And...
She loved him.
He made her steps quicken to greet him. He made her heart beat faster—even now.
Where he was standing, he was framed by the kitchen window. Behind him, beyond the glass, tiny snowflakes were still falling, sparkling in the afternoon light. All the trees looked like they’d been painted with thick white icing. A beautiful wintry scene. Home. Seattle. Washington Territory. The majestic Cascade Mountains. The trees. So many beautiful trees.
She couldn’t imagine life anywhere else. Everything she saw—inside and out—was “good enough.” A blessing. An early Christmas gift of sorts.
What did burnt biscuits matter? Or apple pie?
Isaac wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her snuggly against his side. He was so warm and solid, always there for her. And she fit so nicely against him, her cheek resting against his chest.
“It’s perfect—isn’t it?” he asked.
Becky swallowed, her nose prickly and tingly with tears. She nodded once.
“Are you crying again?” he asked, resting his chin on the top of her head. How often had they stood like this? Watching over the boys as they slept... Staring up at the stars over the mountains... Just enjoying each other’s company... She could stand like this forever.
“No.” Becky blinked rapidly, grateful he couldn’t see her face. Her nose was likely red and her eyes a little too shiny.
“Liar,” he teased, wriggling his chin against her hair.
“They’re tears of happiness,” she said defensively.
“Oh, well, I guess that makes them ‘good enough’ too.”
She swatted his arm and giggled, sniffling back her tears.
But he was right.
It was good enough.
More than good enough.
After Becky put her tablecloth in a tub to soak, and after she finally managed to get Levi and Jakob settled down, building towers on the floor with their wooden blocks, she realized Isaac and Jem had disappeared.
Where did they go? she wondered, looking around. One moment they were there and the next they had simply vanished without a word.
“Where are Isaac and Jem?” she asked Pop.
“Out to the barn?”
“Again?” she asked distractedly.
Pop looked meaningfully at the boys who paused over their tower to look up at them. They were sprawled on the floor on their bellies, nose to nose, feet up, looking much like bookends.
With sudden understanding, she pictured Isaac and Jem planning some special surprise for the boys, and she’d almost spoiled it. She knew Isaac had been doing some woodworking over the past few weeks. He’d gone out to do barn chores, supposedly, only to return home with tiny wood shavings dotting his clothes and smelling of fresh cut pine. It was very possible he’d made the boys a hobbyhorse or some other surprise gift he hadn’t seen fit to tell her about. That man did love his little surprises.
“Oh, right,” she said, perhaps a little too loudly, “the barn. I bet Jem wanted to check on—”
“—the mare,” Pop finished for her, and they smiled at each other. “And now,” he added with an air of decision, “I either need to take a real nap in a real bed, or we’d better get some music going.”
“Music?” she asked with a hopeful smile.
“Music!” The boys leapt to their feet, abandoning their tower. It toppled to the floor, blocks scattering in all directions. She’d be finding them days later under tables and chairs, she was sure.
“I thought you’d say that.” Pop rubbed his hands together briskly and then pushed off the rocker arms to stand. He gathered the case he’d left by the doorway and returned to his rocker by the fire. With a twang of strings, he pulled a long, beautifully crafted and polished wooden box from his bag. He set the dulcimer carefully aside, and then reached inside the bag again, making a big show of searching around the bottom. Something jangled inside the bag, a muffled metallic noise.
“What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a long strand of sleigh bells, which jangled ever louder as he lifted them out. He managed to look completely befuddled by the discovery. As if a six-foot length of sleigh bells had somehow gotten in there by itself. The rascal. He was enjoying every minute of this. Just as he’d enjoyed the sleigh ride they’d taken after church on Sunday. They all had.
Levi looked at his brother wide-eyed. His mouth fell open in the most comical fashion, but he didn’t say a word.
“Sleigh bells,” Jake said in a hushed tone. He covered his mouth with both hands. Levi copied him, covering his mouth too. They simply stared at each other, evidently enthralled.
