Western Christmas Brides: A Bride and Baby for Christmas / Miss Christina's Christmas Wish / A Kiss from the Cowboy
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Giving his head a clearing shake, he looked up at the bright blue sky and told himself he was attending dinner at Brett’s place for no other reason than Brett was his best friend and had invited him. There was no history to repeat itself because he would never fall in love again. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Abigail was right. He had been devastated when Becky had cast him aside. He was older now, and smarter, and would never go down that road again.
Several hours later, Teddy wondered if he should have gone with Abigail. Brett and Fiona were gracious hosts and the meal had quite easily been the best he’d ever eaten. However, the joy that kept weaving its way around inside him came from Hannah. She was happier than he’d ever seen her. Talkative and carefree as she teased Rhett and Wyatt about eating so much they’d forget their parts in the upcoming recital.
It could just be the jubilation filling the house that was affecting him. Children had a way of doing that, and Rhett and Wyatt, who were five and seven, kept everyone at the table laughing.
Both boys had speaking parts in the program the new teacher had prepared for the entire community. The children were to recite the Thanksgiving proclamation President Abraham Lincoln had delivered back in 1863, making the day a national holiday. The boys insisted the more they ate, the better they’d perform and shortly after their plates were empty, they were itching to leave.
“Rhett and Wyatt sure are excited,” Teddy said to Hannah as he closed the door behind them.
The boys had been the first out the door, followed by Brett and Fiona, who’d given a quick apology, stating they needed to hurry or the boys would have their suits dirty before they got to school. Teddy had no choice but to assure them that was fine, that he’d escort Hannah to the school.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said sheepishly. “I just can’t move as fast as I used to.”
“No reason to be sorry,” he said. “We aren’t in a hurry.”
“The boys are,” she said. “They’ve been practicing their lines all week.”
He chuckled. “I think I heard the entire proclamation while we were eating.”
She giggled. “I’ve heard it for the past week. I think I know it by heart.”
“The new teacher must be doing a good job,” he said. “I don’t ever remember being that excited about anything happening at school.”
The smile on Hannah’s face as she glanced his way made his heart kick like an old mule. “I imagine you were an excellent student.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” he answered.
She giggled again, but then said, “Fiona certainly thinks Miss Burnett is a wonderful teacher, and I read the article in the newspaper that Abigail wrote about her. Miss Burnett seems to be very qualified.”
“Josiah had purchased ads in newspapers far and wide hoping to find someone suitable. It appears he has, but I don’t believe she’ll last any longer than the past few have.” Teddy bit the end of his tongue, not sure why he’d said that.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard that Don Carlson is at the school every day, dropping off and picking up his children.” It was the truth, he’d seen it himself, but pointed it out mainly because Don Carlson was on the list of Hannah’s potential husbands currently in his pocket. The list he still hadn’t returned. It wouldn’t hurt for her to know a few of the men on that list may not be a good choice for her. “Last year, Tess Creswell only lasted a few months as the teacher before Art married her. They just had a baby a few months ago.”
She nodded. “I’ve met Mrs. Creswell.”
“Don doesn’t have a wife and it appears he believes Miss Burnett is what he’s been looking for.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” she said.
“Jules Carmichael has also been seen at the school,” he said, mentioning another name on her list. “Jules lives in a small cabin on Russ and Henrietta Gibson’s dairy farm, which might not be as appealing to Miss Burnett, coming from the city as she did. The same goes for Jess Radar. He’s shown interest in the new teacher, too, but he lives in Steve Putnam’s bunkhouse. A woman such as Miss Burnett might be more comfortable in their own home, don’t you think?”
Hannah’s smile wobbled slightly as she nodded. “I suspect you’re right.”
Guilt assaulted his stomach. What was he doing? He’d told Abigail more than once that making others look bad did not make her look better. Nor would it make him look better. Which shouldn’t matter because he didn’t want to look better to Hannah. He didn’t want to be one of her choices.
“Have all the eligible men in town shown an interest in Miss Burnett?” Hannah asked.
He shrugged.
“Or just the ones on my list?”
Teddy stumbled slightly.
