A Texas Legacy Christmas

by DiAnn Mills

  “Less than a month before Thanksgiving and Christmas to follow. What grand holidays we will have.” Dad lifted Charlie from Zack’s arms. “We do want you to live with us, but we respect your decision.”

  “Thanks, Dad. This is best, and it shouldn’t take too long for me to find a proper house. How about dinner at the boardinghouse after we’ve checked in?”

  Mama’s small shoulders lifted and fell. “I planned to have your favorite chicken and dumplings and apple-cinnamon pie.”

  “That’s tempting, but then you’d have to bring us back into town, and the twins are really tired.”

  “Will you come tomorrow and spend the day? We can have your favorite dinner then.”

  “Sounds good. The twins have never seen a ranch, and I think they’ll love it. But I want to visit the newspaper first.”

  “I’ll show you all the animals,” Stuart said to Curly. He puffed up, striking a pose that mirrored his dad at the pulpit.

  “It’s a shame they weren’t here for church yesterday. I’d love to have shown them off.” Mama tilted her head.

  Zack didn’t want to think about the twins’ behavior in church. “There will be other Sundays.”

  After he retrieved his trunk and paid a lad to take it to the boardinghouse, the small band made their way down the street. By this time Charlie had awakened and begged Zack to hold her.

  “I’m sure you will be a fine father,” Mama said. “You’ll have matters in hand in no time at all.”

  Zack had his doubts.

  His dad opened the door of the boardinghouse. The tantalizing aroma of roast beef and potatoes met Zack’s nose. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and the twins undoubtedly felt the same.

  “This sure smells better than food at the orphanage,” Curly said.

  “You poor baby.” Mama sniffed. “I will make sure you have plenty of good meals.”

  Zack chuckled then took a fleeting glance at the young woman behind the registration desk. He started. Chloe Weaver? He hadn’t seen her in years, but he recognized those huge brown eyes and long thick lashes. Here she was all grown up and quite a beauty.

  “Good evening.” Her voice rang sweet, reminding him of candy.

  “Chloe Weaver, right?” Zack’s voice cracked like a twelve-year-old.

  She nodded. “How good of you to remember me after all this time. We received your wire, and I have your room ready.” She smiled. “Your children are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  Here came the questions. “I’m not married.”

  A glint of something that resembled curiosity and disapproval rested in her eyes. And because he didn’t understand her reaction, frustration settled in him. Zack had no intention of explaining why he was now responsible for a set of six-year-old twins. Had he set himself up to be judged and hung because he’d chosen a family without a wife?

  “Would you like to see your room? Dinner is awaiting you too.”

  “Thanks. We’re pretty hungry.” His glance moved from one child to the other. “How about we see our room and then eat?”

  “Yes, sir,” the two chorused.

  Ah, the lessons on manners were working.

  The room was slightly larger than his New York apartment and definitely warmer. A raised window let in a soft breeze that gently blew back the curtains. Instantly, the twins were pointing out the sights of Kahlerville from the open window.

  “How many newspapers in this town?” Curly said.

  “Only one.” Zack had a good idea of what he was thinking. “Neither of you will be working as newsboys here.”

  “How are we going to live?” Charlie said.

  “Let me worry about that.” Zack saw his mother exchange a confused look with Dad. “The twins lived a hard life in New York.”

  “I can see that.” Dad made his way to the window and placed a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders. “Do you two like to fish?”

  “Don’t know,” Curly said. “Never done it.”

  “Well, I’ll have to introduce you two to the art of fishing. Zack, Stuart, and I spent some fine days on the creek bank.”

  “I can show you how.” Stuart stepped over beside them, and Lydia Anne joined them. Zack realized that Lydia Anne was a young lady—her blonde hair and blue eyes would turn heads. Stuart was sprouting up like a weed, and he had Dad’s dark eyes and hair. Would Curly and Charlie grow up this fast?

