Log Cabin Christmas

by Margaret Brownley

  He scooped a handful of white powder and aimed it toward her face. “No, no.” She wiggled and giggled until her cheeks hurt from smiling, and her heart pumped from the exertion.

  “What vill you give me if I don’t?” His smile dimpled, one of his eyebrows rose, and his gaze slid to her lips then jumped to her eyes. “A kiss, ja?”

  She peered around, making sure the children were still out of sight.

  “Ja? A kiss?” she mimicked him. She raised her lips to his, and right before their lips touched, she swerved and kissed his cheek, leaped up, and ran into the woods, where his children were having their own snowball fight.

  He caught up with her. His warm breath sent shivers skittering up and down her spine. “I vill collect later, meine weihnachtsgeschenk.”

  She sure hoped so.

  Amadeus fought the urge to steal a real kiss from Awnya. With his children nearby, that would not be good. But later perhaps. No. Definitely later. He grinned inwardly.

  Together they traipsed through the snow, looking over several trees until the children found the one they wanted.

  “Can you hurry, Papa? We’re cold.” Isabella cupped her hands and blew into them.

  “I am almost done, liebchen.” Within minutes he had the tree felled. Amadeus dragged the tree behind him as they weaved their way back through aspens and pines.

  Inside the cabin, Amadeus set the tree while Awnya helped his mother fix hot toddies. He smiled when his mother explained that for medicinal purposes only—like a fever—she would add a hint of whiskey to the hot water, lemon juice, and honey tea mixture.

  They sat in front of the fireplace and warmed their bodies, sipping their drinks. When they finished, Amadeus leaned forward in his rocker. “You ready to decorate the tree?” He eyed everyone, leaving no one out.

  The boys jumped up and nodded until he thought their necks would break, but Isabella remained seated, staring into the fire.

  “You coming?” he asked Isabella.

  “No.” She crossed her arms and shot daggers Awnya’s way. She slung herself around, placing her back to them.

  “As you wish, daughter.”

  Awnya’s questioning eyes darted between him and Isabella. He laid his hands on her shoulders, turned her toward the kitchen, and gave her a light push.

  She joined his mama at the table, but his boys clung to each side of him.

  He opened the small box of ornaments he had retrieved earlier. “Who wishes to go first?”

  Awnya was so glad he’d encouraged her to join them. She couldn’t wait to be a part of the tree decorating. She didn’t know what he meant by who wishes to go first, but she’d wait her turn.

  Jakob and Ethan pulled out an ornament.

  “Ethan, you go first,” Jakob offered.

  “Thanks.” Ethan held up one of the clothespin ornaments she’d helped them make. It had a white dress and long hair made from yarn. “This reminds me of Awnya. I’m grateful God sent her here.” He spoke softly.

  Awnya’s heart hitched. He looked shyly at her, and she smiled her approval.

  She took a peek Amadeus’s way. His eyes twinkled like the night stars, and his lips curled upward, warming her heart and overflowing it with love for this family.

  “Und you, Jakob?”

  “What I have to be grateful for this Christmas is …” He held up a heart ornament. “That you always taught us, Papa, that God is love, and I love Awnya and want her to be my mama.”

  Heat rose into her cheeks. She slid her gaze toward Amadeus. He winked, and her heart responded with a wink of its own.

  Amadeus pulled out two ornaments, a handmade angel and a small wrapped box. “This Christmas I, too, am thankful that God sent us an angel. She is meine weihnachtsgeschenk.”

  “Your Christmas gift!” Jakob said. “Can she be ours, too?”

  “Can she, huh, Papa?” Ethan jumped in. The hopeful look in the boys’ eyes shoved a longing through her heart.

  “We vill see. Who is next? Awnya?”

  She picked a snowman ornament, and while she hung it on a high branch, she said, “I’m grateful for the snowstorm that led me to all of you and for snowball fights.”

  “Snowball fights?”

  “Yes.” She and Amadeus shared a secret twinkling look.

  “Your turn, Mama.”

