Log Cabin Christmas

by Margaret Brownley

  “I realize that, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon, and you really should have waited.”

  Grandpa’s face turned red. “Carolyn, please stop telling me what to do. I’m perfectly capable of straightening a painting, and I shouldn’t have to call on Seth to do every little thing!”

  Mother’s chin trembled and tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t have to raise your voice when you speak to me, Papa.”

  “Sorry,” Grandpa mumbled, “but I get tired of you fussing all the time and telling me what to do. I’m not a little boy, and you’re not my mother.”

  “No, I’m just a daughter who’s concerned about her father’s welfare. Is there a law against that?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  David cleared his throat real loud. “I’d be happy to straighten the picture for you, and then I need to get back to work.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Grandpa was quick to say. “I can climb back on the ladder and finish the job I started.” His gaze swung to Mother then back to David. “And since your mother’s so worried about me, she can hold the ladder to keep it steady.”

  Mother planted both hands on her hips and scowled at him. “I will not hold the ladder so you can go back up there! We need to wait until Seth gets here so he can do the job we’re paying him to do.”

  Grandpa opened his mouth as if to say more, but then he clamped it shut and headed for the front door.

  “Where are you going?” Mother called to his retreating form.

  “Out for a walk. I think a bit of fresh air might do me some good.” He glanced over his shoulder at David. “You may as well head back to your shop.”

  “What about the picture?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. It can wait for Seth.”

  As Grandpa hurried out the door, David turned to Mother and said, “I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

  Her forehead creased as she frowned. “I doubt that. When your grandfather returns, he’ll probably get involved with something else he shouldn’t be doing.”

  David gave her arm an easy pat and went out the door, smiling to himself. Some things never seemed to change.

  “This place is so small,” Helen told Elizabeth for the fifth time since they’d begun cleaning the cabin. “I don’t see how you’re going to live in such cramped quarters.”

  “We’ll be fine. It’s just going to be the two of us, so we don’t need muchroom. Besides, we can always add on to the cabin when children come. Even so, I’d hate to change anything that might take away from the quaintness my grandpa created.”

  Elizabeth picked up a rag and began dusting several pieces of furniture that had been left in the cabin and had belonged to her grandparents. Truthfully she looked forward to living here, away from the noise and hustle-bustle of the city, which seemed to be growing rapidly these days. Even as small as the cabin was, Elizabeth looked around and was almost giddy with excitement, knowing this was going to be her and David’s first home, where their life together would soon begin.

  “You have no indoor necessary room here, and you’ll have to heat water on the stove for washing dishes and bathing.” Helen gestured to the floor. “There aren’t even any carpets on this drab-looking puncheon floor.”

  “We’ll use the outhouse, just like my parents and grandparents did when they lived here.” Elizabeth looked down at the short, thick planks confined by wooden pins. “I can always put some braided throw rugs on the floor.”

  Helen shrugged and gave an unladylike grunt. “I’ve finished washing the windows now. What would you like me to do next?”

  Elizabeth was about to suggest that Helen go through some boxes of books they’d found earlier, when a knock sounded on the cabin door.

  “I wonder who that could be,” Helen said.

  Elizabeth smiled. “It might be David. When I spoke to him the other day, he said he hoped to come by after he finished working today.”

  Helen glanced at the simple windup clock on the mantel. “It’s only two o’clock. Do you think he’d be done this soon?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Elizabeth patted the sides of her hair, smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, and hurried across the room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Helen’s father, Reverend Warner, standing on the stoop with furrowed brows.

  “Is Helen here?” he asked. “She said she might be helping you clean the cabin today.”

  “Yes, she’s here, and we’re still cleaning.” Elizabeth opened the door wider to bid him enter.

  Reverend Warner started toward Helen, and she met him halfway. “Is there something wrong, Father?” she asked with a worried expression.