  Zack realized Mama would have many questions. She probably thought he should have a wife before children. Most of the time since his trip to Saint Vincent de Paul Orphanage, he would agree. But a wife would only add another burden, as his relationship with Miss Elizabeth Hanington had already proven. “It will be all right, Mama.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

  She touched her gloved finger to the tip of her nose and leaned onto his shoulder. “I know, but this road won’t be easy.”

  He didn’t need his mama to remind him.

  Chapter 5

  Chloe turned from one side of the bed to the other, then onto her back in a frustrating effort to sleep, but Zack Kahler’s appearance consumed her mind. She still thought of him as the boy who supplied her with food every day. Why was she allowing him to dwell in her thoughts? Could it be her heart had never healed from the childhood infatuation with him? She’d been twelve when he finished school, and she’d seen him at church every Wednesday night and Sunday after that until he left for school in New York. His absence had caused her to cry for weeks.

  Zack had been gone four years. And now he’d come home with children who were definitely older than four.

  He said he wasn’t married. Had his wife died, or had they separated? Where was the twins’ mother? The children had immediately attached themselves to her heart, and those cute accents further endeared them to her. So what had Zack been doing in New York? A few immoral thoughts trekked across her mind. “Father, forgive me,” she whispered into the darkness. Suddenly she gasped. What is wrong with me? The truth ushered in an answer. Chloe touched her heart. A long time ago she’d placed Zack on a pedestal for his kindness toward her, and now with his appearance and questionable past, she’d knocked him clear to the ground.

  His morals and the reason he now had two children were none of her business. Chloe thought a moment longer. She’d become just like those gossips who had hurt her all of her life—condemning and criticizing without taking the time to learn the truth. With that realization, she shoved aside everything that had to do with Zack Kahler and vowed to sleep.

  Four thirty in the morning came too soon. Yawning and craving a few more precious moments of rest, Chloe crawled from bed and readied herself for work. She lit a lantern and watched the amber shadows dance across the faded wallpaper. Had Zack grown accustomed to the new electric lights? What did he think of all the people in that huge city? And what of those newfangled automobiles?

  Shaking her head, Chloe scolded herself for allowing Zack to creep back into her thoughts. She smelled coffee and hurried to help Simeon. The time spent with the old man gave her a lift for the day. His wisdom and views about living a good life were often amusing, and she stored his sayings in her head to contemplate during mindless chores.

  “Morning, Simeon. What’s for breakfast today?”

  He tossed his familiar toothless grin her way. “Scrambled eggs with bits of onion and jalapeños, corn bread, sausage, and grits.”

  “Are the eggs real spicy?” She didn’t want the children to burn their mouths.

  “Not any more than usual. Opens up the head, I always say. Takes care of what ails a body. Coffee’s done and waitin’ on ya.” He wagged the knife her way. “Has anybody complained about my eggs?” He frowned.

  Chloe planted a kiss on his whiskered face, then tied an apron around her waist. “Now, Simeon, the only reason I asked was because we have a couple of children staying with us. They’re from New York, and I doubt if they have ever tasted j
alapeños.”

  He attempted to scowl but laughed instead. “Do you want to keep a couple of eggs separate for ’em? Far be it from me to tamper with a young’un’s sensitive nature.”

  “Oh, you will be blessed for sure.”

  “I already have been. Seein’ you each morning since you started working here is like having my own private angel. God knew this old man had seen his share of strife and needed a glimpse of heaven.”

  She shook her head. “You sure have a way with words.”

  “I’m speakin’ the truth. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed ya.”

  She threw him a puzzled look.

  “Mr. Barton. Yep, he sure is smilin’ the last couple of days, and I saw him watchin’ yer every move.”

  “He only wants to make sure I’m doing a good job.” His little test still caused her stomach to churn and her temper to surface.

