Merry Wild West Christmas

by Wanda Ann Thomas

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” Trudy gushed and glanced over her shoulder at her boss. The bartender was the new owner and operator of the Rawhide. “When I saw the gold braids crowning your head, I knew you must be Mrs. Brigetta Haven.”

  “Trudy, talk on your own time,” Slim said, but his tone was that of a man resigned to being ignored.

  Ox and Garrett sipped on their beers, knowing better than to get in Bri’s way when she was on a mission. In no time at all, she filled Trudy in on all the particulars about the bakery and invited her to visit any time.

  Bri finished by patting Ox’s arm. “Have you made the acquaintance of this handsome fellow?”

  Ox choked on his beer. Guilty of ogling Trudy the first time or two he came across her, of late he hadn’t taken much notice. “I been spending most evenings with Boone and Maggie,” he coughed out.

  “Ox is the kindest, dearest man you’d ever want to meet,” Bri said.

  Trudy’s mouth brushed his ear. “I like the quiet ones.”

  He jerked his head to the side in whiplash fashion. “I snore loudly as a train engine. Just ask Garrett.” His face heated as he realized his unfortunate words. He clamped his mouth shut and studied his beer.

  “Some pretzels would sure taste good with this beer,” his brother said, coming to his rescue. But that didn’t stop him from smiling at Ox’s distress.

  Trudy sashayed back to the bar.

  Bri’s brow furrowed. “You’re not attracted to Trudy, but—”

  “Bri, honey,” Garrett interrupted. “Maybe Ox has his eyes on one of the girls at the Wagon Wheel.”

  Ox cringed. “Shh.” Where was Choo Choo pounding out a loud song on the piano when Ox needed him? Praise be, as Ma Haven used to say, Trudy was flirting with the cowboys at the bar.

  “But she seems just your type,” Bri whispered, finishing her thought.

  Ox gulped down more beer and slumped back against his chair. “You got me there.” He couldn’t deny he had fallen half in love with a buxom saloon girl, or two.

  Bri patted his hand. “We hate to think of you living alone for the rest of your life.”

  “My mother was a saloon girl and I turned out good.” Garrett stared into his mug, then his eyes met Ox’s. “I don’t want to hog all the happiness.”

  He was tempted to give them both a bear hug. “I am happy.” That had been true until a gal with strawberry blond hair and a fondness for all things Christmas had lassoed his attention. Just now he envied the friendship and love this couple enjoyed.

  “What if I invite Trudy to dinner and you join us?” Bri eagerly waited for an answer.

  First Boone and Maggie giving him a puppy. Now Garrett and Bri’s matchmaking. His family’s concern for his welfare was unnecessary.

  Trudy’s painted red lips curved with a smile for him as Slim handed her a bowl plum full of pretzels.

  He cracked his knuckles and took the bull by the horns. “I’m helping Mr. Hopkins surprise his daughter with a Christmas caroling party. And I could use a few more carolers.”

  It was either bring Josephine into the conversation or risk giving Bri, Garrett, and Trudy false hope.

  For good or ill, he charged ahead.

  Twelve

  Jo was in heaven—the stand of fir, the refreshing evergreen aroma, the kiss of the chill air on her cheek, and the sun sparkling like diamonds on a fresh layer of snow.

  Jasper would have loved being part of the tree-hunting party. Ox’s brother and sister-in-law, Garrett and Bri Haven, appeared to be enjoying the outing too.

  Clad in a red flannel shirt and carrying an ax on his shoulder, Ox paused beside a stand of head-high trees. “What do you think?”

  The twin firs would make lopsided Christmas trees. “The full branches are perfect for wreaths.”

  “Ox’s cabin could use a woman’s touch,” Bri said, looping her arm through Garrett’s.

  Her husband hid his smile behind his hand. “A Christmas tree would fill half the cabin.”

  Ox shot an irritated look at the couple. “Miss Jo isn’t interested in no two-bit ranch.”

  Actually, she was more than a little intrigued. Would his cabin be as neat and tidy as his groomed hair and pressed shirt? Or did cobwebs fill the corners? Was the furniture strewn with clothing and the sink stacked with dirty dishes? She scuffed her boots through the snow. “A little tree can be as pretty as a big one.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t visit Sweet Creek.” Garrett’s drawl made the name sound magical. “The family always does up the tree big, and there’s a huge turkey dinner and presents for everyone.”

