The Christmas Journey (26 page)

“You’re planning to work there yourself?”

“You doubt I could do it?”

He was twisting her words. “Of course not. I just thought—”

“At any rate, that’ll be my worry, not yours. Do we have a deal?”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

He nodded. “I’ll draw up the papers tonight and establish
an account at a bank here in town. The initial funds will be transferred before I leave.”

Josie didn’t know how to respond so she merely nodded. The sound of Mr. Wallace clearing his throat reminded her they weren’t alone. She pasted on a smile and turned to Viola. “Aren’t the carrots flavorful tonight?”

Viola nodded, but Josie didn’t miss the troubled look she gave both her and Ry.

Ry pulled off his boot and tossed it across the room, mentally berating himself. How could he have let his temper get the best of him at dinner tonight? Especially in front of Viola. It was unforgivable.

He pulled off the other boot and set it aside. At least he’d partially redeemed himself. By getting Josie to agree to his becoming her partner in the livery, he now had a legitimate reason to keep an eye on the Wylie household and a way to know Josie had enough money to see her through the next few months.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. Why couldn’t Josie see what she was giving up? Didn’t she realize what a treasure she had in her family, how much he envied her their closeness? Her decision was not only short-sighted, but hurtful to the family she was leaving behind.

His grandfather was using her own dreams, and her sympathy toward his alone-in-the-world state, to manipulate her. Maybe the man wasn’t doing it consciously or maliciously, but it was happening nonetheless.

The thing was, the man had no one to blame for that aloneness but himself. He’d never once invited Griff or Sadie to visit, had never made an effort, with that one eventful exception, to travel to Texas to visit them.

The man wanted family around him, but on his own terms.

But he could never explain that to Josie—it was something
she’d have to learn for herself. He just didn’t understand why such a normally sharp woman hadn’t figured it out already.

Ry paused in the act of unbuttoning his shirt.

Hadn’t he allowed himself to be manipulated in the same way?

Is this how Griff had felt? Betrayed and disappointed? Had his father gone to his grave believing Ry preferred what his grandfather had to offer over the legacy he’d built with his own hands?

Ry moved to the window, leaning one arm against the frame, staring unseeing at the night sky.

He owed Josie an apology. She wasn’t making the choice he’d wanted her to, she wasn’t even making the choice he believed would make her happy. But she was staying true to her dream, standing up for herself, the same way he’d stood up to his grandfather this afternoon.

And, if he
really
loved her, he should trust her and not try to make her feel miserable for doing it.

Still, he couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the life they could have built together.

While he was being so honest with himself, he might as well admit that Josie wasn’t the only one he owed an apology to. In fact, he owed Griff much more than an apology. He hoped Viola wouldn’t mind a slight delay in their return to Knotty Pine, because a stopover at Hawk’s Creek was definitely in order.

Father, forgive my arrogance and the hurts I’ve inflicted on others, both the deliberate and the negligent. Help me exhibit the patience and humility I’ll need in order to mend fences with Griff. And most of all, look after Josie, help her find the happiness and fulfillment she seeks, wherever that may be
.

Josie’s pulse jumped as the train whistle sounded. The bitter cold she felt came as much from inside her as from the weather.

Ry set down his bag and took her hand, staring deep into her
eyes. “I want you to know, while I don’t agree with your decision, I understand about needing to follow your dreams. I wish you nothing but the best and will be praying every day that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Ry, I’m so sor—”

He touched a finger to her lips. “I know. It’s okay. And don’t worry about Cora Beth and the others—I’ll keep an eye on them.”

She nodded, doing her best to swallow the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand. “Just please, if you ever change your mind, don’t let your pride, or anything else for that matter,” he glanced toward his grandfather, “get in your way.”

The whistle sounded again and Josie bent down to give Viola one last fierce hug while Ry shook his grandfather’s hand. “Take care of your Uncle Ry for me, okay?” she whispered in the child’s ear.

