by DiAnn Mills
“But a fool in love with the wrong woman can do some stupid things. I hope you and I can remain friends.”
“Of course.”
Jacob stood. “I need to get back to the feed store. Have a Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks. Will you be at church tomorrow night?”
“I doubt it. With the number of people we’re feeding at the boardinghouse, I’ll be helping Chloe and Simeon.”
“Merry Christmas to you and a blessed New Year.” And Zack sincerely meant every word.
He laughed aloud after Jacob left. What a perfect Christmas for those he loved. Couldn’t ask for a thing this year other than what he already had. It would have been perfect to have Chloe with him for the day, but at least they didn’t have to worry about Jacob trying to break them apart. With a better attitude, he worked for the next hour on editing articles. He would have continued longer, but someone had arrived. Probably needing a newspaper.
“I’ll be right there,” he called.
“No need. I’ll find ya.”
Zack frowned. He didn’t recognize the voice. Pushing himself back from his desk, he walked toward the front of the office. The man before him didn’t look familiar. Neither did he look happy. He needed a bath, and his overalls were splattered with mud.
“What can I do for you? Need a newspaper?”
“Nah. Understand my boy’s working here.” The stench of alcohol seemed to seep from the pores of his skin.
Zack suspected the man was Eli’s father. “Depends on who your son is.”
“Eli Scott. I ran him off. No good. Told him not to set foot near this town, and here he is working for you.” He turned his head and spit tobacco on the floor. “I came to make sure he never shows up again.”
Zack looked at the spot on the floor and then up at the man. “Why do you care where he lives?”
“He’s givin’ me a bad name.”
“Looks to me like you’ve already done a good job of that yourself. Your boy has a scar on his face. You did that?”
“He needed to learn a lesson. Maybe you do, too.”
“Why don’t you leave him alone?”
The man stepped closer. “He’s my son, and I’ll do as I want.”
“He’s seventeen years old. Not a boy anymore.”
Zack saw Eli step from the shadows but kept his eyes on the elder Scott. “Leave now and I won’t report this to the sheriff.”
“I’ll go see him myself and straighten this matter out.”
“Go right ahead. Make sure you bring him back with you.”
The man staggered around and stomped out of the office.
“What will the sheriff do?” Eli said.
“Probably throw him in jail until he sobers up and then tell him to leave you alone.”
“I sure hope so.” Eli made his way to Zack’s side. “I don’t want to end up like him.”
“You’ve got a good man showing you the right road.”
“He says some hard things. I can’t believe them.”
“Listen to him, Eli. He knows the right way.”
Chapter 29
On Christmas Eve, after delivering food to needy families, Zack escorted his children to church, wishing Chloe was there with them. This was supposed to be her day off, but Jacob needed her to help with the dinner preparations. The boardinghouse expected about ten families. Tomorrow they’d all be together after breakfast at the boardinghouse, and he’d have her all to himself for a few precious minurtes. Zack helped the twins down from the buggy and noted the darkness had brought a chill.
“Brr,” he said. “Almost as cold as New York.”
The twins stared at each other. “No, Poppy, New York is very cold,” Curly said.
They’d been strangely quiet all day. Perhaps the excitement had exhausted them.
“Let’s hurry inside and hear what your grandpa has to say about Christmas.”
Candles lit the church, much different from the lanterns on a regular evening service. The tree was lit, too, the candlelight flickering like the star-studded sky on the first Christmas. A bucket of water sat on each side of the tree with a youth watching just in case the tree burst into flames.
Sheriff Jackson eased up beside him. “I told Brother Whitworth, and now I’ll tell you. Eli’s father won’t be bothering him or you. If he attempts anything, let me know. Now it’s up to Eli to change things around.”
“Thanks. He’s got himself a good man to help him along the way.”
After Dad welcomed the congregation, the choir sang several Christmas carols, and the older children presented the nativity story. Zack stole a look at Curly and Charlie. They seemed dazed by what they saw.
“Next year, you can be a part of the Christmas program if you like,” he whispered to each of his children.
Charlie nodded and smiled, but Curly didn’t seem to be so sure. Good. Zack wanted them to have different interests. Dad made his way to the pulpit with his Bible in hand.
“Tonight we celebrate our Lord’s birth.” Dad opened his Bible. “I’m going to read from Luke, chapter 2 . . .”
The familiar story settled into Zack’s mind. Although he had heard the words many times, they’d never lost their freshness or their ability to inspire awe and wonder.
“‘Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.’” Dad paused and looked out on the people. “Everyone who came in contact with the angel was instructed to fear not. God’s message was not to be feared. He had a special gift for them. What about you? What are you afraid of? Is it a special gift from God to you?”
Zack listened. He understood fear. It seized him every time he contemplated raising Curly and Charlie. And it gripped him when he thought of Chloe. Fear. All the uncertainty over taking a wife—providing for her, hoping Curly and Charlie still felt loved, running the newspaper while still having time to be a good husband and father. Fear. He had a heavy dose of it.
“Has God called you to do something for Him, and you’re afraid?”
