Another dream kept happening. One she didn’t dare mention to anyone else, but she’d had the same dream at least three different times. In this dream, she was in the church which had been decorated for a wedding with flowers and paper streamers, she was wearing her beautiful wedding dress. The pastor and all their friends and neighbors were there.
But no Clinton. The clock ticked as loudly as a cannon going off as the seconds and minutes went by, but still no Clinton.
Sometimes images from that dream flitted through her mind during the day, too.
She was a horrible, selfish girl to only worry about her own humiliation if she was stood up at the altar rather than being concerned about Clinton and his safety.
She refocused on the dress she was making and forced herself to think pleasant thoughts. This dress was to be for Annemarie who was planning to get married on Christmas Day. Josie fluffed the fabric out and admired it. This dress would certainly be noticed—bright red with white trim—about as Christmassy as you could get. She wondered if Annemarie planned to remake the dress or if she’d just keep it to wear every Christmas. Oh my.
She’d been paid cash up front for her work, so she kept her thoughts to herself and continued stitching. In her mind, she did a quick recap of the dresses she’d promised to make before Christmas. Her fingers ached just thinking about it, but she reminded herself of all the money she’d have saved up for her new life with Clinton. Though Aunt Joyce and Uncle Carl had been very generous to her, Josie had no dowry to speak of, just the items in her hope chest, a few coins she’d saved, and a heart full of love. Clinton knew the situation and he didn’t care one dang bit about any of that, he just wanted her. Much as she’d been flattered by his words, she knew they wouldn’t put food on the table.
Josie was fortunate because even after she married, she planned to continue working at the general store and build up her reputation as a seamstress and dress designer, too. Clinton he was proud of her, and he always admired whatever garment she was working on when she showed him, even though she knew he had no idea of the difference between a flounce and sash.
Oh, how she missed him. Fighting back a sniffle, she put the finishing touches on her sewing for the day.
Clinton
Clinton Ramsey huddled close to the fire, pulled his coat tight around himself, and wished he’d brought along more substantial clothes. When he’d left Juniper Junction all those weeks, and, now, months, ago, he hadn’t expected to extend the length of his trip by two months, which was fast turning into three.
He touched the cloth around his neck, Josie’s bandana. He’d worn it every day and night until it was nearly threadbare. Life on the range wasn’t easy on man, beast, or clothing.
The others were asleep, so he took out his last bit of writing paper, sharpened a nub of a pencil with his knife and started another letter to Josie.
My dear Josie,
I hope this letter finds you well, safe, and warm. It’s November now, and it’s getting cold, but at least Uncle Carl has probably allowed you and Millie to have a fire in your bedroom. I can appreciate his desire to be thrifty, but, rest assured, once we are married, you’ll never be cold again. Or at least not in the bedroom.
He paused for a moment and wondered if that last statement was a bit too racy to include, but since he doubted Josie would ever see this letter...just like all the others he’d written, he left it in. The thought of her, as his wife, snuggled next to his body in their bed in the little house on Main Street was about the only thing that kept him going most days.
He ought to have gone back to Juniper Junction with the others as planned, but when Mr. Gibson had offered double wages plus a bonus for anyone who signed on for his drive, Clinton couldn’t say no. Travis and others had tried to talk him out of it, but Clinton was determined. The same determination that made him the best calf roper for miles around made him decide to go on a second drive. With the money he’d earn, he’d be able to buy that house from Mr. Kent and still have money to set aside for the future. His future with Josie.
It did his heart good to think about owning a piece of land. Even a town lot instead of a big spread was something to be proud of. His family had lost everything when he was a child. That was in Minnesota. Storms and insects had killed their crops and hadn’t been too kind to the livestock either. His pa had been renting the property, planning to use the profits from the crop to pay the rent for the year, but when the crop failed and their little bit of savings was gone, that was the end for them.
Mr. Scroggins, who owned the land, had been as generous as he could have been, but finally one day he had come with the sheriff to serve a notice telling them they had to be off the property. All these years later, Clinton’s chest still tightened up remembering his ma staring at the notice to leave the premises, tears streaming down her face.
Clinton had wanted to cheer her up, make her happy and help her forget their troubles, but these troubles were way too big for him to fix.
They’d left soon thereafter, all their belongings, such as they were, on their wagon, and headed west.
As the only home he’d ever known grew smaller and smaller in the distance, Clinton decided then and there he’d always make sure he had a roof over his head, and his family would never have to live in fear the way he had.
Looking back, he supposed maybe it was for the best, otherwise he wouldn’t have ended up in Juniper Junction where he’d met Josie. Sweet, beautiful Josie. She’d had a rough bringing up, too, which was another reason why he wanted to own that house.
He went back to his letter.
I’m sorry I didn’t come back with the others. I’m sure you’ve already heard from Travis and Rafe about the adventures we had. I guess I was having such a good time, I decided to go on another drive. Except this one isn’t the same at all. It’s hard when you don’t know who you’re riding with, whether you can trust them. Out here, it’s good to have a loyal friend.