Viola nodded. “I wish you were coming with us.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll be back for a visit real soon. And I’ll write lots of letters.”

“Time to go.” Ry lifted Viola with one hand and within seconds the two of them had disappeared inside the train.

Josie pulled her cloak tighter across her chest, shivering as she watched the train pull out of the station. Up until this very moment she’d thought—hoped—Ry would change his mind and decide to stay.

“Don’t worry, my dear.” Grandfather Wallace patted her arm. “That boy loves you—it’s obvious to anyone with eyes in his head. He’ll see the light and come back to you.”

Josie smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. Somehow, she didn’t feel as confident as he did.

“Y
ou did a marvelous job selecting a tree.” Cora Beth held the door open while Ry and Danny dragged in the large fir.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Ry let down his end and rolled his shoulders. “But I just did the chopping. The kids picked it out.” And with each of them eyeing a different specimen it took quite a bit of finesse to steer them to one everyone could agree on.

“Well, then, good job everyone.” She clapped her hands the way a schoolmarm would. “Girls, while Mr. Lassiter and Danny set the tree up in the parlor, you can help me get down the box of decorations.” She gave Ry and Danny a stern look. “And see that you mind my carpets.”

Ry turned to Danny, flexing his muscles with exaggerated display. “You heard the lady. We have work to do.”

While working together at the livery and sharing some of the heavier chores around the boardinghouse, he and the boy had developed a close relationship. Ry found himself teaching Danny some of the things his own father had taught him.

Like how to handle an ax properly and how to fix loose shingles on the roof. Like how to select the best rocks for
skimming across a pond and how to tell a dog’s tracks from a fox’s. Like how a man looked out for those in his care and how important a man’s word was.

But for today, they were merely two menfolk exchanging indulgent expressions while following orders from their womenfolk.

Twenty minutes later the tree was standing tall and proud in the parlor and the box of ornaments had been ceremoniously opened. Sitting on the very top was a stack of paper snowflakes, some looking fairly new, others yellowed with age.

“It’s a family tradition,” Cora Beth explained. “Each of us has our own special snowflake that we hang on the tree every year.”

Audrey lifted the elaborately cut paper decorations out of the box. “We each get one of these our very first Christmas,” she explained. “It has our name and the day we were born written right on it.”

She lifted one from the stack. “See, this one’s mine.”

Cora Beth fetched two similar decorations from the mantle. “I hope you don’t mind,” she told Ry, “but I made one for you and Viola last night. I thought, since this is your first Christmas here and you’re like part of the family now, it was only fitting.”

Ry saw Viola’s face light up and offered Cora Beth his heartfelt thanks.

“Think nothing of it. The tree will look the nicer for the addition.” She handed them the lacy bits of paper. “Now, let me get you something to write with.”

As Ry added his name and birth date to the center of the snowflake, he noted that five of the ones taken from the box remained on the table, unclaimed. One of them would be Josie’s.

Was she missing this or any of the other holiday traditions her family celebrated? The tree at his grandfather’s was more grand but the trimming of it much less personal than this little ceremony.

Still, spending Christmas with Josie would have made even
the most sterile of decorations shine. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her, how many times he had a thought he wanted to share, a decision he wanted her opinion on. Would the hole she’d left in his life ever heal?

Cora Beth brought his thoughts back to the present as she gathered up the leftovers. “All right now. Pippa, I believe this is your year to hang the star on the top, so we’ll let Lottie hang your father’s snowflake. Audrey, you can take Grandma Emma’s and Danny, you take Grandpa Bert’s. I’ll take Aunt Pearl’s.” She held up the last one and her smile drooped for a second. Then she turned to Viola. “Would you like to hang Jo’s for her?”

Viola nodded, accepting the somewhat rumpled decoration with the care one would afford a fragile piece of crystal.

“All right then, let’s get the snowflakes up and then we’ll tackle the rest of these.”

