Chapter Six
The last few days of November drifted into the final month of 1863. David read in the paper that on December 2, the “Goddess of Freedom Triumphant” was hoisted to the top of the Capitol dome in Washington City. He recalled seeing the uncompleted structure from a hilltop last June when he and his comrades captured a Yankee wagon train.
On December 3, the Confederacy was dealt yet another blow. According to the newspaper, General Longstreet ended his siege on Knoxville and was unable to penetrate Federal defenses. And on December 8, Abraham Lincoln announced a formal plan for reconstruction of the South. The Northern government would allow any Southern state to rejoin the Union after one-tenth of its voters pledged an oath of loyalty and accepted wartime measures of emancipation.
This infuriated David. He wondered how Mr. Lincoln could have the audacity to propose such a plan with the war still raging. Perhaps the Confederacy would have a chance to strike back, although it probably wouldn’t occur until next spring.
As Christmas drew nearer, he hurried to complete his projects while finding time to hunt deer with Patrick. They brought down two bucks, and shot a few geese as well. David decided Renegade might finally be strong enough to support his weight, so one day in mid-December, he mounted his colt and walked him around the barnyard.
Anna came out to observe. “Is he able to gallop?” she asked.
“Not for a spell yet.” He rode up to her, grinning. “It shouldn’t be too long, though,” he replied, relieved his colt was finally recuperated and hadn’t become permanently lame like he had feared.
“When he’s healed, will you still stay?” Anna’s expression became serious.
He stepped down from his horse. “Miss Anna,” he said, “I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it.”
“Oh, good!” Smiling radiantly, she reached out and took his hand. Quickly realizing her forward gesture, she let go. “Well, I’d better go help Aunt Sarah.”
She went into the house, leaving him mesmerized.
Christmas Eve was on a Thursday. The moment he awoke, a profound sadness came over him. He knew why he felt so horrible. The vow he’d made to his father ate away at him. David had promised he would remain behind to protect their family, but he had broken that promise, and he was guilt-ridden over it. If anything should happen to them, he would hold himself solely responsible. After dressing, he went downstairs to see the girls gathered around the kitchen table. They looked up at him as he entered.
“David? What is it?” Anna asked.
He sank down onto a chair.
“Are you feeling all right? You’re not troubled about the party tonight are you?” She glanced at her sisters. “We’ve been practicing your words every day, and I think you’ll do fine.”
“It ain’t that,” he replied, forcing a smile. The three sisters glared at him, compelling him to explain. “It’s jist that, a year ago last Christmas Eve, we found out Pa had been killed at Fredericksburg.”
Abigail gasped.
“Oh,” responded Maggie, a flash of sympathy crossing her face.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said. “If there’s anything we can do—” Her voice trailed off.
“No, I don’t reckon there is.” He looked at the floor.
Anna quickly stood. “I’m going to make you something very special for Christmas,” she proclaimed. “We want this to be a joyous occasion, don’t we, sisters?”
“Yes,” Abigail chimed in. “Oh, yes!”
Maggie grimaced. Rising from her chair, she said, “How can it be joyous, Anna? We’re in the midst of a war, and we have the enemy living with us right under our own roof.” Snorting in disgust, she stormed out of the room.
Anna and Abigail looked at each other.
“Don’t mind her,” Abigail told him. “The rest of us are glad you’re here.” She walked around the table and hugged him.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Miss Abigail. That means a lot to me.”
She pulled away, smiling at him.
“Maybe this Christmas will be better,” he remarked. “Reckon it can’t be much worse.”
Anna reached out to pat his hand. “Tonight, I want us to say a prayer, and I know your father will be listening.”
He shrugged, still unable to forgive God for forsaking him by taking his father and Jake. Now the Lord had abandoned him in the Northland. David knew Anna was aware of this, although she still insisted on trying to calm his soul with Scripture. It hadn’t been much comfort, but she seemed determined not to give up on him.
Sarah yelled from the parlor, “The Burrows are here.”
The girls hurried to the front door, and David followed. They greeted their friends while he assisted the arrivals with their luggage. He noticed a thin blanket of snow had fallen atop the previous snowfall during the night, making it even more reminiscent of last year’s Christmas. A flash of sorrow clenched his heart.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Claudia said, jumping from the buggy. At first he thought she was speaking to Abigail, but the little girl hugged him and nearly caused him to drop the trunk he was carrying.
“Well, I’m right happy to see you too, Miss Claudia,” he replied with a grin. He glanced at Grace. To his relief, she smiled at him.
