Weathered Too Young (32 page)

Lark
sat up in her bed, quickly gathering her hair and
twining it
into a loose braid.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I guess I was just sleeping so soundly.”

“Just throw a shawl over yourself like I did, sweetie,” Katherine giggled.
“Christmas mornin’ isn’t a time to worry about modesty…not with children in the house.”

Lark smiled
and climbed out of bed.
Snatching her shawl from a hook on the wall, she followed Katherine.

“
Well, it
’
s about time,” Tom greeted as she and Katherine entered the parlor.
He sat on the sofa
,
hair tousled
,
wearing only his underwear and a pair of socks.
“
Must
’
ve been
a dang
good dre
am to keep you in bed this long,
”
he
teased
.

“Mornin’,” Slater mumbled.
Charlie was leading Slater by the hand
,
tugging mercilessly on him as if Slater w
ere
a barge and Charlie a tugboat struggling to bring him upriver.

Katherine clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle as Slater reached around with his free hand to secure the trapdoor on his underwear.

“Don’t you have a decent pair of drawers, Slater?” Tom asked.
“It’s Christmas, for Pete’s sake.”

“I’ll pin it here in a minute,” Slater mumbled, collapsing onto the sofa next to Tom.

Slater frowned at Lark when he saw her studying him with amusement plain on her face.
“What’re you grinnin’ at, baby?” he asked. “I can see clean through that there nightgown you’re wearing.”

Lark gasped and looked down at her nightdress.
She’d been sure it was a heavy fabric when she’d purchased it.
Slater’s chuckle and Katherine’s scolding index finger told her he was only teasing her
,
however.
She smiled as she watched him run his fingers through his hair
,
rub
bing
the sleep from his eyes in the exact manner she’d seen Charlie do.

The children
had discovered their stockings and gifts from Santa.
Lark was delighted by the way Slater and Tom watched them—chuckling and elbowing one another with pride in havi
ng made the children so happy.
Katherine was near to weeping.
No doubt Slater and Tom’s efforts had thoroughly touched her heart.
Lark
put an arm around her shoulders
,
and Katherine smiled gratefully at her.

Lark went to the tree. Taking a small package wrapped in brown paper from beneath it, she handed it to Katherine.
“
It
’
s not much, Katie
,” she said.
“
Just a little something to let you know that I care for you
…and that I’m glad you’re here
.
”

“
Oh
, Lark!” Katherine exclaimed. “How thoughtful!
You didn’t have to do this
.
”

Lark smiled, however, as Katherine ca
refully untied the
ribbon securing the paper.
“
Oh!
” she gasped as she studied the dainty gloves.
“Oh, Lark!
They’re lovely
.
Oh, they’re lovely!’

Lark was relieved that her gift of the white crocheted gloves seemed
to
please Katherine.
They’d taken so many hours—so many late hours sitting
by
dim lamplight to manage.
Yet Katherine’s reaction encouraged Lark.

Lizzy
squealed as she found the package Lark had left beneath the tree for her.
“Oh, Miss Lark!” the little girl chirped, removing the small crocheted gloves from her own gift
-
wrappings.
“Oh, they’re just like Mama’s!
Oh, they’re so pretty
.
I never ever had anything so pretty!”
Throwing her tiny arms around Lark’s nec
k, Lizzy hugged her,
whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Lark giggled,
delighted with Lizzy’s reaction to her gift as well.
Lark smiled
with reassured contentment
. She
’
d been
so
worried
everyone
would think her gifts
insignificant or
silly.

“Is there one for me?” Johnny asked, rather tentatively.

“Of course,” Lark told him.
She reached beneath the tree and found her gift for Johnny.
“Here…though I’m worried as to whether or not you’ll like it.”

“If it’s from you, I know I’ll like it,” Johnny said.

“Now there ya go,” Tom said from the sofa.

Lark looked over to see the two underwear-clad men nodding.
Slater looked to Tom and said, “That boy’s even smarter than he looks.” Tom nodded again and chuckled.
Slater changed the tone of his voice and
,
imitating Johnny
,
said, “If it’s from you, I know I’ll like it.”

“We best remember that,” Tom said.

“Yep,” Slater chuckled.

Johnny opene
d the gift and
smiled as he lifted the black
bib shirt
adorned with brass buttons up to study it more closely.
“Oh, thank you, Miss Lark!” the boy exclaimed.
“Thank you
.
It looks just like the ones the cowboys in town wear!”

“You’re welcome,” Lark giggled.
“And I really do hope you like it, Johnny.”

Lark saw the moisture fresh in Johnny’s eyes.
The boy was truly touched by her gift
. Y
et she didn’t want him to let a tear escape over his cheek and feel foolish in front of the men, so she quickly snatched Charlie’s gift from under the tree.

“Here you go, Charlie,” Lark said.
“I-I hope it’s not too…well, I hope you’re not too big a boy to enjoy this.”

“I ain’t,” Charlie said, even though he was still unwrapping the package.