Now, don’t you worry none. It’s not as though I’ve run in with a bad crowd or anything, but between working with strangers and the changes in the weather, this ride is about a complete opposite from the other.
He paused to stir the fire and toss on another log. The night temperature continued to drop. He stretched his legs out to warm his feet.
But we expect to deliver the cattle within a couple weeks and then I’ll be riding like the wind to get back to you, my sweet Josie. Back in time for our wedding. I love you and miss you so much. I hope you know how much. I’m sorry I put such an extra burden on you with me being gone and all. I hope you realize I was only thinking of what’s best for us. Just think, in a few short weeks, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Clinton Ramsey, homeowners.
He signed his name at the bottom of the page then folded it up and stuck it in his saddle bag with the rest of the letters he’d written her. One nearly every night.
He stretched out on his bedroll, stared up at the sky, and counted the stars until he fell asleep, thinking of his sweet Josie.
Chapter 7
One month until Christmas
The strains of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” floated from the piano in the sanctuary as Josie and Millie hurried into the church and closed the door tightly behind them to keep out the cold.
“Brrr,” Millie said as the cousins made their way to the meeting room. “I bet attendance will be low now that the weather is getting cold. Just one more thing to hate about winter, if you ask me. At least we live in town and won’t end up snowed in and going stir crazy like the families farther out of town, but that also means fewer people for us to socialize with.”
“Yes,” Josie said, glancing out the window as the bitter wind blew fat snowflakes in a swirl. At least she was warm and inside. She hated thinking about Clinton, out in the cold. Not only was he out in the cold. He was late. She’d been looking for him to arrive any day now, and she’d been doing that for two weeks. She’d caught herself jumping each time the bell over the door to the general stor
e rang to announce a new customer. That bell used to be a happy sound, indicating new business. But now, Josie was sure it was mocking her.
“Is that all you have to say?” Millie asked as they hung up their coats. She paused to take a good look at Josie. Then sighed. “I know this is hard for you, waiting for Clinton. And I’ve heard the whispers around town, too.” Millie kept her voice low. “But you need to remember Clinton loves you, and his word is as good as gold. He’ll be here. There’s still plenty of time before Christmas.”
Josie gave her cousin a wan smile. “Thank you. I know all you say is true, but I just miss him so much.” Josie’s voice cracked, and she rubbed away a tear with her palm.
“Come on now,” Millie said. “Listen to the music. It’s Christmas. Your favorite time of the year.”
Millie started to hum along with the song being played on the piano, and Josie couldn’t help but join in, her spirits lifting with the powerful words.
Josie picked up her basket with fabric scraps, and they joined the rest of the group. As predicted, the gathering was smaller than during the warm, sunny months of the summer. But she was glad to see Lydia and a few of the other girls from town, as well as Miss Ryan, grumpy as ever.
“I had hoped the cold weather would have kept her away,” Millie whispered, and Josie stifled a giggle. “Maybe she likes it. I hear she’s got ice water in her veins.”
“Millie!” she scolded under her breath. “Stop that right now.”
Fortunately, the piano hit a flourishing crescendo that covered their unladylike chatter as they took their places around the big quilt. Before she sat down, Josie added the contents of her scrap basket to the pile of materials to be added to the quilt.
“I brought some of the scraps from your engagement dress,” she said to Lydia as she took her seat next to her. “I thought that would be a nice addition to this quilt, since it’s going to be yours, after all.”
Lydia blushed. “Josie! How thoughtful of you. You were right about that dress. Every time I wear it, Rafe has a hard time keeping his eyes off me.”
“I’ll make an even prettier one for your wedding. Have you set a date yet?”
“How many dresses does a girl need these days?” Miss Ryan said with a scowl. Josie was miffed that the old sourpuss had butted in but didn’t want to cause more tensions with the group, especially on a day when so few were able to attend.
“Rafe’s wedding gift for Lydia is a new dress. You wouldn’t begrudge a man the chance to buy a gift for his wife, would you?” Josie said, as sweetly as she could muster.
“Harumph. Man could spend his money better on other things instead of a bit of frippery.”
Despite Josie’s efforts to be cordial, tension hung in the air.
“Lydia,” Millie tried to change the conversation. “I didn’t hear your answer to Josie’s question about a wedding date.”
“We haven’t set one yet,” Lydia said looking a bit sad, which no doubt pleased grumpy Miss Ryan. “Rafe says he won’t set a date until he’s got a decent home to take me to and there are just no houses available.” She sighed. “I guess we’ll have to wait until the spring. By then we’ll have enough saved up for a little piece of property and will build a house.”
“How exciting.” Mrs. Campbell joined the conversation from her corner of the quilt. “You’ll be able to build something together and that will make it special.”
“Why don’t you buy Mr. Kent’s house on Main Street?” Miss Ryan said with a smirk.
“What are you talking about?” Millie replied, her voice rising. “Josie and Clinton are going to take that house. It’s already been arranged. You know that.”
