Christmas at Stony Creek (4 page)

M
ama!” Pip cried, throwing open the door. “Look what we have!”

Her mother appeared in the living room door. Tears were running down her face. “And look what I have, Pip,” she said.

Pip was wrapped in strong arms that smelled of Papa.

“Where were you?” she said, pressing her face into his broad chest.

“I made a foolish mistake and spent a few days in a deep well,” said Papa. He held her out to look into her eyes. “Don’t tell me you doubted me for a minute.”

“Never,” Pip whispered.

“Will, my boy.” Papa slapped Will on the shoulder and pulled him close. “Where on earth did you find such a feast?”

“Pip found it,” said Will. Nibs and Nan were watching the cheese with awe. Kit licked his lips and eyed it greedily.

“No food just yet, Kit,” Papa said. “Let’s go into the living room. These two are soaked through.”

Papa led Pip over to the fire. Mama wrapped her and Will in blankets. Kit, Nibs, and Nan crowded
around, as close to their father as they could squeeze.

Mama sat next to him with Finny.

They were all laughing and talking at the same time. Finally, Papa said, “Quiet now, all of you. It’s time for Pip to tell us her story.”

From the safety of her father’s lap, Pip told them. No one said a word until she got to the end. “Will helped,” she said. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“That was nothing,” said Will. “You wait until my leg gets better.”

“But, Pip,” Mama said in a quiet voice, “you lost your beautiful stick.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Pip said. “I’ll make another one. I’ll show Kit and Will how to make one, too. I
can make one for everyone, can’t I, Papa?”

“You can do anything in the world, Pip,” he said. “It’s always been so.”

Nibs and Nan leaped up and twirled around the room, giddy with happiness. Nan ran to her mother.

“Are we having the best Christmas ever, Mama?” she asked. “Are we? Are we?”

“I think maybe you should ask Pip.”

Nan threw herself across Pip’s lap. She gazed up into Pip’s face with eager eyes. “Are we, Pip?” she pleaded. “Are we?”

“Yes, we are,” Pip said. “The best Christmas in the world.”

T
he lights in the kitchen at Land’s End went on. Footsteps sounded across the floor.

Then: “Philip?” The woman knelt. “Come, look at this.”

There was amazement in her voice.

The man came over and stood next to her. Then he knelt too. “What in the world…”

Together, they stared at the wondrous thing in front of them.

It was the trap.

Its jaws were held open by a slender, smooth hickory stick shaped like a
Y
.

The cheese was gone.

Jacket art © 2007 by Chris Sheban

Jacket design by Paul Zakris