Lark held her breath.
Of all the gifts she’d made, she was most worried about Charlie’s.

Charli
e unfolded the quilt Lark had made.
He was silent for a moment, studying it carefully a moment.
“I know this!” the little boy exclaimed then.
“Mama
,
I know this!
”

Lark still hadn’t taken a comfortable breath.
Yet as Charlie’s face lit up like the sun, she sighed.

“Look, Mama!” Charlie squealed, “It’s Daddy!”

“What?” Katherine gasped.

“It’s Daddy’s blue shirt
.
I remember him wearin’ this shirt, Mama!
Oh, it’s Daddy!”
Charlie turned the
quilt around—smoothed it out on the parlor rug.
“You see, Mama?” the little boy asked.

“I do see,” Katherine breathed.
“I do indeed.”
She looked to Lark a moment before letting her hand travel over the top of the quilt—the quilt with John Thornquist’s shirt stitched to it.

Just after she’d arrived, Lark had been helping Katherine unpack her trunks and get settled into the house.
Katherine had kept all of her husband’s shirts.
She said she planned to cut them down for Johnny to wear—or maybe
, because
he was growing so fast, he’d grow into them before she had the chance to rework them.
Then, when it became obvious that little Charlie was having trouble sleeping—and that the reason was most likely insecurities brought on by the loss of his father—Lark had had a moment of inspiration.

“That’s why you asked me for the shirt, Lark,” Katherine whispered, running her hands over the front of her husband’s shirt that was now securely stitched to the top of Charlie’s quilt.
She looked to Lark, tears brimming in her eyes.
“I thought you planned on cuttin’ it down for Johnny.”
Katherine shook her head.
“But
,
oh, Lark…what a wonderful gift.”

“You see, Charlie,” Lark said
,
taking the quilt from him
,
“
t
his way you
r
daddy can always hold yo
u in his arms at night when you’re
worried or afraid
.
”
She wrapped the quilt around him so that the sleeves of his father’s shirt folded over his arms.
“And I made the other side nice and warm too
.
Isn’t it soft?”

“It’s the softest thing I ever felt,” Charlie told her.
“It feels like…it feels just like…”

“Your Uncle Slater’s old drawers?
”
Lark prodded.

“What?” Slater exclaimed.

“Yes!” Charlie giggled.
“That’s what it is!
It’s so warm
.
It makes me feel happy!”
Lark watched as the little boy softly caressed
his father’s shirtsleeves
,
wrapped the quil
t tightly around him
,
and smiled.
“It’s right cozy, Miss Lark,”
he
giggled
, rubbing
his face against the underside of the quilt made from Slater’s old underwear.

Lizzy giggled.
“Oh, Charlie
,
i
t’s perfect!
Now you’ll always have Daddy and Uncle Slater to snuggle you at night!”

Charlie’s smile broadened
,
and he nodded with newfound comfort.

“Well, that’s why my fanny is always hangin’ outta my drawers,” Slater mumbled to Tom.
“She’s stitchin’ quilts out of my good pairs.”

Katherine brushed the tears from her cheeks, wrapped her arms around Lark’s neck
,
and whispered, “Oh, Lark!
What a treasure you are
.
Thank you
.
Oh, thank you!”

“I hope it helps comfort him…even if it’s just a little,” Lark whispered as the woman cried against her shoulder for a moment.

Slater bit
the inside of his cheek to keep t
he tears that were welling in his eyes
from running down his cheeks.
He heard Tom sniffle and had to fight even harder to keep his emotions in line.
He gazed at Lark a moment—barely able to keep from going over, picking her up
,
and carrying her up to his bedroom to have his fill of her.
The gifts she’d made for Katherine and the children—especially Charlie—they were true gifts from the heart
,
gifts made of love and long, long hours of sewing by lamplight.
God had dropped an angel off on his and Tom’s porch that day a few months back—that was all there was to it.

He studied her for a moment—her soft hair braided so loosely and laying over one shoulder
,
her pretty white nightgown, beneath
which he was certain she hadn’t
taken time to put a corset.
Her cheeks were rosy with joy
,
her lips as soft and inviting as a summer berry on the vine.
He had to have her—had to own her!
Suddenly, the thought of Lark leaving—of her being anywhere that was away from him—caused a sort of desperate panic to wash through him.
He’d come to depend on her smile as a way of finding beauty in each day
,
to depend on her voice to sooth
e
his worries and temper.
He couldn’t do without her, but he couldn’t have her either
. H
e wouldn’t have her.
He thought of the old buzzard he’d seen picking at a dead rabbit a month or two before.
A pretty meadowlark had been sitting
on a
fencepost nearby
and
flew away when the buzzard flapped its wings a
nd
barked a caw.
Lark deserved a young, strong falcon—not a weathered old buzzard.

In those moments, Slater Evans wished he’d never left home to cowboy—wished he’d never spent ten years doing what he’d done after cowboying.
In that moment, Slater Evans wished he hadn’t lived such a hard life—wished he hadn’t been weathered too young.