“Of course, as long as Clinton gets back in time. My understanding is that he’s only paid the option to Mr. Kent until Christmas, so he’ll need to get home before then. If he gets home at all.” This time, Miss Ryan looked straight at Josie when she uttered those hateful words. “Besides, I’ve heard the weather to the south has turned for the worse. The pass will be snowed in and closed soon, if it isn’t already. You might not see Clinton until the thaw. Who knows what might happen by then.”
“Why, you spiteful old biddy!’ Millie jumped into the fray before Josie could open her mouth to defend herself. “Just because your fiancé dumped you and ran far far away doesn’t mean Clinton will do the same thing. As sour as you are, I’m surprised he even wanted to marry you at all. But Clinton’s not like that man and Josie sure isn’t like you, mean and bitter. All you want to do is hurt people’s feelings. Is that your hobby or something? “
Josie’s eyes went wide, and she wanted to stop Millie from continuing, but her cousin had risen from her seat and gone to stand directly in front of Miss Ryan. “You’re nothing but a mean old crank, and you can’t sew worth beans either.”
The piano had been playing steadily since they’d arrived, but, inexplicably, it stopped just as Millie began to speak and, when she finished, a deathly silence hung over the room. Josie licked her lips and tried to think of what to say, since this spat related to her.
Miss Ryan was faster. Jabbing her needle into the quilt, she stood up and faced Millie. “Well, now you’ve hurt my feelings. I’m leaving, and I won’t be back. Please don’t bother including me in any more of your social”—she said the last word with venom in her voice—“events.”
Miss Ryan donned her coat and hat and headed for the door. She turned back to the rest of the room. “I never liked spending time with you people anyway. I just did it because you’re all such a bunch of hayseeds, I thought I might be able to add a bit of class to the gatherings.” And then she was gone.
The door to the church closed with a sharp click and then it seemed all of the ladies gathered for the quilting society meeting let out the breath they’d been holding and burst into raucous laughter.
“We really shouldn’t be laughing about this,” Mrs. Campbell said. She was the oldest member in attendance and seemed to feel obligated to bring a bit of maturity to the gathering. She would have been more believable if she wasn’t snorting with laughter.
Josie couldn’t control her giggles. How long had it been since she’d laughed so hard? She’d forgotten how good she felt after a good laugh. With each guffaw, some of the anxiety that had overtaken her in recent weeks fell away.
Why did she let that bitter woman get under her skin? Clinton was a man of his word. If he said he’d be home in time for Christmas, then he’d be there. She finally composed herself, picked up her needle, and started stitching.
She leaned toward Millie. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
Millie gave her arm a bump with her elbow. “That’s what family is for. Besides, she had it coming. She’s been itching for someone to tell her off for as long as I can remember.”
“Still,” Josie said, glancing around, “I’m glad your mama wasn’t able to attend today. She wouldn’t be very happy with either of us.”
Millie nodded then shrugged. “I know, but what are the odds she won’t know about it before we even get home?”
Josie had to agree. “There aren’t too many secrets here in Juniper Junction. It wouldn’t surprise me if that old biddy went and told on us, like we were a couple of schoolgirls.”
“Well, nothing we can do about it now, so let’s enjoy the rest of our get-together,” Millie said.
A couple more brave souls arrived, bringing news of bad weather on the horizon. Josie and Millie had a short walk back to the general store, so it wasn’t so much of a concern for them, but Josie’s heart sank thinking about Clinton out in the nasty weather. Touching the star pendant around her neck, she said a silent prayer for her beloved cowboy.
The ladies of the Juniper Junction Quilting Society were a hardy crew, and though they kept an eye to the sky, no one wanted to allow the weather to dampen their spirits. There was much conversation about the coming Christmas holiday. The piano began playing again, and all was festive in the church meeting room.
Try th
ough they might, however, they could not ignore the continuing howl of the wind, and a decision was made to cut the meeting. Just as they were putting their things away, Pastor Ellis came into the room and motioned for Josie. Curious, she approached the man of the cloth.
“Yes, Pastor?”
“I wonder if we might talk for a minute in private, Josie.” He stepped into the hallway, and she followed, brow furrowed. Had he heard the commotion earlier? She hoped she wasn’t about to get a lecture.
They stopped just inside the sanctuary, and the pastor gazed down at her, kindness in his eyes. “This Sunday is the first reading of the banns for your marriage to Clinton,” he said, and Josie’s heart fluttered. The time would be here soon.
“And, well.” Pastor Ellis looked a bit uncomfortable but then continued, “I wondered if you have, well, if you have heard from Clinton recently.”
“Um, no, I haven’t heard from him since the others returned and sent word with them of his plans.” Josie had a funny feeling, like she was on the witness stand at a trial where she was accused of something she hadn’t done, and it got her hackles up. “Is there a problem?” She stared at the pastor, daring him to say what she had a feeling he wanted to say.
He dared. “I just wondered, my child, if it might be better to put off the reading of the banns until Clinton has returned. It ought not to delay things that much, and no point in getting ahead of ourselves, don’t you agree?”
Josie bit her lip and glared. It was wrong to get angry at a pastor and even worse to do it while standing in the sanctuary of the church. But that didn’t stop her. Not one bit.
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 238
