Christmas Cowboy Kisses Read online

  The best part had been the fine hide she’d hung and cleaned, thinking of the slippers and, perhaps, a vest she might make from its soft leather. She’d cooked stew from a hindquarter, sliced slabs from the roasts and spread them out in a flat pan to freeze and even ground up scraps to make venison sausage they had for breakfast when the pork supply ran low. Perhaps a chunk of stew meat would be good for dinner. There were potatoes and carrots left in the cellar, along with several squashes and the pumpkin she planned to cut up and cook for pies for Christmas dinner.

  And somehow the thought of Christmas held new visions of cheer as she contemplated cooking for more than just herself and Grandpa. There were several leftover bits of yarn in her knitting basket, surely enough to make a pair of mittens and a cap to match for Joseph. It would be a hodgepodge of colors, but she doubted the boy would mind, so long as the end results kept him warm.

  “I think I’ll go out to the porch and cut off a piece of venison for stew,” she said, turning to watch as Gideon wiped the table clean.

  “Can I do that for you? It’ll save you getting cold again, and if you’ll tell me how large a piece you need, I’m sure I can handle the job.” His words halted her as she reached for her coat and shawl and she turned to face him, a smile wreathing her face.

  “I can see that you’ll come in right handy, sir. I need a piece about the size of that kettle there,” she told him, pointing at her medium saucepan.

  “Sounds good to me,” Gideon answered, then reached for his coat and pulled on his hat. Joy found her large butcher knife and handed it to him, then watched as he went out to the porch. It was overcast, with snow still falling, but the light from the kitchen was sufficient to see from the window where he reached for the hanging venison and sliced deftly at it, cutting loose a large piece that would fit readily into her stew pot.

  She went to the door to take the meat from him, then sent him back out to the cellar to fetch vegetables for tonight’s dinner. He turned away and held the porch post as he went down the steps and headed for the cellar door next to the porch, careful not to slip and fall on the snow that had already coated the slick wood.

  In less than five minutes he reappeared, holding the kettle she’d given him to fill. It almost overflowed with the vegetables she’d asked for, and she opened the door to allow him entrance as he stomped his feet to leave the snow behind on the porch. Again he shook his coat outdoors before he hung it on the hook, and she decided he’d been trained well by some female.

  “How far west did you plan to travel, Gideon?” she asked, wondering if his memories were happy ones or if he’d decided to start a new life with his son because of overwhelming sadness in his past. “I know the weather came on quicker than you’d thought it would, with an early winter setting in and putting a stop to your trek.”

  “I’d hoped to get closer to the Rockies before winter,” he said. “There’s a lot of land west of here waiting for a man to homestead it.”

  “Perhaps you could find a place left behind by folks who have headed back East. There are places like that for sale hereabouts at good prices. Some of them only want the taxes paid.”

  “I fear I’m going to have to stay in the area until the snow clears and it’s safe to travel with Joseph. I’d hoped to get farther west in my travels, but if you wouldn’t mind a couple strangers to tend to, we’d surely appreciate staying in the room you mentioned upstairs for the time being. We can pay our own way, for I’ve got a bit of money saved up, plus what I made from the sale of our house.”

  His words were welcome ones, though she hadn’t planned on having houseguests. A pair of strong arms to handle the snow shoveling and a willing man to do the chores sounded like manna from heaven this morning.

  “I don’t expect you to take me at my word,” Gideon said. “I had my pastor back home write me a letter of introduction and the banker there vouched for me in his note. I didn’t know if I might need some sort of credentials when I found a place to stop. I’ll be glad to show them both to you, Joy, and to whomever you think might be able to verify my word.”

  And those papers he spoke of might be faked, she thought cynically, but a long look into the blue eyes that met her own gave her a feeling that they weren’t. He looked like a man of his word. A fellow in search of somewhere to stay until he could find a more permanent place to set down his roots and raise his son.

