Dec 2020 - A very quiet Christmas

I thought I would keep it very simple for this year's festive (if you wish) story...

Since this is what many of us will be having - please let your creativity consider our favourite ex-outlaws having


A very quiet Christmas

It's been a looong time since the challenge prompt has given me any ideas for writing, but this month it generated a little inkling for a short tale.  

~~~~~~~~~~~

A Very Quiet Christmas


“Aint it just our luck!” Kid Curry said breathlessly, as he manoeuvred his horse around an outcrop of rock and pushed it on up the steep incline.

“What?” Heyes’ voice came back irritably from behind him.

“Two days to Christmas and we have to get chased by a posse!”

They’d been minding their own business in Buford, midway between Cheyenne, where they’d spent the last couple of days gambling to boost their flagging finances, and Porterville, where they were headed with the intention of visiting Lom. Their visit had been cut short however, when the Sheriff in Buford had recognized them.  Leaving town in a hurry, the Sheriff had organized a posse to track them.

They were now up in the high country around fifteen miles North West of Buford and the posse were still pursuing them.

“It could be worse.” said Heyes, as he too turned his horse around the outcrop of rock Curry had just negotiated.

“How do you figure that?” Curry replied, nonplussed.

“Today could be Christmas.”

Curry merely grunted.

“We’ve still got time to lose this posse and make it to Porterville by Christmas Day.” said Heyes, hopefully.

“Maybe.”  Curry said doubtfully.

They pushed their horses onwards, as fast as they could go.  They were quite high up now and had a clear view of the forested landscape below.  Ordinarily they would have stopped and taken in the beauty of the scenery, but the only thoughts on their mind right now were on getting away from the men chasing them.

“You know, Heyes, just for once, it would be nice to have a quiet Christmas.” growled Curry. “A nice play to stay, miles away from anyone trying to catch us, with a big log fire, a huge turkey dinner, and a nice brandy and cigar afterwards.” He sighed, picturing it in his head.

“That would be a very quiet Christmas.” said Heyes. “Not sure I’d want it to be that quiet.”

Curry nodded to himself.  Heyes’ gregarious character would no doubt be more suited to Christmases like the ones they’d had back at the Hole, drinking and gambling and raucous socialising with the rest of the gang.  

They had reached the peak of the range of hills now and the landscape was starting to even out a little, giving them a chance to pick up speed.

Suddenly, a shot rang out.  Heyes’ horse stumbled and then collapsed, throwing him over its head to land heavily on the hard ground.

“Heyes!”  Curry wheeled his horse around and hurriedly dismounted, running across to his friend’s side.

Momentarily dazed by the fall, Heyes was attempting to sit up as Curry reached him, putting a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked, with concern, noting a cut just over his right eyebrow from which blood was beginning to trickle.

“I - I think so...” Heyes said, groggily, holding a hand to his head.

“We need to get out of here, they can’t be far away.” said Curry, scanning the area for a sign of where the shot had come from. It was fortunate that they were in between a couple of large rocks that were shielding them, for the moment, from further shots  

They both looked at Heyes’ horse, which lay dead a few feet away.

“You’ll have to ride with me.  Come on.”

Heyes attempted to get up but then sank down again with a yelp of pain.

“What is it?”

“My leg… I think it’s broken…”

Curry quickly knelt to examine his right leg, a frown creasing his brow.

“You’re right.  Looks like it’s fractured about here.” he said, pressing a spot midway between his knee and ankle, making Heyes flinch and suck in his breath.

“Let me help you.” Curry aided him to his feet and then, pulling Heyes’ arm over his shoulder and wrapping his own arm around his waist, he supported him as he hopped across to Curry’s horse.   With an effort, Curry boosted him up onto the horse, and then hurriedly retrieved Heyes’ belongings from his horse and secured them with his own before climbing up behind him and heading off as quickly as the horse could traverse the rocky ground.

Another shot rang out but bounced off some rocks a few yards away.

Curry tried to pick up speed as they weaved in and out between large rocks and boulders, while Heyes hung grimly on, trying to keep his balance while at the same time keeping his injured leg away from the horse’s side.  More shots were fired but none reached their target.

Presently, they came upon a creek and Curry quickly turned the horse into it, hoping it would cover their tracks and allow them to get out further upstream and lose the posse.

Luckily, the banks of the creek were thickly forested which would help prevent the posse spotting them.

“Are you O.K?” Curry shouted to Heyes, as the horse cantered through the bed of the creek.

“Yeah.” Heyes called back, but Curry could tell from the tone of his voice that he was in considerable pain.

Curry looked at the sky.  It would be dark in three or four hours and he had no idea where this creek was taking them.  Even if they managed to lose the posse, by his best guess, the nearest town from where they were was Laramie, probably a good twenty five miles to the west, too far to reach before nightfall and Curry wasn’t keen on travelling through this unfamiliar landscape after dark, which would mean camping out, not ideal given Heyes’ injury.