* * *
Hannah had searched for her list. For a while, she’d feared the list had been amongst the drawings she’d given Teddy last week, but since he’d never mentioned finding it, she’d assumed it must have accidently gotten burned. Until a moment ago, when out of nowhere a sinking feeling told her he had it, and knew exactly what it was. The remorse in his eyes said she was right.
They’d stopped walking, and not sure what else to do, she merely held her hand out. He dug into his hip pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She didn’t unfold it. Just slipped it into the pocket of the button-up jacket Fiona had insisted she wear.
“I planned on giving it back to you,” he said. “Would have before now, but never had the opportunity.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. Selecting a spot over one of his shoulders, she kept her head up, her gaze averted.
“I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I should have given it back last week, but—”
“But what?” She still didn’t look at him. “You wanted to make sure you had something bad to say about each one of them first?”
“No, I—”
“You what?” She was more upset than she was angry, which was foolish. Making that list had been foolish.
“I just wondered why I wasn’t on your list.”
The baby moved so suddenly, it startled her as much as his statement had. She placed a hand on her stomach, and he gently touched her arm.
“Is something wrong? Is it the baby?”
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “The baby is fine, and so am I. We should get to the school now.” She still hadn’t looked at him, didn’t have the courage to do that, but noticing his sister amongst the crowd walking toward the school gave her the wherewith to put one foot in front of the other. Abigail’s flowered hat was impossible to miss. Even the sight of the back of it caused a sinking sensation inside Hannah.
“We can go back to the house if the walk is too much for you,” he said.
“The walk is not too much for me.” She drew another deep breath. But all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t give her the fortitude to tell him his sister was the reason he wasn’t on her list. The past few nights had been full of sleepless hours, and for most of those hours she’d contemplated what she wanted. Brett and Fiona were wonderful and would let her live with them forever, but she didn’t want that. She wanted the baby to have a family. A mother and a father, and eventually siblings. Her thoughts always led her to think about Teddy, and ultimately Abigail. And how much his sister disliked her. The people who would say that didn’t matter had never experienced living with hatred. She had. And she knew the consequences.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She tried to hide a heavy sigh while saying, “I’m sure.”
Chapter Five
The children’s program didn’t last long, but what followed seemed to take forever. Teddy had secured her a chair, of which Hannah was thankful. The school was large enough for the children on a daily basis, but with the entire community in attendance, there wasn’t nearly enough room. People stood outside, watching the program through the windows and doorway. She was proud of Rhett and Wyatt, how they performed their speaking parts without a single mishap. The other children, too. She couldn’t help but think of the future and how her child would someday be old enough to participate in such performances.
That thought also left her unsettled. What Teddy said had been the truth. About Don Carlson, Jules Carmichael and Jess Radar. She’d already known what he’d said about each of them, and had determined none of them was a suitable choice for her. He had only confirmed her list was much shorter than she’d wanted to believe. And then hearing Rhett whispering to his mother had her thinking about other things.
After the children had taken their final bow, Reverend Flaherty, using words from Lincoln’s Proclamation, had led a prayer of inestimable peace, harmony and prosperity for all of Oak Grove. Then Mayor Melbourne had walked to the front of the room. He’d been talking for ages already, and under his breath, she’d heard Rhett tell Fiona that he sure was glad she hadn’t married the mayor.
That tiny whispered voice echoed inside Hannah’s head for the rest of the mayor’s speech. Marrying someone just so her baby would have a last name wouldn’t be what was best for her child. Or her. Finding the right man, one she could love and who would love her and her baby, was what she truly wanted. Love like Brett and Fiona had. Like her grandparents had. That’s why she’d loved being with them so much, because they’d loved her in return. Outside of their house, all she’d known was hate. Her father had been so full of it, it had spread far and wide. There had been no escaping it.
“Come,” Teddy said, taking ahold of her arm. “We’ll slip out the side door and avoid most of the crowd so you won’t have to be on your feet so long.”
“I’m fine,” she said in protest, but gladly rose now that the mayor had finally concluded his speech.
Hannah then shivered from head to toe when a squeaky voice sent an icy tremor up her spine.