  * * *

  Bedtime came at dusk, for Joy had learned to be stingy with the kerosene that fueled the lamps. She curled in the middle of her bed, her thoughts of the man and boy sleeping in the loft enough to warm her. If Gideon took over the chores, she’d have time to spend with his son. Joseph looked to be needing the touch of a woman in his life, and Joy felt a tenderness toward the boy she couldn’t explain.

  She awoke at dawn, sliding from the warmth of her quilts to don her dress and wrap a shawl around her shoulders before she made her way to the kitchen. There she found Gideon, busy adding small logs to the fire he’d banked in the stove last evening.

  “Good morning,” he said in his low, almost husky voice. “Thought I’d beat you to the punch and have your stove ready to cook on when you got up.”

  “I surely appreciate it, Gideon. I’m used to doing everything myself, and though I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining, I’ll have to admit it will be a pleasure to have some help.”

  “I’ll head out to the barn while you fix some breakfast. I heard your grandfather moving around upstairs, so he should be down right shortly. Joseph slept like a log last night and I may have to shake the sheets to get him up when I come in.” As he spoke, he donned his heavy coat, pulled down the knitted hat he wore to cover his ears and the shawl Joy wore outdoors, tucking it around his throat and across his chest beneath his coat.

  From the pantry, Joy called out softly, “I’ll have this ready in half an hour or so, and if you’re not in by then, I’ll hold it in the warming oven.”

  As Joy prepared breakfast, she looked through the window and caught a glimpse of Gideon shoveling his way to the barn. He moved more quickly this time, tossing fresh snow to either side as he went. The path from last night was still visible, but at least another six inches of snow had fallen.

  From upstairs she heard Grandpa’s voice mingling with the youthful tones of Joseph. After a few minutes they made their way down the stairs, the boy holding Grandpa’s arm as if he would keep him erect with his childish strength. Grandpa made a big fuss of him when they arrived in the kitchen, sitting down at the table, Joseph taking the chair next to his.

  “This young’un will sure enough come in handy, Joy. He gave me a hand with putting my slippers on and helped me down the stairs.”

  Joy smiled, pleased at Grandpa’s welcoming words. Joseph beamed his pleasure as he listened to every syllable passing the old man’s lips. “I like to help when I can,” he said. “My pa says the good Lord expects us to do our best and always lend a helping hand.”

  “Your father is a smart man, I’d say,” Joy told him, turning from the stove to smile at him. “He’ll be in shortly for breakfast, probably by the time the biscuits are done.”

  “Are we gonna stay here with you?” Joseph asked the old man next to him.

  “As long as this weather lasts, I’d say. Your pa will be a big help to Joy. Gettin’ back and forth in the snow is too much for a woman. Joy’s been doing it all along, but if your pa wants to help and ease her load, I’d surely appreciate it.”

  The backdoor rattled open and Gideon stepped inside, carrying Joy’s blue-speckled bowl in one hand. He hung his coat and Joy’s shawl on the hook by the door, and then sat to slide from his boots. “Things are looking good out there, Joy,” he said. “I found your pan on top of the chicken coop and gathered the eggs. Fed the chickens first, though, to lure them off their nests. The cow gave me almost a full bucket of milk and I put it in the milk h
ouse. Every bit of stock is fed and the barn is warm enough with the heat they put out to keep them all safe and sound.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Gideon,” Joy said sincerely. “Now, get washed up and sit down at the table. I’ll fry up the eggs and we’ll eat.”

  * * *

  By breakfast time a few days later, the snow was piled up higher than the windows. Finished with his meal, Gideon leaned back in his chair and shot a look at Joy. He was amazed at how quickly they’d settled into a routine, almost like a real family. And now his suggestion would make it feel even more so.

  “If you’ve a mind to, we could head out across the meadow after a bit and see to cutting you that tree you’ve got your eye on, ma’am. The wind’s died down some and I think we could make it without any trouble.”

