Jedediah spoke first. “Please let me say thank you for your prayers. Silas and Alo and Kent were good to come and take care of us. And you were so good to pray. We’re most grateful.” He turned to Beth, who chimed in.
“Yes, we are, and we hope we’re not crashing your party. Since we can’t get out to join our family up in the mountains, Maude invited us to join you. So thank you for allowing us to celebrate Christmas with you.”
Lily stepped up beside Silas. “Yes, you have joined the most Unlikely Christmas Party ever. Such an unexpected Christmas for all of us. And I must say, we’ll be telling stories about this one for a spell.”
The rumble around the room was proof of everyone’s agreement with Lily.
Silas motioned for the Klingmans to have a seat, and joined Maude as everyone found a place at the table.
Lily looked at the number of settings at the table and turned to Maude. “Maude, are you expecting someone else, or have you lost the ability to count?”
“Well, sometimes, my counting is not as good as it used to be, but tonight I counted correctly. And to answer your question, no, we are not expecting another guest this evening. But we’ll have a place for the Christ Child—or maybe someone else if a stranger happens by.” She looked at Greg. “Greg, would you please express our gratitude for the day, and for the food, and for being together, and most especially for the miracle of Christmas?”
Greg stood at his place. “Maude, I think you just did that, but it will be a privilege to say it again. Thank you for asking.”
Once Greg had prayed and taken his seat, the guests awaited the announcement of Lita’s Christmas fare. She stood behind Kent’s chair with her hands on his shoulders.
“This is just for you, Kent. Laura and I have prepared for you this evening our traditional Hopi Christmas Eve dinner, beginning with a Christmas salad of Bibb lettuce, pickled beets, prickly pears, pine nuts, red onions, and sliced avocado, dressed with a vinaigrette with my secret spices.” She pinched Kent’s shoulder. “For your main course, I hope you’ll enjoy a venison rump roast that has been marinated and slow cooked in more secret spices. A medley of roasted root vegetables with sweet potatoes, parsnips, leeks, carrots, and onion will accompany the venison and will be served atop a cheesy polenta. And of course, dessert—Mexican Hot Chocolate Trifle. Need I say more?”
“All this just for Christmas Eve? Oh, Lita, you’re too good to be true.” Kent reached up with his good hand and squeezed Lita’s hand on his shoulder.
With the music of Christmas in the background, the room soon filled with the clatter of silverware and the sounds of many hungry diners digging in. Conversations continued around the table throughout the meal, along with laughter. Gazing around the table, Silas thought back to the last time this room had been filled with Christmas Eve cheer. So many years gone by. When he caught Maude’s eye, he knew she was thinking the same thing. Her eyes glistened, and he gripped her hand a moment in acknowledgment before diving back into his meal.
When everyone was finished and the table was cleared, Lily stood for her evening announcements.
“Listen, people. I’m sure you’ll agree this meal was nothing short of fabulous. So why don’t we let the cooks know?”
Their applause and twirling of their napkins in the air put smiles on Laura’s and Lita’s faces.
“I also think we can agree that we would enjoy our dessert a little later, maybe after something Maude has planned for us. And while I have your attention, tomorrow is Christmas, and truly we could not be any happier at the Broadmoor than we are here at Grey Sage. We’re indeed having a most splendid Christmas holiday. I’ll keep an eye on the weather and give you plenty of warning for our departure. But we will spend tomorrow and tomorrow evening right here.
“Lita has informed me that coffee and a continental breakfast will be served at your leisure from seven thirty until eight in the morning. So, let’s move to the gathering room to see what she’s planned for this glorious Christmas Eve.”
With a chorus of conversations and jostling, everyone made their way to the adjoining room. After everyone was comfortably seated and Alo had the fire blazing, Maude orchestrated the storytelling once again, asking each guest to tell of one special Christmas. She then took her place beside Silas.