  “I don’t believe it’s anything serious, but your mother isn’t feeling well, and I’d like you to come home. I’m sure she won’t be up to fixing supper this evening,” he added in a desperate tone.

  Helen looked at Elizabeth. “Would you mind if I leave early?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You’re needed at home more than here right now.”

  “All right then. I’ll return your dress to you soon.” Helen wrapped her woolen shawl around her shoulders and followed her father out the door.

  As Reverend Warner’s buggy wheels rumbled down the dirt road, Elizabeth returned to the job of cleaning, humming softly to herself, enjoying the quiet cabin.

  While she worked, childhood memories flooded her mind. Remembering the warmth Mother had brought to this little cabin, Elizabeth could almost smell the homemade bread baking and loved how that smell lingered long after the loaves had cooled on the rack. She longed after so many years to bring those moments alive once again in this cozy cabin she would soon call home.

  After Elizabeth finished dusting an old desk’s surfaces, she opened each drawer and cleaned the crevices. One of the drawers, however, seemed to be stuck.

  Determined to get it opened, she grabbed the brass knob and pulled as hard as she could. It finally gave way. Inside she found some old drawings she assumed had been done by either Mother or her sister, Lovina. Then, to Elizabeth’s surprise, she discovered a battered-looking leather journal crammed in the very back of the drawer. Curious as to whom it had belonged to, she lifted it out and opened the cover. Aunt Lovina’s name was written there.

  Elizabeth smiled. Mother and her sister grew up in this cabin. Aunt Lovina probably sat right here at this desk to write in her journal. Elizabeth had never been close to her aunt, who as far as she knew had never married. After Aunt Lovina moved to Easton and opened a boardinghouse, Elizabeth hadn’t seen much of her at all. It had always seemed that her aunt preferred keeping to herself. From the few things Elizabeth remembered her mother saying about Aunt Lovina, she’d concluded that the two sisters had never gotten along very well. The last news anyone in the family had heard about her aunt was that she’d sold the boardinghouse and moved, but no one knew where.

  Feeling the need for a break and more than a little curious as to what her aunt’s journal might say, Elizabeth fixed herself a cup of tea and took a seat on the deacon’s bench near the window, placing the journal in her lap.

  The first entry was dated June 10, 1856, and included a note about Lovina’s sixteenth birthday that day and that she’d received the journal from her parents. Lovina hadn’t written much on the first page, other than to say she hoped to write her innermost thoughts in this little book.

  As Elizabeth flipped through the pages, she was careful. Some seemed a bit brittle, and the musty odor reminded her that the journal was old and had probably been stuck in the desk for quite a while.

  Elizabeth read a few more pages, smiling when she came to a journal entry about a mouse that had gotten into the pantry and eaten the cookies Grandma had made, and frowning when she read how Aunt Lovina and Elizabeth’s mother, who was two years younger than Lovina, had argued about who would wash and who would dry the dishes. Their mother had stepped in and settled the dispute.

  Elizabeth sighed. She wi
shed she’d known her mother’s parents, but they’d both died before she was born.

  She turned several more pages and continued to read, until she came to an entry dated April 20, 1860. It read:

  My sister, Cassandra, is marrying Charles Canning today, but she’s taking a horrible secret with her. Cassandra used to be courted by Raymond Stinner, but when he dropped her suddenly and married Carolyn Flannigan, she quickly turned to Charles and agreed to marry him right away. I wonder what Charles would say if he knew Cassandra was pregnant with Raymond’s baby.

  Elizabeth’s mouth went dry as she stared at the journal entry, trying to piece things together. Raymond Stinner was David’s father. Until now, Elizabeth had no idea that he’d courted her mother, much less that she’d been carrying his baby when she married Father. How shocking to learn such a thing about her own mother, whom she’d always held in such high esteem.

  But who is that baby? Elizabeth wondered. Her heart began to race. Could Mother have had a miscarriage, or do I have a brother or sister I don’t know about?