They rode through the creek for over an hour before getting out at a spot where the bank was grassy and would leave little in the way of tracks.  Curry dismounted and swept the bank with a tree branch to cover up the few tracks the horse’s hooves had left and then remounted and turned westwards.

Conversation between them was sparse. Heyes, shaken and bruised from the fall from his horse and in pain from his injured leg, wasn’t in the mood for idle chit-chat and Curry was focussed on the trail, trying to keep to the smoothest path, not only to save Heyes from being shaken around but also to try and protect the horse.  They couldn’t afford for it to be injured by something or become lame and leave them stranded out here in the middle of nowhere.

The sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon when Curry’s eye was suddenly taken by something.

Turning, he spotted an old cabin a couple of hundred yards away amongst the trees.

“Hey, look, Heyes. An old cabin.”

Heyes, who had been on the verge of sleep, roused himself and turned to look.

“Looks like a good place to spend the night.” he said.

Curry turned the horse in the direction of the cabin and approached cautiously.  It was unlikely they would find anyone here, in the middle of nowhere, but you could never be sure.

He brought the horse to a halt and dismounted, drawing his gun and going up to the door, rapping on it loudly.

On receiving no response, he opened the door and walked inside.  

It was just one large room with an old wood cook stove in one corner, a sink and a cot.  Curry couldn’t imagine who had erected the cabin way out here, or for what purpose, but he was thankful they had.

Holstering his gun he went back outside.

“This’ll do just fine.” he said.

He crossed to help Heyes down from the horse and supported him while he hopped inside the cabin.

“Here, take this cot.” said Curry, helping him down onto it.  “I’ll get some wood to light the stove and then I’ll see if I can make a splint for your leg.”

“Thanks.” Heyes said, gratefully.

Within a short time Curry had the stove going and had located some stout branches and made a secure splint on Heyes’ leg which would protect it until they could get to a doctor.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked, as he finished the task.

“Some.” Heyes acknowledged. Curry knew it was an understatement.  He’d broken bones before and knew how painful it was.

Curry then poured some water from his canteen onto his bandana and carefully bathed the cut on Heyes’ forehead, around which a large bruise was already forming.

“Owww.” protested Heyes.

“Sorry.” said Curry, as he finished treating the cut. Then, crossing to his saddlebags he fished out a half full bottle of whisky, pouring a measure into a cup and handing it to him.  “Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” Heyes took the cup and downed the whisky.

“Get some rest.” Curry told him, taking the cup from him.

He went outside, into the fast fading light, to tether his horse to a nearby tree and unsaddle it, before carrying the remainder of his and Heyes’ belongings inside and depositing them on the floor.  It was dark in the cabin now but, having left the door of the stove open, the burning wood gave the room an ambient glow as well as spreading warmth.  

Closing the cabin door he turned towards Heyes only to see him fast asleep.

He stoked up the stove to keep it going through the night and then laid out his bedroll on the floor in front of the door of the cabin so that if anyone should try to enter during the night his body would prevent it opening and, the movement would alert him.

This done, he settled down to sleep.

He woke at sunrise and stoked up the stove.  Heyes did not stir.

Worried, Curry bent over him to listen to his breathing.  Heyes usually slept like a cat, alert to any noise or movement, and he was concerned that perhaps he had sustained some injury, in the fall from his horse, that hadn’t manifested itself at the time. But, his breathing was even and, placing the back of his hand gently to his forehead, he felt no sign of a fever.  

Leaving him to sleep he went off to try and find them some food.

When he returned two hours later, Heyes was awake.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked anxiously.

Curry held up two dead rabbits.  “Finding us some food.” he smiled.

“Oh.”  On waking up and finding the cabin empty Heyes had been concerned that something had happened to him and had been slightly panicked at the thought of being stranded here alone, with his injured leg.

“How’re you feeling?” Curry enquired.

“My head feels a bit woozy and I’m stiff.”

Curry nodded.  That wasn’t surprising after his fall the previous day.  “How’s the leg?”

“It’s better with the splint on,” he said. “but still painful.”

“I don’t guess you’re gonna be up to travellin’ today?” Curry gave him a questioning look.

Heyes sighed. “I’d rather not, Kid, unless you think it’s really necessary.” he said presently.  In truth, his leg hurt like the devil, he felt nauseous and light headed, and just wanted to sleep, but if his partner felt they were in any danger and needed to leave, he would do so.

The relief on his face was obvious when Curry said. “I think we should be OK here for now.  Looks like we lost the posse, I caught these rabbits and we’ve got some beans, so we won’t go hungry, and there’s a little stream about a quarter of a mile away so we can fill our canteens and there’s plenty of wood around to keep the stove going.”

