Log Cabin Christmas

by Margaret Brownley

  Jakob grabbed her hair.

  “Ow. Stop it! You’ll be sorry,” Isabella spouted.

  “Kinder, that is enough.” The sternness in Amadeus’s voice stopped them.

  Cooped up inside for days, the children’s bickering had increased. Awnya thought they needed a distraction. “Amadeus.”

  “Ja?”

  “Could we do a Christmas treasure hunt for the children?”

  All three sets of eyes brightened. “Yeah.”

  “I tell you what. If you nap, Awnya und I vill get it ready.”

  “Ahhh, do we have to?” Jakob and Isabella whined in unison.

  “Ja. Und you have to stop fighting, or no hunt.” He and Awnya eyed each silent child.

  “Okay. Forget it then.” Amadeus turned to walk away.

  “No. No. We’ll do it.” Isabella glared at her brothers, who quickly nodded their assent.

  “Okay. Off to bed then.”

  “I join you, ja?” Louissa set her mending in the basket and stood. All four headed into their grandma’s room.

  Amadeus gathered paper and an inkwell. He and Awnya sat at the table and got busy making the clues.

  “How did your father come to live in Grand County?” Awnya asked.

  He stopped working on the clues and turned his attention onto her. If she wasn’t mistaken, sadness had shifted through his eyes for a brief moment before returning to normal. “Papa’s brothers come to America from Austria. They spoke often about the beautiful mountains in Colorado, und how friendly the people in Grand County were, und how ranching und raising cattle had prospered them. They encouraged Papa to join them, und he did.”

  “Where are your uncles now?”

  “Over the ridge north of my place.” He laid the wooden cross she’d watched him construct on the table and looked at her. “You never say where you live.”

  “Our … I mean my cabin.” She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath,fighting back the tears.

  “Ah meine weihnachtsgeschenk.” He stood and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. His heartbeat pulsed through her ears. “Is hard losing a loved one.”

  The grief was so heavy, and she had carried it alone for so very long. She lost her fight not to weep.

  Amadeus held her close while she soaked his shirt with her tears. After she had her cry, she gazed up at him. “I miss him so much. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. Or how I’ll survive out here alone.”

  He cupped her chin. “Ah, liebling, you’re not alone. The Lord is with you, und am I.”

  She didn’t know what he meant by “und am I,” nor did she have a chance to ask because warm lips joined hers, covering her with the sweetest feeling she’d ever known. She slipped her arms around his waist, liking how they felt there.

  Salty tears trickled between their lips, but Amadeus didn’t seem to mind because he continued to kiss her.

  The need for comfort drove her further into his embrace until she couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began. She imitated the movement of his lips, caressing them like he did hers. She drew comfort and strength from his nearness and his kiss. Coming to her senses, she pulled back.

  Amadeus blinked. His insides trembled. Except for his wife, no other woman had affected him like this. He loved and missed his wife, but it was time to move on. Time to love again. And Awnya could very well be that love.

  She stepped out of his embrace. “We’d better get these clues finished before the children wake up.” Her voice sounded deeper than normal.

  “Ja. You are right.”

  They sat down and got to work on the treasure hunt.

  “I’m not sure where my home is,” she said as if it wasn’t even her talking.

  Amadeus frowned. What did she mean she knew not where her home was?

  “You asked me earlier where my cabin is. Truth is, I’m not sure. I was so hungry I didn’t pay attention to where or how far I’d traveled.”

  “Ah.” He rubbed his chin. “I know these parts good. Describe your place, und I vill see if I can figure out where it is.”

  “There’s a small waterfall on the place with a rustic bridge where you can stand and watch the water running over the rocks, and trees growing down through the middle of it. The house is small but long. The whole front of it has a covered porch with white poles supporting it. The windows are painted white, and so is the front door. Unlike your cabin, the house was built using hog trough joints.”

  “How did you know that?” Amadeus interrupted her.