Zack scooted the twins closer to him. Perhaps God had a message for him in this tonight. Maybe he was supposed to propose to Chloe.
“I love you,” he whispered to each child.
“I love you,” they whispered back.
*****
Christmas morning, Zack woke to the sound of someone or something moving downstairs, like the clanging of a skillet on top of the stove. He blinked. Must be dreaming. But when he smelled wood burning, he rose to investigate. What were Curly and Charlie up to this morning?
A stab of fear shot through him. What if the twins were cooking him breakfast? Yet darkness veiled even a hint of sunrise. This could be a prowler, but prowlers didn’t break into people’s homes to cook. He’d find the source of the noise and hope his children didn’t get burned before he got there. Slipping into his trousers and a shirt, he snatched up a boot to use as a weapon—just in case.
He crept to the door and realized that if a person had broken into the house, he was doing a poor job of keeping quiet. Across the hallway came a lantern light from the kitchen table. His Chloe had milk and eggs on the table along with flour and sugar.
She must have sensed his presence, for she peered up and smiled.
“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Speechless, he simply stared into her face, her lovely features enhanced by the lantern light.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Her sweet whisper shook his senses.
“Uh . . . merry Christmas. I thought you had to work this morning.”
“Mr. Barton gave me the entire day off and an apology.”
He laughed. “I knew he had a good man hidden inside. He stopped to see me yesterday afternoon and apologized, too. You didn’t walk?”
She giggled. “Simeon let me borrow his horse and wagon.”
With her straight black hair swept back from her face and trailing down her back, and her face tinged with peachy shades of health and beauty, Chloe appeared more radia
nt than the star in the east.
“I wanted to make you and the twins Christmas breakfast. This is my gift to you.” She folded her hands before her. “And I have a little something else, too.”
Why is she nervous? “Having you here is the perfect gift.”
She picked up a brown paper package tied with a red ribbon lying on the table beside the milk and eggs. “I will be able to relax once you open this.”
He took the package, shook it, then grinned. “Can I guess?”
“No.” Her smile enchanted him.
Carefully, he untied the ribbon and slipped his fingers around the taped edges and lifted a book. “A ledger.”
“I heard your complaining about not being able to keep track of customers and payments, so with the ledger comes my assistance as your personal bookkeeper.”
He stepped closer, and with a smile that he hoped spoke fathoms of his love, he drew her into his arms. “Thank you. I love the way you are sensitive to my needs. My gift for you is in the parlor.” He paused. “I told myself I would not speak of my feelings today, but I can’t keep this inside any longer.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, her dark eyes brimming with trust and more.
“I love you, Chloe. It took me a lot of years to realize that the little girl who shared my lunch would one day share my heart. But here you are before me, all grown up and in my arms.” He wanted to kiss her, seal his words of love. Hesitantly, so as not to frighten her, he bent to taste her lips. “Do I dare ask how you feel?”
“I love you.” Her face glistened with tears through her smile. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
Zack brushed away the dampness on her cheek with his finger. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”
“It is. I’ve dreamed of this day. And now that it’s happening, I can’t believe it’s true.”
As he drew her closer, she laid her head against his chest. Holding and protecting Chloe—that’s how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
“I hear your heart,” she said.
“Good. Does it tell you merry Christmas?”
“It’s attempting to keep pace with mine.”
They laughed, and the lightness of the moment helped ease the weakness in his knees.
“I came here to make your breakfast, and instead, I’ve found the feast of a lifetime.”
“What a grand feast, too.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her lips again. “You taste sweeter than peppermint candy.” He held her a moment longer. “I could do this all day.”
“So could I. I’m surprised the twins haven’t come bounding out of bed with the excitement of Christmas.”
He nodded. “They were exhausted last night and didn’t fall asleep until after eleven. They need to get up soon so they can enjoy this fine breakfast.”
“I have to finish it first.”
“And what are you planning?”
“All of their favorites and yours.”
“Wonderful. Good thing Christmas dinner isn’t until two o’clock.” He caressed her face, just to make sure what had happened between them was real. She loved him. “We have much to discuss later.”
“I know, but the day will be filled. I’m content with your words of love. We can talk tomorrow or the next day or the next.”
“I can hardly wait. I’m worse than my own children anticipating Christmas.”
“Can we postpone telling them about us?” she said. “This is their first Christmas with their poppy, and I don’t want to take away any of the celebration from them.”
“I understand, and I agree.” He stepped back and took her hands into his. “Once Christmas is over, we can talk to them about us. Probably ought to prepare them slowly.” Then he laughed. “They’ve been real matchmakers. Oh, how they love you.”
“And I feel the same about them. They are irresistible.”
He would have proposed right then, but it was too soon. One giant step at a time. He needed to change the topic of discussion about them before he dropped to one knee and begged her to marry him.
“I want to give you my gift,” he said.
“You already have.”
He shook his head and grinned. “Close your eyes, and don’t move while I get it.” He kissed the tip of her nose and hurried into the parlor, where he snatched up the small box containing her necklace. “Keep your eyes closed.”
