A Historical Christmas Present by Lisa Kleypas
She closed her eyes but continued to hold on to his finger. He thought her pug nose was cute. He supposed it would grow to look like her mother’s, but it was just the right kind of nose for a baby. He compared her fingers to his own. She had the same number of joints, the same wrinkles at the knuckles, fingernails—everything he had, only so much smaller.
She was asleep in his arms. It almost made him want to cry, and she wasn’t even his kid.
Something turned over inside Joe. This was what he wanted—Mary, Sarah, and Holly. He wouldn’t ask anything more of life if he could have that much. He understood love now. He could trust his feeling for Mary and hers for him. Holly had made him understand that he could love and be loved.
“You better give her to me,” Mary said. “You need to find that gold.”
Joe’s gaze locked with hers. “If I do?”
“Then you won’t have to leave.”
Joe couldn’t speak for a few minutes. “Are you sure? I’ve never had a family. I might not be good at it. I’ll always be an ex-con.”
“I don’t care. I never met a man like you, Joe. I didn’t think there was one. I don’t know why you should be so different from Pete, my father, and all the other men I’ve known, but you are. Sarah knows it. Even Holly. Look at her sleeping. She knows she’s safe as long as you’re holding her.”
Joe hadn’t thought about it that way, but he knew there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to protect this child. He managed to lever himself out of the chair without waking Holly. He handed her over to Mary.
“I’m going to make her a cradle. She ought to have a bed of her own. Then I’m going to turn this place inside out. I’ve still got twenty-four hours to look for the gold.”
“Is Joe going to leave?” Sarah asked.
“I hope not,” Mary said.
“Why can’t he stay?”
Mary was reluctant to tell Sarah the truth, but she knew she would have to learn it some day. “Pete stole some gold and blamed Joe for it. They put him in jail. He broke out so he could find the gold and prove he didn’t steal it. Pete buried the gold here, but Joe can’t find it. He has to leave, or they will put him back in jail.”
“Can’t we go with him?”
Mary felt excitement leap within her. Why hadn’t she thought of that? It was so simple, so obvious. “Would you want to go with him?”
“Joe’s nice. I want him to be my papa. He said he would like having a little girl like me.”
“I’m not sure he would let us go. Joe’s a very proud man. He’d probably feel he couldn’t share his name with us if he couldn’t do it without fear of being put back in jail. If he could just find the gold, everything would be all right. Can you remember anything unusual Pete did when he came home?”
Sarah shook her head.
“I know you were afraid of him, but please try to remember. Anything might help Joe. Now you’d better finish cleaning up. I’m going to take a nap. I promised I’ll be strong enough to help with dinner.”
But Mary’s thoughts weren’t on dinner or getting stronger. She was trying to think of some way to convince Joe to take her and the children with him.
Joe had never built a cradle, but it wasn’t a difficult task. There were tools for everything in the shed. He bet Pete had never used half of them. “We can’t have Holly sleeping on Mary’s bed,” he said to Samson. The big dog sat watching everything he did. “She’s pretty quiet now, but she won’t be for long. She could roll right out of that bed.”
He tested the bed. “The runner isn’t smooth enough,” he told Samson. “You can’t expect a baby to go to sleep when you’re bouncing it all to bits.” He turned the cradle over and started to file down some of the ridges. “Of course she can’t stay in this cradle forever. As soon as she’s able to pull up, she’ll have to have a crib. We don’t want her falling out on her head.”
Samson yawned.
“I know this isn’t as exciting as hunting coyotes, but you don’t have to be rude. Go talk to General Burnside if you’re so bored.”
But Samson just yawned again, rested his head on his paws, and continued to watch Joe.
“I think that’ll do it,” Joe said when the cradle finally rocked smoothly. “It doesn’t look very fancy, but it’ll give her a place to sleep.” Joe picked up the cradle and started toward the cabin. “Well come on,” he said to Samson when the dog didn’t move. “I don’t think Sarah’s scared of you anymore. At least, she won’t be if you behave yourself. Just go inside, lie down, and keep quiet.”
Samson followed Joe into the house. Sarah did look a little apprehensive, but when the big dog lay down, she looked relieved.
“It didn’t seem a good thing, the three of you sleeping in that bed together,” Joe said as he set the cradle on the floor next to the bed. “Somebody could roll over on that baby and never know it.”
Tears pooled in Mary’s eyes. “That was very thoughtful of you, Joe.”
“You want me to fix it for her now?”
“No, I’d rather hold her.”
“Well, I’ll be outside taking the place apart if you need me,” Joe said as he backed out of the room. “Just give a yell if you need anything.”
“Now, Samson,” Joe said once they were outside, “I want you to put coyotes completely out of your mind and concentrate on gold. Unless you want to wear out your feet trotting all the way to California, we got to find it before nightfall.”
The hours of the afternoon stretched longer and longer. Mary could hear Joe as he moved about the ranch, digging, sounding for hollow spaces, cursing when another idea proved to be as useless as all the previous ones. She found herself praying that he would find the gold. She knew she would never find another man like Joe. She could never love anyone else the way she loved him.