  Bri touched her hand to her middle and stared lovingly at her husband. “We usually stay in the mountains through the holidays, but Garrett didn’t want to take the chance of being snowed in for the winter.”

  “From the warm way you all speak of the ranch, I would love to make the trip someday.” Jo turned an apologetic look on Ox. “I hate that your helping us will cause you to miss out on family time.”

  He rocked on his heels. “You don’t have to worry on that account. Maggie and Boone will make sure we have our own feast and celebration.”

  Garrett nodded. “Bri already let Maggie know she would bake bread and pies and Colt’s favorite pudding.”

  This year it would be only her and Mutter and Papa. Jo stifled a sigh. Feeling sorry for herself was unacceptable. “We will burn a Yule log and sing carols.”

  “We heard you are fond of Christmas music,” Bri said.

  A twinkle filled Ox’s eyes. “Humming carols is Miss Jo’s favorite pastime.”

  “If you listen to Ox, you will believe I have nothing but Christmas on my mind.” Why did her stomach flutter at knowing Ox had spoken to his family about her?

  Bri beamed. “You make a sweet couple.”

  “We were hoping someone would come along and save Ox from becoming a smelly old bachelor,” Garrett said.

  Ox’s face turned Christmas red. “Don’t mind them. My family likes to tease.”

  She smiled for his sake. The fault was hers for giving Ox false hope. “Santa Claus is the only man I would consider marrying.”

  “If Ox grew a beard, he could pass for Santa,” Garrett said, continuing the teasing in good fun.

  Bri tugged on her husband’s arm. “There is a tree closer to the wagon I want to take a second look at.”

  He winked playfully. “We already have a tree in the wagon.”

  “Ja, maybe I want two.” Although Brigetta was Swedish, her thick accent reminded Jo of Mutter’s, and the love and respect between the couple was palpable. “Or maybe Ox and Jo would like some time alone.”

  Jo’s cheeks flamed. “There’s no need to go.”

  “You two are killing me,” Ox growled.

  Bri and Garrett glided away with pleased smiles.

  “Your family is utterly charming. And exhausting.”

  “They mean well.” Avoiding her eyes, Ox sized up the fir trees. “I’ll have the trees downed and limbed in no time, and we can drag the boughs to the wagon.”

  She stamped her feet and rubbed her hands together to ward off the seeping cold. She should state loud and clear he should look elsewhere for a bride. “That should give me more than enough greens for the wreaths. Then we just have to find the perfect Christmas tree.”

  “We don’t have to do everything in one day. I’m getting cold and tired myself.”

  Not true. A lumberjack of a man, he was built for icy climes and hard work. He was trying to spare her pride. His not lecturing or coddling her was more appreciated than he could know. If she was free to marry, Ox Haven would make a wonderful, respectful, kind husband. “I bet I can name fifteen Christmas songs before you can chop down the first tree.”

  That made him smile. “Is this a friendly wager or does the loser have to forfeit a prize?”

  Like Jasper, she loved fun and games. She reached into her pocket and pulled a new, pristine handkerchief and waved it like a pennant. “What
do you offer as a token?”

  “Holly berries?” Merriment shining in his eyes, he caught the handkerchief. “Why am I not surprised?”

  She hiked her chin and struggled not to laugh. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to lose.”

  “I’m so sure I will win, I would bet my silver spurs and belt buckle if I hadn’t left them at the ranch.”

  “What would I do with silver spurs?”

  “You’ve got me there. How’s this instead? If I somehow happen to lose, I will take you about town for an evening of Christmas caroling.”

  “Are my ears working right?” She clapped her hands in delight. “You would do that?”

  “I wouldn’t get too excited.” His broad smile made him even more handsome. “You haven’t heard me sing.”

  “Jasper couldn’t carry a tune, but that didn’t stop us from having terrific fun.”

  Ox hefted the ax. “Stand back, and you can give the signal to start.”

  “Ready, set…” She scooted away. “Go!”

  Ox swung the ax as if it weighed nothing. Wood chips flew in all directions.