  Joy’s heart skipped a beat as she thought of the thrill of decorating the pine she’d marked as her own. “That would be such fun, Gideon. I’d about given up hope of a Christmas tree this year. If you could make that particular dream come true, I’d be most grateful.”

  “Can I go, too, Pa?” Joseph wanted to know. His face glowed as he considered the joy of having a real Christmas, tree and all.

  “I fear not, Joseph. It’ll be all we can do to make our own way out there, and besides, Grandpa here needs you inside to keep an eye on things while Joy and I are gone.”

  “That’s right, sonny.” Grandpa’s words were firm as he backed up Gideon’s stance. “I need somebody to look after me a bit and tote things hither and yon. Maybe you’d like to watch me whittle something to hang on the Christmas tree once your pa drags it into the house.”

  “I’d like that, sir,” Joseph said, rising to stand by Grandpa’s chair. “Can I go get your whittling stuff for you?”

  He’d apparently watched when Grandpa had wrapped up his knife and the wood he was working with and laid it behind the stove yesterday. Now he waited impatiently for the chance to retrieve it and put Grandpa to work at his task.

  Gideon spoke up. “Let’s you and me get going, Joy. I think your grandfather is in good hands, don’t you?”

  Joy chuckled as she prepared for the trek across the meadow, bundling up warmly and waiting at the door for Gideon to lead the way.

  They made it to the barn quickly, and then Gideon found the bucksaw hanging on the wall. “You ready, ma’am?” he asked with a grin.

  “Whenever you are,” Joy said, her heart lifting as she considered the man standing before her. She tilted her face upward and smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re here, Gideon.”

  In a swift movement, he held her shoulders in his hands and bent to her, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. “So am I,” he said, his voice husky, as if some emotion held him in its grip.

  Joy smiled at him again, feeling the residue of warmth he’d left behind on her skin. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks and ducked her head, fussing with her coat buttons as if they needed attention. “Let’s go then,” she said finally, savoring the memory of her first kiss.

  Chapter Four

  The expedition was a rousing success, for within an hour Gideon had formed a crude tree stand and nailed the small evergreen onto it before carrying it into the house. Joseph clapped his hands with glee as his father carried the tree to the parlor and gave it pride of place before the front window.

  Joy and Gideon toted the boxes of decorations from the corner of the parlor where Joy had left them after her foray into the attic in hopes of her dream tree becoming reality. Dishes were forgotten as they gathered in the parlor to place the homemade wooden stars, the gingerbread men and even an angel on the fragrant tree. Joy brought out tinsel left from years gone by and hung it strand by strand on the branches. Gideon found the candleholders and clipped them on the ends of the branches while Joy located the box of candles, most of them with hours of burning left in their slender white lengths.

  She found some colored paper left over from another year and showed Joseph how to make chains, cutting the paper and then sealing the loops with paste made of flour and a dab of water. They were soon joined by Gideon, and by the time they’d used up all the heavy paper Joy had saved, the chain was almost twelve feet long and Joseph pronounced it “beautiful.” They wound it around the tree several times and the little boy beamed at the sight.

  “After it gets closer to dark, we’ll light the candles,” Joy decided. “It’s only the twenty-third of December, but we’ll enjoy it awhile. Tomorrow, we’ll make cookies and bake a pumpkin pie.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for letting us join in your Christmas celebrations,” Gideon said in a low tone as they stood before the tree, Joy reaching to make sure the candleholders were firmly in place.

  “We wouldn’t have had it without you here,” she said softly. “I’m so thankful you came to our door, Gideon. Even though I didn’t like the circumstances behind it, what with you losing your horse and wagon.”

  He slid one arm around her waist and bent to whisper in her ear, “I’m thinking it was meant to be, Joy. That we were meant to find each other this way.”

  She blushed and cut a quick look at him. “Maybe so. I only know that you and Joseph are welcome here, and Grandpa and I are thankful for you.

  “I have some knitting to catch up on, Gideon. I think I’ll ask you to light the fireplace and warm up the parlor a bit. Then I’m going to sit on the sofa and work on my project. I have to have it done by Christmas.”

