Page 77 of Beyond Montana's Sky
He opened the firebox and used the coal shovel to bank the coals.
“The hot pads are in here.” She moved to a boxy cabinet between the stove and the doorway and pulled open the top drawer. A stack of thick, crocheted hot pads lay next to some folded dishtowels. The pile of dishtowels was pretty low, probably due to the maids using most of them to dry dishes tonight. She removed one hot pad and handed it to Ben and kept another to protect the table.
After carrying the saucepan to the table, Ben carefully poured the chocolate into the mugs. He set the saucepan on the hot pad.
Edith plucked two cinnamon sticks from their tin and dropped one into each mug. Looking up, she exchanged smiles with Ben, took a seat, and reached for her mug, feeling the warmth. “Now, isn’t this better?” She stirred the cinnamon stick.
With a grin, he joined her. “Everything’s always better with hot chocolate.” His gaze roamed the room. “I never was down here much. Seems so isolated. At least Uncle Caleb didn’t put the kitchen on the ground floor.”
“I think that was Mrs. Graves’s idea in the design of your uncle’s house. She didn’t want to be climbing an extra set of stairs if she didn’t have to.”
Ben frowned into his cup. “Life’s not the same here, Mama.” He looked up at her, his expression earnest. “I’mnot the same. I know when I said so before, you said to have patience, to give Boston time to become familiar again. But, Mama, I don’t think I’ll change that much. I don’t want to change into a spoiled person again.”
“Ben, you’llneveragain be that boy.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You can live in Boston, choose a simpler lifestyle, and also help those in need.”
He shrugged. “That’s a long time away, when I’m grownup.”
“You have a generous allowance, darling.” She touched his arm. “Put your money to good use.”
He nodded.
“Too bad we can’t be in two places at once.” She tried making her voice light. “Sweetwater Springs and here.”
A frown was her only answer.
“Your presence gave your grandparents a great deal of pleasure and comfort.”
“When we sang “Silent Night,” Grandmother had tears in her eyes.”
Her throat tightened, remembering how she’d forced herself to sing. She swallowed. “That was your uncle’s favorite carol.”
“Once she hugged me so tight. I thought she was going to break down and sob. I squeezed her and made a joke so she’d laugh.” He looked down. “Must be so hard to have both your sons gone.”
Since the night is ripe for confidences….“Your father also had two older sisters. They died young before he was born. Anna Beth was your grandparents’ firstborn. She was six and Sarah Marie was two when they died of influenza within days of each other. George was a baby at the time, but he was sent to stay with relatives so he didn’t become ill.”
Ben’s face whitened. Tears sheened his eyes. He shook his head and sat in silence for a while before stirring. “Sometimes, I want to go home so bad. But then I spend time with my grandparents and Aunt Julia and my cousins, and I know I must stay here.”
Moisture threatened her vision, and then spilled over. “I know, my son. I know only too well.”
“But you don’t have to stay with me, Mama,” Ben said earnestly. “I turn seventeen next month. I’ll be away at the university next year, anyway. You’re not happy here, I can tell. You can go home.”
Although touched by his offer, Edith couldn’t imagine herself living without her darling, wonderful son. “Where you areismy home, my love.”
He shrugged. “Then I guess we’re stuck.”
Edith forced a smile. She picked up her half-full mug and made a saluting gesture. “We have hot chocolate, remember? So, this house isn’t a bad place to be stuck.”
Ben touched his mug to hers. “Guess you’re right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
On New Year’s Eve, the hansom cab carrying Cai turned down a narrow street, the horse’s hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones. He leaned to look out the window at the row houses, windows bright with light. Gas streetlights glowed, showing glimpses of the tall, narrow buildings, many with bay windows. He wondered with a shudder how so many people could live so close together.
Cai already discovered if he looked up, the stars wouldn’t shine as bright as in Montana. He pitied the city folk who never knew the true beauty of the heavens.
