A Texas Legacy Christmas

by DiAnn Mills

  What announcement? Mercy, how did she respond to these women? Mrs. Whitworth, Casey, and Jenny did not attempt to conceal their amusement.

  “I—I assure you that Zack’s time is spent between the newspaper and his children. Anything else is purely coincidental.”

  Unfortunately, her explanation only increased their mirth.

  “Now, now.” Mrs. Whitworth raised a small hand to silence the women. “We must stop embarrassing Chloe. My dear, I do apologize for making you feel uncomfortable. This family does love to tease, but only because we like you. Your relationship with Zack is none of our concern.” She nodded at Casey and Jenny. “Right, ladies?”

  “Of course,” Jenny said.

  Casey nodded. “I well remember how we teased my poor children when they were courting. Chad never knew what to say, but Lark kept her romance a secret until she and her new husband became engaged.”

  Mrs. Whitworth frowned. “It’s a wonder either of those two married. Where are your daughter-in-law and daughter?”

  “Tending to their babies,” Casey said. “My beautiful grandchildren. Bonnie, you’ll feel exactly as I do one day.” She smiled at Chloe.

  You can talk about something else any time.

  “Now that we’ve laughed at Chloe’s expense, let’s change our topic of conversation. Am I hosting Christmas this year?” Mrs. Whitworth said.

  “I believe it’s your turn,” Casey said. “I’m simply excited about all my children and precious grandbabies being home again.”

  “And Michael Paul will be home from seminary.” Mrs. Whitworth turned her attention to Chloe. “You will love our Christmas celebration. Actually, it begins in the afternoon of Christmas Eve.”

  Whatever did they do for all of that time? “In the afternoon?”

  “Before church services, we take meals to those who are less fortunate, ill, or alone, and we invite all of them to come to church. After the Christmas Eve services, we carol through the streets. Once we’ve sung every Christmas song we know—sometimes twice—we end up at Grant and Jenny’s for coffee, hot chocolate, and sweet potato pecan pie. It’s very late when we finally arrive home. Some of us have been known to stay up all night, preparing for the next day.” Mrs. Whitworth pointed a finger at Casey. “Anyway, with children in our midst, it will be wonderful. And we so want you to join us.”

  Chloe had mixed emotions about how to respond. She knew they didn’t intend to embarrass her, but she sensed the color rising in her cheeks. Were Zack’s uncles teasing him about her? She set forth her best manners. “If Zack should ask, I would consider it an honor to be a part of your celebration.”

  “Perfect.” Mrs. Whitworth rested her cup on the table. “I think it’s about time we rounded up the men and children to gather pecans.”

  Chloe instantly rose to her feet. Anything to avoid the topic of her and Zack. Yet when she considered the women’s friendship, their faith, and their strength, she was glad to be with them. Perhaps Zack would invite her for Christmas. How very grand. His gesture would be the nicest gift she had ever received.

  Lydia Anne entered the parlor. “Mama, I think Chloe should spend some time with me. You and Aunt Casey and Aunt Jenny are asking her awkward questions.” The young woman reached for Chloe’s hand. “I’ll rescue you from these women. I may have to teach you how to handle their teasing.” She lifted her chin and led Chloe from the parlor.

  “Thank you,” Chloe whispered.

  “You’re welcome. If I ever meet a man who might be marriage material, I will keep him all to myself until I’m sure he’s the right one. Otherwise, Mama and the others will pester me until I can’t see straight.”

  Chloe laughed and walked with Lydia Anne out onto the front porch. She was ready to pick up a bushel of pecans and take a few much-needed big breaths.

  Chapter 15

  Hank stepped into the newspaper office on Saturday morning, blowing on his hands. “December 2nd, and it’s already downright cold out there. Makes me wonder if I need gloves.”

  “I agree. I’m having Curly and Charlie wear their jackets until the stove warms up the place.” Zack glanced at his two sleepy children. For some reason, they’d had a difficult time waking up this morning. “They received a good health report from my uncle Grant yesterday, and I want to keep them that way.”