Ted told of exotic travel to Bethlehem during one of their Christmas breaks, but nothing of a childhood Christmas. Laura told of her sixteenth Christmas when her grandmother gave her an heirloom locket that had been in her family for six generations. The reverend entertained them with funny stories of his church’s Christmas pageants. Iris added her soft humor and detail to his renditions.
Reba recollected a Christmas when she was called away for an emergency to talk one of her patients “off the ledge,” but her best memory was of returning home to her husband and to Emily dressed in her Christmas nightgown. Emily added that it was a tradition for her to get a new Christmas nightgown every year. Reba had tucked every one of those gowns away in a cedar chest, and now Emily just added to it. She was saving the gowns for a daughter she hoped to have one day.
Silas sat quietly listening, but watching young Daniel as he sat on the floor at his father’s knee, totally captivated by all their stories. Silas couldn’t forget that the boy had just lost his dog, his best friend. He also didn’t like looking at the near-bare floor under the Christmas tree. Without Beatrice’s bags of candy, the floor would have been stone-cold, bare Saltillo tile.
When Emily finished her story, Maude stood up. “You people are walking treasure chests of beautiful stories, and I’m certain we could go on all evening. But for now, I have something special in mind. We have two pianists in this party, and I think it’s time for some music. While you were playing poker and backgammon and drawing pictures this afternoon, I was searching for our Christmas music book and these booklets.” She went to the piano and picked up a stack of green booklets and began passing them around. “So, Silas and Laura, what must we do to get you to play for us?”
Silas held up his hands. “Have you looked at my hands lately, Maude?”
Jedediah retorted quickly. “They did a mighty fine job of stitching up my scalp last evening, and I can imagine they still do a mighty fine job of tickling those ivories.”
Silas looked at Laura. “I think we must, Laura. Come join me, please?”
Maude sensed the entire room taking a breath, as if waiting to see how Laura would respond. They’d not forgotten her dismissal the last time she’d been asked.
They needn’t have worried. With a smile, Laura joined Silas at the piano, both of them sitting on the bench side by side.
Silas turned to the guests. “Here’s how this works. We only take requests, and then you must, and I mean must, sing. No singing? No playing. Understood?”
The guests began flipping through their song booklets, calling out their favorites. Silas and Laura took turns accompanying as everyone dutifully lifted their voices in song. Lily’s, not always in the same key as the others, could always be heard. She sang with the same exuberance she applied to painting or to blowing her whistle. Ted stared at her in disbelief, but Lily never knew. Maude held her breath when Beatrice rose and started to sway to “Silver Bells.” But after allowing her a moment, Henry gently coaxed her back to her seat. There would be no stumbling tonight.
After a hearty round of singing, Lita, with help from Iris, began serving coffee and chocolate trifle in crystal goblets. No sweeter time could be had as dessert replaced the music. Maude came from her seat and stood in front of the fireplace.
“Thank you, Laura and Silas. You have given us a grand evening of beautiful music.” She looked at Lily. “Well, it was beautiful most of the time.”
Ted’s laughter could be heard above the rest.
“And thank you, Lita, for chocolate!”
Silas and Laura begin to move from the piano. Maude stopped them. “Could you wait at the piano, Laura? But Silas, you may return to your chair and have your dessert.”
Laura sat back down.
Maude squeezed the book in her hand. “Many years ago, it was our custom to read the Christmas story from the second chapter of Luke at the end of our Christmas Eve family gathering right here in this room. With your permission, I’d like us to continue that tradition. I have asked the colonel to read this evening. And then Laura, you played “Silent Night” so beautifully—would you play a quiet meditation for us that would be our benediction to quite a lovely evening?”
Laura smiled and nodded in agreement from the piano.
Maude handed her worn leather Bible to the colonel, took her seat next to Silas, and reached for his hand.
The room was quiet and warm and resonating with good things—sweet memories, warm light, and satisfied faces. The colonel opened the Bible and began to read in a voice that could only be had by a gentleman who had lived long, in the voice and cadence of one familiar with this story, and with the conviction of one who could attest to a faith that had sustained him through pain and pleasure and ordinary days.
