Sleigh Bells & Mistletoe: A Short Story (The Brides Series 1.5) (3 page)

BOOK: Sleigh Bells & Mistletoe: A Short Story (The Brides Series 1.5)
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Pop plucked a few practice chords, delightfully in tune, and soon his fingers were flying over the strings, playing a lively, bouncing rendition of “The One Horse Open Sleigh.”

Isaac and Jem returned then, as if the folksy melody had called to them. Becky eyed them as they strode in. Pop had said they’d gone to the barn, but they didn’t look like they’d been outside. In fact, she didn’t see any sign of cold or snow on them... No coats, no dampened hems. Their cheeks weren’t whipped red by the wind. Their hair wasn’t mussed from wearing a hat. So where had they been? And why did they look like they were hiding something? Why was Isaac so obviously trying not to grin? She could tell that easily enough. She knew every plane and curve of that man’s face. Those laughter lines at the corners of his eyes were crinkled slightly. And, to her mind, Jem seemed just a little too studiously expressionless, as he took his place standing near the mantel.

Hmmm
...

They were obviously up to something. It could simply be one of the surprises they’d planned for the boys, she supposed, but something about the way Isaac glanced at her struck her as...suppressed excitement. As if this particular surprise had less to do with the boys and more to do with her. A nervous little thrill shot through her. What had he done? Would she like it? Perhaps it was nothing at all, just his anticipation of the music. He did enjoy singing. Or perhaps he was simply looking forward to Christmas morning with the boys. Except... some inner voice insisted he was planning some surprise
for her
. Was he? And did it have anything to do with Pop offering to go hunting with her early this morning? And his desire to take a rather circuitous path home? Definitely suspicious. There was some sort of collusion going on—she was almost sure of it.

Isaac came up right behind her and slid his arms around her, tugging her gently but firmly against him. As Pop began to sing, they joined in. She felt the rumble of Isaac’s chest against her back as his pleasing baritone joined her soprano, and Jem’s voice joined in—although with more effort than skill on his part.

 

Dashing thro’ the snow,

In a one-horse open sleigh,

O’er the hills we go,

Laughing all the way;

Bells on bobtail ring,

Making spirits bright,

Oh what sport to ride and sing

A sleighing song tonight.

 

Jingle bells, jingle bells,

Jingle all the way;

Oh! what joy it is to ride

In a one-horse open sleigh...*

 

Pop’s fingers flew over the dulcimer strings, and each time he nodded, the boys gave their strand of sleigh bells a hearty shake. Jake and Levi didn’t quite know every word of the song, but whenever they sang the chorus, they gave it their all, singing in full voice.

A perfect Christmas
, Becky thought.
Or close enough
. A knot of tension loosened in her chest that she hadn’t realized was there until now. The singing brought joy to her heart and a rush of contentment that had everything to do with the sound of music in her home, the sight of her loved ones gathered around her, and the sensation of warmth she felt from being held close by the man she loved.

Pop paused significantly over the dulcimer strings, holding the instrument balanced across his knees. With a decided glimmer of mischief in his eyes, he nodded his biggest nod yet to the boys. They shook the sleigh bells with the greatest vigor as he finished out the song. The noise was deafening...and beautiful. Becky fell silent, simply unable to sing anymore because a rush of emotion had stolen the words. As she snuggled back against Isaac, he stopped singing as well and together they listened to the joyful noise of their two young boys, to a nearly-tone-deaf, but earnest young man, and to an aging, but much-loved, Western-dime-story hero, strumming away.

Isaac bent close and nuzzled Becky’s ear, making her squirm and laugh. She swatted him playfully. At the height of the racket, Pop abruptly stopped playing, laying his hands gently over the strings to still the sound. Jem stopped too and waited as the boys trailed off a little more slowly, their faces red with exertion and the heat of the fire.

They’ll sleep well tonight
, Becky thought. As the last few tinkling jangles of the sleigh bells petered out, she let out a sigh.

They all looked at her with equal expressions of expectation, and she wondered, with a strange rush of power, if they
all
looked to her for approval. What a heady thought.