“Teddy!” Abigail repeated.
He appeared to ignore his sister while walking toward the door, but once outside, he paused long enough for Abigail to catch up with them. Hannah forced a smile to form and prepared herself as she turned to face the other woman.
The glare was there. As icy as the tremor had been. Having lived with such glares her entire life, Hannah’s heart sank. She just couldn’t endure that again. Wouldn’t.
“I want an etching of the children’s performance for the paper next week,” Abigail said, never once glancing toward her brother.
“I’m sorry, Miss White,” Hannah said. “I didn’t bring any paper with me.”
“Abigail—”
“You can’t draw one from memory?” Abigail interrupted Teddy. “To hear my brother talk, you can draw anything. Everything.”
“You’ve commented on what an expert artist Mrs. Olsen is, too, Abigail,” Teddy said. “As has the mayor and practically every person who has seen one of her drawings in the Gazette.”
“That I have,” Mayor Josiah Melbourne said. “Every week when I read the newspaper.” Patting Abigail’s arm, the man continued, “You certainly can’t expect Mrs. Olsen to draw all those children from memory.”
Hannah figured she could draw a few, but not all of them, and sincerely hoped Abigail would agree with the mayor. Josiah and Brett had butted heads when it came to Fiona—mainly due to the fact the mayor had brought her to town to marry him—and Hannah certainly didn’t want to be the cause of Brett standing against the man again. Or Teddy. That would be even worse. Especially in Abigail’s eyes, which were narrowing and making her face all the more hawkish.
“I expected you to realize an event this large would need a picture to go along with my article,” Abigail said, holding up her pad of paper. Of course her pencil was stuck behind one ear as always.
“I didn’t,” Teddy interjected, “and I own the paper.” Taking ahold of Hannah’s arm once more, he nodded. “Now, if you two will excuse us, we have pumpkin pie waiting for us.”
“So do we, Abigail,” the mayor said.
Abigail didn’t speak as she spun about. Didn’t need to. Her eyes had said all Hannah needed to hear.
“I don’t believe the mayor has missed too many desserts in his life,” Teddy said with a smile as they started walking.
The mayor was portly, and short, and Hannah had a hard time believing Fiona had ever considered marrying the man every time she saw him. That wasn’t what she thought of now. Although Teddy was obviously trying to make her think of other things, she couldn’t. Nor could she stop the heavy sigh that escaped her as they crossed the street.
“Don’t let Abigail bother you.” Teddy’s hold on her arm tightened while they stepped onto the wooden walkway that ran the entire length of the street, including past the Gazette office.
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make her dislike me so much.”
“You haven’t done anything,” Teddy said. “Abigail has never learned how to make friends. I’ve tried to make her understand things, but...” He shrugged. “I thought she’d grown out of it.”
“No,” Hannah insisted. “I know hatred when I see it.” If she had the wherewithal, she would kick up her heels and run back to Brett’s house, but in her condition, that wasn’t an option. At most, her gait would be a fast waddle.
“It’s not you,” Teddy said. “It’s me. She’s upset because you’re, well, similar to a woman I was engaged to marry once.”
Hannah footsteps faltered briefly. “I am? Engaged to? What happened?”
He shrugged. “She married someone else.”
There was no shine in his eyes, no smile on his face, and Hannah got the impression he regretted saying as much as he had. After several quiet moments, she said, “Eric’s family hated me. Still do. They hate my entire family. Always have. And my family hated him. His entire family. The feud has been going on for years. Long ago, two brothers were in the fur trade together, but when one stole the other one’s wife, the two became enemies. They moved to opposite sides of the lake, and one changed the spelling of their name.”
“Their name?”
“Olsen. One of them changed it from an O-l-s-e-n to O-l-s-o-n, according to my father. According to Eric’s father it was the opposite way. From o to e, not e to o.” She wasn’t sure why she’d told him all that. Maybe because in a somewhat different way, she knew how he felt. Not being loved by someone you wanted to love you. “The feud was reignited when I was a baby. By then both families owned logging companies. Eric’s grandfather and my grandfather both tried to claim an island in the middle of the lake, wanting to harvest the lumber off it.”
