Spirit of the Valley (30 page)

Chapter Fifty

“Shouldn't they be back by now?” Rebecca fretted for the fourth or fifth time. She and Cessie were sitting together on the sofa, putting a hem in the green and white gingham curtains that would hang in Rebecca's new room—which had been the room she'd shared with Jake. Jake's room would be where Jeremy had slept.

“Honey,” April May said without looking up from the cranberries she was spearing for the Christmas tree garland, “they'll be here when they get here, but they will be here.”

The fragrant, eight-foot tree was decorated with colorful, blown-glass balls that were placed around hand-sewn fabric ornaments. Sy and Livie Blue had liked a colorful tree, and so the Blue household had never known any other kind. The children's artwork had also been added this year. In the minds of Cessie and April May, it had never looked better.

“Why do people go on honeymoons, anyway?” Rebecca muttered. “You're going off to be together when you're already going to be together every day from now on.”

Cessie and April May chuckled. “They didn't go far, you know,” Cessie said. “Only to Roanoke. It's just to be different. To have a different setting. It's romantic.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I'm never getting married.”

“Maybe you will and maybe you won't,” April May replied. “Although don't you think you might want to give it a few months before you decide for good and all?”

After a moment of consternation, a grin broke through on Rebecca's face. Jake was stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, playing an intense game with his toy soldiers, which, given his expression, must have been locked in an angry confrontation. The dogs were stretched out around him, mostly dozing. It occurred to April May how much these children, this family, had filled their lives.

Jeremy and Lizzie had tied the knot the day before yesterday. It had been a small ceremony with only the family and a few others in attendance. Of course, she counted herself and Cessie as family, and then there had been Emmett, Fiona and Wayne Jones, Doll Summers, Tommy and Em Medlin, and the Howertons. Gregory Howerton had purchased a majority holding of Number Six from Jeremy, and he and Jeremy were working together on plans to rebuild it better and safer than before. Emmett had brought it all about. In fact, the man had brought quite a bit about. He'd also taken a shine to Cessie. Cessie refused to acknowledge it, although it was fun to see her light up a little bit around him.

“What are you thinking about?” Cessie asked her sister.

April May looked at her. “I'm thinking life is good and I'm just awful glad to be alive and kicking.”

“Alive and kicking,” Jake laughingly repeated.

“Did those soldiers get their war worked out?” April May asked him. “It looked to me like they were going at it pretty hard.”

Jake looked unsure for a moment and then he nodded.

“That's good. Peace is better than war. Especially at Christmastime.”

Wags's head popped up moments before they heard the sound of a tinkling bell from outside.

“What's that?” Rebecca jumped up and hurried toward the front door before anyone could reply. Jake followed. She opened the door and saw a sleigh coming. “It's a sleigh! It's Mama and Jeremy,” she said happily, “and they're in a sleigh.”

Her mother saw them and waved, and they waved back. It had begun lightly snowing again.

Jeremy drove around the side of the house, and the children closed the front door and went running to the side door in the kitchen.

“Where'd they get the sleigh?” April May wondered aloud as she placed the strand she was working on in the bowl of cranberries and set it aside. She followed Cessie toward the kitchen as the door opened and excited greetings were exchanged.

As everyone was hugged, Jeremy and Lizzie seemed to glow, and the pink of their faces wasn't caused by just the cold. Snowflakes clung to their coats and hats.

“I didn't know it was snowing again,” Rebecca said, wiping away the cold wetness from her face where a snowflake had fallen from Lizzie's embrace. “Until I saw you. We heard the bells.”

Lizzie nodded. “Mr. Rice met us at the station and offered us the horse and sleigh for our ride home,” she explained. “We drove him to Tommy and Em's farm and we'll go back for him in a few days.” She looked at April May and Cessie. “We've all been invited for lunch the day after Christmas. Will you come?”

“Really?” Cessie asked. “Us, too?”

Lizzie nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Doll said to insist that you come.”

“Well,” April May said. “If she insists.”

“We'd love to,” Cessie said. “And you're still coming to Christmas dinner with us?”

“Of course. With my best rolls and carrot cake.”

“And sugar cookies,” Rebecca reminded her.

“Yes,” Lizzie replied. “And sugar cookies.”

“You ready to go home?” Jeremy asked the children.

They took off to get their coats without bothering to reply.

“Walk,” Lizzie called to them.

“Thank you both,” Jeremy said, looking from one to the other.

April May waved off the thanks. “What are grandparents and great aunties for? The question is, did you have fun?”

“It was wonderful,” Lizzie said, looking to Jeremy, who smiled back at her adoringly.

“It was,” he agreed. “Maybe we could all go in a few months. Take the train, eat in a nice restaurant, stay in a hotel.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Cessie said exuberantly.

Jeremy smiled with great affection and led the children outside once they'd hugged Cessie and April May good-bye and said thank you. They were eager for the sleigh ride, apparently their first.

Lizzie lingered. “This isn't your Christmas present,” she said, pulling two small boxes from her pocket. She handed one to each lady; they were marked with their names. “And don't open them until I'm gone,” she said with tears glistening in her eyes. “It's just, I want to say—” Her voice broke.

“We know,” April May said.

Lizzie nodded. “I know you do, but I want to say it. I want to say how much I love you.” Tears spilled from her eyes, and Cessie stepped forward to wipe them away, despite the fact that tears slid down her own cheeks.

Cessie kissed Lizzie's cheek. “We love you, too.”

April May stepped up and gave her a hug. “Now get on home. You got little ones out there who can't wait for a ride. In fact, I want one tomorrow.”

Lizzie sniffed and laughed. “You've got it.”

“And I plan on belting out ‘Jingle Bells' at the top of my lungs.”