“Perfect,” she said, clapping madly. She pulled free from Isaac’s grasp—giggling like a girl as he released her with a great show of reluctance—and went to kiss Jake and Levi on their rosy cheeks. She kissed Pop’s forehead, making him grin with evident pleasure. Finally, she pressed a sisterly kiss to Jem’s cheek as well. He immediately turned a bright shade of red, somehow managing to look both ridiculously pleased and embarrassed at the same time.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect.” She returned to Isaac, smiling.

“Not quite,” he said.

“What?” she asked, confused. Wasn’t he the one who’d told her how perfect “good enough” was? This was
far
better than “good enough.”

Not quite?

Not quite what? What more was there?

“This way.”  He jerked his head to one side. For a moment, his eyes met Jem’s, and they exchanged a nearly imperceptible inclination of their heads. A shared look of...anticipation. She could have sworn Isaac’s lips twitched.

Aha! Just as she suspected. They were up to something.

The boys looked on with interest. She peered at them. Were they in on it? Probably not. Isaac knew well enough that they couldn’t keep a secret... If she were keeping a secret, she certainly wouldn’t tell them a thing. They’d just turned three, after all. She wasn’t sure about Pop though. He had his head bent over his dulcimer, plucking a few tuneful chords, as if deciding what he was going to play next. He didn’t look up. That in itself was suspicious. Or at least she thought it was. He had known something about Isaac and Jem’s disappearance earlier, and he’d just as certainly pretended they’d gone out to the barn.

It couldn’t be a present. It was too early for that. They always exchanged their Christmas gifts in the morning. Always.

“What are you up to?” She narrowed her eyes at Isaac, and he pasted on what she could only describe as an overly innocent expression.

 

FOUR

 

             

 

J
ust follow me.” Isaac grabbed Becky’s hand and, with an almost boyish grin, led her to the new baby’s room—or what was meant to be the baby’s room someday. It had been empty—mostly—since he built the house for her several years ago. The only things he kept inside that room were a few crates of old logging equipment pushed up against the back wall.

All of that will have to be moved before the baby comes
, she thought.
One more thing to do.
Only, the crates were too heavy for her to move herself in her current condition. Too heavy for her in any condition. She’d need Isaac’s help. And possibly Jem’s and Pop’s too.

Maybe she could get them to move them to the back of the barn tomorrow...

Although, maybe not on Christmas day. It was their day to relax and enjoy the holidays after all. Besides, in the early days, she and Isaac would have the cradle set up in their own room. So it wasn’t like there was a rush.

But...

But it would be so nice to have it all done. Ready. Like filling her lungs with a big breath of clean fresh mountain air and letting it out.

She told herself it could wait. The baby wasn’t due for another four months or so.

When Isaac urged her to open the door, she saw the room had changed. The boxes of old logging equipment were gone, and the room had been transformed.

Becky gasped aloud, entering the room in a daze and spinning slowly around. There were no curtains at the windows yet. There were no quilts or toys. But on one wall there was a small pine dresser with three drawers. To her delight, she saw Isaac had fashioned wooden pulls in whimsical animal shapes: a mountain horse, an eagle, a squirrel, an owl, and on the top drawer... two lumbering grizzly bears. She paused at the sight, smiling softly to herself before continuing on, taking in a child’s bed with rails and a big round braided rug—in the unquestionably feminine colors of cream and pink.

The room was on the sparse side as yet, but lovely. Absolutely lovely. And absolutely a wonderful surprise. It was a nursery. Or the beginnings of one anyway.


Isaac
,” she whispered. She breathed in deep and instead of fresh mountain air, smelled something a bit more acrid. The scent of burnt biscuits and the burnt pie had clung to their clothes and followed them in, she guessed. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all.

“You made the dresser?” she asked softly.

He nodded, watching her face.

“And the bed?”

“Yep.” Isaac guided her to the center of the carpet, his hand cupped under her elbow.

She could only look around, stunned. This was the big project he’d been working on? How had he managed to do it without giving the secret away? It must have taken him weeks, likely working in the back of the barn. In the cold. In between his work and all his chores.

“You like it?” he prodded.

“Like it?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“So, you
don’t
like it?”