“I am.”
He laughed and quickly lifted the lid of the box and pulled out the delicate gold chain. “Don’t move or peek.” He placed the chain and cross around her neck and clumsily fastened the clasp.
“Oh, Zack.”
“Hush and don’t open those pretty brown eyes until I tell you.” He stepped around to face her. “All right. You can look now.”
Her trembling fingers flew to touch the cross and lifted it so she could see. “I want to see it better.”
He’d already thought of that and held up a small mirror. She peered at her image, and tears pooled her eyes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing compared to the woman who is wearing it. I hope to always be able to make you smile and give you beautiful things.”
“Your heart is all I ever want.”
“It’s yours.”
She moistened her lips. “I have a request.”
“Whatever you wish, my lady.”
“Can I help you dress the twins later? I’d love to fix Charlie’s hair.”
“Be my guest. I am all thumbs.” He smiled. “Do you suppose she will ever let me call her Caitlain? The sound of it has such a lovely ring.”
Chloe laughed. “We’ll have to coax her.”
“We. I like the sound of it.”
“Hmm. I do, too. But if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll never get breakfast finished.”
His eyes lingered on her flushed face, his mind dwelling on one more kiss.
“Go.” She laughed and shooed him away as though chasing away chickens. “Do whatever you do before waking Curly and Charlie.”
*****
Chloe trembled with excitement dancing through her body. Zack loved her! He hadn’t said marriage, but he wanted to talk about the future. Imagine a life with Zack. It sounded too good to be true.
In the past, she’d envied those who celebrated Christmas with decorated trees and lavish parties. Now she realized that those regrets took away from the worship of Jesus’ entrance into the world. She’d had very little as a child, but when her mother was alive, she’d read the Christmas story, and the three of them had attended church. Chloe’s mother was gone, but she’d left a legacy, and Chloe intended to do the same with the twins. These things and much more would be passed on to Curly and Charlie, and maybe one day to more children for her and Zack.
She laughed aloud. What a perfect Christmas. With the pancakes ready to fry and the eggs whipped up nicely, she pulled out the plates to set the table. The thud of Zack hurrying down the steps seized her attention.
“Chloe.”
She whirled around. Zack’s pale face told her something was wrong.
“Chloe, the twins are gone.”
“Are you sure? Maybe they slipped out of the house for a moment.”
He shook his head and headed for the door. “I’ve got to find them.”
She pulled the frying pan from the stove and grabbed her jacket. Where had the twins gone?
“Maybe they’re doing something special for you—a gift for Christmas.” Yet she remembered their gifts of paper star ornaments, a pinecone bird feeder, and a book about how Zack had met the twins.
“It’s barely daylight. Neither of them likes the dark. I—I found gifts for me on the bed.” He jammed his arms through his coat sleeves.
He yanked open the door, and the two stepped into the brisk morning.
“Did either of them indicate a problem last night?” she said.
“Not at all. Simply all the anticipation for today. But they were quieter than usual. I
thought they were simply preoccupied with Christmas.” He stiffened. “Charlie did make an odd comment. She asked if it hurt to have my heart broke. And when I asked her what she meant, she asked if it hurt to love them.”
“Strange question for a little girl.”
“I thought so too. So I told her that it didn’t hurt at all to love them. I ignored the question about a broken heart.” He sighed and gazed toward the barn and the surrounding area. “Where could they be?”
“Perhaps they found the puppy.”
“Let’s check in the barn.”
Inside the shadowy barn, Zack took long strides to the corner where he’d made a warm bed inside a stall for the puppy. The little furry collie was still there. Zack stared up at the hayloft. “Do you suppose they’re up there?”
She peered up into the rafters where slivers of starlight peeped through the corners of the barn. “They could have fallen asleep.”
He climbed the ladder to the hayloft, but it was empty. “Where could they be? Curly!” he yelled. “Charlie!”
Nothing.
He called for them again before descending the ladder. “I don’t know where to look. They haven’t indicated a special play spot.” His gaze focused on the pecan trees. “I’ll go see if they decided to gather pecans.”
The desperation in his voice alarmed her. Zack was a man of control and answers. Dear Lord, where are the twins? “I’m not sure whether I should join you, look somewhere else, or stay right here.”
“Why don’t you stay close by the house? They could get hungry or cold.” When she agreed, he took off at a run toward the pecan trees.
Dear Lord, help us find Curly and Charlie. Watch over them and keep them safe and unhurt.
By now, they might feel they were in trouble. “Curly, Charlie. No one’s angry with you. We’re simply worried, and this is Christmas. We are going to have a wonderful celebration.”
Silence greeted her, almost echoing in her ears. She had no choice but to wait in the house. Once inside, she slipped into a kitchen chair and prayed Zack would find the children soon. After several minutes, she decided to finish setting the table and complete breakfast. Trust God. He loved them more than she and Zack could ever comprehend. If she failed to believe God did not have them safe in the palm of His hand, then she had no faith at all.