Becky and Pop shared a look of amused surprise. Now they were quiet?
“Ah, yes,” Pop said as he laid the bells across their waiting hands like a big sagging W. “Now I remember. I have a special song to play, and I’m going to need your help.”
“Jingle Bells!”
“The One Horse Open Sleigh,” he corrected. “At least that’s what we called it when I was a much younger man.” His eyes twinkled.
Pop was the same as always, Becky decided, watching him. He was perhaps a little older looking, but still as fit as a man half his age. Today, he’d taken special care with his appearance. His silvery-white hair was neatly combed and tied with black twine at the back of his neck, in his customary Western queue. He wore his Sunday-going-to-church black wool trousers, his best black boots, and a navy button-down flannel shirt that brought out the blue in his steel-blue eyes. She thought he looked especially nice. Distinguished. Dashing even. And where the hem of his trousers rode up over the top of his boots, she saw a band of bright red, the tops of a pair of wool socks. Bright red. She shook her head, amused. His hearing was the only real sign of age that Becky had noticed. Sometimes, she suspected he heard what he wanted to hear and didn’t hear what he didn’t want to hear, but just as often she wasn’t sure anymore.
Now, as she watched him tune the strings of his dulcimer, she noticed how closely he bent over the polished wooden board, as if he was straining to catch each strum and pluck of the cords. He frowned as the boys ran past with the long strand of sleigh bells trailing behind them, making a racket. She suspected he could hear his instrument well enough to tune it, but that it was more of an effort.
“Can you get them to be still?” he asked her, his voice gravelly and a little gruff. His eyes sparkled with the light of good humor though, so she knew he wasn’t as irritated as he sounded.
“Boys!” Becky lassoed them in her arms as they ran past, yelling, and gathered them close. “Grandpop needs a few minutes of quiet so he can get the dulcimer ready. You want him to play, don’t you?”
“Play it!”
“Play it now!”
“You’re going to have to be very quiet, all right?” She placed one hand on Levi’s shoulder, the other on Jake’s, bracketing them before her, the sleigh bells trailing on the floor between them. She gazed at them in a solemn fashion. “Or…” she added thoughtfully, as if she truly had her doubts, “maybe you can’t be quiet...?”
Immediately, their eyes grew wide with offense.
“We can be quiet!” Jake protested.
“Can so!”
“Levi! Too loud!” Jake’s whisper likely could have been heard down at the barn.
“All right then,” Becky said, hiding a smile. “Show me.”
The boys shared a glance, and some silent communication passed between them. Without a word, they slunk off, with the sleigh bells carried carefully between them, and disappeared underneath the dining table to watch their grandpop working over his dulcimer, his forehead creased with concentration.
Becky tilted her head, considering him. For all his barks, that man loved his family. He loved Isaac—enough to risk sending off for a bride for him without permission or foreknowledge—and he loved their boys.
And he loved her.
He’d become closer to her than her own father had ever been when she was growing up. She
no longer constantly felt like she didn’t measure up. Or at least when she did feel that way, she also recognized the thoughts were coming from within. Pop certainly wasn’t making her feel that way, and neither was Isaac. It came from a deep place inside, from a lifetime of insecurity and self-doubt.
Those times came less frequently now. More often she felt a deep sense of peace, even contentment. It was like one of the scriptures Isaac liked to quote, about finding the secret of being content in all circumstances, whether rich or poor, wherever you were. There were so many blessings. So many ways to see God in the little things. And the big things.
She’d do well to remember not to take herself so seriously whenever she failed. Like with the biscuits. And the apple pies.
“You ready?” Pop called out to the boys, and they came running, tripping over their own feet and dragging the sleigh bells behind them. Loudly.
Pop winced only the slightest bit and patted the edge of the bear rug, well away from the snapping fire. “All right, we’re going to practice a bit first. You stand here, and when I give you the nod, you’re going to shake those bells. All right?”
