The Widower's Christmas Wish

by Cheryl Wright

  Her mother went about her business, and totally ignored her daughter. So that’s what Charlotte decided to do.

  She wiped at her face, picked up the basket and went outside, intent on collection the eggs from the hen house. The minute the front door slammed, the screaming stopped.

  Charlotte continued to the hen house.

  When she got there, she looked back toward the house, only to see two little eyes staring out at her.

  Emma rubbed the tears from her eyes, and her Mama felt bad.

  But only for a few moments. She realized this was not her fault, but the child’s bad behavior that caused the problem.

  She quickly turned away and went about her business – collecting up the eggs. Emma’s most favorite thing to do.

  Charlotte realized she’d become attached to the tiny girl in such a short time. Her heart was breaking that she was missing out on collecting the eggs from secret hiding places, as Emma called them, but she had a lesson to learn.

  A tear trickled down her face. Being a parent was no easy task, as she was beginning to discover.

  “Mama!” The little voice called to her from the porch. “I want to do that.”

  Charlotte swallowed. This was so hard. “Too late, Emma. You didn’t want to come outside, so I did it myself.” She had to stiffen her resolve and not let the child see how upset she was.

  “But Mama...” Emma burst into tears. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, not to cry in front of the small child.

  Charlotte lifted her skirts against the filth of the hen house, and continued her task, then returned to the house.

  Emma flung herself at her Mama the moment she returned. Putting the basket aside, Charlotte comforted the child. “Perhaps next time you’ll do what you’re told,” she said, her voice breaking.

  She was rewarded with a big hug, despite the sobs.

  “Let’s go and make a cake for Papa. We have lots of eggs.”

  Emma looked up at her with big blue eyes. Eyes that echoed her father’s. “All right,” she said with a wobbly voice, a stray tear trickling down her little face.

  Charlotte sighed. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed from only a week ago.

  * * *

  “Chocolate cake,” Angus said. “My favorite, especially when it’s made by my two favorite girls.”

  Emma looked up at him and scowled. “Mama collected the eggs for the cake, she wouldn’t let me.”

  She stomped her foot and pouted.

  “But that’s your favorite thing to do,” he said, none too pleased. He glared at Charlotte.

  She gasped.

  She sat at the table and began to explain in a way Emma would also understand. “Emma was a very naughty girl today, and had a tantrum,” she said. “She refused to go outside, and Mama had to collect the eggs instead.”

  His face softened. “You were being tested,” he said quietly so Emma couldn’t hear. “She’s seeing how far she can push you.” He grinned. “It sounds like you handled it beautifully.”

  He reached for a slice of chocolate cake. Charlotte slapped his hand. “Not now,” she said playfully. “It’s for supper.”

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “And what about after supper. Do you have something special for me then?”

  They still hadn’t consummated their marriage, and Charlotte knew it was wrong to keep him waiting. She was scared, even after what Abigail had told her.

  She now knew it was natural, and how you got babies, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. Even with her handsome husband.

  She bit her lip, and felt his hand cover hers. “I promise not to hurt you, Charlotte,” he said, and she nodded.

  She dished up supper while Angus supervised Emma washing her hands. She knew she couldn’t continue to avoid it.

  Tomorrow was Sunday, and it didn’t seem right to consummate their marriage on the Lord’s day. She resolved to let him have his way with her that night.

  * * *

  Emma was tucked up and asleep in bed, and Charlotte could see the anticipation in Angus’s eyes. There was no more avoiding it. They’d been married for nearly a week now and she’d not let him touch her in that way.

  She began to undress for bed, but unlike other nights, he didn’t leave the room.

  “Let me help you with that,” he said, unfastening her dress. She was nervous and could feel herself shaking.

  Angus pulled her close and whispered to her. “It will be okay. Don’t be nervous.” He kissed her lips ever so lightly.

  He pulled back, then slid her arms out of the sleeves and watched keenly as the garment fell to the floor.

  “Such pretty under garments you have,” he teased, pulling her chemise off.

  He gently pushed her backwards onto the bed, having already pulled the covers back.

  Angus lay beside her, his hands about her waist. He had promised to be gentle with her, and she had to believe he would.

  * * *

  Charlotte awoke in Angus’s arms as she did most days, but today was different.

  She was a woman now.

  He’d promised to be gentle with her, and he was. The first time it had hurt, but after that it was wonderful. It made her wonder why she’d been so hesitant.

  She gently pulled out of his arms, trying not to disturb him. But it wasn’t to be. His arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled her back to his side.

  Charlotte knew exactly what her husband wanted.

  * * *

  “We need to hurry,” Angus said. “We’re going to be late.”

  Charlotte pulled the bonnet on her head and straightened up Emma’s dress. “I wonder whose fault that would be,” she said, looking at him sideways.

  It was, after all, Angus who pulled her back into bed.

  Once outside, he lifted them up onto the wagon, pausing with Charlotte, to kiss her lips. She stared into his face. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time.

  She knew it from the start, but he really was a handsome man. And strong. He could swing her up onto that wagon with absolutely no effort.