She marveled to herself. She had known him less than a week, yet it seemed they had always known each other. It was as if they were the missing halves of each other. Now that they were together, it was as though they had never been apart.
She looked down at Holly. She wanted more babies—Joe’s babies.
“Did you find anything?” Mary asked Joe when he came in, a full milk pail in hand, to begin supper. She knew the answer, but she kept hoping he would say something to give her hope. She couldn’t give up yet.
“No, but I got a few more places to look.”
“It’ll soon be dark.”
“I can use a lantern.”
“You’re never going to find it, Joe. You know that.”
“There’s always a chance that—”
“If you haven’t found it by now, you won’t. You might as well accept it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because it means I’ll have to leave you.”
“You could take us with you.”
Joe turned sharply. “No.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“I would. I couldn’t have you following me all over the country, wondering if the law was going to catch up with me one day or the next.”
“It would be better than never seeing you again. I love you, Joe Ryan. I never thought it would be possible to love anybody like I love you.”
Joe fell down beside the bed, took Mary in his arms, and kissed her. “I love you. Too much to turn you into a vagabond.”
“I won’t mind.”
“I know you’d try. You might even succeed, but you’d never like it. You long for stability, permanence, a feeling things will be the same tomorrow and the day after. It wouldn’t be fair to Sarah and Holly, or any children we might have. I’ve been wandering since I was sixteen. It was hard for me even then.”
“Then you’ve got to keep coming back until you do find the gold. Sarah and I will help look. You can’t give up.”
“Where is Sarah?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know. I thought she was with you.”
“I haven’t seen her all afternoon. When did she leave?”
“While I was t
“That was more than six hours ago.”
“Did she take the pinto?”
Joe looked out the window. “He’s not in the corral. I can’t believe I didn’t hear her leave.”
“You were concentrating on finding the gold.”
“I was wasting my time,” Joe said. He turned to the stove. “If she isn’t back by the time supper’s ready, I’ll go look for her. It’s getting cold. Wouldn’t be surprised if it freezes to night.”
Sarah returned before supper, but all she would say in response to where she’d been was, “I was looking for some branches to make a Christmas wreath.”
“You have no business being gone by yourself so long,” Joe said. “You nearly scared your mother out of a year’s growth.”
“Did I scare you out of a year’s growth, too?”
Joe decided that things turning over inside him was going to be a regular occurrence as long as he was around Mary and Sarah. “You scared me out of two years,” he said. “Look here,” he said, pointing to the hair at his temples, “I’ll bet you can see gray hairs.”
Sarah looked. “No.”
“Well, you will if you do anything like that again.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They spent the rest of the evening decorating. Joe cut the crepe paper into thin strips and ringed the tree with them. Sarah made big bows out of the ribbon. Joe helped her tack these up on the windows. Then they made a wreath, wired several pine cones in it, tied a huge bow to the bottom, and attached it to the front door. Mary cut out scenes in colored paper, and they pasted them on the windows. By the time they finished, there was hardly a part of the cabin that didn’t have some sign of Christmas.
“There’s nothing left to do but put a lantern in the window, go to bed, and wait for Christmas morning,” Joe said, rubbing his hands together.
“Are you sure Père Noel will find us?” Sarah asked anxiously.
“Sure,” Joe said. “With that wreath on the door and the lantern in the window, he can’t miss.” Joe looked at Mary. She was putting an extra blanket over Holly. The baby slept soundly in the cradle.
“I guess it’s about time I said good night,” he said.
Mary straightened up. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Mary, I already told you I can’t—”
“I mean to night. I don’t want you to go to night.”
“But I can’t sleep here. Brother Samuel would be horrified.”
“The Dev il take Brother Samuel.”
“We can only hope,” Joe murmured.
“If this is to be your last night, I want you to spend it with us.”
Joe stood still. He’d been thrown out of many places in his life. People had turned their backs on him, but he’d never been invited in. He ought to go. If they came for him in the night, he’d be trapped here. Worse still, Mary’s reputation would be ruined.
But he wanted to stay. More than anything in his whole life, he wanted to stay in this room with these people. If to night was all he was to be granted, then he would take it.
“I’ll put my bedroll by the door. That way—”
“I want you to sleep here,” Mary said, patting the bed, “with Sarah and me.”
“But you’ve just had…Sarah won’t…Sister Rachel would fall down in a dead faint if she knew.”
“I’m not asking for anything more than to be near you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, but I’ll sleep on top of the covers.”
Joe was prey to so many conflicting emotions, he hardly knew what he felt. He had never slept with a woman without touching her. He vowed he’d cut off his right hand before he touched Mary. She’d just had a baby, for God’s sake. Besides, he was leaving tomorrow. He couldn’t make love to her, then walk out of her life. Maybe other men could, but he couldn’t.
And he knew he wouldn’t be back. He would never find the gold. He accepted that now. Without the gold, he could never ask Mary to be his wife. He couldn’t accept that. Something inside wouldn’t let him give up. Maybe he could look again in the morning. Maybe he could come back in a few months.