  Simeon turned back to cutting up pieces of onion and pepper while whistling “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

  Mr. Barton? Heaven forbid. Simeon needed to concentrate on cooking and not matchmaking. First a sleepless night because she couldn’t get Zack out of her mind and now the prospect of Mr. Barton’s interest. She whipped her attention to measuring grits and water into a huge pan. The twins might like butter in their grits or sugar or maybe both.

  “The Yellow Rose of Texas” continued to waft about the kitchen while Chloe fumed about two men who didn’t interest her in the least. Eighteen years with her father had shown her what men were really like. She’d be better off sticking with Simeon in the kitchen.

  *****

  Zack gathered up the wet sheets from the twins’ bed and descended the back stairs that he thought led to the kitchen. His nose detected what had awakened him this morning. Curly had been humiliated and defensive at the same time. How had those two managed at the orphanage or on the street?

  A woman used to pick up the laundry from the boardinghouse and return it later. He hoped that was still the procedure, considering they would be staying there until he found a home for them. God must have known what He was doing when He urged Zack to save his earnings. He also could have warned Zack about a few things regarding a pair of six-year-olds.

  At the foot of the stairs, he opened a door and inhaled tantalizing smells that tugged at his empty stomach. Another door opened to the kitchen. An old man with an apron stirred something in a bowl, and Chloe pulled plates from a cabinet. He gulped. The little girl he remembered sure had changed.

  Clearing his throat, he forged ahead. “Ah, morning.” Awkwardness for what he carried in his arms hit him like a blast of New York wind.

  Chloe swung her attention his way and smiled. “Why, good morning, Zack.” She walked his way and took the sheets from his arms, then deposited them in a heap outside the door behind him as though the problem was common place. “We’ll have these taken care of today. And I’ll remake the bed after breakfast.”

  “I’m sorry. One of the twins had an accident.” He ventured to study her face. For a moment, he thought he’d drown. An image of the little girl who always thanked him with her wide eyes and sweet smile flashed across his mind.

  “Don’t think a moment about it. What else do you need?”

  “A pitcher of water . . . for the wash basin.” What had come over him? Words had fled from his brain.

  “Certainly.” She reached into the cabinet again and pulled out a pitcher. “I’ll make sure it’s warm.”

  While she busied herself with the water, he observed an old man who poured eggs into a huge skillet. “I’m Zack Kahler.”

  The whiskered old man nodded. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Simeon, the cook. I’d shake your hand, but they’re soaked in onion and jalapeños.”

  “Sure smells good.” All this time, Zack watched Chloe from the corner of his eye. Hadn’t he decided that no woman would ever capture his attention again after Elizabeth had pierced his heart? Yet in all of her finery, Miss Elizabeth had never possessed the same beauty as his eyes feasted on this moment.

  “Here you are.” Chloe held out the pitcher and draped a cloth over it.

  “Thanks.” He took the pitcher and lingered a moment longer on her face. If not for the high cheekbones, she could have passed for the Italian women he’d seen in New York. Not that her Indian heritage bothered him. He’d seen a mix in America’s melting pot. The people of this country weren’t known for color or race but for their courage and purpose. He had no use for prejudice. No time for it. Besides, it went against God’s character.

  “Please remember I’ll take care of your room after breakfast.”

  Zack swallowed hard. “The twins refused to go to sleep last night for fear of this . . . problem. So I took a few precautions for the mattress.”

  She smiled again. “I appreciate that. What are the children’s names?”

  “Curly and Charlie. Curly is the boy, and Charlie’s the girl.” Now he sounded stupid. “Their names are Carlin and Caitlain, but they like the nicknames.”

  “I do, too. They are adorable children. All those curls and freckles.”

  “Yeah, they are special. I hope to find a house for us soon.”

  “Little ones need room to run and play.”

  “And they can be a bundle of energy. I never dreamed adoption would be so difficult.”

  Simeon cleared his throat. “Miss Chloe, your grits are going to boil over if you don’t watch ’em.”

