it was too late now. She had to make the best of it and go on pretending.

  Never having tried to slide and skate on ice before, she found herself flat on her bottom several times during the next couple of hours. Reuben wasn’t much help either. Quite a lot of the young men and girls, and especially the children, seemed to skim effortlessly to and fro, but she and Reuben slipped and slithered and clutched hold of each other in a tottering and painfully slow progress around the lake.

  Increasingly cold and damp, Connie was glad when the daylight began to give way to a fiery sunset that bathed the mother-of-pearl sky in rivers of red, gold and indigo. Soon the twilight would deepen, and everyone would begin to go home. Already the bonfire was all but out, and old Joseph, having exhausted his supply of potatoes and chestnuts, was packing up.

  When she heard the shouts and screams she didn’t immediately understand what was going on. It was only when Reuben—who had just fallen over for the umpteenth time—struggled to his feet and said, ‘I think the ice has cracked over there, towards the middle,’ that she realised folk were in trouble.

  She frantically began to search the crowd for Flora and her brothers, but such was the level of confusion and panic that she was knocked clean off her feet as men and women, boys and girls fled the frozen lake.

  And the she heard Tommy shouting for her. She knew it was him even before she managed to stand up and scan the scene in front of her. The ice was almost clear of folk now, and what she saw made her blood run cold.

  Tommy and David were being restrained by Reuben’s brother and another man, not far from where a large black hole had opened up in the centre of the lake. There were one or two other people standing a little way behind them. She recognized Flora and Alice, who had their arms round each other and seemed to be crying, but then her eyes followed where everyone was looking. One of Reuben’s friends was stretched out on the ice, holding on to what looked like his coat which he’d obviously flung to the two small figures floundering in the inky black water.

  Ronnie. One of them had to be Ronnie, the way Tommy and David were struggling to reach them.

  Shaking off Reuben as he tried to stop her, Connie stumbled towards the middle of the lake in seconds, reaching Tommy and David just as she heard Reuben’s brother say, ‘The ice is still moving. Get him back or he’ll be in too.’

  She could see Ronnie now, and the other small boy was Alice’s brother, Charlie Todd. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they were holding on to the coat with all their might, but she knew it could only be a matter of moments before the cold numbed their grip and their bodies.

  With no conscious thought but that she couldn’t let her brother die, Connie fell on her stomach and began to inch her way to the young man holding the coat. As she reached him she actually felt the ice creak and move, but she grasped the coat muttering, ‘Get back. You’re too heavy. I’m lighter. Go on, get back, or we’ll all be in.’

  He did as she bid, but she felt him stop and hold fast to her ankles. The solid contact spurred her on. ‘I’m going to pull the coat and both of you out of the water,’ she gasped, but even as she spoke she saw Ronnie’s eyes close. Without thinking about what she was doing she lunged forward and grabbed both boys’ arms, her own feeling as though they were being wrenched out of their sockets. ‘Hang on to me and climb out. Try—please.’

  Charlie seemed to be in a better state than Ronnie, immediately scrabbling with his legs as he worked up her arm like a small wiry monkey, before grasping the neck and shoulder of her coat and hauling himself out of the hole, half strangling her as he did so. She could now hold on to Ronnie with both hands, but her little brother’s eyes were still closed and he was a dead weight. She attempted to pull him out of the water but it was useless. And then, as the ice creaked again, she heard the young man behind her swear before saying, ‘You have to get back. It’s cracking. It’ll go any minute. I know the signs.’

  She didn’t answer him, but desperation gave her a strength she didn’t normally have and she heaved Ronnie’s inert body with all her might so his small torso came clear of the water. Grasping the back of his jacket and his trouser waistband, she heaved again, half dragging, half sliding him past her in order for Reuben’s friend to grab him—which he did. The young man inched backwards with Ronnie, who appeared unconscious, and Connie began to do the same—only to freeze as a startlingly loud crack pierced the air at the same time as the ice seemed to separate beneath her.

  One moment she was lying on the ice. The next she’d tipped headfirst into water that was so cold the shock of it caused her to gasp, and she took in great lungfuls of the freez
ing blackness.

  As the water closed over her head she flailed with her arms and legs, somehow managing to twist and right herself, her head breaking the surface for a moment as she spluttered and coughed. Her fingers clawed uselessly at the edge of the glassy deathtrap even as the weight of her boots and clothes drew her under again, their power like a concrete block attached to her feet.

