The Treasure of Christmas (8 page)

“In due time, Myrtle,” said Edith. “I’m sure the children will all hear the truth in due time.”

Finally, Myrtle was done with her coffee, and Edith quietly escorted her out a side door and to her car that was parked in back.

“It’s cold out here,” said Myrtle as she climbed in the car. “I can feel snow in my old bones.”

“I hope so,” said Edith, thankful to change the subject from Santa to snow. “We’ve got a sweet little girl at the inn who is praying for snow.” She looked up toward the mountains and noticed a thick layer of clouds that was accumulating there.

“
Praying
for snow?” Myrtle shook her head in obvious disapproval as she made a
tsk-tsk
sound.

Edith decided not to engage. “All the guests have arrived now. The inn is full.”

“No room at the inn, eh?”

Edith smiled. “Yes, I guess you could say that.” Of course, she was also thinking that it would be nice if a certain room, a room that was occupied by a certain cantankerous woman, would suddenly vacate. However, she could never admit such an ungracious thing to a single soul. Besides, she reminded herself, this Christmas was about being hospitable to strangers. And she’d certainly never had a guest who was any stranger than Myrtle Pinkerton!

All the guests, except Albert Benson, were having tea in the dining room when Edith and Myrtle walked in. It was nice to see they’d introduced themselves and were now comfortably chatting with each other. To her relief, Charles had emerged from his study to join them and was currently talking to Jim Fields about Australia. It seemed that the Fieldses had spent their last Christmas down under. And Lauren and Michael were visiting with little Megan, telling her that they too thought it might snow for Christmas. In many ways, it wasn’t so unlike one big happy family.

Edith introduced Myrtle to the other guests, hoping that this unpredictable woman wouldn’t do something to immediately alienate herself from the rest of the group, but to her surprise, Myrtle seemed in good spirits now. And soon she was visiting with Leslie, examining her knitted vest, and giving her tips on how Leslie could’ve done it even better. Oh, well.

Edith went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea. As she turned on the teakettle, she wondered about Myrtle and what they would do about her. Perhaps it would be best if they restricted her from going to town at all. Edith could offer to fix her simple meals to eat in the kitchen, since she spent half her time in there anyway. But how could they force her to comply? It wasn’t as if they were her legal guardians. Perhaps Charles would have some ideas.

The afternoon tea party slowly broke up, with some people going to town, others to their rooms. Charles joined Edith in the kitchen. “Everything going okay?” he asked, and she suspected that her face, as usual, was giving away her concerns.

So she told him about the little fiasco in town with Myrtle. Of course, this only made him laugh. “I can just imagine the look on poor Drummel’s face,” he said after he’d recovered.

“That’s not all,” she continued, telling him how Myrtle had “invited” everyone to the church’s Christmas pageant.

He shook his head. “Well, don’t worry, Edith, I doubt that it’ll make a difference one way or another. And, besides, I’m sure she meant well.”

“Just the same, I think we should have a talk with her,” said Edith.

“Meaning,
I
should have a talk with her?”

“Well, you’re better at these things . . .

“Perhaps we can make it seem as if she’s our special guest,” said Edith suddenly. “We can tell her that since she doesn’t have a car and it’s difficult for her to get to town . . . that we’d like her to share meals with us. Would that be okay?”

He nodded. “That sounds like a wise plan.”

So they put it to her, and to Edith’s great surprise and relief, Myrtle seemed perfectly fine with this idea. When the three of them sat down to a humble meal of black-bean soup and cornbread, Edith looked out the kitchen window. She saw that fluffy white snowflakes, illuminated by the back-porch light, were tumbling down.

“It’s snowing,” she said with childlike enthusiasm. “Perhaps it’ll be a white Christmas after all.”

Charles nodded. “The weatherman is wrong again.”

“They should hire weathermen with old bones like mine,” commented Myrtle. “Then they’d know for sure if it was going to rain or snow. My joints have been aching something fierce all day.”

“Well, I’m sure that it didn’t help to walk back and forth to town,” said Edith. “Fortunately, you won’t have to do that anymore.”

Myrtle just nodded without commenting, and for some reason Edith wasn’t so sure she was going to be able to keep Myrtle from her anti-Christmas antics. She might have to keep a special eye on this woman during the next few days.