  Louissa said what she was grateful for and hung her ornament.

  Jakob picked up a daddy ornament. “I’m glad I have a daddy who loves me.” After he hung the ornament, he threw his arms around Amadeus.

  The scene made Awnya lonesome for her ma and pa. Seeing the ornaments finished, she excused herself and headed to the fireplace. Sometimes the sorrow was so very heavy in her heart.

  Isabella stood, glared at her, and then darted to the table.

  Awnya’s gaze traveled over the mantel lined with evergreen branches and red bows up to the cutout North Star hanging below the rifle—the one that looked exactly like her pa’s. She glanced behind her to make sure no one was watching. Awnya stepped as close to the fire as possible and studied the gun. Her heart sank when her gaze landed on the initials SPO—Seamus Patrick O’Crean. Dear God, no.

  “You look pale. What is wrong, Awnya?”

  Awnya jumped at Amadeus’s nearness. She looked into his concerned blue eyes. What to do? What to do? Her heart yanked her backward and forward—forward toward the man she’d come to love and backward as far away as possible from the man who could possibly have taken her pa’s life.

  Chapter 6

  Under the clear blue sky Amadeus harnessed the horses to the sled wagon. He loaded the back with dairy products and a two-month supply of food for Awnya. He stopped and rested his hand on the wagon. Ever since last night, Awnya had seemed different. Distant. He’d asked what was wrong, but everything was fine, she’d insisted repeatedly as they had worked on the toys. But if that were true, then why was she so eager for him to take her home?

  “I’m ready.” The object of his thoughts appeared behind him.

  The idea of her being alone tonight ate at his gut. “Are you sure you want to go home, Awnya? You can stay here with us.” He opened his mouth to say she could marry him, but her words cut him off.

  “I want to go home, Amadeus. I need time alone. To think. To pray.”

  “Nothing I could say would change your mind?”

  “No.”

  “Even if I asked you to marry me?”

  “Marry you?” Her eyes widened, but a shadow fell over her face. “No. I’m sorry, Amadeus. I can’t marry you. Please understand I must do this.”

  He understood, but like it he did not. However, he would give her the time she needed. He nodded his agreement, even though his heart wanted to convince her to stay. How could he refuse her request? With a heavy sigh, he helped her into the wagon.

  The silence on the way to the stage stop screamed a warning in his ears that something more than needing time to think and pray was at work here. But he had no idea what.

  He dropped off his dairy supplies. Knowing what he had to do next broke his heart. He listened as she gave him directions to her place. All the way there, Amadeus struggled with leaving her alone. Defenseless. Unprotected. God show me what to do. I cannot bear to leave her there. To let her go.

  He drove the team into the yard. Having been so upset about taking her home, it had slipped his mind that he was taking her to the same place he had purchased for his relatives. The second he saw it that thought returned, and his suspicions were confirmed.

  If he told her now, it would solve his problem. She would have no choice but to marry him. But he did not wish her to marry him because she had no choice. No, he would not speak of it until he checked with the deeds office to find out just who did own this property, him or Awnya.

  Until then, against his better judgment and wishes, he needed to hurry and get Awnya settled. Three hours of daylight would barely give him enough time to get unloaded and back home before dark.

  He leaped out
of the wagon and helped Awnya down. Drifted snow blocked her doorway. He grabbed a shovel, cleared a path to her front door, and reached for the handle.

  “Please let me. Just give me a minute alone, okay?”

  “Ja. I vill make a path to the firewood und bring you some.”

  “Thank you.” Her green eyes locked onto his. Disturbing questions lingered in them. Questions he hoped she would voice. But she did not. Instead she put her back to him, slipped inside the cabin, and closed the door.

  Awnya stepped inside and gasped. Her gaze darted wildly about the place. The only thing left in the one-room cabin was the tattered sheet that separated her bedroom from the rest of the cabin and a small field of dead mice lying about. Pa’s traps, his handmade furniture, all her mother’s dishes, everything, including the potbelly stove, was gone.