  “‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas,’ ‘Joy to The World,’ ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem,’” she shouted, laughing and pulling off her mittens to count on her fingers. The tree was halfway chopped down. Why hadn’t she said ten songs instead of fifteen?

  “‘The Twelve Days of—’” Her throat closed as a somber-faced Indian stepped into view. Waist-length hair flowed over his buckskin-clad shoulders.

  Thirteen

  Jo knocked against Ox, making him drop the ax, and held onto him for dear life. The Indian wars were a thing of the past, but occasionally stories had appeared in the Cincinnati newspapers of rogue braves leaving reservations to go on the warpath.

  “White Wolf,” Ox exclaimed, voice warm and welcoming. “What brings you here this time of year?”

  Her heart resumed beating. Mortification followed, at throwing herself at Ox. She pushed away from him, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Reindeer droppings! Why did his solid chest and encircling strong arms have to feel so comforting and good?

  “Wolf is family.” Ox leaned the ax against the fir tree but watched her with concerned eyes.

  Not only was her reaction spineless, it was rude. “Please introduce me to your…” Did Ox say they were family?

  Ox wrapped the other man up in a bear hug. “Wolf is my brother.”

  “I’m sorry to have frightened you.” The man’s tawny face softened, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. “My white man name is McMurray,” he explained, returning Ox’s embrace. “White Wolf McMurray Haven.”

  “This here is Miss Josephine Hopkins.” Ox’s brow remained creased.

  A thousand questions raced through her mind. She extended her hand. “I’m happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Haven.”

  His handshake was firm but brief. “Call me Wolf.”

  “Mr. Wolf, please call me Jo.”

  “Wolf will do just fine.”

  He had a patient calming nature about him. “I’m sorry for interrupting your reunion with Ox.”

  Ox smiled wide. “Wolf is never far away. What brings you this time? Have you seen Boone and Garrett yet? You know Maggie and Bri will beg you to stay for Christmas.”

  “I might allow them to convince me. You know how fond I am of Miss Bri’s apple strudel.”

  Listening to Ox and Wolf speak of family had her missing her many cousins and aunts and uncles. Holiday festivities would be in full swing in her Cincinnati neighborhood.

  A night of Christmas caroling would cheer her. Ox couldn’t have been serious about caroling. She fiddled with her handkerchief.

  “I hope you had better luck than us running your trap lines,” Ox said. “Had a grizzly take down four calves before Garrett and I caught up to the son of a gun. Then the drought at the start of the summer had us worried, but the rain came before the fields got scorched.”

  Frowning, she exhaled. Here Ox was dealing with real problems, and her “big” concerns were hanging wreaths and wrapping presents.

  “Miss Jo is getting antsy to get back to collecting fir boughs.” Ox winked. “We were in the middle of a contest. And we still have to find a tree for decorating.”

  “You win.” She tucked the square of cloth into his shirt pocket. She wouldn’t blame Garrett, Bri, and Wolf for thinking of her as silly and selfish. “We should go. My parents will be wondering what’s keeping us.”

  Ox looked from her to the handkerchief. “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  Garrett and Bri shoved past a screen of evergreen branches and eagerly greeted White Wolf. They suggested everyone return to town.

  Jo hid behind a smile and nodded her agreement, eager to escape to the safe cocoon of her bedroom. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t one to accept defeat. Then again, her Wild West Christmas had taken an unexpected turn, one that posed a danger to her heart.

  ∞∞∞

  Ox encouraged the horse up the snowy slope and back onto the frozen trail. Piled high with tree boughs, the buckboard wagon on sleigh runners wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done. Beside him on the bench, Jo hummed carols, lost in her own thoughts.

  Up ahead, white breath clouds puffed from the mouths of Garrett and Brigetta’s horses. Wolf rode alongside the sleigh, holding the lead of a handsome black and white spotted Appaloosa.

  Wolf remained silent about the horse. And would continue to do so until Ox broached the subject.

  “Chief was a good horse,” Ox said.

  His brother continued to stare into the distance. “He was.”

  A tan roan with a black mane, Chief wasn’t a beauty, but he was more intelligent than most people, and thanks to powerful legs and chest, he could outlast most other horses. Ox’s chest squeezed tight. “He was one of a kind.”

