Page 9 of The Sound of Sleighbells

“That’s right. Like I say, I know you’re busy, but a man’s got to eat. I’m inviting you to an old-fashioned Thanksgiving dinner, Thursday afternoon at my place.”

* * *

“Have a happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. McCoy.” The towheaded fourth grader gave her a grin as he headed for the front door. His plaid wool coat looked as if it had been remade from a larger garment, and his hair appeared to have been cut with sewing scissors.

“Same to you, Robert.” Ruth paused in emptying a wastebasket into the trash barrel. The best part of her job was being around the children. She’d memorized the names and faces of every child in the school, and she loved seeing them light up when she recognized them. Having her own daughters here—Janeen in first grade and Tammy in preschool—made her life easier as well. After school, with permission, they could wait in the faculty room until she was ready to go home.

With the holiday coming tomorrow, school had been dismissed at noon. Students and staff were going home early. But Ruth still needed to leave the building ready for Monday. She’d emptied the wastebaskets and scrubbed the restrooms and was headed for the utility closet to get the floor polisher when Grace Delaney, who taught second grade, passed her in the hall, wearing her coat and carrying her purse.

“Goodness, Ruth, you’re going to be the last one out of here. It hardly seems fair.”

“Maybe not, but it beats having to come back on the weekend,” Ruth said. “Abner mentioned he was going to invite you for Thanksgiving dinner. Has he called yet?”

“Yes, but we can’t make it,” Grace said. “Sam’s cousin in Lubbock is hosting a big family reunion. We’ll be taking Maggie and driving there tonight. But I believe Cooper’s family is going to Abner’s.”

“Oh, that’ll please Skip. He’ll enjoy having Trevor there. I won’t keep you any longer, Grace. You have a safe trip, now.”

As she ran the polisher over the floor, Ruth’s thoughts skipped ahead to the list in her purse. Abner had given her his credit card to pick up what they needed for dinner. He’d offered to go himself, but with his arthritic knee, Ruth knew he’d have a hard time walking the aisles. She’d talked him into letting her go in his place.

The new Shop Mart, south of town, should have most of what she needed, including a fresh turkey. But pies and rolls from Stella’s Bakery on Main Street were a must. Since she’d had no time to order ahead, she would go there first and hope they weren’t sold out. If they were, she’d have no recourse except to buy the mass-produced frozen ones at the store.

Ruth finished her work, locked the school doors, loaded her girls into their boosters, and drove downtown. Main Street had been cordoned off to vehicles while city workers strung colored lights back and forth over the street, anchoring them to the lamp posts. More lights were going up on the tall blue spruce in the park. On Friday, all the lights would come on, signaling the start of Branding Iron’s Christmas season.

Ruth parked on a side street, took her girls by the hands, and walked around the corner to the bakery. Petite, blond Wynette Winston, who managed the business, was married to Branding Iron’s young sheriff. Last year she’d been a Christmas bride. This year she was due to become a Christmas mother.

“Hello, Ruth!” Her belly was straining the buttons of her pink smock, but she was as bubbly and cheerful as ever. “And I see you’ve brought your young ladies. How would you girls each like a sugar cookie?”

“Yes, please.” Janeen held out her hand, accepted two cookies, and gave one to her sister. “Thank you, Mrs. Winston,” she said.

“Such nice manners.” Wynette smiled. “What can I do for you, Ruth?”

“I know it’s late, but I’m hoping you have some dinner rolls and pies left.”

“We’re sold out. But I have a message for you. Jess Chapman came in early this morning and picked some up. She said, in case you came in, to tell you she’ll be bringing them to Abner’s tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Ruth exhaled with relief. “I suppose you’ll be having dinner with Buck’s family. They must be excited about the baby—it’s a boy, right?”

“Right. Buck’s sisters already have little ones, so he’ll have plenty of cousins growing up.” She pulled down her smock where it had begun to ride up over the bulge. “The doctor says everything looks good. I’m hoping the little guy will stay put until Christmas. But every day gets harder. I feel like a big, lumbering cow.”

“You? Never. You’re radiant, Wynette.”

“For that, you deserve a treat.” Wynette passed her a sugar cookie like the ones she’d given the girls. “You ladies have a great holiday.”

Ruth loaded her daughters into the station wagon and drove to Shop Mart. The big-box store was packed with shoppers, every aisle a traffic jam of carts. Fulfilling her list and getting through the long line to the cash register took almost two hours.

At last, she had everything she needed. But by then, the girls were tired and hungry. She’d planned to drive out to Abner’s place and unload the groceries there, to have them ready and waiting in the morning. But she was worn-out, and with two whiny little girls in the back seat, it hardly seemed worth the trouble. She could just leave the bagged groceries locked in the back of the station wagon. With the cold weather outside, everything should be fine, even the turkey.

In the morning, she would get up early and leave for Abner’s place. Skip could watch the girls at home while she unloaded the groceries, got the turkey stuffed and in the oven, and started on the rest of the fixings. Once everything was safely underway, she would take a break, drive home, freshen up, and fetch her children. If Jess arrived early to help, that would make the plan even easier. But either way, she could manage.

She pulled the station wagon up the driveway and left it securely locked next to the house. Skip was home, watching a basketball game on TV. The house was warm, the table cleared for supper. Ruth heated some leftover chili and made grilled cheese sandwiches. There wasn’t much conversation at the table. Ruth and the girls were tired, and Skip’s attention was focused on the ball game.

After supper, she gave the girls their baths, helped them into their pajamas, and tucked them into their beds. “Is tomorrow Thanksgiving?” Tammy murmured drowsily. “Will Daddy be here?”

Ruth’s memory flew back to last year’s Thanksgiving in their old house. She’d fixed a nice dinner and even helped Janeen make pilgrim and Indian hats out of colored paper and Scotch tape. After the meal, Ed had started drinking, and she’d asked Skip to take the girls out to play with the barn cat’s new kittens. By the time Ed passed out, he’d loosened her tooth and left a swollen bruise below her right eye. Ruth had called the sheriff to take Ed away, then told the girls she’d tripped over the rug. Skip, of course, had known better, but there was nothing he could do. Two days later, yet again, she’d dropped all charges and brought Ed home for the sake of their family.

This year, she vowed, everything was going to be different.

“No, sweetheart,” she answered her little one. “Daddy won’t be coming home. But we’re going to have a lovely dinner at Abner’s, with turkey and potatoes and pie. Yummy! ”

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