Page 27 of The Gift of Seeds
Krista pouted. “Inga didn’t let me hold the reins.”
Inga ignored her sister and, from one of her books, pulled out four cards decorated with Christmas scenes, fanned them out, and held them up for him to see. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Yes, they are.”
She carefully replaced them between the pages of her book. “Mrs. Gordon gave them to us. She had one for every student.”
Dale glanced out the window. Dusk approached. “Is Mr. Canfield taking you home?
“He’s outside walking the horses, so they don’t get too cold.”
Their genuine charm made him want to continue the conversation. “What are you hoping Saint Nicolas will bring you?”
Krista wrinkled her nose. “St. Nicolas doesn’t come to our house. Ma says we’re too high up the mountain for him, even with the reindeers pulling his sleigh in the sky.”
“But we’ve gotten to go to church and the party at the hotel.” Marta gave a little bounce. “We had amarvlisstime!”
Inga patted Marta’s head, as if to keep her feet on the ground. “Mar-va-lous,” she gently corrected.
“Marv-a-liss,” Marta repeated. “Just not this year because of the storm.”
“But that’s all right.” Elsabe seemed to think Dale needed reassurance. “Ma says the best Christmas is when we’re all together and everyone is healthy.”
No presents. No holiday party. Yet, they’re so happy.
Would his sisters have been this sweet if his father had lived and softened his stern demeanor? If they had a loving mother, grandmother, and aunts? He held in a sigh.How different life would have been for all of us.
The thought made his chest ache, and he put his palm over the spot and pushed against the pain. Underneath his palm, he felt the crackle of paper—the letter he’d picked up earlier from the train station and folded into his vest pocket. His secondoldest sister, Annabelle, had nominated herself as the family correspondent. She wrote him long, newsy letters about her husband and children, sometimes including tidbits about the rest of the family.
She seemed to care about her children. But he hadn’t let himself believe what she put on paper.Could Annabelle have made herself into a loving mother?
Another family took their purchases and left. The Swensen girls moved in front of Mrs. Ritter, all talking at once to put in their order.
Dale pulled some dollar bills from his pocket and waved them over the back of the girls’ heads.
Mrs. Ritter caught the gesture and glanced over.
He pointed to the money in his other hand, and then to the children.
With a wink and a nod at him, she leaned closer to the counter to talk to the girls. “Since you four are the last people in the store besides Mr. Marsden, and I’ve already boxed up his order….” She made a sad face. “I still have so many sweets left, and I don’t want them to go to waste. So, I’m going to give you all a good deal.”
Dale prayed that no other customers would come in while the girls were here to dispute Mrs. Ritter’s assertions with their presence.
“A gingerbread cookie for each of you, along with the ones for the rest of your family.Andone peppermint stick for everyone. Or should we skip Olaf?”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Ritter,” Elsabe said, her expression solemn. “Olaf can suck on his for a little bit if one of us holds it for him.”
Mrs. Ritter’s eyes dance, although she kept on a professional smile. “All right, then. Nine gingerbread people and nine peppermint sticks for four cents. Deal?”
“Deal,” they chorused.
Watching the luminous joy on their faces warmed something inside Dale—the heart he’d frozen long ago to make it as impervious to hurt as possible—melted like an icicle in the sun.
Inga handed the book bundle to Elsabe and reverently took the bag of goodies, tied with averylong red ribbon, from Mrs. Ritter. “Thank you, ma’am, and Happy Christmas.” She shot a look to her sisters that had them all wishing Mrs. Ritter a “Happy Christmas.”
Turning, she hastened toward the door, her sisters following like ducklings after their mother.
Marta paused, turned and waved. “Bye, Mr. Mar-den.”