“I
love
it.”

He grinned, smug male pride practically oozing from his pores. Adorably.

She looked down at the cushiony soft braided rug under her feet.

“Pink?” she asked, giving her husband an inquiring look.

“Could be a girl.” He shrugged.

“And if it’s not?” she teased.

“Then you decide what to do with it. Keep it—give it away. Whatever you like.”

He’d ordered this rug special—she could tell that just looking at it. It was beautiful, with a nice sense of depth, woven from what looked to be the finest wool. Probably something he’d had shipped from back East. And here he was acting like it didn’t matter what she did with it.

“It’s perfect.” Her lips brushed his stubble-roughened jaw, which was all she could reach since he didn’t bend down fast enough.

“Not entirely...” he said, as if distracted. He glanced behind him.

“What now?” she asked, laughing as the boys squeezed by her wide skirts and climbed onto the little bed, dragging a stuffed rag doll with them. And the sleigh bells. Loudly.

“What’s this?” she asked, going to them and cradling the doll to her chest, as if it were a real baby. She had long red braids on either side of her round face, her blue eyes and pursed red lips stitched from embroidery thread. Her dress was made of red and gold calico. And there was a certain charming crookedness about the whole construction of the doll that told her it wasn’t a store-bought toy, but hand-stitched, probably with the help of little fingers. “Did
you
make this?” she asked wonderingly, lifting her admiring gaze to them.

“Auntie Catherine helped,” Jake said, beaming.

“I picked out the cloth!” Levi said.

“It’s perfect.” Becky pressed her cheek against the doll’s soft cloth face, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, determined not to cry. Again. When she looked up again, her vision a bit blurred with unshed tears, the boys were staring at her, looking pleased with themselves. Not unlike their father.

“It’s for the new baby, Momma.”

“What if it’s a boy?” she asked.

They stared back at her, evidently stumped.

“Well, I guess it will have to be mine then,” she said in her most practical tone, snuggling the doll close again.

Jake smiled sleepily and plopped sideways on the mattress. He immediately stuck his thumb in his mouth. His eyelids drooped. Levi fell beside him—dragging the sleigh bells along with him like a noisy blanket—and propped himself against his brother’s shoulder. It was a little too early for sleep, Becky knew, and the smallest thing could set them off running any second, but they looked so at home there. So peaceful. And, at least for this one blissful moment, quiet.

“Momma?” Jake plucked his thumb out of his mouth halfway, so he could speak. His eyes were trained on the ceiling above her head. “What’s that?”

“Mistletoe!” Levi cried, pushing off his brother and leaping to his feet. He jumped up and down on the mattress, the sleigh bells jangling madly in his hands. His brother immediately scrambled up and started jumping up and down too. Thankfully, there was no lovingly stitched quilt on the bed, as yet, to get ruined, Becky thought with an amused smile.

She looked up and saw what looked to be a cluster of holly above her head. “Mistletoe? What do you know about mistletoe?”

“Kiss her, Daddy! Kiss her!” the boys cried, punctuating each word with a jump.

“I think that’s holly,” she protested teasingly. Isaac had so obviously nailed the greenery to the ceiling and directed her to this very spot. Also, very obviously, the boys knew all about it. He’d trusted them with a secret, and they’d kept it, amazingly. Her little boys, growing up so much.


That
is not holly,” Isaac said, looking up and considering his handiwork with satisfaction. “
That
is
mistletoe
. I know my foliage, woman,” he added with mock affront.

“I’m sure you do.” She laughed again, looking up into the face of her favorite logger. Isaac knew every tree, leaf, and branch on this stretch of mountain they called home.

“Mistletoe!” a cry came up from one of the boys—she wasn’t sure which, since they were still jumping and trading places often. “Kiss her! Kiss Momma!”

“As good an excuse as any…” Isaac said cheerfully and kissed her softly on the lips.

She smiled and began to pull away, ready to thank him and the boys for their thoughtful gifts and to tell them how pleased and overwhelmed she was. Then she ceased to think altogether, because Isaac tugged her close and was kissing her again—quite thoroughly considering the boys were such a short distance away. He kissed her so thoroughly she had to gasp for breath once he pulled away.

