Page 75 of Beyond Montana's Sky
He grinned. “We would have had to wait for Aunt Maggie and Charlotte to come along and complete our family. The new baby, too.”
“Well, darling, just like we could have done better when we first moved to Sweetwater Springs, we have to look at Boston in the same way. Let’s be patient and try to make the most of our opportunities and to create new friendships.” She gave him a sad smile. “But, as much as we might wish to, we can’t in good conscience leave for the summer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Christmas Eve came and went with a rush of gaiety overlying sorrow. Everyone tried to put on a brave face, and mostly they succeeded. A few times, one of the adults slipped out of the drawing room for some private moments, but soon returned with reddened eyes and a calmer composure in place.
Ben was a godsend, frequently stepping in if sadness threatened. He showed an interest in dolls and other girl toys he previously would have disdained and even allowed Hetty to coax him into playing with their new dollhouse.
Bearing the weight of the merrymaking for her nieces’ sake left Edith emotionally drained. After the evening’s festivities, she was grateful everyone retired to their rooms, and thankfully sought the solitude of her bedroom.
In a melancholy mood, Edith changed into her nightgown and robe. As she’d done all the previous week, she moved to the window overlooking the street, where a red candle sat in a brass holder. Taking a match, she lifted the glass chimney and lit the wick.
In a symbolic gesture, Edith started the ritual to welcome the Christ Child. But even more, she imagined the tiny flame sending peace and goodwill to those she loved in Montana, including one rogue of a rancher.
A knock sounded. With a sigh, she replaced the chimney and turned away from the window, going to open the door.
Ben stood there, wearing a robe over his nightshirt and stockings.
She motioned him into the room.
He glanced at the window. “You’re burning a Christmas candle like we did at home.”
She noted his use ofhome. When they’d moved to Sweetwater Springs, several years passed before they’d stopped referring to Boston as home.This time, how long until Boston becomes home?
Perhaps all we need is our own place.But with her in-laws obviously still emotionally fragile, she didn’t yet want to make that move.
“The Christmas party at the hotel is probably still going on,” Ben said, his tone wistful. “I’ll bet everyone’s having fun.”
“I won’t take that bet. I know they are.” She waited for him to comment. But he just looked glum. “We had fun tonight, too,” she said in a coaxing tone.
With a sigh, he dropped into one of the chairs in front of the fire and stared at the flames.
She took a seat across from him. “It’s Christmas, darling. You’re supposed to be happy. Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
Once again, he looked at the candle in the window. “Do you remember something Reverend Norton said a few years ago at a dinner party? The one where you let me eat with the grownups? Do you remember how Reverend Norton said a Christmas candle was often a poor family’s only form of celebration? How candles and lamp oil were a luxury to those in poverty, who often went to bed with the setting of the sun and got up at the first sign of daylight, so they didn’t waste oil or candles?”
“I didn’t think you were listening.” He’d been sullen that night, and she’d hesitated to inflict his presence on company.I’m glad I did.
“IheardReverend Norton, but I don’t think I reallylistenedto those words this last year.”
She nodded her understanding.
“In church tonight, we passed the offering plate for the poor, and everyone put money in—their Christmas offering. But I doubt many of those people know anyone poor—well, servants. But they probably don’t think of their servants as either people or poor.”
“Sweetwater Springs taught me differently.” This year, Edith made sure to give the Graysons’ servants a generous Christmas bonus.
“Last year, when I gave away Uncle Caleb’s gift bags to everyone who attended the party, I could see their faces light up. They were genuinely grateful, and the children were so excited about receiving some candy and cookies.” He smiled and spread his arms. “I felt about ten feet tall. Best Christmas, ever.”
He sent her a guilty look. “Well, those with Papa….”
She leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee. “I know what you mean. The holidays with your father were special, but we took them for granted.”
“Tonight, so much food was served. We were all stuffed and still the courses kept coming. And everyone had so many presents.” He shook his head. “I received toys like I’m still a little boy—soldiers, another sailboat.” He gave her a quick smile. “Except for the telescope and ice skates from you. Those aren’t toys.”
“I’m glad you liked the gifts.” Edith didn’t tell him she missed buying toys for a little boy.You’ve grown up too fast.
“I haven’t played with toys for a year. When we moved here, I left some behind for Charlotte, but the rest I gave to the Salters.”
