Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set (40 page)

She shook her head. Her color had gone back to normal.

But Gabe kept going. “Sugar, of course. Some baking powder and one of those fine hanging hams you keep in the back. Make that two of the hams and some eggs. A bag of good coffee, too.” He thought of Daniel and Eliza. “And a few tablets of paper and two pencils.”

He looked down beside him and saw that the children weren’t there. So he leaned closer to the clerk and whispered. “As long as we’re at it, put in a handful of lemon drops for the children. And a good-sized bag of the peanuts you keep on the shelf.”

Gabe stopped before he bought everything in the store. He had heard the shuffling of shoes as he’d been putting in his order so he knew Mrs. Baker and the couple had moved to look at something else. He thought, from the sounds of their voices, that it was a new lantern that had their attention. Fortunately, he had two good ones back at the post.

The clerk turned around and started pulling sacks off the shelves. “Your brother stopped by just after I opened this morning,” he said with his back to Gabe. “Got some supplies—green coffee and beans mostly. A bit of bacon and some of those peaches you like. Signed your name for it. Traveling supplies. He said you’d told him to do it.”

Gabe didn’t get a chance to answer before he heard a woman’s voice coming from behind him.

“Isn’t she adorable?”

Gabe looked over his shoulder in time to see Mrs. Baker bending down to Eliza. When she tilted her head, Eliza looked up at that feather in her purple hat as though fascinated by it.

“Pretty,” Eliza said as she reached for the decoration.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Baker said with a laugh as she straightened up, taking the feather with her. “Isn’t she just precious? I’m so glad we could see her.”

The elderly couple was beaming at Eliza, too.

“She certainly is sweet,” the wife said as she put a gloved hand out to touch Eliza’s cheek. “Perfect really. Our Mary would have wanted that feather, too. This little one reminds me so much of her, standing here like she is.”

Gabe felt himself break out into a cold sweat and he walked over to the three of them. “Eliza’s with me.”

Then he took his niece by the hand and led her back to where Annabelle stood. The couple was still looking at Eliza, though. Their eyes might be uncertain, but they hadn’t turned away.

“I’m her uncle,” Gabe said, scowling at the older man. “Eliza’s got a home.”

“But not a father, apparently,” Mrs. Baker said as she stepped forward, her dress rustling beneath the cloak as she moved. She put her hand to her throat, obviously trying to look sympathetic. “I heard the clerk say that the children’s father had ridden through town this morning on his way to who-knows-where. How will you manage?”

“His name is Adam,” Gabe said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Adam Stone. And we’ll manage just fine. I can provide for the children.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Mrs. Baker said, her voice more strident, “they need a legal guardian and, if their father is away, they might have a problem. We don’t know if he’s ever coming back, now do we?”

“Hush,” Gabe said as he glared at her before he looked down to Eliza.

Mrs. Baker pursed her lips and swished her skirts slightly.

“If you’re so worried about my brother,” Gabe looked up to her and said, “you should be praying for him, not working against him.”

He might not have gone to church much since his mother had taught him about the Bible as a child, but he did know some things.

“Well, I never.” Mrs. Baker drew herself up indignantly.

Gabe didn’t have time to answer her.

Instead, he glanced down to assure his niece. “Don’t worry. Your pa’s coming back.” She looked at him with a tear forming in her eye and he picked her up and settled her against his chest. This time she leaned into him as he patted her.

Eliza was still trembling so he bent close to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to go and get him. Don’t you cry. I know just how to find him. No one can hide from your uncle Gabe.”

Eliza nodded her head against him and she seemed to relax. He felt good that she trusted him to do what she needed. He hoped he wasn’t promising too much. He figured Adam could be found at the biggest poker game around. He’d drink himself senseless and then become convinced he could win his fortune on the turn of a card. If Gabe waited until the game was over, his brother would be easy enough to lead home.

It wasn’t until he had patted Eliza a couple of more times that Gabe realized the girl wasn’t the only one who might be worried after hearing Mrs. Baker’s words. He looked over at Annabelle and saw that her face had gone white.

“He left?” She stood straighter and asked Mrs. Baker.

Something about Annabelle’s voice must have made the other woman cautious. It was likely one thing to terrify a child, another to face an adult.

