Page 58 of Montana Bride By Christmas
“We found a tree.” Hugh smiled. “Kenny insisted we look at it from every angle and made a great deal out of pointing out how perfect it was. He told me to stand back while he chopped it down, and then together we dragged it home and set it in a pail of sand in the corner of the living room. Kenny produced some bits of yarn—” Hugh grew thoughtful. “He must have gathered it up for weeks. He showed me how to tie it into bows, and we hung them on the tree.” He smiled and then chuckled. “I expect it looked pretty crude, but we were happy with it.”
Annie pictured two young boys doing their best to make the season special. She saw love and tenderness in every action.
“Kenny helped me make a star out of brown paper and tied it to the top of the tree. Kenny opened the big family Bible, found the Christmas story, and read it. He wasn’t a good reader, but I didn’t know, and if I had, I wouldn’t have cared. All that counted was this feeling of sharing something with my brother. I felt likeI mattered to him. Ma patted Kenny’s head and said, You are such a dear boy.”
His voice grew husky. “She never said anything to me, but Kenny squeezed my shoulder and said I was a dear boy too. Then he gave me a present wrapped in a bit of cloth.”
Hugh again got that faraway look in his eyes, and Annie knew he had gone back in his memories to that day.
“It was a wooden whistle he’d carved. Best gift I ever got.” He grew quiet and thoughtful. “Best Christmas I ever had.”
Annie realized that it was likely the last Christmas Kenny had been alive. Hugh had lost so much when he lost his brother. She decided she would make this Christmas one to rival that one. Both Evan and Hugh would have memories of this year that would stay with them the rest of their lives.
“Nothing special about your Christmases with the Stewarts?”
“They were older and thought a quiet time of reading and a new shirt was enough.”
She chuckled, hoping to draw him away from the darkness that filled his eyes. “Surely different than a Marshall Christmas. Ours have always been full of fun and activity.”
She was rewarded by the flare of interest in his eyes. A glance at Evan, and she knew he listened to every word.
“What is a Marshall Christmas like?” Hugh asked.
“When Ma was alive, she always found something special for each of us. I remember the year she bought me a hairbrush and hand mirror set with English roses painted on the back.” She still had them and cherished them.
“Go on.”
“We have a special breakfast—everyone’s favorites. Then Pa and the boys do chores. When they come in, we open presents.” She grinned. “It’s very noisy. We play games and then have a big dinner in the middle of the afternoon.”
“Sure is different than mine, isn’t it?”
“I think we both have special memories, and I think we should combine them to make our first Christmas memorable.” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t point out that he might find someone else before then.
He looked at Evan. He couldn’t possibly miss the eagerness in the boy’s eyes. He turned back to Annie. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. You’ll have to tell me what to do, though.”
“We’ll all work together.” Her mind whirled with what they could do. She thought of how Kenny had read Hugh the Christmas story. They could make figures to illustrate that. “We can start today if you like.”
“It’s almost a month away.”
“I know, but think how much fun we can have for a whole month.”
His expression could be best described as doubtful, but Evan’s was so hopeful she knew it was the right thing.
“What are we doing today?” Hugh asked.
“The Christmas story. Wait here.” She hurried through the cold living room and realized the storm still blasted outside. She chose to believe that God had given them this interlude so they could grow together as a family.
She returned with paper, pencils, and scissors. “Let’s draw the figures of those involved in the Christmas story.”
Hugh snorted. “You don’t want to see my drawing.”
“It’s not for public viewing. It’s for us. And making it is half the fun. What do you want to do? The wise men, the shepherds, sheep...?”
He stared at her. “You’re not joshing?”
“Nope. I’m perfectly serious.” Did he catch the referral to perfect? She wanted him to acknowledge she was perfect in her role of mother and would be equally perfect as wife.
“Evan, why don’t you come and join us? Grandfather?”