“Bells!” Levi cried, nodding vigorously.
“Bells, bells, bells!” Jake chimed in, equally as loud, evidently deciding they’d been set free from their imposed silence.
Pop plucked a few practice chords, delightfully in tune, and soon his fingers were flying over the strings, playing a lively, bouncing rendition of “The One Horse Open Sleigh.”
Isaac and Jem returned then, as if the folksy melody had called to them. Becky eyed them as they strode in. Pop had said they’d gone to the barn, but they didn’t look like they’d been outside. In fact, she didn’t see any sign of cold or snow on them... No coats, no dampened hems. Their cheeks weren’t whipped red by the wind. Their hair wasn’t mussed from wearing a hat. So where had they been? And why did they look like they were hiding something? Why was Isaac so obviously trying not to grin? She could tell that easily enough. She knew every plane and curve of that man’s face. Those laughter lines at the corners of his eyes were crinkled slightly. And, to her mind, Jem seemed just a little too studiously expressionless, as he took his place standing near the mantel.
Hmmm...
They were obviously up to something. It could simply be one of the surprises they’d planned for the boys, she supposed, but something about the way Isaac glanced at her struck her as...suppressed excitement. As if this particular surprise had less to do with the boys and more to do with her. A nervous little thrill shot through her. What had he done? Would she like it? Perhaps it was nothing at all, just his anticipation of the music. He did enjoy singing. Or perhaps he was simply looking forward to Christmas morning with the boys. Except... some inner voice insisted he was planning some surprise for her. Was he? And did it have anything to do with Pop offering to go hunting with her early this morning? And his desire to take a rather circuitous path home? Definitely suspicious. There was some sort of collusion going on—she was almost sure of it.
Isaac came up right behind her and slid his arms around her, tugging her gently but firmly against him. As Pop began to sing, they joined in. She felt the rumble of Isaac’s chest against her back as his pleasing baritone joined her soprano, and Jem’s voice joined in—although with more effort than skill on his part.
Dashing thro’ the snow,
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O’er the hills we go,
Laughing all the way;
Bells on bobtail ring,
Making spirits bright,
Oh what sport to ride and sing
A sleighing song tonight.
Jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way;
Oh! what joy it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh...*
Pop’s fingers flew over the dulcimer strings, and each time he nodded, the boys gave their strand of sleigh bells a hearty shake. Jake and Levi didn’t quite know every word of the song, but whenever they sang the chorus, they gave it their all, singing in full voice.
A perfect Christmas, Becky thought. Or close enough. A knot of tension loosened in her chest that she hadn’t realized was there until now. The singing brought joy to her heart and a rush of contentment that had everything to do with the sound of music in her home, the sight of her loved ones gathered around her, and the sensation of warmth she felt from being held close by the man she loved.
Pop paused significantly over the dulcimer strings, holding the instrument balanced across his knees. With a decided glimmer of mischief in his eyes, he nodded his biggest nod yet to the boys. They shook the sleigh bells with the greatest vigor as he finished out the song. The noise was deafening...and beautiful. Becky fell silent, simply unable to sing anymore because a rush of emotion had stolen the words. As she snuggled back against Isaac, he stopped singing as well and together they listened to the joyful noise of their two young boys, to a nearly-tone-deaf, but earnest young man, and to an aging, but much-loved, Western-dime-story hero, strumming away.
Isaac bent close and nuzzled Becky’s ear, making her squirm and laugh. She swatted him playfully. At the height of the racket, Pop abruptly stopped playing, laying his hands gently over the strings to still the sound. Jem stopped too and waited as the boys trailed off a little more slowly, their faces red with exertion and the heat of the fire.
They’ll sleep well tonight, Becky thought. As the last few tinkling jangles of the sleigh bells petered out, she let out a sigh.
They all looked at her with equal expressions of expectation, and she wondered, with a strange rush of power, if they all looked to her for approval. What a heady thought.