  “Each horse is unique. Like people that way.” Wolf would not force the horse upon him.

  Ox rolled his shoulders. “I’m helping out at Hopkins Stables if you need a place to keep him.”

  “He’ll need a permanent home come spring.”

  Not any horse would do for Ox. It would need to be big and strong like the Appaloosa to carry his weight. “Does he have a name?”

  “I culled him from a wild herd. I’m waiting for him to reveal his name.”

  Jo perked up. “Nick is robust sounding.”

  “As in Saint Nicholas?” Ox laughed and shook his head. “Only you.”

  She shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “I can’t help myself.”

  Ox turned his grin on Wolf. “Colt and Jo convinced me to call my dog Sugar Cookie.”

  “Dog?” Wolf asked smiling.

  “Boone, Maggie, and Colt gave him to me to save me from being lonely.” Ox shifted on the saddle, recalling Garrett and Bri’s working in cahoots to hook him up with Trudy. Now they had turned their sights on Jo.

  Wolf grunted. A loner by nature, Wolf was a first generation second-chance boy and ten years older than Ox. “I know your difficult position.”

  “I can see why you keep yourself scarce. I’d been meaning to get me a dog, so no harm done. Cookie is a sweet girl.”

  Jo clapped her mitten-clad hands. Wisps of strawberry-blond hair caressed her cheeks. “I told you the name was perfect.”

  “You did.” Her rosy lips couldn’t look more kissable. Wolf spoke, but Ox missed what he said. “What’s that?”

  “I told Miss Jo you were a good listener.” Amusement shone in Wolf’s eyes. He nudged his horse into a trot. The Appaloosa raised his tail and snorted as he raced up to Garrett’s and Bri’s mounts.

  “He’s a beauty.” Ox knew he was looking at his next horse. And couldn’t thank Wolf enough for not pushing.

  “Your family is the most interesting I’ve ever met.” Jo’s shoulder nudged his. She smelled of evergreens and vanilla bean. “How many brothers do you have?”

  “A bunch.”

  “I’d love to meet them.”

  Not
hing would make him happier. “We raise a ruckus when we get together, but a good kind of ruckus.”

  “I have a delightful, big family back in Cincinnati.” She shivered. “But Papa’s job was killing him.”

  Ma Haven had left behind family and friends to settle in Wyoming. Jo was cut from the same courageous cloth. He wanted her first Christmas in the West to be special.

  The riders ahead disappeared behind a screen of trees at a narrowing of the path. “I should have thought to bring a blanket. I’ll make up for it by bringing two blankets for the Christmas caroling party.” He transferred the reins to his left hand and circled his arm around her slim back.

  “A caroling party? For real?” She nestled closer. “No, it must be a joke.”

  Her happiness was worth the teasing he would take from his brothers. “It’s all planned for next Saturday. Going door to door singing, followed by hot cocoa and cookies at Boone and Maggie’s place. Garrett and Bri agreed to join us.”

  “You are too wonderful!” She kissed his cheek. “I can’t wait to write to my Aunt Elsa. She was certain cowboys sang only drinking songs or songs about cows.”

  Ox chuckled even as his gut tightened. Much as he desired to share a real kiss, he feared pushing too far, too fast. “I don’t know about that, but our singing might end up sounding like a bunch of drunk cows.”

  “Who cares? It will be fun, fun, fun.”

  Shoot! He was falling in love with spirited, Christmas-loving Josephine Hopkins. And falling fast.

  The sleigh broke free of the forest. Jo scooted over and waved to his family who had waited for them to catch up.

  The slap of the cold wind replaced Jo’s warmth. He clasped the reins in both hands.

  What in blazes should he do next? Should he confess his feelings to Jo? Or respect her declaration that she welcomed becoming a spinster?

  After a few minutes, the silence was replaced by her soft humming. His insides churned even more.

  Spinster?

  Talk about a crime.

  Fourteen

  Bundled in three layers and the remains of tree boughs scattered around her feet, Jo examined the wreaths lining the workbench. Large red bows waited to be fixed to the fragrant greens. A glass of milk and plate of almond cookies sat untouched. The restless Appaloosa neighed again from his stall on the other side of the wall.