  She blushed and hurried to the stove. Her waist-length black hair clung to her back, tied with a narrow strip of leather.

  “Thanks for the water and cloth.”

  “You’re welcome.” She pulled the pan of grits from the stove and glanced up at him. “Let me know if there is anything else you need.”

  As Zack carried the water pitcher carefully up the back stairs, he heard Simeon whistling “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” Chloe laughed. A very delicious sound.

  Once back in the room, he helped Curly wash and change into dry clothes. The little boy sniffed and avoided Zack.

  “Hey, little man, it’s all right.”

  “It’s what babies do.”

  “You are not a baby, and I remember my little brother had the same problem after our dad died.”

  “When did it stop?”

  Zack thought back through the tragedy of his father’s illness and death. “I don’t remember, but it couldn’t have been very long. I’ll help you with it. How about I wake you up in the middle of the night to use the chamber pot?”

  Curly nodded but still avoided Zack’s gaze. Poor little fellow.

  Charlie touched Zack’s arm. “You’re alone like us, except your mama and papa are close by.”

  Zack reached out to touch her soft curls. “I’ll do my best with you two, but you have to do your part and behave.”

  She tilted her head and nodded. “Me and Curly do get into trouble.”

  “Try real hard, all right?” He smiled at the two with the full understanding they could break into a punching match in the next five minutes. “Are you ready for breakfast? When I fetched the water, the food sure smelled good.”

  Their eyes widened. “We never ate so much before you got us,” Curly said.

  The simplicity of his statement touched Zack in the pit of his stomach—he’d never known true hunger. “Here on out, you two will eat regularly. And I’m going to see if I can get each of you another set of clothes.”

  “And a warm coat and scarf?” Charlie rubbed her hands together as if anticipating wintry temperatures.

  “Honey, it doesn’t get that cold here.” He’d told them before about Kahlerville’s mild temperatures, but they must not have believed him.

  The twins exchanged a puzzled look.

  “You may need a jacket, but most of the time the weather’s pleasant.”

  Curly giggled and covered his mouth. “This must be the heaven Sister Catherine talked about. Plenty of food and no cold weather.”

  Zack swiped a tear from his eye and v
owed to remember this moment the next time they tried his patience to the hilt.

  They made their way down the front steps to the dining room. No sooner had they sat down than Chloe stood before them and described breakfast.

  “I have a couple of scrambled eggs put aside without the onions and jalapeños for the children.”

  What a good idea. “Thank you, Chloe. Me, I love the onions and hot peppers in mine.”

  “I want mine like yours.” Curly lifted his chin.

  “Tell you what.” He leaned toward the little boy. “I’ll let you taste my eggs, and if you like them, we’ll get you some.”

  When he focused his attention on Chloe, a faint smile played on her lips. Did he see admiration in her eyes?

  “Mr. Zack, when you told us to be good, does that mean you’re sending us back to the orphanage if we’re bad?” Curly said.

  “I want to know that, too, Mr. Zack.” Charlie folded her little hands under her chin. “I don’t want to go back there. I’ll do anything you want.”

  “We can sell newspapers and give you all the money.” Curly sat straight in his chair.

  Chloe’s smile immediately whipped into a frown, and she whirled around toward the kitchen. Did she think he’d been mistreating the twins? Threatening them? What had he done wrong?

  Chapter 6

  Chloe poured the twins each a glass of milk. She didn’t understand their relationship to Zack, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Their welfare had nothing to do with her, and she had enough duties at the boardinghouse to keep her mind and body occupied. But the sad, fearful look on those children’s faces tugged at the memories of herself as a child. She understood loneliness, fear of what tomorrow might bring, and intense hunger. After her mother died, her father had resented Chloe and found fault with nearly everything she did. He used the strap at his every whim and threatened to leave her on the preacher’s doorstep where she’d be put to work.

  All because she looked like her mother.

  He began to drink until he drank himself into a grave. She’d surmised he was drunk the night the house caught on fire.