“Who won?” Teddy asked as they turned the corner and started walking toward Brett’s blacksmith shop and seed company.
“Neither. A fire burned all the trees to the ground. Both sides claimed the other one started the fire.”
“What does your grandfather say?”
“He died in the fire. So did Eric’s grandfather. They were the only two on the island.”
After a few steps, he asked, “I thought your grandfather taught you how to draw and etch wood.”
“He did. But Pappy is my mother’s father. John and Glenda Gunderson.” Saying her grandparents’ names added to her melancholy. She missed them terribly. “I stayed winters with them from the time I was a baby. I’m the youngest. My sisters and mother went to the logging camp to cook for the men. When I got old enough to go to the camp, too, Gram asked if I could stay with her and Pappy instead because they were getting older and could use my help. I have plenty of sisters—seven, actually—so my mother agreed I could stay behind, and my father... Well, he was glad to not have me around. I angered him. Because I was supposed to be a boy.” The baby inside her shifted and she placed her hand upon her stomach as a familiar and special feeling eased some of her sorrow.
“Surely that didn’t really matter to him.”
“Yes, it did. The other Olsons had sons to carry on the family name.” Tired of the hurt that encompassed her when thinking about her father, she changed the subject. “Pappy didn’t mind that I was a girl and he was proud of my etchings. He’s a carpenter. Makes furniture as fine as Jackson Miller here in town. But Pappy’s pieces are all uniquely carved. Pinecones and oak leaves, birds, fish and many other personal designs. They are truly wonderful.” The memory of one particular piece made her sigh. “When I was a baby, he made a cradle for me to sleep in while I was at their house, and always said that my children would sleep in it, too. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m sure it is.” They walked in silence for a few more steps before he said, “Did things get better between your families once you and Eric—”
“No,” she answered before he could finish. She didn’t want to lie to him, but wasn’t ready to reveal she and Eric had never been married. “One of his brothers saw Eric talking to me at the lumberyard one day. Both of our families sold logs to Brett’s family’s sawmill. His father made sure my father heard about it, and we were forbidden to see each other.”
“But you didn’t stop.”
“No,” she replied, “we didn’t.” Her throat was suddenly on fire, and swallowing only made it worse, but she continued, “Eric died because he loved me. He may have drowned while floating logs across the lake, but he wouldn’t have been given that job if his father hadn’t been mad at him because of me.”
* * *
Teddy wanted to tell her that couldn’t be true, that she couldn’t blame herself for Eric’s death like that, but tears weren’t the only thing in her eyes. There was so much grief, so much sorrow, it stole his breath. They’d crossed the field and now stood near Brett’s house. Still holding one of her elbows, he grasped her other arm, to pull her close to offer comfort, but she shook her head.
“His father told me so. Told me I was the reason his son died. Eric was a faller. He loved cutting down trees.” She blinked back several tears while pinching her lips together. “But he hated the water. Was afraid of it. Everyone knew that. Especially his father, but he’d made Eric float the logs across the river as a punishment for loving me.”
The desire to pull her close grew at every tear that fell from her eyes. “Hannah—”
“I don’t want my baby to ever know that kind of hatred. That’s why I left Wisconsin.” She twisted against his hold until he released both arms. “And that’s why you aren’t on my list.” Covering her mouth with one hand, she hurried toward the steps.
Teddy watched her enter the house as new and unusual emotions flooded him. It was a moment before everything connected in his head. He wasn’t on her list because of the way Abigail treated her. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel the tiniest desire to defend his sister. Instead, he wanted to protect Hannah. Protect her from all the people who had ever hurt her, and from any of those who might ever do so in the future.
He now fully understood why Brett’s mother had sent her to Oak Grove when she had. Under the ruse of becoming Brett’s wife. And he understood why Brett had been so protective over her since the day she’d arrived. Hannah had been hurt badly. Compared to flesh wounds, inner ones took longer to heal. Some never healed. His grandfather had explained that to him in a way he’d never forget.