Sitting beside her, Silas knew Maude was reliving many Christmases in a matter of moments. As was he. His teary eyes followed every movement of young Daniel again, sitting at his father’s feet. He remembered how his boy Elan had sat with him to hear his grandfather read the same story. He remembered how much Elan had loved Christmas and how he’d spent what seemed like hours just staring at the tree and counting the gifts under it and then retelling the Christmas story with the olive-wood nativity set on the hearth.
His thoughts returned to the tree. Not one box wrapped in red foil and tied with a gold ribbon. Not one intriguing bundle awaiting discovery. Nothing but bare floor and an embarrassingly few bags of candy, which somehow made the floor look emptier and sadder and colder.
The colonel finished the reading. After a brief moment of holy hush, Laura mesmerized them with an ethereal and haunting improvisation of “Silent Night.” It was the soulful end to a perfect day at Grey Sage.
The guests said their “Merry Christmas” goodnights and trailed to their rooms—all except Emily and Kent, who didn’t move from the love seat. The roaring fire was now embers, and the house was quiet again.
Maude and Silas walked hand in hand to their bedroom. While Maude readied herself for bed, Silas built a small fire in the kiva in the corner. Only moments passed before they snuggled under the covers, enjoying the fire’s glow and the afterglow of a perfect evening. They recapped the day, then lapsed into silence, smiling to themselves about how good it felt to have the inn filled with a few old friends and many new ones. Silas felt a bit sorry that he had grumbled about having guests for Christmas. He was growing attached to a few of them.
Sleep was sweet.
Sunday, December 25
Christmas morning. No need to set the clock. Maude’s internal timer had been working precisely for decades, and this holiday had brought enough unexpected excitement to rouse her early. “Get up, Silas! It’s Christmas.”
Silas rolled over. “So you say it’s Christmas? Do you think they’re having a Christmas like this in Curaçao?”
Maude chuckled. “Don’t be facetious. We’ll still go to Curaçao one day. I’m just not certain when it will be.”
Silas was up now, and they made the bed the bed together. “I am.”
“You are. You’re what?”
He reached over to his nightstand, took up a piece of paper, and walked around the bed to Maude. “I know when we’re going.” He offered her the handwritten note.
She read it out loud. “Coupon good for ten days of sailing to Curaçao. The ship, with us on it, will embark from Fort Lauderdale on February second. Merry Christmas from your Traveling Companion.”
She looked up at him. “Is this what you were up to last night when you got up and left the room? Silas, you are the dearest man in all of time. We’re going to Curaçao.”
“We are indeed going to Curaçao, and Merry Christmas, my joy!”
With an exclamation, she embraced the man who had shared all but nine of her Christmases. “Thank you. You still know how to put a smile on my face. Let’s get dressed.”
Maude had laid out Silas’s shirt and sweater and her Christmas Day attire the night before—black wool slacks, her finest white blouse, the forest-green wool sweater Silas had bought for her in England a decade ago, and her favorite Christmas scarf, dripping in holly leaves and red berries. She dressed quickly, brushed and braided her long white hair, and coiled it into a bun high on her head. In a matter of minutes, they were decked out like the mannequins in Macy’s Christmas window and were walking arm in arm down the hall.
The smell of pine filled the hallway. Normally, the aroma of coffee and cinnamon buns would lure them to the kitchen, but Silas escorted Maude and took a detour through the gathering room. The Christmas tree lights were on and the fire had been started. Even though daybreak was sending rays of morning light through the glass panes, Alo had already lit every candle in every window and on the mantle. But what caught Maude’s eye was underneath the Christmas tree: No more bare floor.
She squeezed Silas’s arm as tears filled her eyes. “So that’s what you were up to last night when I thought you had indigestion from the secret spices in Lita’s vinaigrette.”
Silas kissed her cheek. “Well, it wasn’t exactly mischief I was up to, was it? Just trying to get rid of my Scroogey reputation.”
Maude smiled at him, trying to remember if there was ever a time she could have loved him more. There was no one in the world like her Silas.