“I'll join you,” Lizzie promised as she stepped back. “Good night.”

“'Night, darlin',” April May said.

Cessie's hand was pressed to her throat, her voice trapped within from raw emotion. “How did we ever do without them?” she said when she could.

April May held the gift up. “You ready?”

Cessie nodded and they opened the gifts at the same time. Inside were monogrammed gold lockets. Cessie's was rectangular, April May's oval. “Oh my,” Cessie said as she opened her gift. “Look how lovely.” Each woman had received a picture of herself as a young woman on one side of the locket, and on the other side, a photograph of the children. “How did she do that?”

“Mine's from the family picture,” April May said with an amazed smile. “Damn, was I a nice lookin' thing. Let me see yours.”

“How did they get it so small?” Cessie wondered. Hers was a smaller version of the photograph from her sixteenth year of life—the year before John passed.

“I'm glad I admired mine before I saw yours,” April May grumbled.

Cessie smacked her lightly. “You're so silly.”

Handing back Cessie's locket, April May noticed the inscription on the back She read it and handed it to her sister with a smile that was strained in an effort not to tear up. Cessie read the inscription as April May read her own. Cessie's read,
To my dream mother with love
. April May's said,
To my favorite aunt with love
.

“That girl,” April May said with a shake of her head and a swelling of her heart.

Chapter Fifty-One

Shortly before noon on Christmas morning, the hands at the Martin-Medlin ranch lounged around the parlor of the bunkhouse watching Caty's comical attempts at walking. Wood was on the floor, as were Hawk and Jeffrey. Doll stood watching with wry amusement, commenting frequently on “fully growed men sitting on the floor talking baby talk.”

They ignored her.

Caty fell onto her bottom and Wood scooped her back up and put her back on her feet. “If at first you don't succeed,” he said.

Emmett was also watching in bemusement, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. “I'm picturing the day she goes off to school for the first time, surrounded by all of you,” he teased.

“I think it's a nice picture,” Hawk replied as Caty made it to his outstretched hands. He lifted her in the air. “Don't you, Caty-did?”

“Stop calling her that,” Doll scolded.

Hawk put her down and pointed her in the direction of Jeffrey, who clapped his hands in encouragement.

“Growed men,” Doll said again with a shake of her head. “Pretty soon you'll start singing patty-cake.”

“Only 'cause we learned it from you,” Joey said from the table where he and Edward were involved in a game of two-handed spades.

“You're only mad we took up the floor space first,” Wood said to Doll.

“If I want to get down there, I will move you aside,” Doll retorted.

Wood threw up his hands in concession. “Not going to touch that, because I want my Christmas supper.”

 

 

Tommy and Em, meanwhile, strolled back to the house after a walk to the end of the drive. Every Christmas, they made their way to the welcome sign. Presenting it had been a meaningful moment for both of them, and they spent a few precious minutes each year in remembrance of that day and in appreciation for the blessing of their life together. After the mining disaster, their gratitude had a new dimension.

Although the sunshine was bright, the day was bitingly cold. Frozen snow glistened brilliantly as though countless diamonds were trapped within. Every step they took made the snow crunch. It was a breathtakingly beautiful day.

“I wonder if the hot mulled wine is ready,” Tommy said as they got close to the bunkhouse. His breath fogged in the freezing air.

“Sounds good,” Em agreed.

Nearly at the door, Tommy stopped and turned to her. “My nose is cold, but”—he leaned in to kiss her—“merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she returned.

A burst of laughter came from within and they grinned and hurried inside.

Greg and Charity Howerton were still in their large, elegant bedroom, still in dressing robes, having a lazy morning. They'd slept late and enjoyed breakfast in bed, then exchanged gifts. Charity seemed reticent about handing over the last one, or perhaps she was teasing. He couldn't tell.

“It's not exactly for you,” she said. “More for . . . which one of us needs it.”

“Are you going to let me open it?” he asked, since she still had a grip on it.

She let it go and he tore off the wrapping paper. Opening the box, he saw white fabric. It was soft. He pulled it up and saw it was rectangular, like a small blanket, perhaps three feet by four. It was too large for a scarf, too small for a blanket. And she was watching him so strangely. “Give me a hint. Why would I . . . need this?”

“For the same reason you'd need this,” she said, reaching into a corner of the box where something else was wrapped in tissue paper. It was a rattle.

He jerked his gaze to hers, and she laughed and nodded. And glowed. “You mean—” He was afraid to say it, but she nodded fervently. “A baby?” He had to know for sure.

“Yes. We're going to have a baby.”

He felt delirious and dizzy and overwhelmed—and more gloriously high than he'd ever felt in his entire life. He dropped the blanket and wrapped her in his arms.

His reaction was exactly what she'd hoped for and she clung to him. She'd wanted to tell him her suspicion for over a month, but she didn't want to build his hopes up for nothing. The truth was, she'd worried she was too old to conceive. She was nearly thirty.

As he pulled back to look at her, the burning wood in the hearth popped. “It's the best gift I've ever gotten.”

“Me too.”

“When?”

“July or August.”

He laughed in delight and pulled her back into his arms.

 

 

The Sheffield family climbed into the two-seat sleigh for the short ride to the Blues' for Christmas dinner.

“Ready?” Jeremy asked the children in back. They were sitting close together under a warm plaid lap blanket.

“Can Lucky come, too?” Jake asked.

“He'll follow,” Jeremy said.

“No, we mean with us,” Rebecca wheedled. “Please?”

Lizzie was about to say no when Jeremy whistled to the dog and Lucky jumped in, to the amusement of the children. It took a little coordination and a shuffling of the lap blanket, but then they were off. Laughing all the way.