  She shoved away and ran to her bedroom, ripping back the curtain. Empty. Just like the rest of the cabin. “No-o-o!” she screamed. “Not Mama’s Bible.” Her most cherished possession was gone. She slid to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, and wailed. The only tangible link to her ma now was the elk tooth necklace.

  Awnya tugged on the chain around her neck and hugged the polished keepsake to her cheek, wetting it with her tears. Never before had she felt so alone or abandoned. Forsaken even. “God, why?” she screamed.

  The door was flung open. “Awnya!” Amadeus’s gaze flew around the empty room before he ran to her. Dropping on the ground, he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her head into his chest and sobbed as her heart broke inside her.

  After her tears abated, Amadeus helped her up and wrapped his arm snugly around her. “Come. I vill take you home.”

  Overcome with grief and knowing there was no way she could even heat her barren home, she numbly allowed him to lead her to his wagon.

  As they headed out, she turned in the wagon seat and took one last look at the place she had called home. Just as her cabin was now disappearing from hersight, her faith in a loving God slipped into the empty void. How could He allow this on top of everything else she had suffered? Wasn’t losing her parents enough? Why had He abandoned her to the wolves of nothingness and want?

  Pain unlike any she had ever known crowded into her heart. She faced forward and laid her hands in her lap. “I don’t understand. I prayed and believed God to heal my mother, to protect my pa and my home, and He didn’t. Why did He let me down? How can I ever trust Him again?”

  Amadeus glanced at her, his face placid. “By faith alone, leibling.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The wagon slid forward as Amadeus sighed, his countenance growing heavy. “When my wife died, I struggled with my faith also.”

  That got her full attention. “You did?”

  “Ja. Like you, I prayed to God und believed He would heal her. To this day I do not know why He did not. But what I do know is, during that time I learned that real faith is not about getting every prayer answered the way I think it should be. Real faith says I trust God even though I do not understand why He does what He does und even though things did not turn out the way I thought they should.

  “I discovered that faith does not always see my desired results, but it continues to hope anyway. It continues to trust God even in the midst of the times when I don’t see Him. Like it says in Hebrews chapter eleven verse one. Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Faith is the thing what gives you hope und keeps you going when things look impossible.” He reached for her hand. “Without faith, what else do you have, leibling?”

  The memory of the stark empty cabin drove through her, and she put her head down. “Nothing. But right now, I’m having a hard time seeing it. I’ve just been robbed of everything I ever held dear to me. I have nothing left of my family. Right now, I don’t have even the smallest amount of hope.”

  “You vill, leibling. You vill. Trust me?”

  Her heart snagged on that. Could she trust the man who had her pa’s rifle hanging in his cabin?

  Christmas Eve Day. Where had the time gone? Since bringing Awnya back to live with them, even though she did not talk much and had lost some of her joy, having her around all the time warmed Amadeus’s heart and filled the lonely hours he had endured since his wife’s death. Today, he would ask her to marry him, not to fix things for her or for himself, but because he loved her with all of his heart. This time, he hoped she would accept.

  In tandem, they loaded the wagon and headed down the mountain. The closer they got to town, the less snow they had to traverse. It amazed Amadeus what a difference a few miles made. Up at his place there was several feet of snow, and down here there was maybe three to four inches.

  He pulled his wagon into town. Before he dropped off his dairy supplies, he decided to make a quick stop to check on the deed to his cousin’s place. He pulled in front of small building that resembled a house more than a business. “Wait here. This vill only take a minute.”

  Awnya nodded.

  Within seconds he had his answer. Amadeus climbed back onto the wagon next to Awnya. He needed to figure out a way to break the devastating news to her gently. Until then, he had supplies that needed delivering.

  While he dropped off his dairy products, his gaze chanced across the snow-packed street, and he did a double take. The peddler from whom he had bought the buckshot rifle was standing only yards away, selling his goods to the locals.

  “Amadeus, do you mind if we stop a minute? I want to say hello to Mr. Cane, that nice man Pa bought the cabin from.” She pointed toward the same man who had sold him the rifle.