Once the snowflakes were duly hung, the rest of the tree trimming took place with a great deal of playful teasing. Danny and Audrey argued over whose snowflake showed to the best advantage. Pippa and Lottie tended to place any ornaments they hung at the very bottom of the tree and called foul whenever anyone tried to rearrange them. Viola placed her ornaments with a precision that earned her her own share of teasing.

And the adults were encouraged to admire the youngsters’ handiwork, and listen to them as they shared bits of stories that had become part of the history of each ornament—the lacy dragonfly that Cora Beth had made for Uncle Grover, the silver rattle that had been found in Danny’s belongings, a clay angel that had gotten chipped when Audrey dropped it four years ago, a small wooden train engine Josie had purchased from a tinker when she was twelve.

That last sent Ry’s thoughts in a direction he had to force himself to turn back from.

When it came time for Pippa to place the star at the top, Ry was enlisted to lift her up.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Audrey asked.

“I have something I’d like to add, if it’s okay,” Viola offered tentatively.

“Why of course, dear.” Cora Beth gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s your tree too.”

Viola took Ry’s hand. “I need to get something from Ma’s trunk.”

“All right.” Ry led her upstairs and into his room. She went immediately to the trunk and, after a few minutes of rummaging around, pulled out a battered hatbox. “Here it is.”

Curious, Ry followed her back to the parlor.

“What’s that?” Audrey asked.

Viola opened the box, to reveal a rough-hewn wooden nativity set. She lifted out the figure of Joseph. “My pa made these before I was born. Every year at Christmas, we would set them out under our tree.”

“How lovely.” Cora Beth fingered one of the pieces. “Your pa was very talented.”

“Can I help set it up?” Audrey asked.

Ry watched the two girls with heads bent together, adjusting the pieces until they thought each one was placed just right.

How could Josie possibly want to trade this away for some other life?

Josie walked downstairs, feeling out of sorts this morning and not quite sure why.

The business was going well—almost too well. She’d already had requests for more cakes than Cora Beth could possibly produce. Ry’s grandfather had counseled her not to be afraid to turn down orders. It gave the product a feeling of
rarity, he’d said, of exclusivity, that would only add to the demand for it.

But he also advised her to write to Cora Beth and work out how they might increase production in the future. Once their reputation was set, it would be good business to take advantage of at least a portion of that increased demand.

And she’d had another new experience this week—snow. Not the dusting of flakes they sometimes got back home, but a true, piled high, sink your feet into, perfect for making snowballs, snowfall. Her first thought had been how much Danny and the girls would enjoy playing in it. Grandfather Wallace had listened to her chatter excitedly about it with a sort of amused tolerance for the first few minutes, but then returned to reading his paper.

So she’d gone out by herself, finding a few of the neighbor’s children outside to share her enjoyment. Which was fine, really. She’d always known, once she was able to travel, that she’d look to the locals for company.

So why wasn’t she happier about how things were going? She was just at loose ends, she supposed.

Josie stepped into the parlor, then halted on the threshold. A large tree was set up by the window, decorated with beautiful glass ornaments. Cora Beth would love their fragile beauty and the gaily colored ribbons all tied in perfect bows. The girls would “ooh” and “ahh” over the gilded angels. And wouldn’t Danny just love the tin soldiers?

There was no popcorn garland hung on this tree. Instead it was draped in strings of pearl-like beads.

Who had set it up? And when?

The housekeeper appeared in the doorway. “Good morning, Miss. Mr. Wallace asked me to inform you that he would be down shortly to join you for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hopkins.” She halted the woman’s exit with a raised hand. “By the way, I was just admiring the tree.”

“Yes, Miss. Quite lovely, isn’t it?”

“Very pretty. Who decorated it?”

“Why, me and the rest of the staff, just like always. We did it early this morning.”

“And who picked out the tree?”

“Mr. Nichols, same as usual.”

“Well, you all did a wonderful job.”

The woman gave her a bright smile. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell Agnes and Nichols you said so.”