“I have been baking all week,” she announced, pulling a basket down from the seat. The ladies went inside, chattering excitedly about the party, the war, and Christmas in general. David graciously carried their luggage into the bedroom across the hall from the parlor.
“We have lots of practicing to do,” Abigail excitedly said to Claudia.
They ran over to David, taking hold of his hands.
“Come sit with us.”
Leading him over to the piano bench, they sat him down. The little girls sat on either side, sandwiching him between them.
“I don’t know how to play this here pie-anee,” he admitted jokingly, and winked at Abigail.
“It’s called a piano,” she corrected.
“We’ll show you how to play,” Claudia said.
She spread his fingers across the keys, picked up his hand, and dropped it so it came crashing down upon the ivories.
The sound appalled him. “Oh.” David pulled his hand away. “Why don’t y’all play instead,” he suggested and stood, taking notice of the ladies who had gathered around. The little girls commenced into Christmas carols.
Sarah smiled at him. “Do you play an instrument?” she asked.
This question seemed to intrigue the other ladies, who all gazed at him.
“Yes ma’am,” he timidly replied. “I play the guitar.”
“I thought it was the banjo,” Anna remarked.
He snickered. “No, Miss Anna. Those are jist lyrics to the song is all.”
“Well,” said Grace, “it’s too bad we don’t have a guitar for you to entertain us with.”
He faintly smiled in return, somewhat relieved he wouldn’t be put on display. The impending charade was enough for him to have to deal with. “Ladies, have y’all considered findin’ a tree for this evenin’?” he asked.
Abigail and Claudia ceased their rendition of “Oh Come All Ye Faithful.” “We want to go,” they whined in unison.
“No, girls. You have practicing to do,” Sarah reminded.
“I would go with you,” said Anna, “but I still have too much to do before this evening, including some receipts to go through in preparation for tomorrow’s dinner.”
“That’s all right,” David replied. “I’ll find one. Please pardon me, ladies.” He started for the door.
“Wait,” Anna said. “Maggie will go with you.”
David and Maggie looked at each other. He waited for her to protest.
Instead, she merely said, “Fine, let’s go.”
Walking past him, she threw on her coat and muff and went outside. He put on his outer garments and reluctantly followed her. They went to the barn, and David hitched Alphie to the sled. Neither one of them said a word. Renegade softly nickered from his stall, his ears pricked in curiosity. David gathered an ax and saw. He led Alphie out of the barn to a mounting step.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Let me help you up,” he offered.
“I can do it,” she snapped, climbing up the steps. She slid onto Alphie’s back. Looking down at David, she asked, “Aren’t you getting on?”
He smirked. “I’ll lead him,” he replied, thinking he was safer on the ground.
Leading the Shire into the woods, he coaxed him down a deer path. When they had reached a thicket, Maggie slid off. She walked around and closely observed a stand of pines.
“How about that one?” she asked, pointing.
He looked into the stand, but couldn’t distinguish the tree she meant. “Which one?” he asked.
“That one right there,” she said, shaking her hand with her index finger extended. She huffed before stomping into the stand. “This one!”
Perplexed, he said, “Miss Maggie, that one’ll be hard to git at.”
“I know.”
He sighed. After retrieving the ax, he walked into the pines. The needles pricked his neck and face, but he did his best to cut down the chosen tree. He glanced over at Maggie, who stood with her hands in her muff, grinning. Shaking his head, he continued chopping for a few minutes. He walked over to Alphie for the saw, pushed his way back through the poking pine needles, and sawed quickly, eager to end the dreadful chore. At last, the tree trunk cracked and split. The pine tumbled to the ground, bouncing off two other trees before it hit. He walked out to where the top had landed and pulled it from the cluster.
Looking over at her, he asked, “Ain’t you gonna help?”
She smiled. “You’re doing just fine.”
David grunted. After struggling to pull the tree out, he dragged it over to Alphie, heaved it onto the sled, tied it on, and turned back to face her.
He brushed the pine needles from his coat. “Did I git all the pine tags off?” he asked.
She nodded, grinned slightly in amusement, and walked over to him.
Removing his slouch hat to shake needles from it, he asked, “Would you like me to give you a foot up?”
She snorted. “No, I’ll walk, thank you.”
Skeptically arching an eyebrow at her, he wondered what she might have in store for him next.
They led the bay Shire back toward the farmhouse in awkward silence. He listened to their feet crunch on the new-fallen snow. The air was crisp and cold; the horse’s breath blew out like a steam locomotive. Thoughts of Christmases past rushed through David’s mind, Christmases he had spent with his family, Jake, and Callie. They seemed like a lifetime ago. Even last year’s Christmas was but a distant memory. He remembered how he and his little sister, Josie, had gone searching for a tree before their father’s friend, Bud Samuels, arrived with the terrible news. He hoped Josie was somehow able to enjoy this Christmas, in spite of what had happened last year. His heart ached with the thought of his family and how they must assume him to be dead by now.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Maggie noticed.