  “Poppy, I want to sleep some more.” Charlie rubbed her eyes.

  “Didn’t you two sleep last night?”

  Charlie looked at her brother, then at Zack. “I had a bad dream.”

  She had his complete attention. “Charlie, why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “I was afraid I’d make you mad. So I woke up Curly.”

  Zack sighed. “I’m your poppy. When you have a bad dream, wake me up. We’ll talk about it. Why did you think I’d be mad?”

  “Because you have to work at the newspaper on Saturday, but we don’t have school.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m a poppy who loves you all the time. I want to know when you’re frightened.”

  She nodded. “Can I lie down?”

  “My little one, the floor is cold and dirty.” Frustrated, Zack wished one more time that he had his own home with blankets and quilts to keep his children warm. Everything belonged to the boardinghouse. Although Chloe never refused him a thing, he still had to request extra blankets or towels. He started to pull off his jacket.

  “No need to do that,” Hank said. “I have a couple of old blankets in the back of my wagon, but they’re clean. We could make a fine bed with them. I left my coffee mug out there, and it’s half full.” He ruffled Curly’s head. “The missus made biscuits stuffed with sausage links this morning. I figure in another couple of hours, these two will be hungry.”

  “I hope there’s a few for me.” Gil waved and went back to reading ad copy. His lanky frame looked out of place on the small stool.

  “Me too. Thanks, Hank,” Zack said. “I really need to find us a house. At least Lydia Anne could keep them for me at a home rather than all the way back to Mama and Dad’s ranch.”

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” The older man winked. “We’ll talk later. Right now, let’s warm up your young’uns. Have you made coffee?”

  “I will right now.”

  Hank disappeared only to return in a few moments. “Somebody stole my blankets, the biscuits, and my mug.” Irritation rolled off his tongue like bitter medicine. “I’d best not catch him.” He swung his attention to Gil.

  “Did you try to pull a prank on me?”

  “No sir. I have two babies at home. I wouldn’t risk losing my job because you broke both my arms and legs for stealing.” He grinned, then sobered. “Stealing from a man’s wagon is downright low.”

  Zack stepped outside to take a look for himself. Hank couldn’t have misplaced all of those items. Sure enough. The back of the wagon was bare. Puzzled, he recalled the missing food at the boardinghouse and how Chloe and Simeon had begun placing a plate of food on the windowsill. It disappeared regularly, but no one ever saw the culprit.

  Back inside the newspaper office, he made his way to Hank. “We have a thief, and I wonder if it’s the same fellow who took food from the boardinghouse.”

  “You’d think if he was cold and hungry, he’d ask for what he needed.” Hank stoked the fire in the stove. He sighed and wiped the soot off his hands. “Sounds like a good news story to me.”

  Zack snapped his fingers. “We could give it a human interest angle. Someone homeless and hungry is hiding in our midst. In the spirit of ‘Peace on earth, good will toward men,’ we want to extend hospitality to whoever is destitute.”

  “Makes for good reading,” Hank said. “I hope whoever stole the food and blankets will confess and stop this nonsense. We have charitable organizations in town that will supply those things.”

  Gil cleared his throat. “I agree. The fellow who’s doing this sure is doing a good job of keeping out of sight. Almost like a ghost.”

  “A ghost, Poppy?�
�� Charlie said. “The newsboys used to say a ghost would get me and Curly.”

  Zack shot a quick look at Gil, who mouthed an apology. “He’s teasing. Gil is talking about a man who could steal and not be seen like a ghost.”

  The twins nodded their heads as if they understood.

  “Zack, why don’t you take the young’uns to your folks?” Hank said. “Me and Gil will hold down things until you get back.”

  “Good idea. I’ll do that. When I return, I’ll start the article about our town’s hungry thief. We could run it next Saturday. Oh, and we need an article for the community tree-trimming event next Saturday, too. First thing I’ll do when I get back is load up the wagon with today’s papers and get them delivered this afternoon.”