Around the age of ten or so, after a fight with Abigail, who was five years younger than him, where he’d said some mean things to her, his grandfather had taken him into the print shop and pulled a sheet of paper off the same press Teddy still used to print the Gazette.
A person’s heart is like this paper, Grandpa had said. It’s as fragile as it is strong. When someone’s heart gets hurt, for whatever reason, it crimples a bit, and though we can smooth the crinkles out, the paper will never be the same. If it’s run through the press, ink will gather in the fine creases, remnants of the crinkles, and the print will be smudged. A man should take care to never say or do something that will crimple someone’s heart.
He’d never forgotten that lesson. It had gotten him through the ordeal with Becky. Although his heart had been crimpled, he hadn’t wanted hers to be, so he had generously wished her well in her marriage to Rex Arnold.
His mind had momentarily gone to Becky, but his gaze was still on the house. Hannah’s heart had been crimpled for as long as she could remember.
The sound of his name had him turning about.
“Did you like the performance, Teddy?” Rhett asked as the two boys slid to a stop beside him.
“Yes, I did,” he answered, ruffling the boy’s mop of brown hair, which earlier had been combed smooth, but was no longer. “It was the finest recital I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s what Brett said, too,” Wyatt answered, beaming. “And now we get to eat some of Hannah’s pie!”
Teddy had been looking forward to that pie as much as the boys—they’d talked about the dessert even while eating the turkey and fixings. He no longer felt like eating pie. Might never feel like eating again.
“Aren’t you joining us for dessert?” Fiona asked as she and Brett arrived, holding hands.
“No,” Teddy replied. “I have to go to the hotel, but thank you, Fiona. That was the best Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had.”
Brett laid a hand on his shoulder as he said to Fiona, “I’ll be in shortly.”
Fiona eyed them both curiously, but hurried inside.
“What happened?” Brett asked. “Where’s Hannah?”
“Inside,” Teddy answered. “She told me about her and Eric’s family. About the feud. How they hated each other.”
Brett huffed out a sigh. “Her father and Eric’s are cruel men. From what my mother said in her letters, it’s gotten worse over the years, and it would be best if Hannah never saw either of them ever again.”
“How can grown men...” Teddy shook his head, knowing Brett would have the same sentiments, and no answers. Some people were just mean. Too mean. Couldn’t see past their own noses when it came to recognizing how their behaviors hurt others.
“You care about Hannah, don’t you?” Brett asked.
Glancing toward the house, Teddy admitted, “More than I should.”
Chapter Six
The slamming of cupboard doors said Abigail was as angry this morning as she’d been when she went to bed last night. Teddy continued setting type. She had plenty to be mad about—in her mind. He’d forced her to leave the hotel and confronted her on how she’d spoken to Hannah. Her response had been to inform him they would be doing their own etchings again.
He’d disagreed, and would stand his ground on that, as well as on a few other things.
“Did you not make any coffee this morning?”
“If you want some, make some,” he answered.
“You didn’t even build a fire.”
“If you want one, build one.”
“I don’t have time. I have articles to write today, and—”
“And several to rewrite,” he interrupted, pointing to the two articles he’d already edited this morning.
She flew across the room and grabbed the sheets of paper off the desk. “There is nothing wrong with these.”
He walked up behind her and pointed to one particular section he’d circled.
Oak Grove Community members will be excited to learn that every store in town will be hosting special sales for the upcoming Christmas Season. Except for Blackwell’s Blacksmithing and Feed and Seed. Evidently, Mr. Blackwell doesn’t believe in the Christmas Spirit.
“What’s wrong with that? I’m being honest,” she said, jutting out her chin. “That’s the first thing a reporter must be. Honest. Brett hasn’t purchased an advertisement about any Christmas specials, so he must not be having any.”
“That’s not being honest, that’s being rude.” He took the papers from her. “Articles like this are the reason we’ve moved so many times. I was serious when I said no more, Abigail. And I still am.”
“That’s not why we left Missouri,” she snapped. “And that’s what won’t happen again.” She spun about and marched over to her desk in the corner. “I won’t let it.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a newspaper he didn’t recognize. “Hannah Olsen will give birth to a bastard. She. Was. Never. Married.”