Christmas With the Colburns (6 page)

Chapter Ten

Late in the afternoon
on Christmas Day, I helped Violet set the table. She had a place for every dish
on the buffet and a purpose for every decoration. Even the wreath on the
outside of the kitchen door was to let passersby know they were welcome to come
and share the feast.

Once the roast was
carved, I hung my apron beside hers on the pantry door and hoped I would
remember to pack it later. I tried not to think about having to leave the next
day as I watched the family gather in the spacious kitchen.

Isabella tapped her
cane as she walked in from the parlor. She felt for her seat at the end of the
table and opened her napkin with a snap. Mr. Colburn pulled out Violet’s chair
for her, and then he moved to the head of the table. John sat at Mr. Colburn’s
left, across from Violet. There was an empty seat beside him and also one on
the opposite side next to Violet.

I stayed by the pantry
door and dithered a moment, unsure about where to sit. My heart longed to be
near John, but it was foolish since I had to leave town the next day. I watched
Violet for my cue, but she didn’t look back at me. I smoothed my lavender
calico dress and straightened Mother’s silver turtle-shaped broach over my top
button. Mr. Colburn noticed me and cleared his throat. John stood and pulled
the chair out beside him. “I am sorry, Hannah. Please, sit here.”

Surrounded by a caring
family, with the stone hearth behind me and a bountiful feast covering the
table before me, my heart swelled with love. Their abundant hospitality
bandaged my wounded soul. Even if I never saw the Colburn family again, I would
cherish that feeling in my heart and draw upon its warmth for the rest of my
life.

Mr. Colburn bowed his
head to say the blessing. I closed my eyes and folded my hands like we did at
church, but John took my hand in his. I flinched and opened my eyes. They had
all joined hands. Violet gave me a wink and Isabella felt along the table for
my other hand.

Mr. Colburn thanked God
for sending His Son into the world and asked God to keep the purpose of
Christmas at the center of the village families’ celebrations. I tried to focus
on Mr. Colburn’s words as he prayed, but all I could think about was John’s
hand holding mine. It was silly to think he meant any more by taking my hand
than Isabella did, but his hand enveloped mine with a dominant firmness. When
Mr. Colburn said ‘Amen,’ John didn’t immediately let go.

Later that evening, I
shook out the apron Violet had given me and took it to the guestroom to pack in
the musty trunk from my parents’ house. I sat on the edge of the bed and traced
my fingers along the seams of its soft quilt. I didn’t want to move to
Riverside, but there were no other options. I sighed and stood to pack, but my
trunk wasn’t in the room.

It must have stunk too
much for Violet to keep in her house. She’d mentioned setting it out in the sun
the day I arrived, but I’d forgotten all about it. I left the guestroom to go
search for it outside.

As I passed Isabella’s
bedroom, I peeked in. She was sitting in the dark in a rocking chair by the
draped window, knitting. “John has it in the barn,” she called out to me.

“Pardon?”

“If you’re looking for
your trunk, John has it in the barn.”

“Why?”

Isabella’s knitting
needles clicked rhythmically. “I can’t speak for him, child. Go out there and
ask him yourself.”

Dusk darkened the yard,
and crickets sang into the cool evening breeze. I ambled through the grass
toward the barn, wishing I could make my time with the Colburns last longer.
One barn door was propped open, and a faint swishy-scratching sound came from
inside.

“Hello?” I called from
the doorway. A lantern’s soft glow filled the open space in the center of the
barn. John was kneeling in front of my trunk, holding a sanding block.

“In here,” he answered.
“Mother had your trunk sitting in the sun all week, but it was still musty, so
I am sanding the inside of it.”

“That’s very
thoughtful. Thank you.”

“I wanted to have it
done before you were finished helping her with the dishes. I am sorry it is
taking so long.”

He might have meant for
me to go back to the house, but I didn’t want to. I glanced around the barn. A
dark horse with a white blaze was peering over one of the stall gates. “Do you
mind if I wait here?”

John shook his head. He
tossed the sanding block onto a workbench and pulled a rag from his back
pocket. As he cleaned the dust out of the freshly sanded trunk, I walked toward
the horse.

The smell of fresh hay
hung in the air and reminded me of my brother. “Charles always works in the
barn in the evenings. He’s probably out working in our barn right now. Only
it’s not our barn any more—it’s his.” I glanced back at John. “And his
wife’s. She hates me. That’s why I couldn’t stay at home. She doesn’t like
anyone and wanted the house to herself as soon as they were married.”

“Hannah, do not give
bitterness a chance to take root.” His hands stopped their work and he gave me
a look of compassion mixed with authority. “This situation is difficult for
you, but God is not surprised by your circumstances.”

I moved away from the
stalls and stepped toward the lantern on his workbench. “You’re right, of
course. It all happened so quickly. I’m done crying for my loss, but now I’m
dreading the journey ahead. I’ve never traveled far. Have you been to
Riverside?”

John nodded. “Once.”

“Was it nice?”

He nodded again and
continued cleaning the trunk. I would have offered to help him, but I wanted it
to take as long as possible so we could keep talking. He was disinclined to
make conversation, but I was determined to hear his voice. “How many days was
your journey with the traders when you went to Riverside?”

“I did not ride with a
trader.”

“Did you take your
parents’ wagon?”

“No. I traveled by
horseback.”

“How long did it take?”

He shook the dust from
his rag and resumed wiping the trunk. “It is a three-day journey, but it took
me longer because I did not go directly to Riverside.”

“Why not?”

“It was during my
overseer training, so I had to stop at other villages too.”

“Was that the trip
where you were supposed to find a wife?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. That came
out wrong. I remembered people in the village talking about your visiting all
of the other villages in the Land. People thought you would come back married.
I’m sorry.”