  “I’ll load the wagon and do the deliveries,” Gil said. “That will get me out of a little hot water over my comment.”

  Zack laughed. “I’ll take that deal.” He headed for the door. “Come on, you two. How about a day with Grandma and Grandpa? You can rest there.” He hoped his parents didn’t mind. Taking advantage of them was the last thing he wanted to do. Once he found a place to live, he could hire a woman to help him. But he knew he didn’t want anyone to care for Curly and Charlie but Chloe. Am I being selfish, or do I love her so much that I want only her to tend to the twins?

  *****

  Mr. Barton bustled through the front door of the boardinghouse with a huge box in his hands. The breakfast dishes had been cleared away, and Chloe busied herself by straightening the dining room. As she scrubbed this morning’s pancake syrup from the chairs and tables, she saw from the corner of her eye Mr. Barton set the box on a clean table.

  “Miss Weaver.”

  She whirled around. Lately she dreaded to see the man coming. She never knew if he would be the businessman or the man who wanted to court her. Men could be impossible to deal with.

  “It may only be the second of December, but I’m ready to decorate for Christmas. Want to give me a hand?” A smile reached from one ear to the other.

  She’d rather deal with the businessman.

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “These ornaments and other decorations were in my attic. I placed them up there a few years ago after my parents died.” He started to pull the items from the box. “I haven’t gone through these. Thought a woman’s touch was in order.”

  Chloe set her wash bucket and wet cloths by the kitchen door and stepped over to examine the contents of Mr. Barton’s box. Carefully, he unwrapped a couple of delicately etched glass ornaments.

  “Mr. Barton, you may not want to use the glass ornaments. They look costly and could easily get broken.”

  He held up one and allowed the light from the dining room window to reflect on the etchings. “Mother loved these. She had them shipped from England.”

  “All the more reason to keep them at your home.”

  “But if folks can’t see their beauty, then why have them at all?” He laid the ornament back on the table and smiled into her face.

  “How would you feel if one of them were broken?” She pointed at the box. “There are plenty of other things for us to use.”

  “We do have children staying with us, but I will speak to Zack about making sure they do not enter the parlor without him and that they do not touch any of the decorations.”

  The comment stung, but the rebuttal threatening to leave her mouth was not appropriate. “I would not want your parents’ heirlooms damaged for any reason. I suppose if caution is taken—”

  “And we do not light the candles on it.”

  “Yes, of course. Perhaps Kahlerville will soon have electricity, and in the future the candles could be eliminated.”

  His gaze lingered a bit too long on her face. “I will make certain my home will be the first to have electricity. Would you like that, Miss Weaver?”

  She wasn’t going to fall prey to his insinuations. “You mean the boardinghouse?”

  “Not at all.” His face grew serious. “I mean my home that I would like to share with a deserving young woman. A home that I’d like nothing better than to fill with the sounds of children and the warmth of love.”

  His words were spoken barely above a whisper, and they touched her not because she had any feelings for him but because his loneliness aroused pity. She swallowed the emotion swirling throughout her. Mr. Barton could be strange at times, even exasperating, but he did have a good heart. Oh how she wished the right woman would walk into his life this very minute.

  “Mr. Barton, I—”

  He raised his hand. “Please, don’t say a word. I fear I may have been so transparent that you’ve become embarrassed. I apologize for speaking my heart. You’ve said we barely know each other, but I see in you what I long for—a beautiful woman with a heart of pure gold. Do not discard me, dear Chloe. Give me an opportunity to win you. If you would only let yourself love me, I’d spend the rest of my days showering you with everything you could ever desire.”

  At that moment, if she could have forced herself to embrace him, she would have. Even so, a relationship based on compassion for a wounded heart was doomed to fail. “You have found these affections for me in such a short time. And—”

  “I have no doubts.”

  Dear Lord, what do I say to him? He sees how Zack and I have started to feel for each other. He also sees how Simeon and Miss Scott are growing closer. Can you bring him the right woman?