“Oh my,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.

“Now that’s what a man wants to hear after he kisses his wife,” Isaac whispered in her ear, nuzzling her again and making her squeal with laughter until her sides ached. She pressed a hand to her ribs.


Isaac
.”

“Do it again, Daddy!” Levi and Jakob cried in unison. They nudged each other, laughing helplessly until they fell off the bed and collapsed in a heap on the floor. The fall didn’t seem to bother them in the least. “Do it again!” they yelled again, giggling.

“Oh, I plan to,” Isaac said, giving Becky a look of promise that made her go quite weak in the knees.

A high-pitched
yip
sounded behind them.

“What…?” Becky turned and saw Jem standing in the doorway with Pop. And a puppy. A little white pup with two cinnamon colored patches—one on its forehead, right between its adorable floppy ears, and one on its back. She pulled from Isaac’s embrace. “What’s this?”

“A puppy!” the boys cried. In the space of a heartbeat they dashed across the room and started stroking the puppy’s fur. The pup immediately collapsed and rolled onto its back, offering up its stomach to be scratched. The boys giggled.

“Isaac...? Jem...?” Becky looked from one to the other, biting her lip. “What’s
this
?”

“A puppy?” Isaac repeated with a questioning lift, as if this was obvious and, of course, it was, but...

“I know it’s a puppy,” she said in a hushed voice, keeping one eye on the boys. “But
now
? I thought, well, we’d planned to—you know...” She widened her eyes meaningfully. “
Tomorrow
. In
the morning
. On Christmas...”

He shrugged. “Ask Jem.”

“All right, Jem?” She folded her arms across her chest.

Jem rubbed the back of his neck. He looked over his shoulder at Pop as if for help, then to Isaac, and finally down at the boys rolling gleefully on the floor with the dog…anywhere but at her.

“Jem?” she repeated, enjoying teasing him a bit, feeling much like an older sister with a younger brother. He deserved a little tormenting. From the look of things, the puppy had been smuggled in earlier today. Neither he nor Pop had a single speck of snow on them. There was no trail of damp paw prints on the floor. So the puppy hadn’t been out in the barn keeping the horses company all this time.

“He didn’t like the barn,” Jem said earnestly. “Every time I went to check on him, I caught him whining. So we brought him in.” Becky noticed that Jem said
we
not
I
. She also noticed the guilty look on Isaac’s face. “It broke my heart,” Jem continued. “He’s gotten used to being inside.”

Jem had told them the pup had been found in town, a stray. One of Doc’s clients had found him and brought him in. Jem knew the boys wanted a dog, and it wasn’t long before the boys’ request for a dog and Jem’s desire to find it a home became a plan for Christmas. It hadn’t been a difficult decision. Everyone deserved a home, to be loved and cared for, and most especially at Christmas.

Becky could easily imagine the little puppy whining piteously in the barn, likely distressing the horses as much as he was distressed himself. He wanted to be inside with the people.

“You poor thing,” she said.

The puppy furiously wagged his tail, on its belly now. He laid his head on his paws and looked up at her, wiggling his way into her heart by being so very adorable.

Such a good boy.

“You did say he was housebroken, right?” Becky looked at Jem.

“Mostly.”


Mostly?

“I’m a deep sleeper,” he said, spreading his hands in what seemed to her a defensive gesture. She kept her arms folded over her chest, waiting for him to continue. “And Pop snores.”

“So?”

“So I haven’t always heard when he needed to go out. And Pop hasn’t either. That’s all.” Jem shrugged.

“I’ll take him out,” Isaac promised.

With that, Becky relented, only partly serious in her questions and concerns. The truth was she’d always wanted a dog, ever since she was a little girl, but her parents had said the grocers was no place for a dog. Looking at the puppy now, lolling on his side on the floor, so trusting, so supremely happy in the pleasure of their company, she melted inside. It already seemed like it was part of the family. She sighed, her heart taken in by the sight of that sweet face. It had only met them and had already given its affection over. Just like that.

BOOK: Sleigh Bells & Mistletoe: A Short Story (The Brides Series 1.5)
13.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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