  She was going to drown.

  As she looked upwards through the greeny black water she kicked again, but the struggle with Ronnie had already tired her, and this time she didn’t rise enough to break the surface and take breath. And then, before she could continue down into the black depths, she felt her hair being torn out by its roots. The next second she was breathing air again through her choking, and as she grabbed at the source of her deliverance she heard Luke’s voice say, ‘Steady, steady, or you’ll drown us both. I’ve got you, Connie, don’t fight me. I won’t let go of you, my love. Trust me.’

  She was being held under her arms now, and as she opened her eyes she saw his face, close to hers. She had stopped struggling, and now she saw Luke was lying on what looked like the long thin trunk of a pine tree, or something similar, and a group of men were holding the other end of it some little distance away on the lake. She couldn’t speak as he slowly, very slowly, started to pull her out of the icy tomb. She was too terrified for one thing, but she was also still coughing and trying to clear her lungs, and she was shivering uncontrollably.

  How long it was before she was clear of the water she didn’t know, but all the time she was frightened the ice would crack again and they would both drown. But then he had his arms tight round her waist, and she was half lying across Luke and the precious trunk of wood as the group of men pulled them further and further away from the ominous black hole.

  After some good few yards he eased himself off the tree and knelt a moment with her in his arms. She felt sick and dizzy and light-headed, and so cold it was unbearable, but the main thing that held her in a grip of paralysing fear was her brother. ‘Ronnie?’ she whispered through blue lips.

  ‘Ronnie’s going to be all right.’ Luke held her to him, so tight she could feel his racing heart pounding against her. ‘Oh, my love, I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost you.’

  She heard the words through a kind of mist, and it was only when she found herself still in his arms, but now covered with coats and next to the glowing embers of the bonfire, Ronnie equally wrapped up in Flora’s arms next to them, that she realised she must have fainted. She looked up at Luke dazedly.

  His eyes were waiting for her. ‘You’ll feel better in a few minutes. It’s the cold,’ he murmured. Weakly she glanced around. Everyone was standing quiet and still. Alice Todd was sitting with Charlie, who was also enveloped in coats, his hands held out to the bonfire. ‘Reuben’s gone to the farm to fetch one of the big hay wagons and some blankets so we can get you all home,’ Luke said quietly. ‘Just lie still and try and get warm. That’s the important thing for now.’

  She glanced up into his dark face. She didn’t want to move. If she could stay in his arms for the rest of her life like this she would be content. The twilight was deep now, the sun all but set, and in a whisper only Luke could hear, she said, ‘How are you here? I mean—’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ He smiled down at her, their breaths mingling and their eyes holding. ‘I came looking for you. I heard some of the children shouting where you were all going before you left, and I thought I’d wait to see you when you returned to the farm. But I became impatient—’ He stopped abruptly, his voice thickening as he said, ‘My stubborn pride could have got you killed.’

  Surprised, she protested weakly, ‘No, you saved me.’

  ‘But I should never have let you leave without saying how I felt. It was just…’ He shook his head. ‘After the way I behaved I wasn’t sure if you would tell me to go to blazes.’

  ‘How could you think that for a minute?’ She couldn’t believe that this man, this hard, strong, taciturn man, could be so unsure and insecure. But maybe it wasn’t surprising after what his wife had put him through.

  ‘After this morning…’ His voice dropped even lower, his eyes travelling the whole surface of her face before he continued huskily, ‘After this morning I knew that come what may I couldn’t let you go. Maybe you ought to have the chance to meet someone else, someone fresh and young with no past, but I don’t want you to. I love you. I love you with all my heart and soul and body. This morning, when I was riding Ebony, I told myself over and over again that I could master this, but I can’t. A part of me doesn’t want to feel this way—’ for a moment his bewilderment at his helplessness was uppermost ‘—but I know now that whether I am with you or without you you’re in my soul, the very air I breathe. And I want to be with you. Hell, how I want to.’

  She listened without moving, barely daring to take a breath. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought to hear such words from him.

  His eyes devoured her again, his smile shaky as he murmured, ‘You consume me to the point of driving me mad, my love. For such a little wisp of a thing you have the power to terrify me. You hold my life in those tiny hands.’