“Thanks.” Heyes said, gratefully.

Curry smiled.  “You rest.  I’ll get to work on one of these rabbits.”

“O.K.”

Curry set to work on skinning and preparing one of the rabbits ready for them to eat that evening.  When he’d finished he took his and Heyes’ canteens and headed off to the small stream to refill them and on his way back picked some berries that they could have for their ‘dessert’.

When he arrived back at the cabin Heyes was once again asleep, so he went back outside and found a nice grassy spot a short distance from the cabin and lay down to enjoy the afternoon sun. It was fortunate that winter had been mild so far this year and there was, as yet, no snow.  It was chilly but, wearing his sheepskin coat and surrounded by trees that kept the wind at bay, it was quite pleasant.  After the lengthy chase from Buford, the previous day, it was especially pleasant to just lie back and enjoy the peace and tranquillity of their surroundings.  Folding his arms behind his head, he stared up at the crisp blue sky and indulged himself in a dream of life after amnesty, living in a little house somewhere nice and quiet, maybe with a wife and children, settled and not having to be constantly on the run.

As the sun began to dip towards the treetops he got up and went back into the cabin to begin preparing their rabbit dinner.

Hearing him moving about, Heyes woke up and looked about him in confusion, forgetting, for a moment, where they were and how they’d come to be here.

“How’re you feeling?” asked Curry, as Heyes raked his hands through his hair and yawned.

“O.K.”

“Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

“Thanks, Kid.”

A little while later, as they ate the rabbit and beans, Curry said.  “I bet Lom’ll be wondering what happened to us.”

Heyes nodded.  “He’ll probably think we’re in some kind of trouble.”

“Well, we were.”

“Yes, but not any more.” smiled Heyes. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get to his place before he starts thinking the worst.”

“Worst as in we’ve gone back to outlawin’, or worst as in we’re dead?”

Heyes grinned.  “Probably both.”



Curry woke first the next morning.  He stoked up the stove and then headed out to refill their canteens in the stream.

When he returned, Heyes was awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling today?” Curry smiled at him.

Heyes smiled back.  He looked a little brighter today, Curry noted, the pallor of the previous day having faded, and he seemed more alert and engaged.

“I feel a lot better today.”

“Good.  Maybe tomorrow you’ll feel up to travellin’ and we can get you to a doctor to get your leg looked at.”

“Sure.” said Heyes.  He eyed Curry for a moment, waiting to see if he’d remembered what day it was.  When he said nothing further, Heyes said.  “Merry Christmas, Kid.”

Curry looked at him wide eyed.

“Oh.  I’d forgotten.” he said sheepishly. His worries about escaping the posse and finding them some shelter, and his concern for Heyes being injured had temporarily put everything else out of his mind.

Heyes grinned at him.

“Merry Christmas, Heyes.” Curry smiled before his expression clouded.  “Guess it’ll just be rabbit and beans for Christmas dinner though, rather than turkey.”

“Sounds good to me.” said Heyes.

Curry set about skinning and preparing the second rabbit and later that afternoon they ate their rabbit and bean dinner, followed by berries for dessert, talking over old times, and their years with the Devil’s Hole Gang, and laughing uproariously as they recalled some of their many escapades.

Later, as they shared a cup of whisky each, Heyes said   “I’m sorry I didn’t get chance to get you a gift, Kid, what with having to leave Buford so quickly.”

“I didn’t get chance to get you one either,” said Curry.

“No matter,” said Heyes.  “We’re both still alive, and safe.  That’s better than any Christmas gift.”  

Their eyes met and held, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Life had been tough since they’d decided to try for amnesty, being constantly hunted, and broke and hungry a lot of the time but, as long as they had each other, they would get through it.

Curry smiled, breaking the look.  “Yeah, but it would have been good if we’d made it to Lom’s like we planned.  I know I said I’d like to have a nice, quiet Christmas but…” he grinned.  “Should be careful what you wish for, huh?”

“Yeah, it is a very quiet Christmas,” Heyes nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “…but, it’s been great.”

He looked at Curry, who met his eyes with a curious look, not having expected such a sentiment from Heyes, whose penchant was for more social events, but his eyes conveyed the sincerity of his comment.  They might be stuck in an old cabin in the middle of nowhere but they were safe and warm, with full bellies -  even if it wasn’t with turkey – and, more importantly, they were together, and that was worth more to Heyes than any amount of carousing with the boys - not that he was going to openly admit that to his friend of course.   Simple pleasures.  And, hopefully, in the coming year they would be free men once again.

“Merry Christmas, Kid.” he said softly.

Curry grinned.  “Merry Christmas… and a Happy New Year – I hope!”

“I’ll drink to that!” grinned Heyes, holding out his cup to Curry, who lifted his own and they clinked them together before downing the drink.