  It was just a pity he didn’t love her. That would be the icing on the cake.

  Not that Mr Rainer had loved her. He was just an old pervert who wanted her parent’s money and her inheritance.

  Perhaps one day Angus would come to love her, and she him. Right now, she wasn’t sure what she felt. She’d been thrust into being a bride so quickly, and everything had been like a blur.

  It was only now she had time to think about her situation. Her life definitely wasn’t as easy as it was before, with servants to undertake every task, even to the point of choosing her clothes each day.

  Did she miss it? Most certainly.

  Would she go back? Definitely not. She was happy here, even if her life was harder.

  She did miss Allie though. She was always kind to Charlotte and protected her from her mother whenever she could.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Angus’s voice ripped through her thoughts.

  She shook her head. “No, sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “We’re almost there. Everyone at church is lovely, and I’m sure they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

  Charlotte wasn’t so sure. How did they feel about a complete stranger marrying one of their own?

  Did anyone know she was a mail order bride? That probably disturbed her the most. She’d always looked down on mail order brides, but now she was one herself.

  “Do they know?” she suddenly blurted out.

  He glanced across at her. “That we’re married? I should think so, by now.”

  She took a deep breath before asking the question. “That I’m a mail order bride.” She felt the heat creep up her cheeks and put her hands to her face.

  He reached across and pulled them down. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. But no, they don’t know.” He squeezed her hand. “Frankly, it’s none of their business.”

  “Whoa.” He
pulled the horses to a stop in a paddock next to the little church where they’d married. He climbed down, helped the others down, and pulled Charlotte close to him.

  “I’m scared,” she said quietly.

  He grinned. “I recall you being scared about something else. And look how that turned out!”

  Charlotte gasped. “You can’t say things like that as we’re walking into church. That’s almost blasphemous.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. It was far from a laughing matter as far as Charlotte was concerned.

  The organist began to play one of the hymns as they entered the chapel, and Angus guided her into a pew at the back.

  Charlotte silently prayed to have a good life with Angus, and that he would eventually come to love her.

  At the end of the service, Angus introduced her to the parishioners, but she knew their names would elude her for a while.

  “Charlotte, come with Papa,” he said, lifting his daughter, and giving his wife time to get to know some of the local women.

  “You must join the ladies auxiliary, my dear,” a much older lady, who introduced herself as Mrs Harrow, told her.

  It would do her good to get out and meet other people, Angus had said. She was sure he was right.

  Next time they would stay and have luncheon with the other members of the church. Today though, Angus said he just wanted to spend some time with his new family.

  Mrs Mavis Jensen was the next to introduce herself to Charlotte. “I am Mrs Jensen,” she said. “My husband is the undertaker.”

  Charlotte screwed up her nose.

  “Yes, I know,” Mrs Jensen said. “It is rather off-putting, but someone has to do it.”

  More of the women rallied around, and Charlotte was introduced. “Mrs Elizabeth Green, Mrs Annie Jackson, and Mrs Bertha Grogan,” she said. “The doctor’s wife.”

  Charlotte nodded but was almost certain she wasn’t going to remember all their names.

  Mrs Jackson stepped forward and leaned in close. “I think you’re really brave taking on the Sheriff’s daughter,” she said. “You’re only young yourself.”

  Charlotte bristled but knew Mrs Jackson was right. “She’s a sweetheart,” Charlotte said. “She’s no trouble.”

  The women all nodded.

  “Are you staying for luncheon today,” Mrs Green suddenly asked.

  “No, Angus wants to spend time together today. We’ll stay next week though.” The women all nodded and smiled, and Charlotte realized this could be her group of friends for many years to come.

  “When does the ladies auxiliary meet?” she asked, genuinely interested.

  “Wednesdays at 2,” Mrs Harrow told her. “Can you cook, my dear?”

  Charlotte blanched. “Of course,” she said confidently. Not really, she said silently, but didn’t want to show her naivety.

  After chatting with her new friends for a good half hour, it was time for the ladies to set up for luncheon.

  “My dear, why don’t you convince Angus to stay?” Mrs Harrow made the suggestion and the others agreed.

  Charlotte felt awful. “Why, we couldn’t do that,” she said meekly. “I haven’t brought a contribution.”

  “Sheriff! Sheriff Doyle!” Mavis Jensen called him over. She continued when he was standing in front of her. “We’ve suggested you and your good wife stay for luncheon. I know you haven’t brought a contribution today,” she said quietly. “But there’s plenty to go around. Mrs Doyle needs to get to know everyone, and they need to get to know her.”

  Emma clinging onto him, he stared across at Charlotte. “Is that what you want, darlin,” he asked impassively.

  She nodded, and he agreed.

  It was mid-afternoon before they began to head home. Charlotte had enjoyed herself but was now tired. So was Emma, who rested her head on Charlotte’s lap.

  He reached across and squeezed her hand. “Did you enjoy yourself, darlin,” he asked. “Some of those women can be a little overwhelming at times.”

  “Oh they can,” Charlotte agreed. “But they are wonderful people. The sort who would do anything for you. At least they seemed at way.” She felt wistful. “They’re not like that back home.”