Maybe.
But all he had—all he might ever have—was this night. He moved closer to Mary, reached out, and took her hand in his. He felt as if he was fighting for his share of her attention. Holly wouldn’t settle down. Finally he released Mary’s hand, put his arm around her, and pulled her to him. Holly settled between her breasts and went to sleep. Sarah reached up to take hold of the hand Joe had around Mary’s shoulder. In moments she was asleep as well.
“This wasn’t what I had in mind,” Mary whispered as she clasped Joe’s free hand.
“Me, either,” Joe whispered back. He kissed her hair. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
It was far more than he had expected. So much less than he wanted. He told himself to concentrate on the moment. It was warm and wonderful. It just might be enough to last him for a lifetime.
Mary woke when Holly began to stir. She fed the baby before her cries woke Joe or Sarah. Even in sleep, Sarah held tightly to Joe’s hand. Mary wanted to do the same thing for the rest of her life. Joe had gone to sleep with his head on her shoulder. She felt almost crushed by the love that surrounded her.
And it all came from Joe.
Joe woke at dawn. The cabin was cold. Taking care not to wake Mary, Sarah, or the baby, he eased out of bed. Still in his stockinged feet, he opened the stove and began to lay a fire. “Shut up, Samson,” he said when the dog started to whine. “I’ll let you out shortly.”
In a few minutes he had water on for coffee. He looked outside. The ground was covered with a light dusting of snow. It was closer to a white Christmas than he had ever had growing up. He shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed the milk bucket, and eased the door open on silent hinges he’d oiled two days ago.
The frozen ground crunched under his feet. “Queen Charlotte’s just going to love getting milked this morning,” he said to Samson, who frisked about, his breath making clouds in the frigid air.
The cow did mind being milked, but Joe milked her under the shed out of the wind. She showed her appreciation by kicking only once. Joe set the milk on the porch. “Let the cream rise to the top and freeze. Used to do that back in Carolina,” he told Samson. “Sweetest cream you ever did taste.” He fed and watered General Burnside, then got his presents from the shed.
Mary was at the stove slicing bacon when he entered the cabin, loaded with presents. She stopped, her knife suspended in midair. “What have you got there?” she asked.
“Just a few things I thought you and Sarah might like.”
Mary put her knife down, went to the trunk, and opened it. She took out a handmade doll and a pair of white shoes. “I couldn’t afford to buy anything but the shoes. I was going to make her a dress.”
“It doesn’t matter. I got her some.”
Mary watched as Joe stuffed each of Sarah’s shoes as full as he could get with powder, a mirror, candy, ribbons, and all the little things the girl in Jones Emporium assured him a little girl would want. “So that’s why you risked going to town.”
“No, it isn’t. I—”
Mary put her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him hard on the lips, her knife dangerously close to his jugular.
“Don’t tell lies, not even little ones. It’s Christmas.”
The word worked its magic, and Sarah and Holly woke up at the same time.
Sarah’s gaze went straight to the tree. She rubbed her eyes, looked, and rubbed them again. “Père Noel really did come,” Sarah said, staring at her shoes.
“I told you he wouldn’t miss the light in the window,” Joe said. “Now you can’t open anything until after breakfast. I’ll take that while you feed the baby,” Joe said, removing the knife from Mary’s hand. “Sarah, you can set the table.
Joe tried not to think that this was the last time he would sit down to eat with Mary and her family. He tried to tell himself this was the high point of his stay. He would concentrate on enjoying it. He would have more than enough time to think about what he would be missing.
Joe gave Mary the rattle, dress, and blanket for Holly. Sarah emptied her shoes, exclaiming over everything she found. But when she opened the package Joe handed her with the three dresses inside, she shrieked so loudly that he thought she didn’t like them. She bounded up, threw herself across the room, and hugged him until he thought he couldn’t breathe.
“Every pretty little girl ought to have a dress,” Joe said. “I just bought you a couple of spares. Here, put this one on,” he said, handing her the party dress. “And don’t forget to powder yourself real good,” Joe said as Sarah retreated behind the curtain. “I like my little girls to smell good.”
“You shouldn’t have spent all your money on us,” Mary said, her eyes filling with tears.
“I bought myself a coat. I’ve got plenty left.”
“You’re telling lies again.”
“Enough, then.” He reached back into the welter of brown paper and handed Mary the box of scented soaps. While she was thanking him for that, he handed her the books of drawing paper, the pens, and ink. Before she had recovered completely, he handed her the set of colored paints.
She just sat there, her hand over her mouth, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Next Christmas, I want every one of those drawings to be in color,” he said, a huskiness in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Christmas should never lack color, even in Arizona.”
“Oh, Joe,” Mary said, and threw her arms around him.
Joe found himself hugging Mary and Holly at the same time. Holly objected. Loudly.
“Be quiet, child.”
“No, she’s right,” Joe said, pulling back. “No point pretending. We’ve got to face up to it. This is the last we’ll see of each other for a time.”