  “Pa told me what they were.” She smiled sheepishly.

  “Ah. I see. Und what else?” he asked even though he knew exactly what house it was now—the very one he had purchased for his cousins, who were to arrive in America come springtime. But just in case there was the slightest chance he was wrong, he would keep that information to himself and not upset Awnya needlessly. Once he got all the facts straight, only then would he tell her.

  “Much better.” His mother shuffled her way to her rocking chair near the fireplace.

  “Papa. Can we come out now?” Isabella’s voice floated to him.

  “Nein. Not yet, liebchen. We have to hide the clues. I tell you when we are ready.”

  “Okay.”

  They hurried to place the clues around the cabin.

  “Okay. You can come now.”

  All three barreled into the kitchen, bringing a smile to Amadeus’s face. Seeing their joy brought him joy. Excitement filled the atmosphere as their eyes traveled around the room.

  “Look at me. I vill tell you where to start. You must work together.” He handed Isabella the first clue because she was the only one who could read well.

  “Green is my color; I represent life. You’ll find me close to where Oma keeps her bread knife.” All three heads turned toward the knife hanging near the breadboard counter. “Look for something green.” Isabella took charge. They ran over and searched the area.

  “There it is!” Ethan hollered. Halfway down on the left side of the breadboard counter was the stiff Christmas tree Awnya had made by dipping the green yarn in flour paste. Attached to it was the next clue. Their faces beamed, bringing another smile to his face.

  Isabella removed the clue and read, “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. You need me to give off light.”

  “The windows.” Jakob rushed to the windows closest to the front door and checked them while the other two scurried to check the others.

  “I don’t see anything here,” Jakob said, walking over to Ethan. “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “You, Izzy?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Wait. I got it. Lanterns are bright, and we need them.”

  They inspected the two sitting on the table and the one near the fireplace. Finding no clue, they frowned.

  “Let’s see.” Isabella tipped her head. “What else gives off light?” Her brows darted upward. “Candles.”

  Ethan ran to Amadeus’s bedroom. “I found it.” He rushed out to Isabella and Jakob.

  “I’m up in the sky only at night, but can sometimes be seen in the daylight.”

  “Huh?” Isabella looked at Amadeus.

  “Just think, liebchen.” He scanned the ceiling, letting his eyes linger on the star above him.

  The children followed his movement. “There it is!” Isabella pointed to the star hanging in the center of the loft. The boys climbed the ladder and removed it then scurried down and gave it to their sister.

  “My insides appear silver, and I was first made in Germany in the shape of a fruit or a nut. Only you cannot eat me, or your mouth will I cut.”

  They wrinkled their noses then put their heads together, discussing what it could be. They came out of their huddle. “Papa, we don’t have any idea what this is.”

  “Okay. Go to the steamer trunk und look inside. Find a small wooden box hidden at the bottom, but do not shake or drop it.”

  They rushed to the trunk and
knelt down. When they found the wooden box, they opened it and removed three pieces of cloth.

  “Oh, Papa. These are beautiful.” Isabella glanced at him then back at the ornaments.

  “What are they?” Awnya asked.

  “Bring them here, liebchen.”

  “Oh, those are beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them before.” Awnya ran her fingers over the blown-glass ornaments shaped like nuts and fruits.

  “They come from Germany. My grossmutter sent them to my children for Christmas.” He held one up for each of them to inspect. “See how the inside looks silver.”

  Each one took a turn admiring them before putting them back into the trunk. The children continued their treasure hunt until only one clue remained.

  “You can’t have one without the other to be the greatest gift of all. We are the true meaning of Christmas.” Isabella frowned. “This one doesn’t rhyme, Papa.”

  “I know, daughter.” He gathered all three children to himself. “Meine kinder, when you remember what the greatest gift of all is und the true meaning of Christmas, you vill find your last clue und the real treasure.”