~~~

I don't usually do this- but I posted this story a few days ago and it seems to fit the challenge.

The Kid was huddled under a blanket wearing his gloves, jacket, extra shirts and most of the socks he owned, but he still didn't feel warm. He glanced over at his partner and though night had fallen, the light of the moon allowed him to see that Heyes was looking just as uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to complain but at the look his partner shot him, he decided that saying nothing was wiser and closed his mouth quickly. Shivering with his teeth chattering Curry managed with some shuffling and wriggling to wrap the blanket even more tightly round his body as he burrowed into the straw until only his head was uncovered.

Finally feeling more confident that he'd not freeze to death during the night he closed his eyes, listened to the quiet snuffling of their horses and tried to sleep. But some time later he was still wide awake. With a sigh he accepted that if he didn't at least try to make peace again, he'd get no rest for hours. He opened his eyes, peered through the shadows at the lump hunched up on his right side and cleared his throat before saying a little awkwardly, “I'm sorry, Heyes. I didn't know that joker was going to get so fired up.”

He was hoping for some response, because at this point even a sarcastic retort would be better than the grumpy silence of the last few hours. As no reply was forthcoming, Curry resigned himself to waiting till morning to try again. He couldn't really blame his partner for ignoring him. It was hard enough being out in the cold when lack of money gave them no choice, but this year they'd carefully made sure to have enough to enjoy themselves somewhere warm for Christmas. Now with the next town simply too far away for them to reach in time for the day, they would once again be stuck out in the wilds. He was honest enough to admit that if the situation had been reversed, he'd be just as annoyed and unwilling to talk as Heyes.

He was on the edge of sleep, the need for rest finally overcoming his discomfort at the chill between them when Heyes eventually answered. “Weren't entirely your fault, Kid. I know you tried real hard to avoid drawing on him. And in the end that barkeep recognised us both from a train.”

“I'm still sorry Heyes, know you were lookin' forward to spending Christmas off the trail.”

Heyes snorted before replying softly,“ Well, we'll make do as usual Kid and maybe next year we'll be luckier.”

Curry with a relieved huff of breath at the easing of tension between them, rolled on to his side and after a quiet, ”Night, Heyes,” he was soon fast asleep.

Booted feet and a heavy prod from a rifle woke him early next morning. He looked up blearily into the face of a moustached man with greying hair and a grim expression holding the weapon like he knew what to do with it. Curry glanced carefully over his shoulder at his partner and saw that he too had a gun levelled at him. Despite only looking at most fourteen, the boy holding the gun looked both confident and comfortable with his weapon. Curry guessed due to their facial similarity that the man and boy were father and son. Inwardly cursing that he hadn't thought to keep watch as dawn broke, he slowly raised his hands careful to make no move towards his colt. The older man waved him to move onto his back saying as he did so, “Slowly now and leave those hands right where I can see them.” The Kid obeyed the instruction, keeping his movements slow and steady, eager not to provoke him.

“Whatcha doin' in our barn?” This from the boy and directed towards Heyes.

Curry risked moving his head again so he could glance over at his partner. His face was such a picture of innocence that The Kid despite their situation had look away almost immediately to keep from laughing. “We're real sorry about trespassing on your property but we don't know this area at all. So by the time we figured out we was lost, it was real late and we were desperate for somewhere to sleep. We'll do some jobs round here to pay for those oats our horses ate and for the use of your barn.” Heyes sounded so convincingly full of apologetic nervousness that even Curry knowing the truth almost believed him. He was projecting an air of harmlessness with an ease that Curry couldn't help but envy. He didn't think he was doing quite so well, but hoped he was managing something unthreatening at least.