“Perfect,” she said, clapping madly. She pulled free from Isaac’s grasp—giggling like a girl as he released her with a great show of reluctance—and went to kiss Jake and Levi on their rosy cheeks. She kissed Pop’s forehead, making him grin with evident pleasure. Finally, she pressed a sisterly kiss to Jem’s cheek as well. He immediately turned a bright shade of red, somehow managing to look both ridiculously pleased and embarrassed at the same time.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect.” She returned to Isaac, smiling.
“Not quite,” he said.
“What?” she asked, confused. Wasn’t he the one who’d told her how perfect “good enough” was? This was far better than “good enough.”
Not quite?
Not quite what? What more was there?
“This way.” He jerked his head to one side. For a moment, his eyes met Jem’s, and they exchanged a nearly imperceptible inclination of their heads. A shared look of...anticipation. She could have sworn Isaac’s lips twitched.
Aha! Just as she suspected. They were up to something.
The boys looked on with interest. She peered at them. Were they in on it? Probably not. Isaac knew well enough that they couldn’t keep a secret... If she were keeping a secret, she certainly wouldn’t tell them a thing. They’d just turned three, after all. She wasn’t sure about Pop though. He had his head bent over his dulcimer, plucking a few tuneful chords, as if deciding what he was going to play next. He didn’t look up. That in itself was suspicious. Or at least she thought it was. He had known something about Isaac and Jem’s disappearance earlier, and he’d just as certainly pretended they’d gone out to the barn.
It couldn’t be a present. It was too early for that. They always exchanged their Christmas gifts in the morning. Always.
“What are you up to?” She narrowed her eyes at Isaac, and he pasted on what she could only describe as an overly innocent expression.
FOUR
Just follow me.” Isaac grabbed Becky’s hand and, with an almost boyish grin, led her to the new baby’s room—or what was meant to be the baby’s room someday. It had been empty—mostly—since he built the house for her several years ago. The only things he kept inside that room were a few crates of old logging equipment pushed up against the back wall.
All of that will have to be moved before
the baby comes, she thought. One more thing to do. Only, the crates were too heavy for her to move herself in her current condition. Too heavy for her in any condition. She’d need Isaac’s help. And possibly Jem’s and Pop’s too.
Maybe she could get them to move them to the back of the barn tomorrow...
Although, maybe not on Christmas day. It was their day to relax and enjoy the holidays after all. Besides, in the early days, she and Isaac would have the cradle set up in their own room. So it wasn’t like there was a rush.
But...
But it would be so nice to have it all done. Ready. Like filling her lungs with a big breath of clean fresh mountain air and letting it out.
She told herself it could wait. The baby wasn’t due for another four months or so.
When Isaac urged her to open the door, she saw the room had changed. The boxes of old logging equipment were gone, and the room had been transformed.
Becky gasped aloud, entering the room in a daze and spinning slowly around. There were no curtains at the windows yet. There were no quilts or toys. But on one wall there was a small pine dresser with three drawers. To her delight, she saw Isaac had fashioned wooden pulls in whimsical animal shapes: a mountain horse, an eagle, a squirrel, an owl, and on the top drawer... two lumbering grizzly bears. She paused at the sight, smiling softly to herself before continuing on, taking in a child’s bed with rails and a big round braided rug—in the unquestionably feminine colors of cream and pink.
The room was on the sparse side as yet, but lovely. Absolutely lovely. And absolutely a wonderful surprise. It was a nursery. Or the beginnings of one anyway.
“Isaac,” she whispered. She breathed in deep and instead of fresh mountain air, smelled something a bit more acrid. The scent of burnt biscuits and the burnt pie had clung to their clothes and followed them in, she guessed. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all.
“You made the dresser?” she asked softly.
He nodded, watching her face.
Sleigh Bells & Mistletoe: A Short Story (The Brides Series 1.5) Page 3