  ‘This feeling frightens me, too.’ She lifted one hand free of the weight of the coats and touched his square jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath her fingers with a little jolt of longing. ‘But I don’t want to feel any other way for the rest of my life.’

  ‘This is not the time or the place—I ought to be on one knee, with a ring in my pocket—but I have to ask now. When I realised it was you out there—’ He stopped, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed hard a few times before he could go on. ‘I died a thousand deaths.’

  ‘Oh, Luke.’ It was the first time she had spoken his name, and the tenderness in her tone was nearly his undoing.

  He closed his eyes, striving to fight the weakness that had him wanting to cry like a woman as he clasped her to him as though he would never let her go. Then he moved her back just a little, looking down into her face that was starting to regain some colour. ‘Will you marry me?’ he asked softly. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you be the mother of my children and grow old with me, loving me and letting me love you all the days of our lives together? Will you let me cherish you and care for you and adore you, my own, sweet, precious love?’

  She smiled mistily, the rest of the world fading away. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A thousand times yes.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE banns had been called at the parish church for three consecutive Sundays, the last one being the day before, and it was now Christmas Eve and Connie’s wedding day. The whole farm was aware of the furore the hasty wedding had caused in some quarters of society, but they could also see the master and the young mistress—as they had already taken to calling Connie—didn’t give a jot.

  ‘And why should they?’ Rose said stoutly to Jacob as they dressed themselves in their Sunday finery, ready to board the two big farm wagons pulled by the shire horses that were going to take everyone to the church. ‘If ever a pair deserve some happiness, they do. And what’s the point in waiting when there’s no good reason for it? Daft, I call it. Don’t you?’

  Jacob nodded. He knew better than to argue, even though he was sure that if it had been anyone but Connie and the master his wife would have been deeply affronted at the flouting of convention. But it was Connie and the master, and he, for one, wished them all the happiness in the world. If ever a man had changed in the last weeks, the master had. Just showed what the love of a good woman could do.

  He glanced across at his wife, his voice soft as he said, ‘You give the lass that garter you made, then? Right pretty that was, love.’

  Rose nodded. ‘For something blue. And she’s wearing the mistress’s wedding dress for something old, and Hannah’s mother-of-pearl hair combs for something borrowed. Hannah can’t do enough for the lass. Well, you can understand it—Connie saving her Charlie, an’ all
. Ee, I bet she’ll look bonny, Jacob.’

  Connie did look bonny. She was sitting in front of the long looking glass in Luke’s mother’s bedroom, and Flora was putting the finishing touches to Connie’s upswept hair before they fixed her delicate veil in place.

  Maggie was ensconced in a big armchair, watching them, a benevolent smile playing about her lips. After a moment she said softly, ‘You look radiant, lass. Radiant. There has never been a more beautiful bride.’

  ‘It’s your dress.’ Connie turned and smiled at the woman she already thought of as a second mother. From the moment they’d arrived back at the farmhouse that fateful evening three weeks ago, and told Luke’s mother their news, Maggie had been beside herself with delight and fully supportive of their not wanting to wait a day longer than was necessary to become man and wife. And she had made sure everyone knew it.

  The wedding dress was indeed a beautiful thing. Made with folds of wonderful antique lace, the bodice covered in tiny seed pearls which were reflected in the edging to the veil, the ivory dress was exquisite and as delicate as spider webs.

  Maggie had offered the dress and veil to her the day after their announcement. ‘I’ve kept it safe since I wed,’ she had said a little tearfully as she had unwrapped the dress and fragile veil from their layers of gossamer-thin paper. ‘I always imagined a daughter of mine wearing it, but the good Lord only granted us one child. I think you know I already feel you’re a daughter, Connie. Your Flora too. I think of your little family as mine.’

  Connie had been utterly enchanted with the dress, and it had only needed the waist nipping in a little. She had flung her arms round Luke’s mother that day, and although they had been close before, a deeper bond had developed since.

  ‘And you, Flora,’ Maggie said now. ‘You’re as bonny a bridesmaid as I’ve yet to see.’

  Flora was wearing a deep scarlet dress trimmed with ivory lace, and Maggie had insisted on buying both the sisters long, luxurious hooded capes in ivory silk and lace, lined with rich scarlet velvet to keep them warm, and tied with scarlet ribbons.