  “Mr. Barton—”

  “Jacob.”

  She took a deep breath, yet her hands trembled. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up an ornament or attempt to change the topic of conversation. Neither could she bring herself to call her employer by his first name. “I am deeply indebted to you for giving me this job. I’ve told only one other person this—Miss Scott—but I didn’t have a place to live after my father died in the fire. She would have taken me in, but pride stopped me. You not only gave me a wonderful job, but you gave me a place to live and food to eat.” She took another breath. “If gratitude alone was the foundation for affection, I would welcome your interest in me.”

  A mixture of pain and tenderness swept over his face. “Your honesty has reached that part of me where few people ever go. I cannot cast away the thought that you might one day care. Now, let’s not trouble each other with these hard words. I want to decorate the parlor and the dining room with festive decorations.”

  “Thank you. Yes, let’s make the boardinghouse look positively beautiful.”

  “And we can discuss the kind of cookies you and I will persuade Simeon to bake for the schoolchildren.”

  “I’d like that very much. Have you discussed the Christmas Eve dinner for the needy with him?”

  Mr. Barton laughed. “Not yet. I already know that I will have to put on an apron and peel potatoes that night.”

  She joined in his laughter and realized all she could do for Mr. Barton was continue to pray that God put a special woman in his path who would love him with all of her heart.

  “I’ll enjoy helping.”

  “And I understand why.”

  One day soon, she’d tell Zack about those agonizing days before she found work at the boardinghouse. And if he ever asked about Mr. Barton, she’d tell him about this conversation. Chloe had no desire to play each man against the other. Her affections were Zack Kahler’s alone.

  Chapter 16

  As soon as Sunday dinner was over at the boardinghouse, the twins twisted in their seats and began to pick at each other. Zack cast a disapproving look their way, but he understood their restlessness. And he wanted them to store up happy childhood memories that lived forever in their little minds, not just remembrances of times they were scolded for being children.

  “Are you two in a rush to play?” Chloe said. They’d shared lunch together, which had become a routine for them on Sundays. “You two are wiggling like a couple of worms after a rain.”

  “Grandma and Grandpa are coming by to take us to the ranch.” The words seemed
to spill from Curly’s mouth. “First, they were having lunch with Uncle Grant and Aunt Jenny.”

  “Oh, I see. And you’re excited?”

  Charlie had a habit of widening her eyes in a way that spoke fathoms. “Yes, ma’am. We’re making ginger cookies. They’re Poppy’s favorite. Grandma says he used to eat them all before Christmas, and there’d be none left for anyone else.”

  Zack laughed. How did his two little rascals know he always got the last ones? “I admit those are the best cookies around. I love dunking them in coffee.”

  Curly sat straighter in the chair. “And I’ll love dunking them in my milk.”

  “We both will,” Charlie added. “Miss Chloe, what are your favorite cookies?”

  She pressed her finger to her chin. “I like the big sugar ones.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said. “Like the ones Mr. Simeon makes?”

  Chloe nodded. “But I’ve never had a ginger one. So before your poppy eats them all, save one for me.”

  Zack pulled out his pocket watch. “Grandma and Grandpa will be here soon. Why don’t you two go on up to the room and change your clothes? But walk. You don’t want to disrupt the other guests. I’ll be along in a minute to help.”

  As soon as the children walked from the dining room, Zack heard their little feet scamper up the stairs. He leaned across the table. “Take a walk with me once I’m a free man?”

  “You should rest. You could visit old friends. Read. And you want to take a walk?”

  “Only with you.”

  A smile lit up her face. “Where?”

  “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

  Chloe laughed. If given the opportunity, he’d make sure she laughed every day for the rest of her life. “In that case, the answer is yes. I need to get a sweater. It’s gotten chilly.”

  “In New York, this is summer.”

  She tilted her head. “I’ve heard your stories about the cold in New York, and I don’t like them at all. I think I’d freeze up in September and not thaw out until June.”