There was no one in the world like his Maude, Silas thought as he embraced his wife. He’d worked on his surprise not for his Scroogey reputation, of course, but to see the look on her face just now. If he’d had any doubts about his plan, they were gone now.
He gave her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek. “Now, I need to check on Jedediah, to see how he is and to orchestrate the surprise this Christmas morning. Suppose you get us some coffee?”
With a last brilliant smile, she wiped her eyes and headed off while Silas tiptoed down the hall toward the Klingmans’ room. He lightly tapped on the door.
Jedediah answered, already dressed and looking like he needed a cup of coffee.
Silas motioned for him to come out into the hallway and close the door. “Still have a headache? Not feeling so good this morning?”
“Oh, no, sir, not me. I’m fine. I had to tell Daniel about Shep yesterday. He cried hard when I first told him. I think coming over here distracted him some, but when we got back to our room last night and things got quiet . . . Well, I think he had held it in as long as he could. Had a hard time consoling him and getting him to sleep. It was a long night.”
“Well, let’s go get you a cup of coffee.” They walked down the hallway. “I know about a boy losing his dog. We had a similar experience with our son, but at least it wasn’t on Christmas.”
“Yes, sir. And I need to find Shep and take care of things. I looked around when we walked by the barn yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t see him. I figured the wolves came back. I just don’t want Daniel finding him.”
Silas stopped just shy of the kitchen. “That’s already taken care of. You can thank Alo. He gave Shep a proper burial even with the snow. He’ll take you to the place when the time is right.”
“There’s no one like Alo. He’s good to me and to my boy, always teaching us so much about this land and living on it. He respects all living things, that man.”
“He’s good to us all.” Silas paused. “Now, I hate to switch subjects so quickly, but time is running out. I know you’ve already taken care of Santa Claus for Daniel, and you’ll be going home for that later this morning, but I wanted to do something that just might take Daniel’s mind off losing Shep for a little while. I hope it’s all right. Let me show you.” Silas led Jedediah to the gathering room. “It was something I needed to do. See?”
Jedediah’s face lit up as his eyes took in the sight before him. “Oh, wow, Sila
s. You’re right about keeping his mind off losing Shep. I have no words right now, sir.”
“That’s because you haven’t had your coffee. Let’s go get some. We can talk later. I just need you to keep Daniel in your room until I come and get you. I want everyone to see his surprise. Christmas just isn’t Christmas without a child around, and we are blessed to have one in the house this morning.”
Silas poured Jedediah a cup of coffee and one for Beth. “I’ll come and get you when everyone’s up and in the dining room. I don’t think it will be long. I’ve already heard folks moving around.”
Lita and Laura bustled about the kitchen, dressed in clean aprons. Laura stirred the fruit medley while Lita placed her sticky cinnamon buns on a large silver tray. Maude was also there, mixing up her special cream concoction to flavor the coffee.
Coming in ones and twos, guests gathered in the dining room, helping themselves to steaming coffee and fruit juice.
Lita heard them arriving. She wiped her hands and quickly stepped into the dining room. “Breakfast will be served in just a few minutes, but I think I heard someone ask about what’s underneath this.” She pointed to the green velvet cloth that Maude used for years of unveiling her Christmas paintings. It now covered something on the oak sideboard. “What can I say? It’s Christmas, and Christmas always comes with a few secrets and surprises. This will be unveiled at just the right time, but it is rigged to disappear if anyone takes a peek.”
Aahs went around the room.
Lita turned to walk away. “I wasn’t kidding. And the culprit will be sent to bed without Christmas dinner.” She sashayed out of the dining room, her apron strings trailing in the wind behind her.
A few moments later when everything was on the table and Lita stood ready, Maude said to Silas, “You might get the Klingmans and bring them in here now.”
Maude then turned to the group. “We have a real surprise this morning, so the plan is the surprise first, and then you’re free to get your breakfast and coffee at your leisure, and we’ll do our nibbling in the gathering room.”
Christmas at Grey Sage Page 20