  He grinned at her. “I watched you a bit last evening before we went to bed, just knittin’ away on what looked suspiciously like a hat for my young’un.”

  “I got out all my odds and ends of yarn, so it’ll be a hat of many colors. I won’t be able to knit his mittens to go with it until after Christmas, but I might be able to work on a scarf. The hat’s almost done and straight knitting on a scarf takes no time at all.”

  “You’re a kind woman, Joy. My boy’s already taken a shine to you. You’re the first female he’s latched onto since he was born.” He cleared his throat and glanced to where his son sat next to Grandpa, watching as the old man whittled away, paper spread on the floor to catch the whittling scraps.

  The low murmur of voices reached them as Joseph and the old man next to him considered the small manger Grandpa had formed from the wood. “How’d you do that, sir?” the boy asked softly.

  “Just as easy as pie once you get the hang of it, sonny. I thought I’d do a couple of figures to hang on either side of it, maybe Mary kneeling by the manger and Joseph standing by.” Grandpa grinned at the boy. “Did you know you had such a famous name, sonny? Joseph has been revered since the days when he taught the boy, Jesus, about being a carpenter.”

  “I never knew my name was special. I just thought it was what Pa wanted to call me.”

  “Well, your name is almost as special as you are, my boy. You’re a fine young man, and you’ll be a terrific man when you’ve grown, if you take after your pa.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the child said, as if he was flustered by the attention bestowed upon him.

  “Can we light the candles, Pa?” he asked Gideon as his father and Joy crossed the room to where he sat.

  “That’s up to Joy, I’d think,” Gideon said, bending to her wishes.

  “I don’t know why not. The fireplace is making it warm enough to sit in here till bedtime. Let’s enjoy the tree for an hour or so.”

  “I’ll light a candle in the stove and bring it back in here,” Gideon offered. He made short work of his task and in minutes he was back, his hands efficient as he lit the two dozen candles they’d anchored on the tree.

  “Oh, Pa. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Joseph said, his eyes widening, his mouth stretching into a grin and his excitement knowing no bounds.

  “Why don’t we sing some carols,” Joy asked them. “I’ll play some c
hords on the organ and we can all join in. I have a book somewhere in the organ bench with Christmas carols in it.”

  “I wondered if you could play that thing,” Gideon said with a chuckle. “I noticed it over in the corner there and I didn’t know if it was in working order.”

  Joy nodded. “Oh, it works, all right. I’m not very good at it, but my mother taught me some music and how to read notes before she died. I don’t play often, but I think this celebration calls for it, don’t you?”

  “I’d love to hear you play, and I think I know the carols by heart. We used to sing them when I was a youngster. My mother and father took us to church regularly and Christmas Eve was always a big night, with caroling and reading the scripture from the book of Luke about the birth of the Savior. Then we’d go home and have hot cider and cookies and usually we’d have a houseful of folks follow us home and join in more singing.”

  “What a wonderful memory to have,” Joy said. “We used to go to church on Christmas Eve, but after my folks died it was too much for Grandpa to harness up and then hope we could get through the snow. I sure hadn’t planned on it this year. I’ve never seen so much snow in my life.”

  “Well, we’ll have our own celebration right here,” Gideon said stoutly. “I can squeeze some of those apples in the cellar and make some cider for us to drink and you can make cookies tomorrow, enough for us to have a real party.”

  “Can I help, too?” Joseph asked, excitement riding high as he hurled himself into his father’s arms.

  “Sure you can, son. We’ll figure out how to press those apples in the morning, as soon as I finish with the chores.”

  “And in the meantime, if Joy starts cookies maybe I can help her,” Joseph said, casting a yearning glance at the woman he’d obviously come to think of very fondly.

  “You sure can,” Joy said quickly. “I’ll mix the dough and roll it out, and you can use my cookie cutters to cut out stars and angels and bells and all sorts of good things.”