“Do you know him, dear?” the older woman murmured, her voice softer than it had been.

“I’m his bride-to-be,” Annabelle answered bleakly.

“Oh,” Mrs. Baker said in surprise. The feather on her hat bobbed. “Oh.”

Gabe thought things couldn’t get any worse and then Annabelle looked up at him. “Adam didn’t tell anyone he was getting married?”

Gabe glanced over at the counter. He wished he could climb behind it and hide. “Well, I’m sure he told—” Gabe cleared his throat. “That is—my brother was looking forward to—”

He stopped before he outright lied. Adam had seemed resigned to the marriage, but Gabe doubted it would be any comfort to Annabelle if he said that.

Mrs. Baker stepped closer. “So you’d be the children’s mother, then?”

Annabelle nodded.

“
If
the marriage happens,” Mrs. Baker added, her eyes squinting slightly as she studied Annabelle. Strangely enough, her tone wasn’t unkind even with the words she was saying. “From what I know of Adam, you don’t seem the kind of woman he would seek out. He likes
those
other kind of women, you know.”

Gabe wondered if things could get any worse.

“Adam is a gentleman,” Annabelle replied, her tone icy by now.

Mrs. Baker waved her hand around. “Maybe he was at one time, but surely you can’t think he is now.”

Gabe didn’t like the expression on Annabelle’s face. She looked frozen.

“Adam is a good man. He’s just troubled.” Gabe tightened his arm around Eliza. It was time for some plain speaking. “And the children still have me. There’s no call for an adoption.”

“Well, really,” Mrs. Baker said in exasperation, turning from Annabelle to him. “You’re a man—who lives up in those mountains.” She gave another vague wave to the west. “You can’t expect a judge to believe you know more about raising a little girl than my sister Ethel here?”

Her sister?
Gabe thought. That couldn’t be good.

“I live here now,” he said firmly. He hadn’t stood up in church and made any announcements, but he knew she had seen him sitting there all those Sundays. He’d had his fill of trapping and liked his work with leather. He intended to make a home here. His heart sank when he realized Mrs. Baker might not care where he lived or what he did. She wanted the girl for her relatives. To replace their Mary.

He looked over at the sister and his gaze softened. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”

“Granddaughter,” the woman whispered.

“Granddaughter, then,” Gabe repeated. “But I’m going to keep the children with me until Adam is better. I live in the trading post my father used to run.”

She nodded at him, but didn’t say anything.

“See, what kind of a life—” Mrs. Baker shook her head as she turned to her sister. “A trading post! That poor girl needs a home. Some place warm, filled with love and laughter.” She turned back to Gabe. “Ethel here makes the most wonderful cookies. Why, I doubt you even have a doll for her.”

Mrs. Baker gestured to the one sitting on the shelf behind her.

Gabe had been making Eliza a leather doll for Christmas, but he knew it didn’t compare to the blond painted one on the shelf. That doll’s red cotton dress made it look like a little girl’s dream. He didn’t even have a dress for the doll he was making. He’d planned to cut off a corner of the wool blanket he used on his bed so Eliza could wrap her doll in that.

He could see Mrs. Baker making the same arguments to a territorial judge. One of them usually came to Miles City, too, to spend the holiday with family. Gabe remembered suddenly that he had heard somewhere the man was a cousin to Mrs. Baker.

“I have a good home for the children,” Gabe argued in desperation, realizing no one had mentioned his nephew. They must only want Eliza. It would be the separation of him and Adam all over again. No cookies or dolls could make up for losing a brother.

“Really?” Mrs. Baker’s voice challenged him.

“We’re going to have a Christmas party,” Gabe added. He wasn’t going to let the children be separated. Before he lost his nerve, he jumped off the cliff completely. “You’re invited.”

Mrs. Baker was speechless.

He turned to the couple. “You, too, of course. Please join us.”

Gabe had faced down a wounded bear a few winters ago along the tree line heading up to the Rockies. He knew what it was to bluff when a man was in a fight to survive. He figured unless he gave some invitation like this, Mrs. Baker would decide to visit on her own. She’d even bring the judge along. She’d look for every reason to say he wasn’t providing a good home for the children. But, if she thought he really had an adequate place, she wouldn’t bother. Everyone was busy close to the holidays.