It had been a long day, but it finally seemed as if things were settling down at the Shepherd’s Inn. The guests were all back from their various dinner places. Even the somber Albert Benson had ventured out. Now everyone was in their rooms, and Edith and Charles were turning off the downstairs lights when they heard a knock at the door.

“Who could that be at this hour?” asked Edith.

“We’ll soon find out,” said Charles as he went to open the door. A blast of chilly winter air mixed with snow burst in, and there on the porch stood a young couple.

Edith blinked as she looked over Charles’s shoulder to see them better. These people looked as if they’d stepped right out of time. The tall, narrow-faced man had long brown hair and a full beard, and the shoulders of his dark woolen coat were dusted with snow. But it was the young woman who got Edith’s attention with her sad dark eyes and a cascade of curls beneath a plaid woven scarf that was wrapped around her head.

“Do you have a room for the night?” asked the young man.

Charles looked at Edith, then back at the couple. “I’m sorry, but the inn is full until after Christmas.”

The woman sadly nodded. “I told you they’d be full up, Collin,” she said.

“Why don’t you come in,” suggested Charles. “That way we can close the door and keep the heat inside.”

So the couple stepped into the foyer and, shaking powdery snow from their clothes, they looked around the inn and seemed impressed.

“This is a real nice place you got,” said the man.

“It’s so pretty,” said the woman.

“Where are you two from?” asked Charles.

“Montana,” said the woman. “We’re heading to California.”

“California?” echoed Edith. “Aren’t you a little off course?”

The woman made a half smile. “Well, Collin picked the straightest route going west. Then we planned to head due south to San Diego where his brother lives.”

“But we were having some engine troubles,” explained Collin.

“And then the weather hit,” she added. “It’s a real blizzard out there.”

“And so we thought we’d treat ourselves to a room for just one night,” said Collin. “Just to get cleaned up, you know. But that’s okay, we’re pretty low on funds anyway, we can stay in our bus.”

“Your bus?” queried Charles.

Collin nodded toward the big picture window that looked out over the street. “Yeah, it’s all set up to live in with a bed and everything. Not the Ritz or anything. But comfy enough.”

Edith went over to peer out onto the street, but all she could see was dark shadows and snow flurries.

“Do you mind if we leave it parked there?” asked the woman. “On the street I mean? Just for the night, you know?”

“Or until I have time to tweak on the engine a little,” Collin added. “It’s running pretty badly right now.”

Charles looked at Edith, and she just shrugged. “I don’t see that it’s a problem,” she said.

“You wouldn’t think so,” said Charles. “Not for just one night.”

“Do you need anything?” asked Edith. “Food or anything?”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “We’re low on water. And, hey, if you want to share some food . . . that’d be cool. We’re pretty broke. Just trying to get down to San Diego so that Collin can find work, you know.”

“Come on in the kitchen,” said Edith, forgetting her sign again. “We’ve got some leftovers from dinner that you can have if you like. By the way, my name is Edith, and my husband is Charles.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the woman. “We didn’t even introduce ourselves. I’m Amy and,” she jerked her thumb over a shoulder, “that’s Collin.”

In the brighter light of the kitchen, Edith could see that Amy was quite young. Probably early twenties at the most. And she also appeared to be quite pregnant.

“You’re expecting?” said Edith as she put the bean soup into the microwave to heat.

“Yeah. My due date is actually the first week of January. But my back’s been aching, and I feel as big as a house right now. I wouldn’t mind if it came tonight.”

“Tonight?” Edith felt her brows shooting up. “But what would you do? The hospital is nearly an hour away, and that’s in good weather.”

“Oh, I plan to have it naturally, at home.” She laughed. “Or in the bus.”

“Really?” Edith wrapped a generous chunk of cornbread in plastic wrap and put this into a grocery sack, along with several pieces of fruit.

“You mind if I fill this up in here?” asked Collin as he appeared with a large water jug.

“That’s fine,” said Edith. “Or if it’s easier, go ahead and use the laundry sink out on the back porch.”

Now Charles was in the kitchen too.

“Amy is expecting a baby soon,” said Edith in what she hoped sounded like a calm voice.