Curry thought the man was likely convinced by Heyes' explanation, but that didn't necessarily mean that they were safe. He could still take them into town to report their trespass. A trip that could quite easily lead them to a twenty year stay at The Wyoming Territorial Prison.

After a few moments of silence the older man nodded, moved his gun away and indicated his son do the same. The younger man complied reluctantly and looked about to complain, but was quelled by a fierce look from his Father, who then turned to them his face softening. “Well you folks don't look like you're plannin' on murdering us in our beds, so your idea sounds like fair payment to me. I'm Josiah Sampson and this is my youngest, Michael.”

Heyes smiled at them brightly, “I'm Joshua and this here is my partner Thaddeus.” Curry wasn't surprised that he hadn't given their full aliases. The suspicious looks Michael was throwing them suggested that Smith and Jones wouldn't go very far in convincing him that they weren't trouble.

After another couple of minutes of studying them Josiah seemed to come to a decision and turned back to his son, saying firmly, “Go tell your Ma we've two more for breakfast.”

“But Pa...”

“Do it son, we've more than enough. I've plenty work for them, so they gonna need some fuel.” Michael scowled in silent annoyance before heading out of the barn his back stiff with resentment.

Curry watched him go, then exchanged another look with Heyes. Together they slowly slid off their makeshift bed until they were stood on the barn floor.

The Kid could feel Josiah watching them as they brushed the straw off their clothes and stamped their feet, rubbing themselves as they tried to warm up. When Curry looked up from their feeble attempts the man's eyes were kind as he said gently. “Ain't exactly the weather for sleepin' in barns, but Ellie's cooking will soon have you boys warmed up.”

Curry feeling a huge sense of relief and no little surprise couldn't help saying. “We sure are grateful that you're taking this so easy.”

“Well it being so cold, it don't seem right to chase you off. Besides ain't like I'm getting nothin' in return.” He gave a slightly mischievous grin and Curry smiled back at him as he heard Heyes laugh softly.

XXX
A few hours later they had finished cleaning out the small stable and were raking in the clean hay when Michael came in, his face pulled down into another frown. “I don't know what Pa is thinkin' , but he wants you to stay for supper. I know my Ma's missin' my brothers somethin' fierce, now they've gone East, but it don't seem right invitin' trespassers in to eat once, never mind twice.”

If breakfast was anything to go by, supper was likely to be a real treat. The Kid glanced hopefully over towards Heyes,who flashed him an amused smile before turning to the boy, "That's a mighty kind offer that we'd be foolish to turn down.”

Michael sighed heavily as if he'd expected that answer and said grudgingly, “Supper is at six thirty.” With that he stomped off towards the exit saying as he did so.“ If this were my farm, I'd have taken you to the Sheriff or at least chased you off, but my folks never did have any sense. Lucky we ain't all dead.”

He stomped out, slamming the stable door behind them and after a brief silence, they both broke into laughter at the boy's disgruntlement. “I'm sure glad it's his Daddy's farm, Heyes.”

“Me too, Kid, me too.”


XXX

Some time after supper was over and the dishes put away, the cosy warmth of the room along with good food, a late night and a long day left the Kid struggling to keep his eyes open. He rocked backwards in his chair and would have fallen if Heyes hadn't caught him just in time. Realising it must have gotten late, he stood as Heyes did the same. Meeting the warm eyes of Mrs Sampson he said truthfully. “Thank you, Ma'am, that was the best meal I can remember eating in a long while. Me and Joshua have decided to leave tomorrow afternoon once we get that fencing properly repaired.”

Josiah and his wife exchanged a glance before Mrs Sampson said, “Look boys, we've been talking too and our house feels kinda empty this year. We thought it'd be nice for us all, if you stayed and spent Christmas Day with us.”

Michael watched them scowling, but at the glance his Mother shot him said nothing and instead looked down as if studying his hands.
The Kid was touched by the invitation, feeling it was especially kind given with how little the Sampson's knew about them. It'd been years since they'd spent Christmas with a family. At Valpo it had just meant no lessons and an extra hour in church. After they'd run away from the home they'd generally been too cold and hungry to really notice its arrival. When they'd been leaders of The Devil's Hole Gang, most of the season had been spent gambling and drinking or sleeping off a hangover. That pattern hadn't altered much whether they were in a town or in the hideout itself. The main difference being that in town Christmas Day had often dawned with them waking up in a high class brothel. He hadn't really felt the need to celebrate it any other way at the time, but now after two years of spending Christmas on the trail and faced with such a generous invitation the urge to accept was almost overwhelming. The sensible side of him knew that politely pleading a prior engagement would be a lot safer for them. There was still a realistic possibility that someone from town would decide to come looking for them feeling that $20,000 would make them a very nice Christmas present.

