Christmas morning, Ty could hardly wait to get to Betsy’s. He’d seen the candle burning in the window at the Larkins’ to guide the Christ child to their home. Just as surely, it had beckoned him. He hastily washed with cold water, shaved so he’d look respectable, and quickly hitched the horse to the sleigh. He’d already put the bags of gifts in the sleigh last night, excited to have a family he could celebrate Christmas with. It would be the first time since he was a small boy that Christmas would be filled with love.
The horses pulled the sleigh across the short distance. Bells jingled merrily, proclaiming the joy of Christ’s birth. The first rays of sun sparkled on the snow and made the whole world look full of promise.
Karl opened the door and ran out to greet him. “Mr. Ty! It’s Christmas! Can we show our secret now?”
Will danced from one foot to the other. “Betsy kept peering out the window, looking for you to come. She even made you gingerbread for breakfast.”
“That was ’posed to be a su’prise,” Marie chided.
All three kids stared wide-eyed as Ty set both bags down on the porch. He felt a spurt of delight at hearing Betsy had anticipated his arrival. Clearly, she wasn’t indifferent to him. Patience. He’d just wait, and she’d finally figure out that they were meant to marry. In the meantime, he chuckled as the kids tried to hide their curiosity and greed. “From that first Christmas, when God gave us His Son, Christmas has been about giving.”
Dressed in her faded blue Sunday gown, Betsy came to the doorway. Greta straddled her hip. “The sleigh bells sounded beautiful, Tyson. We’ve been looking forward to riding with you. Kids, hurry, or we’ll be late for church.”
“Aww,” Karl whined, “I want that gingerbread!”
Ty chortled at Betsy’s look of dismay. “I do, too,” he admitted. “Nothing on earth compares to your scrumptious gingerbread, hot from the fire. Betsy, would you mind if we all ate a chunk in the sleigh, on the way to church?”
His compliment made her whole face glow. Ty relished the way little things pleased her. He hoped the gift he had for her would bring her joy. Virginia Alexander refused to take any more food unless she could sew for him, so he’d bartered her sewing for his hunting. She’d been good about helping him keep things quiet so Betsy would be surprised.
“Gingerbread and children are a messy combination,” Betsy reminded him. “I suppose it’s all right, if you don’t mind sticky fingers in your sleigh.”
“If you pass Greta to me, I’ll wrap her in her cape. Boys, no fair peeking—you carry those bags inside.”
Betsy passed Greta to him, and he quickly slipped her into her blue woolen cape. She giggled when he gave her a playful squeeze. Marie scrambled in, and he soon had her tucked beneath a big bear fur to keep both girls warm. Once they dragged the heavy, clanging bags into the house, the boys joined their little sisters.
Ty got down and waited for Betsy. He shifted from one foot to the other, eager to have her beside him. She came out and put a fragrant basket into his hands. “Merry Christmas.”
“Mmmm.” He inhaled deeply. “Merry Christmas to you, too.” He passed the gingerbread up to Karl, then turned back to Betsy. “Your pa’s not coming?” he murmured softly so the children wouldn’t hear.
Betsy shook her head.
He cupped her waist and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. Maybe soon. We’ll keep praying.” For just an instant, she dipped her head and rested against his chest. Ty slipped his arms around her and held her tight for a sweet moment. She filled his arms just as perfectly as she filled his heart. All too quickly, she straightened up and pulled away.
She stammered, “We don’t want to be late.”
He lifted her into the sleigh and climbed up to sit next to her. Once he settled a lap blanket over their legs, he slipped an arm around Betsy and drew her close. It made sense to him that God used Adam’s rib to create Eve. With Betsy by his side, he finally felt complete.
Her eyes went wide.
“Huddle close, little lady. It’s cold as can be today.” He took up the reins and set off. The way she stayed next to him and fed him bites of gingerbread made his heart soar.
After church, they went home and had roast duck. Betsy gave Pa and the boys their new shirts and pants, then gave the girls their new dresses and aprons. She shyly put the cotton gloves in Ty’s hands. I hope he likes them….
“Will you look at these?” Ty beamed. “How did you know I needed these?”
“Karl told me. He traced around your old ones.”
“Your stitching is just as clever as his thinking.” Ty tried one on. “It’s an exact fit!”