“What time?” Mrs. Baker asked then.

Gabe kept his expression neutral. The secret to a successful bluff was to not flinch. “Five o’clock, Christmas Eve. Just before dark.”

He congratulated himself on making the hour late. Most people preferred to be snug at home by then.

“I’ll be there,” Mrs. Baker said. “My husband is on a business trip and won’t be home until after Christmas.”

“We’d love to come, too,” the wife of the couple said with a look at Eliza. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spent Christmas Eve with a little girl. We lost our own Mary about this same time last year.”

Gabe figured he was fortunate he’d survived his encounter with that bear. His instincts were off. At least, this certainly wasn’t going the way he had expected.

Just then there was the tinkling sound of fine glass breaking. Gabe had an ominous feeling as he turned around and saw Daniel standing by the far counter, a stricken look on his face and the sleeve of his coat trailing over the top of the now-bare display case.

“I only wanted to touch it,” the boy said, his voice trembling, as he looked down at the shattered pear ornament.

“Look what he’s done!” Mrs. Baker said as she turned to Gabe. “That boy needs a good whipping. Someone needs to teach him how to behave.”

“Daniel is a fine boy,” Gabe answered back firmly and was rewarded when the boy lifted his eyes to him in gratitude.

“Nonsense—he’s running wild,” Mrs. Baker retorted. With that, she put her nose in the air. “You’ll have to pay for that, you know.”

Gabe heard the catch in Daniel’s breath.

“I planned to buy both of the pears anyway,” Gabe said calmly. And the thought had run through his mind.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mrs. Baker turned to scold him, her face twisted in disgust. “What would you do with an ornament like that anyway?”

“We’ll put it on the Christmas tree in our home,” Gabe assured her. “Like every other fine family this holiday season that owns one of them.”

“Well, I never,” the older woman said with a sniff as she turned to leave. She led the couple over to the door and out of the store.

Gabe watched them go, wondering how he was going to transform his trading post into a suitable home in three days. Then he remembered that neither Mrs. Baker nor her relatives knew where he lived.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Some of the soldiers at the fort would have been around here long enough to remember his father’s trading post, but Mrs. Baker wasn’t likely to be friendly with any of them. He and the children were safe. All they needed to do was to stay away from Miles City until all of Mrs. Baker’s family left town, especially the judge.

He looked up when he heard the door open again. The gentleman had returned.

“That’s the old trading post the men used from Fort Keogh, isn’t it?” the man asked.

Gabe nodded.

“Good. Our son—Mary’s father—was assigned to the fort some years ago. I know just where it is.”

Gabe almost wished that bear had gotten him. How was he going to put on a Christmas party?

He turned back to the clerk and pulled a gold coin from his pocket. “This should cover both pears.”

The clerk’s eyes grew big. “You don’t have to buy the second one. Don’t let Mrs. Baker give you a hard time. I’ll talk to the owner about the broken one, too. It was an accident. We’ve had those pears on the shelf for three years now. The owners didn’t think we’d ever sell them.”

“I know. I still want the second one.”

The clerk looked at him like he had lost his senses. First, French pins and then German fruit. Gabe didn’t say anything, but he would spend every penny he had if it would make Daniel stop looking at the floor in shame and cause people like Mrs. Baker to think the children were safe in their uncle’s hands.

He looked over at Annabelle. He’d spend even more to see her eyes smile at Christmas.

* * *

Snow covered the ground beneath the moving wagon as Annabelle sat on the front seat. Everything around them was white, too, she admitted as she shifted on the wooden planks, trying to keep the buffalo robe from touching her too closely. She had no idea what kind of vermin were crawling around on the hide even though the children were snuggly wrapped in another such robe behind her and they didn’t seem bothered by anything. She had been eager to leave the mercantile and now she was regretting it. Being humiliated was actually slightly more bearable than freezing to death, she realized.

“You could have told me Adam had left,” she complained softly to Gabe as she shifted the robe closer. Her hair felt like it was freezing solid to her scalp. At least, she had been able to slip her hat under the wool blanket that Gabe had put over the supplies in the back of the wagon. The poor headpiece was probably warmer now than she was although she couldn’t answer for its shape after being whipped around in the wind the way it had been.