  Without hesitating, they went to the manger scene. Lying in the cradle with baby Jesus was a heart and the wooden cross Amadeus had made. No note accompanied it.

  His children reverently removed baby Jesus, then the cross, and then the heart and brought them to him.

  Awnya sniffed beside him.

  He blinked to keep his own tears. Pride and love swelled his chest. His children understood the true meaning of Christmas—that Christ’s birth, death, and resurrection was the greatest love gift ever given.

  Moments of reverential silence passed before Amadeus retrieved his children’s treasure gifts. “This is why we give gifts at Christmas, to remember the greatest gift of all. Jesus.” He handed the boys each a small bag of the alabaster marbles he had played with as a boy and Isabella his wife’s American Bible.

  Isabella whirled and fled the room.

  Amadeus followed her into her bedroom. “Liebchen, was ist los?”

  His daughter, still so small but growing into her own wisdom, stood huddled over the gift. “It’s mama’s, right?”

  “Ja, und I want you to have it.”

  She hugged the Bible to her chest. Tears spilled from her eyes. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll treasure it always.”

  “I know you vill, liebchen.” He gathered his daughter into his arms, and tears slid down his cheeks as she wept.

  The next evening, still touched by the children’s understanding of Christmas, Awnya wanted to do something special for them. The joy on their faces when they’d found the clues had brought both joy and sadness to her—joy at being a part of their lives during those brief moments, and sadness from knowing when the weather cleared, she would have to go home to an empty house. If only …

  No. She would not allow her mind to drift that direction. She wasn’t their mother and never would be.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Before Amadeus had a chance, Awnya opened the door and stepped outside. Cold stung her cheeks and bit into her spine. She shook a chill.

  “Sure you want to do this, leibling?” Amadeus asked from behind her.

  “Yes. I’m sure.” She glanced at the different shades of yellow and pink surrounding the sun, which was minutes away from disappearing behind the mountain.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered.

  “She sure is.”

  She? Awnya looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at the sunset, but at her.

  Nothing more was said. They made their way to Amadeus’s workshop.

  Amadeus unlocked the door and stepped inside. He lit two lanterns and hung them on their hooks, then moved aside for her to enter.

  Inside the cramped room, waist-high benches lined two walls. Each had a pinewood stool in front of it. Tools of various kinds hung on pegs above each bench. In one corner of the bench, a cloth covered something. On the floor between the two benches sat a large wooden box.

  Amadeus raised the lid, pulled out a bag, and dumped the contents onto the bench.

  “Oh, how lovely.” She picked up one of the wooden carved farm animals and turned it over, admiring the detail on the horse. “You made these?”

  “Ja.”

  She counted. “Two horses, four cows, six sheep, two dogs, and two cats.”

  “I have the barn und the fences yet to make for the boys.”

  “And Isabella?” She let the question hang between them.

  He reached over and raised the cloth.

  Awnya gasped, and he smiled. “What a beautiful cradle.” She tilted her head and frowned. “I don’t remember seeing any dolls. Does she have one?”

  “Ja.” His smile dropped. “My wife made it, but Isabella carried it all the time, und now it barely holds together. She put it in her trunk und vill not play with it, afraid it vill fall apart completely.”

  “Can it be mended?”

  “Perhaps. But mama’s hands do not work like they once did. She struggles to get done the mending.”

  “She should have said something. I could do the mending for her.”

  “Nein. It keeps her mind busy. She enjoys it.”

  Awnya played with her lip as a plan formulated in her mind. “Do you think Isabella would mind if I repaired her doll?”

  His face brightened. “You think you could?”

  “I would love to look at it and see.”

  “Tomorrow, I sneak it here, ja?”

  “Ja,” Awnya said without thinking.

  They laughed.

  Amadeus stepped closer and clutched her shoulders gently. His eyes seized hers. “That is very kind of you, leibling. Vielen dank.”

  “Feeling donk?” She tilted her head.

  “Ja. It means, thank you very much.”