He opened his mouth to decline but suddenly assailed by a crystal clear memory of his family at their last Christmas, he coughed and the words of refusal dried in his throat. He felt the lightest squeeze on his shoulder just as Heyes said, “We'd love to stay. Real kind of you to offer Ma'am.” Curry glanced at him surprised and grateful. He saw some of his own feelings reflected in his partner's eyes, as well as an affectionate understanding that did nothing to ease the sudden lump in his throat.

At their agreement, Josiah shook Curry's hand enthusiastically as Ellie engulfed him in a tight hug. The Kid watching as the process was repeated with Heyes took a deep breath and prepared himself to reluctantly leave the warm haven. They were almost at the door when Mrs Sampson spoke again. “If Josiah don't object, we got a better place for you boys to sleep than that draughty old barn.” Josiah looked a little hesitant, but Curry seeing him note the absence of their weapons and take in his wife's hopeful expression wasn't too surprised when he nodded his agreement. “Sure Ellie, they can sleep in Billy and Jacob's old room, ain't like its being used and even with extra blankets that barn ain't real fit for sleepin' in at this time of year.”

Some time later as he lay half-asleep in the quiet room, snugly comfortable on clean sheets and under a thick quilt, Curry found his thoughts straying again to their families, long gone a lifetime ago. But as his memories drifted towards painful, Heyes' voice came over to him from the next bed, “Well Kid, it's sure gonna be a better Christmas than we expected. Sleep well.”

The gentle warmth in the tone made Curry smile as he replied softly, “Sure is Heyes. Sure is. Sweet dreams.” Feeling very content, the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was his partner's quiet pleased laugh.

“That is so beautiful!”

“Yes, Mrs. Mueller, it really is.” Clementine Hale took a few steps back to admire the decorated Douglas Fir that filled one corner of her small parlor.

“It reminds me so much of when I was a girl, in Bremen.”

Clementine reached over and took the older woman’s hand. “You must miss Germany very much.”

“I do, especially at Christmas. Every house had a decorated tree like this one.”

“And now, Denver is starting to look more and more like Bremen. I declare, I never saw so many people putting decorated evergreens in their homes. Christmas trees are everywhere.”

“Well, not quite everywhere, Miss Hale. But yes, it does remind me of Bremen.” Her eyes were damp, but she smiled. “And now, young American women like you are keeping my tradition alive.”

“And we will do, for a long time, so don’t you cry!” Clementine said, pointing one finger at her friend. “Besides, you’ve got Heinz to carry on your tradition.”

The young man looked up from where he knelt at the base of the tree. He turned a big screw tightly, then stood up. “I’ve got the tree nice and stable in the base, Miss Hale. You won’t have any problem with it. A Colorado blizzard could blow through this house, and it wouldn’t fall over.”

“Thank you, Heinz. I never could have put that tree up without your help.”

“It’s our pleasure, And please, would you call me Henry? It sounds more American.”

Mrs. Mueller glared at her son. “And what is wrong with the sound of a German name? You are German!”

“That’s the old country, Mama. We’re Americans now.”

“And I, for one, am glad you’re both here, German or American. After all, my father’s new wife is German, too. Her family’s from Milwaukee.”

“She’ll feel right at home here, Miss Hale,” Heinz told her. “It looks just like our house, with the tree and the evergreens on the mantle.” He looked around the room, appraisingly. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Oh, yes! We forgot the mistletoe. Heinz,” Mrs. Mueller said, pointing, “Put it above the doorway here.” She turned to Clem, who had a doubtful look on her face. “But you must have it! They are newlyweds.”

“In that case, I suppose so. I certainly won’t need it.”

“Oh no, dear girl, you must not say that! You never know. Look at your father. He is in the autumn of his life, yet he found love. You are still young.”

“Alright then. Go ahead, Heinz. I mean, Henry.” The two women watched while he stood on a chair and hammered a nail into the door frame, then hung the mistletoe.

“Thank you both so much. The house has never looked so good.”

“Yes, I think it is ready for company. Your father and his bride will love it.”

“I think so. I hope so. It’s just. . . “ the Muellers looked at her expectantly as she struggled to find the right words. “I haven’t seen or heard from him for so long. It was a shock to find out he’d remarried.”

“But your mother is gone many years, isn’t that true?” Clementine nodded. “It is sad to be old and lonely. Now he has love. That is a good thing. And he has a good daughter, who makes a beautiful welcome for him.”