Marie proudly gave Betsy and all of the men—including Ty—a handkerchief she’d hemmed. For Greta, she’d sewn a dolly blanket. Pa gave each of the little ones a shiny penny, an orange, and a tin whistle. For Betsy, he’d used a bit of his lumber money and gotten her a paper of sewing pins and a length of green wool, “So you can make yourself a skirt.”
It already seemed like the best Christmas ever, and then Ty dragged over the sacks. “Karl and Will have been busy,” he said. The boys’ scrawny chests puffed out with pride as the set of gardening tools appeared. “They made and painted the handles on these themselves.”
“You spent a lot of time with them,” Betsy looked into Ty’s eyes and marveled softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome!” Will said, oblivious to the fact that his sister had expressed appreciation for the mentor as much as for the tools.
Ty’s warm smile let Betsy know he understood her intent. He gave each boy a hammer and a bag of nails. “Young men with your talent need to have tools of their own. This is a start. I’m sure your pa can help you make toolboxes.”
“Can you, Pa?”
“Sure enough.” Pa smiled. Betsy couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Pa grin. That, alone, made the day.
“I thought we needed something pretty for the little princesses,” Ty said as he reached into his other sack. He set rabbit fur muffs in the girls’ laps. While they squealed with joy, he stood and carried the still-bulging sack behind Betsy. She sat still and didn’t dare turn around to see what he was doing. His deep voice dipped lower and made her shiver. “For the queen of the home.”
Something heavy descended on her shoulders and enveloped her—a cape of thick, soft, butternut wool. Betsy gasped as he stepped to her side and gently lifted the hood over her hair. Lined and edged with mink, it was the softest thing she’d ever felt. “Oh, Tyson! It’s beautiful.”
Ty drew her to her feet, and as he fastened the toggled buttons at the throat, he murmured, “Not half as beautiful as the woman it graces. I chose this,” his fingertip brushed the fur, “because it’s the same rich color as your eyes.”
He didn’t ask. He simply nodded to her pa, then escorted Betsy out the door. They went to the barn, and he quickly hitched the horses to the sleigh. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go for a ride.”
Betsy hesitated.
“I have a sled John Altmann had me make for his children that I need to drop off.”
Did she want people to see the two of them—just the two of them—together? Betsy didn’t know what to do. She wanted to be with Ty, but it was unfair to make him think they were courting. Just as bad, they’d travel straight through the length of town to reach the miller’s house. Goodness only knew how many tongues that would set wagging! She averted her gaze. “Tyson, I’ve told you we can’t be more than friends.”
He cupped his hands around her waist. “I asked you to ride with me to deliver a sled. I won’t try to sneak a kiss or propose again. Come along as my friend. You can help distract the kids so John and I can unload the sled without them seeing it.”
His hands stayed at her waist. She could feel their strength all of the way through her new cape and clothes. They could be no more than friends, but she’d learn to accept and enjoy that. So far, she had—and it was good. Betsy nodded.
“There’s my girl.” His deep, soft tone held approval.
Once Ty lifted her into the sleigh, he put on his jacket and slipped the muffler she’d made for him around his neck. After he climbed up, she turned and carefully pulled it higher, over his ears. “Your ears will get too cold. If you still have some fur, I could sew you a cap.”
“I’d be obliged, Betsy.” He flicked the reins, and the sleigh pulled out into the snow.
“I’m obliged, Tyson. You were far too generous for Christmas. We’re all overwhelmed.”
He tilted his head and studied her for a moment. “Betsy, my pa died when I was Marie’s age. Ma married up again. The day she had his son, he sent me out to the shed. I thought it was for a whuppin’, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. Fact is, it wasn’t for a whuppin’ at all. I lived in the shed. He had no room in his home or heart for me. Ma couldn’t do much, else he’d take away her new babe. Almost four years later, they apprenticed me out to a blacksmith.”
Tears filled her eyes. “How awful for you!”
“It wasn’t good. I’m not telling you this for pity; I’m telling you so you can understand what a gift it is to me that you and yours open your door and welcome me in. The little things I do and bring are tokens of my gratitude. I couldn’t ever begin to match what you’ve given me. The Christian love you share makes every day feel like Christmas to me.”