  Anxious to learn more, Elizabeth continued turning the pages in her aunt’s journal, until she found one that read:

  Christmas Eve, 1860: Cassandra’s baby was born today. Cassandra had told everyone that the child was due in January, but now she’s saying the baby came early. That’s just to protect her reputation, of course. She doesn’t want anyone to know—especially not Charles—that she was pregnant when they got married. She especially doesn’t want him to know that Raymond Stinner is the father of her baby. The little girl weighs six pounds and seems to be quite healthy. Of course the reason for that is because she’s not really premature. Cassandra named her baby, Elizabeth. I guess you could say the child is Cassandra’s little Christmas secret.

  Elizabeth swayed unsteadily as the journal slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor with a thud. If Raymond Stinner was her real father, that meant she was David’s half sister! Stunned, she thought, No wonder we both have blond hair and blue eyes.

  When the truth of it all set in, she covered her mouth and choked on a sob. “Oh, dear Lord, how can this be? Why did You allow such a terrible thing to happen? I can never marry David now!”

  As Elizabeth stared into space, her mind racing, the only thing she could see was her dream of being David’s wife and all the wonderful plans they’d made fading further and further away. In a matter of a few minutes, Elizabeth’s world had gone from a future filled with hopes and dreams to an unsettling question: What now?

  Chapter 3

  I got busy workin’ and forgot to ask when you first returned to the shop—is your granddaddy okay?” Gus asked David.

  David nodded. “He fell off a ladder but wasn’t really hurt. Just got the wind knocked out of him, I guess.”

  “Glad to hear he’s all right.”

  “Grandpa tries to do too much, and Mother worries about him too much.”

  Gus chuckled. “Guess that’s what women do—worry about those they love.”

  “I suppose Elizabeth will worry about me after we’re married.” David reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the gold timepiece that had belonged to his father. “Speaking of Elizabeth, I think I’ll head over to the cabin now and see how she’s doing.”

  Gus’s forehead wrinkled. “I thought you were gonna work in the shop until the end of the day.”

  “I can’t concentrate on work right now, and I’m sure you can manage on your own for a while.”

  Gus shrugged. “It’s your right to do whatever you want, ‘cause you’re the boss.”

  David grinned and thumped the man’s shoulder. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  When David mounted his horse and guided him in the direction of the cabin, he began to whistle. He could hardly wait to see his bride-to-be and tell her once more how much he loved her.

  Elizabeth paced between the deacon bench and the fireplace, pondering what she should do about her aunt’s journal. She couldn’t let David or her father see it. Something like this would bring shame on both of their families. She would need to call off the wedding, of course, and the sooner the better. If she just knew what to say to David. This was the most difficult thing she had ever been faced with.

  She glanced at her satchel full of cleaning supplies. She would put the journal in there for now until she was able to dispose of it properly.

  A knock sounded on the cabin door, causing Elizabeth to jump.

  “Who is it?” she called, wondering if Helen had returned to help her finish cleaning.

  “It’s me, David.”

  Elizabeth’s heart pounded so hard she feared her chest would explode. She had to let David in but wasn’t ready to call off the wedding or offer an explanation. How could she, when she was still trying to grasp this horrible secret that, less than an hour ago, she hadn’t even known existed. She’d have to pretend all was well until she figured out the best way to deal with things.

  She whispered a prayer for courage, swiped at the tears on her cheeks, and opened the door. “I—I wasn’t sure I’d see you today. I figured you’d be hard at work,” she said, unable to make eye contact with David.

  He stepped into the room and shut the door. “I said I’d try to come by, remember?”

  “Yes, but I …” She forced herself to look up at him.

  “Is everything all right? Your face looks red, and your eyes are puffy. Have you been crying?” David moved closer and held out his arms. His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore right through her.

  Elizabeth wished only to be held in the comfort of his embrace, and have this black cloud of uncertainty go away, but she quickly stepped back. “I–I’m fine. Just hot and sweaty from working so hard, and I—I may have rubbed my eyes when I was dusting.”