“Mrs. Mueller, you always say the nicest things.”

“If you can understand her accent, that is,” Heinz added.

“I understand it is time to go home. You have baking to do, yes?”

“I do. I want everything ready when they arrive, although I don’t know exactly when they’re coming. It’s already the 23rd. I expected a telegram from him by now.”

“We pass the telegraph office on the way home. If your telegram is there, Heinz can bring it to you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve done so much already.”

“It’s no problem, Miss Hale,” Heinz said. “I’m going to walk Mama home, and then run a few more errands for her. I’ll be out anyway.”

“In that case, yes, that would be wonderful.”

Heinz took his coat and his mother’s from the rack, then held her coat while she put it on. “Then I wish you and your family a very happy Christmas,” Mrs. Mueller said.

“I think it will be. At first, I thought it would be a very quiet Christmas, just me by myself here, and I was fine with that. But now, I’m getting excited.”

“No quiet Christmas for you!” Mrs. Mueller told her. “If I thought you’d be alone at Christmas, I’d send Heinz to bring you to our house. Christmas is for family, and if family is not close, then for good friends. And you are a good friend to us.”

“Thank you again. I’ll see you next week and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I hope so!” Cold air blew in as the Muellers left, and Clementine closed the door tightly and cleaned against it. The house looked and smelled wonderful. Boughs of evergreen strewn across the fireplace mantel and around doorways filled the rooms with their fragrant aroma. With the decorating done, she could concentrate on her baking.

She went into the small kitchen and put on her muslin apron. Before long, she had soft dough ready to be put in ceramic bowls to rise. As soon as she covered the bowls with tea towels and placed them on the warm stove, she put a teapot on to boil. It was just starting to whistle when she heard a loud knock at the door. Oven mitt in hand, she put the teapot on a trivet and went to answer the door.

“Miss Hale, I got your telegram for you!”

“Henry, thank you!” She put the telegram in her apron pocket. “You look cold! Would you like a cup of tea to warm you up?”

“No thank you. Mama’s got dinner waiting at home. I better hurry.”

“I’d hurry, too, if I was eating her food. Be careful going home!”

“I will!” Clementine watched him sprint down the street. He had enough energy for ten people. For herself, she was ready to relax. She prepared her cup of tea, stirred honey into it, and sat down in the parlor opposite the Christmas tree.

The tea tasted delicious. The scent of the evergreen, now mixed with that of the rising bread, lulled her into a light sleep. When she awoke, the tea was cold. She jumped out of the chair and almost ran into the kitchen. The bread looked good. Sighing with relief, she punched down both loaves before setting them out to rise a second time, then put the teapot on again. The stove had cooled down. She took logs from the basket and got the dying fire restarted. It would be a few minutes before the water got hot. She suddenly remembered the telegram in her pocket and took it out. The words made her gasp.

SORRY – NOT COMING – GOING TO MILWAUKEE TO SEE ANNA’S BOYS – HAVE A GOOD CHRISTMAS – LOVE DADDY.

Blindly, she reached for a chair and fell onto it. She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She read the telegram again. The words were still the same. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand, letting the telegram fall, unheeded, to the floor. It looked like she would have a very quiet Christmas after all.

0000000000000

Clementine woke up on Christmas Eve morning with a headache. The bedroom was cold. She pulled the quilts over her head, but that didn’t relieve the dull throbbing. Drinking some of the special brandy punch she’d prepared for her guests had seemed like a good idea last night. It didn’t seem like such a good idea now.

She threw off the quilts and stumbled into her slippers. Henry had put in a good supply of wood, so she was able to get fires started in her kitchen and in her Franklin stove. Soon, both were pumping out welcome heat. She washed and dressed, then made herself a simple breakfast of coffee and biscuits.

There wasn’t much to do that day. All the preparations for her guests were complete, and now, no one was coming. She put the dishes in the sink and went into the parlor. She sat down on the sofa and looked at the decorations and sighed. It seemed such a shame that nobody would see this except her. And the Muellers, of course, but that was all. It just wasn’t fair that all this effort was wasted. It wasn’t fair for her father to visit his new wife’s sons instead of his own daughter.

She shook herself mentally. Getting all emotional, like one of those silly women who cried at the drop of a hat, would never do. Better to think about something else. She reached into the sewing basket that was next to her chair and took out her latest knitting project. It was a sweater with all sorts of complicated stitches and color designs, and it required careful attention to do it correctly.