“Yeah,” said Amy. “The sooner the better. Although I suppose it might be easier to have it in San Diego. Not to mention warmer.”

“It must be hard on you to travel,” said Charles.

“Not really,” she said. “If my back starts hurting, I just go lie down on the bed. But the bouncing gets to me sometimes. Do you have any idea how bouncy a bus can be?”

Charles just shook his head.

“Here you go,” said Edith as she handed Amy the bag of food. “And you two feel free to come in and get some breakfast in the morning. There’ll be plenty to go around.”

“Seriously?” Amy looked truly surprised.

“Of course,” said Edith. “You’re more than welcome.”

Now Collin emerged with his full water jug. “You guys are way cool,” he said with a bright smile. “I told Amy that there were still a few good people left in this world.”

Charles smiled at them. “Well, let’s hope so.”

They walked the couple to the door and told them good night. “Sleep well,” called Edith as they went back out into the snow. She wanted to add “and don’t go into labor,” but that didn’t sound quite right. Still, she really hoped that the baby would wait until the parents had safely made their destination in sunny Southern California.

“Wasn’t that something?” said Charles as he locked the door.

“They seemed nice,” said Edith. “I wish we had an available room. I’d let them have it for free.”

He put his arm around her shoulder. “I know you would, dear. That’s just one of the many things I love about you.”

And then they went up to bed.

8

“What on earth is
that
?” exclaimed Myrtle when she came into Edith’s kitchen.

“What?” Edith looked up from her daily devotions, trying not to seem as aggravated as she felt. Myrtle was such an early riser that Edith would have to start getting up a lot earlier if she expected to have a decent quiet time these days. As it was, she was already tiptoeing downstairs long before daylight.

“That hideous contraption that’s parked in front of your inn is what.”

Edith went to the living room and looked out the big picture window in front. “Oh, my . . .” Her hand flew up to her mouth as she remembered their late-night visitors. “That’s, uh, very interesting.”

“It’s atrocious!”

“Well, it’s certainly colorful.” Edith smiled to herself as she studied the wild-colored stripes and flowers and geometric designs. “It looks like a hippie bus – straight out of the sixties.”

“I’ll say,” said Myrtle with a look of disgust. “How in the world do you think it got here?”

So Edith explained about the young couple’s unexpected arrival the night before. “We told them it was okay to park there for the night.” She chuckled. “But we hadn’t actually seen their bus since it was dark out.”

“Well, you sure can’t miss it now.”

Even with the thick white cap of snow on top, you couldn’t miss the brightly colored bus. In fact, the clean blanket of snow all around only made the bus stand out more. “Well, don’t worry,” said Edith. “They’ll probably be gone by noon.” Then she returned to the kitchen, dismayed to see that Myrtle was right on her heels. “They’re just a couple of young people, on their way to California, hopefully in time for the baby.”

“Baby?” Myrtle frowned. “You mean people are traveling in that old dilapidated thing and they’re about to have a baby? That sounds plum crazy to me.” She lowered her voice. “Do you think they’re drug people?”

Edith sighed. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I remember when the kids who lived in vehicles like that were all a bunch of druggies. A bunch of social outcasts who wanted to turn on or drop out or something to that effect. Horrible way to raise a baby, if you ask me.”

Edith wanted to remind Myrtle that no one had asked her, but instead she asked her to stir the pancake batter.

Breakfast came and went without an appearance of the mysterious young couple who inhabited the colorful bus on the street. At first Edith felt relieved, as it alleviated the need to explain exactly who these people were to her paying guests. But then, as she was clearing the table and cleaning up, she began to feel some strong twinges of guilt. What if something was wrong? What if they had frozen to death out there? Or what if they’d had a gas leak and were asphyxiated? Or what if Amy had gone into labor and needed medical help?

Finally, Edith was so distraught that she couldn’t concentrate on rinsing the plates, so she pulled on her fleece-lined snow boots and her heavy coat and hurried outside to check on them. Oh, certainly, she felt a bit intrusive as she knocked on the door, but really, what if something was seriously wrong? How could she not check?

After she knocked loudly several times and called out their names, a sleepy-looking Collin appeared at the window and opened the door. He was shirtless and blinking, almost as if he wasn’t sure where he was. “Yeah?” he said in a gruff voice. “Something wrong?”