“It is all right,
Hannah.” A faint smile curved his lips. “When a man is training to be overseer,
he must visit the overseers in each village. And yes, if he is unwed, it is
often when he finds a wife.”

I hadn’t thought of it
before, but it was possible he could be courting someone or engaged. “Did you…
find someone?”

“No. It was not in
God’s timing.”

I was relieved to hear
it even though I was to leave the village in a matter of hours. “My parents are
hoping I will make a match in Riverside.”

“Is that what you
want?”

I shrugged. “I want to
get married someday, but I always imagined it would be here. I guess it’s like
you said: God is not surprised by my circumstances.” I tried to think of
something positive about what I might face. “Maybe God has planned all along
for me to move there and take care of my cousin’s children. I always hoped He
would entrust me with a child’s heart and Cousin Virginia has nine kids, so there
will be plenty of little hearts for me to love. That’s all I really want.”

John stopped working
and gazed at me for a long moment. I wasn’t sure if I had said something he
didn’t like or something he did. He kept his thoughts to himself and his eyes on
me. Finally he gave the trunk one last wipe. Then he dropped the rag and
brushed his hands together. “Would you like to see if this is better?”

“If what is better?”

He grinned and pointed
at the trunk. “The trunk.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “I’m
sure it’s fine. Thank you, again. You didn’t have to do it for me.”

“I wanted to do
something for you. You are a lovely woman. I am sorry for the circumstances
that brought you to our home, but I have enjoyed your company.”

“Thank you.” Hot tears
welled up, but I refused to let them fall. No one had ever spoken to me so
sweetly. He was kind and thoughtful and wanted better for me than a smelly
trunk and a wagon ride to another village. But I was certain I would never see
him again, so I excused myself and ran back to the house.

Chapter Eleven

The day after
Christmas, I thanked Mr. and Mrs. Colburn for their hospitality. I had never
experienced anything like it and told them so. I glanced around their warm
kitchen, wishing I could stay there. The aroma of all the Christmas cooking
still hung in the air. I took a deep breath of it, but as soon as I stepped
outside, I could only smell the nearby ocean.

While John loaded my
trunk onto the back of their wagon, Mr. Colburn put his hand on my shoulder and
prayed for me. I expected him to ask God to keep me safe as I traveled or
something along that line, but instead he prayed that I would delight myself in
the Lord and God would give me the desires of my heart. When he was finished,
Mrs. Colburn hugged me as if I were her child, and for a moment I felt like I
was.

John didn’t speak as he
drove me to the chapel where I was to wait for the trader. It didn’t bother me,
though, because I had grown fond of sitting in silence with him. His presence
alone was comforting. He was a man of few words. When he chose to speak, he
made sure his words mattered. He had my complete respect.

A low fog had settled
across the village during the night, and the morning sunlight had yet to burn
it off. I gave each house and building we passed a long stare, trying to commit
them all to memory—the stone library, the sandy lot where the market was
held each week, Doctor Ashton’s house, and the beautiful white chapel with its
high steeple, stone steps, and black iron railing. I wanted to go inside each
building one last time, only I didn’t want it to be my last time. I wanted to
stay in Good Springs, and all at once I knew that I should. I just didn’t know
why or how.

John pulled the wagon
to the side of the road in front of the chapel. He offered his hand as I stepped
down. I took it, thinking he was only being polite, but when I reached the
ground he didn’t let go. He left my trunk in the wagon and—without a
word—walked me to the chapel’s stone steps.

When he finally
released my hand, he looked down at me. His eyes were filled with kindness.
“Surely there is someone in Good Springs.”

“Someone?”

“Someone you could live
with for a while. A friend perhaps?”

“I don’t know of anyone
with a spare bed. I went to say goodbye to my friend Roseanna on Tuesday and
almost asked her parents if I could stay there, but they already have a house
full.”

John cast his gaze
around the village. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He blew out a breath. “If you
tell my father how badly you want to stay here, he will send word to your cousin
in Riverside.”

“I don’t want to be a
burden.”

“We can find a
livelihood for you here. Surely someone needs help with children, or maybe you
could assist the teacher at the primary school.”

“My father told me to
go to Riverside.”

“I do not want you to
leave.”

My breath caught. I’m
not sure when I let it out or if I ever did. His eyes widened as if he had
shocked himself as much as he had shocked me. He took my fingertips in his
hands and fixed his gaze on me for one exquisite moment. “Hannah, I have never
met a woman like you, nor am I likely to again.”

Hoofbeats clip-clopped
on the cobblestone street as the trader’s wagon rolled into the village, but we
both ignored it. The fog began to lift.

John glanced at my hand
in his. “I am in love with you. Please do not leave. By tradition, I cannot
propose marriage without speaking to your father first, but if you are at all
willing to consider me, stay here. I will follow your parents to Northpoint at
once and speak to your father. I believe God has brought you into my life. If
you feel the same, please stay.”

I have been Mrs. John
Colburn for over five years now. John and I just had our third child—a
little girl we named Lydia. That was Violet’s middle name. I’ve missed her and
Mr. Colburn very much since they passed away. It was Violet’s hospitality that
changed my life and opened my heart on my first Christmas with the Colburns.

I’ve continued her
tradition of preparing a feast on Christmas Day for my family and also for
anyone who might need the hospitality. John and I now have three daughters, so
I don’t know if the next overseer of Good Springs will be a Colburn, but
whoever it is, I pray he too will stay prepared to extend hospitality,
especially at Christmastime.

A strange and wearisome
sadness settled over me after Lydia’s birth. Doctor Ashton says it’s a common
experience for women. I’ve only told Isabella, and she gave me this little
notebook and told me to write about the happiest time in my life thus far. I
didn’t like the idea at first, but she said writing this story would help me
through my sadness. She was right. Thank you, Isabella.