  “I’m sorry you had to work so hard. Where’s Helen, anyway? I thought she was going to help you clean the cabin today.”

  “She was here earlier—until her father came by and said her mother wasn’t feeling well. Helen left with him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear her mother’s ill. Sure hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “Me, too.” Elizabeth shivered and moved to stand in front of the fireplace, feeling the need of its warmth.

  David stepped up beside Elizabeth and, turning her to face him, pressed his forehead to hers.

  Her throat tightened. He’s my brother. He’s my brother, she reminded herself. “David, I …”

  He pulled back slightly, and his mustache tickled as he brushed a kiss across her forehead. “It won’t be long now, and you’ll be my wife. I can hardly wait for Christmas Eve.”

  Cheeks burning and heart pounding, Elizabeth moved quickly away, busying herself as she began to dust the desk where she’d discovered the journal. She’d already dusted it thoroughly but needed to put some distance between her and David.

  “It’s obvious that there’s still some work to be done here, so what would you like me to do?” David asked.

  Silence filled the room. Go home. Leave me alone so I can think.

  “Elizabeth, did you hear what I said?” David touched her arm.

  She turned to face him but fixed her attention on the buttons of his jacket, unable to look at his handsome face. “I–I’ve developed a headache, and my stomach is upset. I think I’d better go home and lie down. Besides, it’s not proper for us to be here alone together without a chaperone.”

  “You’re right, of course.” He retrieved her shawl from the back of the wooden bench and placed it around her shoulders. “I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there safely.”

  “There’s no need for that. I’ll be fine.” Elizabeth grabbed her satchel and hurried out the door.

  She was about to climb into her buckboard when David called, “I really would prefer to make sure you get home safely.”

  “If you wish,” she mumbled. The headache she’d mentioned was real and had become worse—no doubt from the time she’d spent crying after she’d found
Aunt Lovina’s journal. If only she hadn’t read those horrible things her aunt had written. If she could just turn back the hands of time.

  But if I hadn’t read the journal I might have married David—my own brother—and then …

  No longer able to deal with her troubling thoughts, Elizabeth gathered up the reins and got the horse moving. She needed to get home so she could retreat to her bedroom and think things through. She needed to pray about this matter and decide how she should break her engagement to David. The most frigid of winters had never made her feel as cold as she did right now.

  Chapter 4

  Unable to face David, Elizabeth spent the next several days in bed, telling her father and stepmother, Abigail, that she was sick with a stomach virus. Truth be told, her stomach was upset. Food held no appeal, and she’d had to force herself to drink the chamomile tea Abigail had given her. Father had wanted her to see the doctor, but she’d insisted that it was nothing serious and would be fine in a few days.

  I can’t stay in my room forever, Elizabeth told herself as she climbed out of bed one morning. I need to break my engagement to David, and I can’t put it off any longer. I need to do it today.

  She wrapped the quilt from her bed around her shoulders and plodded across the room to the window. It was a dreary-looking day, full of dark clouds and a blustery wind that caused the branches of the elm tree near the house to brush against her window with an irritating scrape.

  Elizabeth shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. It was cold in her room, and she was tempted to crawl back in bed under the warmth of the covers but knew she’d been confined to her room long enough. She’d made a decision before going to sleep last night and needed to follow through with it. She would get dressed, put Aunt Lovina’s journal, as well as a few clothes, into a satchel, and go downstairs for a cup of tea and a biscuit. Then she’d head over to the cabin, leave David a note, and stop on her way to the train station to see Helen, whom she’d decided would be her only confidante. She was glad Father had left on a business trip to New York this morning, and since Abigail had gone shopping, she wouldn’t have to tell them face-to-face that she was leaving. She was sure they wouldn’t have accepted her explanation and feared she may have broken down and told them the truth.