  His gut jerked. “You sure that is him?”

  “Yes. I’m positive. Please can we stop? I won’t be but a minute. I promise.”

  With a quick pull on the reins, Amadeus turned the horses around the corner and reined them to a stop. There was no way to break the news gently and no more time to put off telling her. “Awnya, we need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound angry.”

  “Forgive me, but I must be blunt. The rifle above my fireplace. Those initials on it are your pa’s, ja?”

  Fear and uncertainty flashed through her eyes. “Ja. I mean, yes.”

  He pulled her hands into his, needing the connection to her when he told her what he must. “I bought that rifle from the traveling peddler.”

  “Mr. Cane?”

  “Ja.”

  “I don’t understand. How did he get Pa’s rifle?”

  “That is what I am about to find out. But first, there is something else you need to know. You say your pa bought your cabin from him. When?”

  “Four months ago. I watched him pay for it. Why?” She frowned.

  “Because from the owners, I buy that same place. Mr. Cane never owned it. The Martins did.”

  “No. That can’t be. Pa had the deed. I saw it. He kept it in Ma’s Bible.” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s gone now, too.”

  “I am sorry, leibling, but the deed he gave him was a fake.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “That’s what I was doing when I asked you to wait.”

  “You knew?”

  “I had my suspicions.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” A shield of hurt fell across her eyes.

  “Because I’d hoped I was wrong. Plus, I wanted to make sure that the deed I have wasn’t a counterfeit, too. But the place, the Martins did own, und the deed I have is genuine.” Amadeus found no pleasure in knowing he wasn’t the one who had been tricked. For Awnya’s sake, he wished it had been him. Then using his own money, he would have purchased another place for his cousins. There was only one thing to do now. “Come, liebling, we need to talk to the sheriff.”

  Awnya couldn’t believe her ears. Her body went numb. What else could go wrong? At least before, she thought she could sell the cabin and make enough money to live on until she decided what to do next and where to go. Desperation squeezed her heart, res
tricting its blood flow, making her feel dizzy.

  What had Amadeus said about faith when things looked impossible or we don’t understand why? Well, impossible was staring her down right now, and she couldn’t think of how things could get any worse than they already were.

  Amadeus helped her down from the wagon. Careful to stay out of the peddler’s sight, they made their way to the jail.

  Too upset and nervous to sit while Amadeus told the sheriff everything, Awnya paced the room, looking it over but never seeing anything until her eyes fell on a wanted poster.

  “I’ve never seen any peddler around here befor—”

  “That’s him!” Awnya blurted, cutting off the sheriff’s words. She pointed to the poster.

  Amadeus and the sheriff both yanked their attention that direction.

  WANTED DEAD O ALIVE

  NOTORIOUS OUTLAW WILLY PRATT WANTED FOR FORGERY OF LEGAL DOCUMENTS, ROBBERY, AND MURDER REWARD $500

  “You know where this man is?”

  “Ja. Here.” Amadeus answered for her.

  “Where?”

  Amadeus led the sheriff to the window. He scanned the street and pointed him out.

  “You stay here,” the sheriff ordered Amadeus and Awnya. He loaded his rifle and headed out the door.

  Minutes ticked away like hours. She fidgeted with her hands.

  “It vill be okay, liebling. Have faith.”

  She nodded, but it wasn’t easy.

  The door opened, and in stepped the sheriff with a handcuffed Mr. Cane. Rather, Willy Pratt. In amazement, Awnya listened as the sheriff pulled information out of the old sidewinder—how he had sold land to her pa, land he didn’t own.

  “Yeah, I killed the old man.” The devilish gleam in Cane’s eyes sent shudders of revulsion through Awnya.

  She put her hand over her mouth as her stomach threatened to empty its contents. Amadeus tucked her under his shoulder and away from the evil staring her down.

  “Got a pretty penny for them pelts he had on him, too. And his rifle and his horse. Yep …” He continued to boast about how he had emptied their meat shed and cabin and how he had sold most of its contents in another town.