The only sound in the house was the click-click-click of the knitting needles. Even the normal street sounds were muffled. Curious, she stood up to look out the window. Thick downy snowflakes were falling. The ground was already covered. Denver would have a white Christmas. Suddenly, she realized she was cold. How much time had passed? She put the sweater down in the chair and went to build up the fires again.

She had just shut the stove door closed when she heard a knock at the door. Maybe Daddy was coming after all! She sprinted to the door and yanked it open.

“Oh, my stars! What are you two doing here?”

“What’s Christmas without our favorite girl?” Hannibal Heyes grabbed her by the waist and, holding her with her feet off the ground, kissed her hard.

“Hey! Save some of that for me!” Holding Clementine in his arms, Heyes passed her over to Curry, who swung around with her in a circle.

“Put me down right now! You’re making me dizzy!”

‘Good old Clem! Ordering us around like usual. Aren’t you happy to see us?”

“Well, sure, but I can hardly believe you two are really here! Where did you come from?”

“We’ve been all over,” Heyes said. “Moving around like usual, job to job. You know how it is.”

“I most certainly do not! And I probably don’t want to know. But why are you here?”

“Clem! Heyes already told you. We came to spend Christmas with you. We thought you might be alone, and Christmas is no time to be alone.”

“There’s plenty of time to talk later,” Heyes said. “Right now, we got a cab waiting out front. We got to bring everything in before we get buried in this storm.”

“Everything? What’s everything? Why do you need everything?”

“We’re staying with you, Clem. We knew you had the extra bedroom, so why not? The more the merrier, right?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no words came out. Both men grinned at her confusion.

“Never thought we’d see you at a loss for words, Clem. You just stand there and think about what you want to say while we unload.”

“Alright. What choice do I have?”

“None.” Curry leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “We’re going to make sure you have a good Christmas, whether you like it or not.”

She stood back and watched as they brought in several boxes, along with their luggage.

“Just how long are you planning to stay? Till Easter?”

The men were stamping their feet on the threshold, trying to shake off the snow.

“We might have enough food to last till then, even with Kid’s appetite.”

“Nice. Heyes, why don’t you put our luggage in the bedroom – nobody’s there, right, Clem? Don’t give me that look. Just show me where to unpack all this food.” Clementine pointed to the small kitchen. Curry picked up a large box and put it on her small table. She gasped when he took off the lid.

“Oh my . . . “

“I know,” he said. “We got coffee, sugar, flour, eggs, butter – in case you want to bake for us. Got us a Virginia ham, canned goods, everything we could think of.”

“And what’s that?” She pointed at the box. He only grinned.

“You didn’t think we’d come her without liquid refreshment, did you, Clem? You’re not running a temperance house, are you?”

“Not with that haul, I’m not.”

“Glad to hear it!” Heyes said. “That bedroom looks real comfortable, Clem, almost like you were expecting us.” He paused, considering. “Were you expecting someone?”

“Yes, I was, but they’re not coming.” She shrugged. “You know how it is.”

“I don’t, but that doesn’t matter. Now you got us! And I bet your other guests wouldn’t have brought all this.” He waved his arm to indicate all the goods that Curry was unloading.

“Definitely not all that whiskey.”

“Then you got lucky!” Curry held up one bottle. “This is a special one. Some kind of German spiced wine. It’s like a punch, but you got to drink it warm.”

“Well! Why don’t we heat it up and try it? It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

“That’s my girl!” Heyes told her. “We can have a drink in your parlor and look at that tree you got all decorated while Kid unpacks the presents.”

“Presents!” Her voice rose so high, she almost shrieked. “You brought me presents?”

“Clem! ‘Course we did! It’s Christmas!!”

“Can I open them now?” Curry folded her into a hug.

“You can open your presents anytime you like. They’re yours. It’s not like your father’s here, telling you that you got to wait till Christmas Day. You can do what you like.”

“No. He’s definitely not here. I think I’ll wait till tomorrow morning.” She smiled up at him. “And then, I’ll make us the best Christmas breakfast you ever had.”

“I think we can go along with that, Clem. Can’t we, Kid?”

“I sure can. For now, though, how about we get some of that German punch and sit in the parlor for a while, just catch up? And then we can decide exactly how we’re going to celebrate. Because we are definitely going to celebrate this holiday in style, the three of us together.”

“Yes, we will,” Clementine said. “Because old friends are family. Maybe even better.”

“Better when you got friends like us, Clem. You’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss each man on the cheek. “I like it fine. Now let’s get this celebration started!”