  “Oh.” The softness in his eyes drew her into their depths, holding her captive. “You’re welcome,” she whispered.

  His head lowered, and Awnya’s stomach fluttered with the wings of a thousand hummingbirds.

  Cool lips captured hers, warming her insides, making it difficult to stand. His arms, strong and comforting, pressed about her, supporting her as his lips tenderly caressed her mouth. She sighed contentedly. She could get used to this.

  Chapter 5

  Three days before Christmas and still unable to travel down the mountain to deliver his dairy products, Amadeus noticed his mother’s puckered forehead. Her hands played with the rocking chair arm, worry scrawled on her face. The children’s constant bickering over who got what marble was obviously getting on her nerves. She would never complain or say anything because she loved them dearly, so he needed to do something to ease her discomfort.

  “Meine kinder, how would you like to get our Christmas tree today instead of waiting until Christmas Eve?”

  The lines on Mama’s forehead softened. The children jumped up.

  “Wait! Your toys pick up first, und then we vill go.”

  Toys disappeared off the floor in record time. Hats, coats, gloves were ripped from lower hooks near the front door. He turned his attention away from them and onto Awnya. Her face held the same anticipation as his children. “Would you like to come, Awnya?”

  “No,” Isabella said, stopping with only one arm in her coat. “I don’t want her to come, Papa.”

  He opened his mouth to rebuke his daughter, but Awnya’s voice stopped him. “I would love to, but I don’t want to interfere, so I’ll stay here and keep Louissa company.”

  “Nonsense. We want you to come. Right, kinder?” Amadeus sent his daughter a warning glance.

  Isabella put on a pout but said no more.

  “Yeah. We want you to come with us.” Jakob and Ethan beamed their replies.

  Jakob ran over to Awnya. “Please. Come with us.” He tugged her hand until she stood.

  “If you’re sure …” Though her face showed obvious reluctance, she allowed Jakob to pull her along. She slipped into he
r outside garments.

  Amadeus silently thanked God that Awnya could not see the look of disdain his daughter shot her way. He considered saying something about it but felt it best not to. He still did not know why Isabella disliked the woman so. Every time he had asked, pain filled his daughter’s eyes, and she told him she did not know why. Because his feelings for Awnya were growing stronger every day, he could only hope that in time Isabella would come to love her.

  Awnya followed the children outside. Large fluffy snowflakes floated gently from the heavens. She opened her mouth to catch them on her tongue. They still tasted like candy to her.

  “What you doing?” Ethan asked.

  “Catching snowflakes.”

  “Why?”

  Awnya glanced down at him. “Haven’t you ever caught snowflakes on your tongue before?”

  “Um, uh-uh.” He shook his head.

  “Try it.”

  Ethan tipped his head back and opened his mouth. He yanked his head one way, then another, then leaped into the air. Within seconds, Jakob, Isabella, and even Amadeus joined him.

  Awnya laughed at the scene before her. Not at the children, but at the gentle giant with his tongue stuck out, lapping up snowflakes.

  The children ran ahead of them, giggling and chasing snowflakes with their mouths wide open, disappearing out of their sight. Laughter poured from somewhere deep in Awnya. She hadn’t done much laughing since her pa’s death. It felt good, so she let it roll out of her even more.

  “You think that is funny, ja?”

  “Ja,” she said through a titter.

  Amadeus chuckled, and quick as a bolt of lightning he knotted a snowball and tossed it at her. It splattered on her bearskin coat just above her knee.

  Under his hat she could see his eyebrows dancing up and down in challenge to her.

  “Why you …” Awnya grabbed a snowball and hit him in the arm. Again and again they hit each other with snowballs.

  Awnya bent down to make another just as Amadeus’s large hand encircled her waist and swung her body toward a deep snowbank. “Oh-h-h no you don’t.” She yanked his arm, pulling him into the drift with her. She grabbed a handful of snow and smeared his face with it, giggling.