  He frowned at her. “They’re not?” He was curious but she too tired to explain now. Besides Emma was sitting on her lap and she didn’t want her to overhear.

  “There are some horrid people where I come from,” she said quietly. “Really selfish and self-serving.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She stiffened. She really didn’t. “Maybe another time.”

  He stared at her, then reached across and squeezed her hand. It was almost as though he understood.

  * * *

  Charlotte pulled the election cake out of the oven and sat it on the wooden board to cool.

  “Hurry up and finish your food, Emma,” she demanded. The child had been playing with her food for nearly half an hour. “We’ll collect the eggs soon, then we’ll be going to church.”

  Emma’s eyes lit up. She loved playing with the other children at church. It must get lonely for her here at times, Charlotte thought. She knew she did at times.

  She looked forward to church on Sunday when she got to spend time with her new friends. It was a bonus that Emma got to do the same thing.

  Sitting around sharing food each woman had made was always a gift. You never knew what you would get, and it was a wonderful chance to try new foods. Sometimes she even managed to get the recipes.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been here a few months already.

  She looked Angus up and down as he entered the kitchen. He scrubbed up really well – not that it was her first time noticing.

  He wore the same outfit he’d worn on their wedding day, and she strongly approved. He came around behind her and put his arms around his wife.

  “You are very special, Charlotte,” he said, then kissed her gently on her shoulder.

  She leaned back into him. “You are special too,” she said quietly, meaning every word.

  Emma’s chair scraped along the floor as she shoved it back. “I’m finished,” she said. “We can go to church now.”

  Charlotte stared at her. “Not in those clothes you won’t! We’ll collect the eggs and then you can change. Then we can go to church, and not a moment before.”

  Once they were ready, Angus lifted them up onto the wagon. Emma clung tight to her favorite doll.

  At least they weren’t late today, everyone was still entering the church. Angus parked the wagon and helped the others down, then they entered the church.

  Charlotte listened to Onward Christian Soldiers playing in the background as they sat down, and pulled Emma closer. On the whole, she was well behaved in church, but every now and then she fidgeted. During those times, Angus reminded her the child wasn’t quite three – she still had a lot to learn.

  After the service was over, she stood in a huddle with her recent friends and chatted, as she did every Sunday before it was time for luncheon.

  Emma had been running around beside them, playing with some of the other children. Suddenly she was gone.

  Charlotte began to panic. “Angus! Emma is missing.” Tears began to fill her eyes, and she could see the panic in his eyes, but Angus didn’t show it.

  “She’ll be here somewhere. Probably playing with the other children.”

  They heard a scream. Charlotte gasped. “Emma!” She ran toward the sound, and found her daughter laying in the paddock, screaming in pain.

  “I, I didn’t see her there,” Joe Hamish said. “I’m really sorry, Sheriff.”

  Angus waved off the man and hurried to his daughter. The doctor came rushing over and checked her for injuries.

  “She’s broken her leg,” Doc Grogan said. “I’ll splint it here. It will be too painful to move her.”

  Everyone stood in a huddle watching Emma’s leg being splinted, and Charlotte felt ill.

  She totally blamed herself. She took her eye
s off the child for just moments, and now... She could have been killed. She held back a sob.

  Angus must hate her. This was entirely her fault.

  Mrs Jensen, one of the ladies from the auxiliary, came to comfort her. “She’ll be fine. Old Doc Grogan will look after her. He’s mended many a broken limb.” She patted Charlotte gently on the back.

  “It’s my fault,” Charlotte said quietly, tears threatening to break through.

  The older woman must have seen her distress and lead her inside to sit down. “My dear Charlotte, children run off all the time. You can’t blame yourself.” Charlotte nodded but wasn’t convinced.

  Angus put his head around the entrance carrying Emma. “We have to go,” he said briskly, and Charlotte knew it had already begun.

  Her new husband hated her.

  Chapter Six

  Angus carried his daughter up the steps of the cabin, her little leg splinted for the break.

  “Take it off, Papa, take it off.” She had screamed the entire way home, and it was all Charlotte could do not to cry.

  It was breaking her heart, and it was because of her. If she hadn’t been busy talking with her friends, and had held tight to the child’s hand, she’d be all right now.

  She bit back a sob.

  Angus carefully placed her on one of the soft chairs usually reserved for the adults. Wet eyes looked up at him, deploring him to remove the wretched thing from her leg.

  Her little arms went up. “Please Papa, take it off.” He squatted down to her level, and her arms went around his neck.

  She could see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. It has to stay – to fix your leg.” And he really was sorry, she could see it etched on his face.

  It made her feel even more guilty.

  To think the poor baby was suffering because she didn’t do the only thing she was tasked to do – care for his daughter.

  She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain she had suffered when that wagon wheel ran over her tiny leg. She ran from the room to prevent Angus from hearing the sobs she could no longer hold back.

  She lay down on the bed and cried until she could cry no more.

  She felt his presence before he approached her. “What’s this then,” he asked as he turned her to face him. “Emma will be fine. Doc Grogan said so.”