Josie studied the tree again, feeling deflated. She supposed every family had their own traditions. But this seemed so impersonal, so…empty. There was no searching until you found the perfect tree. No teasing as you hung the ornaments. No reminiscing over Christmases past.
No sharing
.

She supposed they’d put up the tree at home—after all, it was only six days until Christmas. Had Danny cut it this year? He was certainly old enough to handle the job. She’d probably have turned it over to him soon enough anyway.

This would be Ry and Viola’s first Christmas together. How were they doing? She felt a soul-deep longing to be there to share it with them.

Cora Beth had said in her letter that they were staying at the boardinghouse for now, but that Ry had started laying the groundwork for his own place. Things seemed to be moving along nicely without her.

“There you are, my dear. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Mr. Wallace looked past her. “Ah, I see the tree is up. What do you think of it?”

“It’s quite impressive.”

He seemed pleased with her answer. “Glad you like it.

“I hear you had a busy day yesterday,” he commented as he escorted her in to breakfast.

“Yes, sir. I’ve actually turned away several orders.”

“What did I tell you? The cake practically sells itself.”

“I’ll admit, the price you advised me to set seemed mighty steep for a cake. I wasn’t sure anyone would order it for that sum.”

“You must put a high value on your product if you expect others to do likewise.”

She pushed the food around on her plate, feeling at loose ends. “I find myself free today.”

“I’ll tell Nichols to put the carriage at your disposal. Perhaps you can visit some of the shops on State Street.”

Not the answer she’d hoped for. She tried a different topic. “How do you usually spend Christmas day?”

“Well, we’ll attend church services first. Then afterward the Havershams have invited us to join them for their Christmas dinner and the Caldecotts have asked us to stop by for a small evening gathering.”

“Don’t you have your own holiday traditions?”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “Sentimentality is not my strong suit, I’m afraid. But if you’d like to host a holiday gathering, I can get Mrs. Hopkins to help with the preparations.”

That wasn’t at all what she’d been thinking. Besides, she didn’t really know anyone here. “No, no, it was just idle talk.”

“As you wish. But speaking of Christmas, the Havershams are a bit stuffy I’m afraid, but Joseph Haversham has been a faithful client for thirty years, so I wouldn’t dream of offending him. And as for Charles Caldecott…”

Josie listened with half an ear as he talked about the two households they would spend Christmas with. After breakfast, he headed directly to his office. Not wanting to face that too-perfect tree again, she bypassed the parlor and returned to her room.

She stood at the window, staring at the snow-covered street. Perhaps she would visit Independence Square today, or maybe the market. She felt the urge to be outdoors, to see trees and breathe fresh air, even cold and damp as it was.

A passerby stepped onto a patch of ice and waved his arms, barely avoiding a fall. It put her in mind of the afternoon in Eastwick Park. Closing her eyes she recalled the invigorating feel of skimming across the ice with Ry holding her safe at his side.

Maybe she’d go back there today, practice up so that the next time Ry—

She stared at her reflection in the glass, studying the unhappy-looking stranger staring back at her. There wouldn’t be a next time with Ry. And skating alone held no appeal for her.

Josie plopped down on her bed as she had a sudden, sickening moment of clarity. What had she done?

Heavenly Father, I’m an ungrateful wretch. Here You’ve given me all I asked for, and I’m still unhappy. I just never realized how lonely I would be. Maybe I’m not as much like Aunt Pearl as I thought. Because I finally figured out what Ry meant when he said it’s not where you are so much as who you’re with.

Your word says You have plans for us, plans to give us hope and a future. So I’m figuring that maybe Your plans included me learning this lesson. Trouble is, now that I’ve figured it out, I don’t know what to do about it. I already threw Ry’s proposal back in his face so I’m the last person he wants back in his life. And Cora Beth and the others are probably not real happy with me, either. My showing up in Knotty Pine right now would be plumb awkward for everyone.

So You see my puzzlement. Please help me figure out the right thing to do.