He glanced over at her and looked down at her hand, half-expecting to see a knife or a gun poised at him. “I was jist thinkin’—about last Christmas.”
“Oh,” Maggie responded.
They walked farther until they came out of the trees. David glanced at her again. He couldn’t decide if he should speak, since she eagerly criticized his every word.
“Miss Maggie,” he muttered, “I’ve been meanin’ to thank you for savin’ my life.” He stared at the white, snow-covered ground. “And I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
She kept walking, saying nothing.
He frowned. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from threatenin’ me with my shaving razor, or anything else, for that matter.”
Maggie snorted.
“Oh, and by the way, I found my handgun.”
This grabbed her attention. She glared at him worriedly.
He hid his smirk under the brim of his hat.
They led Alphie to the front of the house. David tied the horse and carried the magnificent tree into the parlor. The ladies came in to see.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Anna proclaimed.
“We’ll go fetch the ornaments,” Abigail said excitedly. She and Claudia ran upstairs.
“Well, David, this is wonderful,” said Sarah. “It’s even taller than you are.”
The ladies chuckled.
Placing the tree in the stand, he stood back to admire it with the rest. “Miss Maggie picked it out.” He looked over at her. To his surprise, she smiled at him.
“I can’t take all of the credit,” she said. “I’ll be in the kitchen, stringing berries.” She walked past him, throwing a glance his way as she left the parlor.
The little girls returned with two boxes. They carefully set them on the sofa and pulled the lids off to reveal blown-glass ornaments of every color. David gazed at them, astounded, for even though his mother had a few similar ones, most were hand-made by her children. He watched the ladies hang ornaments on the tree; but his nostalgia for home became overwhelming, so he turned to leave.
“David, come here and help us,” Anna requested.
Biting his lower lip, he turned back to face her. She held an ornament out to him. He forced a grin, took it from her, and very cautiously hooked the delicate ornament onto a bough.
“We have the star to go on top.” Sarah pulled a shiny, silver, hand-blown glass star from a box. Holding it with both hands, she carefully carried it over to David, “You’re tall enough to reach that high,” she said, smiling.
Overcome, he took the ornament from her. Being careful not to drop it, he gingerly placed the dainty star on the pine top. Stepping back, he observed his work and looked over to see Anna smiling at him. His painful memories faded as he smiled back at her.
Patrick arrived an hour before the party, not surprisingly, with a bottle of whiskey in hand. He informed David the Meyers were in Dover for the holiday since Ida had a relative there. The two men stood in the kitchen and passed the bottle between them while Patrick quizzed David on his “New York” accent.
Anna entered, adorned in a burgundy gown. She had tied her golden hair up with ribbons. Awestruck, David could only gawk at her. Coming to his senses, he followed Patrick’s lead and complimented her on her appearance.
“You’re a true belle,” he said, flashing her a shy smile.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she replied. She spun around and curtsied.
The three of them chuckled.
“Now, David, don’t be anxious. I’ll be right here in case you need me.” She walked over to the kitchen counter and placed delicacies on a platter.
“Yes’m,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m as nervous as a cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.”
Patrick snickered at his Southern locution. Anna glanced over at him, which reminded David to correct himself.
“I mean, yes, Miss Anna.”
She frowned, and Patrick chuckled again.
“That ain’t right, neither?” he asked.
“Just refer to me and my sisters by our Christian names,” she instructed, “or by ‘cousin’.”
He nodded, thinking the entire evening was bound to be a complete absurdity.
“Best to be avoidin’ talk of politics, David,” Patrick advised.
Best not to speak at all, he thought. This is fixin’ to be a very long evenin’.
The dogs barked outside.
“Oh, they’re here!” Anna hurried out of the kitchen.
The young men followed.
David heard people being greeted at the front door. He stood back from the rest behind Patrick, mentally preparing himself for his performance. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery exchanged compliments with Grace, Claudia, Sarah, and her nieces. A blonde girl with ringlets entered, followed by a Union soldier in uniform. David glared at him, repulsed by his appearance, but concealed his disgust. Anna hugged the soldier.
“It’s been so long, Stephen,” she said. “How I’ve missed you.”
David’s heart lurched.
“And you, my dear.” Stephen stepped back, removing his kepi to expose a full head of thick blonde hair. “So much has happened since I last saw you. How have you been? How is your health?”
“Fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Since your father passed, my thoughts have been with you constantly,” he said. Surprisingly, he laughed. “I remember him telling me, when you and I were both in our youth, how I should be the one to marry you once we were grown.”
“I know, Stephen. He told me many a-time as well. But now we know better. Things have changed significantly since Father passed.” She requested their coats. Turning her back to him, she threw a glare at David, who read the sarcasm in her countenance.
The soldier approached Patrick and shook his hand. Approaching David, he asked, “Anna, who do we have here?”
The girl with the pipe curls who had entered with Stephen drew closer to David, making him somewhat uncomfortable.
“This is my second cousin, David Summers, from New York,” Anna responded cheerfully.
“From New York,” the soldier repeated. Smiling, he extended his hand.
David hesitated but forced himself to take it.
“Splendid to meet you, sir. I’m Stephen Montgomery.”
“And I’m his younger sister, Mary,” said the girl with the ringlets. Pushing past her brother, she drew so close to David that he felt compelled to step back. “Hello, Mr. Summers,” she said, extending her hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Batting her lashes, her blue eyes sparkled.
“Miss.” He cordially took her hand and kissed the back of it.
She giggled. “Why, Anna, you never told us you had a cousin in New York.”
Her demeanor reminded David of Callie.
“Yes, well, we haven’t seen each other since we were very young,” Anna replied. She flashed a questioning look at David.
Patrick saw and snickered.
“And these are our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” Anna introduced.
“David Summers,” Mr. Montgomery said as they shook. “Are you related to the Summers of Lancaster?”
“No, Father,” said Mrs. Montgomery, allowing David to kiss the back of her hand. “He’s from New York.”
“Oh.” Mr. Montgomery scratched his gray-streaked beard. “What do you do for a living, young man?”
David glanced at Sarah, who smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m—a farmer,” he said, remembering to accentuate his R’s.
“And what do you farm, sir?” asked Stephen.
“Crops, mostly,” he stated.
The gathering chuckled. Stephen frowned.
“David, may I see you for a moment?” Anna requested.
He excused himself and heard Sarah suggest they all take a seat while he followed Anna into the kitchen. Once he had entered, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Try not to act so nervous,” she instructed in a hushed tone and handed him a plate of hors d’oeuvres.
He sighed again to summon his courage before following her back into the parlor.
Claudia and Abigail began their performance. They started by playing “There’s a Song in the Air.”
David set the plate on the marble-topped parlor table and looked up to see Patrick grinning at him.
Stephen stood and strode over to him. “So, Mr. Summers, are you here for the holiday?” he pried, smiling. He had a warm, friendly way about him. David wondered if Anna had misread his intentions.
“For the duration,” he responded.
Stephen’s brown eyes grew concerned. “The duration of what?”
“The war,” Anna told him. “He’s here to oversee the farm for Uncle Bill until he returns home.”
Stephen’s expression darkened. David realized Anna hadn’t misread him after all. “Oversee? What does that mean?”
Patrick moved closer to the little gathering.
“It means he’s in charge of operations, and he will probably inherit the farm,” Anna said with conviction.
Stephen glared at David. “Oh,” he said cheerfully, his demeanor transparent. “Why haven’t you enlisted, Mr. Summers?”
David glanced at Patrick. “I paid my three-hundred-dollar computation fee,” he lied.
“You’re not one of those bounty jumpers, are you?” Stephen leered.
David scoffed at the notion. He remembered being told about bounty jumpers by his messmates. Some men in the North joined up to receive a cash bounty, promptly deserted, and joined up again in order to obtain another bounty.
Mary, who had been standing close by, asked, “Where on earth did you get three hundred dollars?”
“It’s an inheritance,” said Anna. “Let’s sing carols.” She took Mary by the arm and directed her toward the box piano.
“Who died?” Stephen inquired. His eyes narrowed as he stared at David.
“His father,” Patrick interjected.
“Oh.” Stephen frowned. “Would that be the cousin of Anna’s father or mother?”
David couldn’t remember the drill. He looked at Patrick for support, but the Irishman only shrugged.
“Uh, her mother,” David replied.
Trying to mask his uneasiness, he walked across the room, nervously sat down, and wondered if he would be discovered after all. He stared at the floor, listening to Abigail play “We Three Kings from Orient Are.” Struggling to regain his composure, he thought another swig of whiskey might do him good. He glanced around, noticing how the ornaments on the tree sparkled. The firelight and candles resplendently flickered and reflected off them. Everyone was dressed in beautiful clothing, except for him. Instead, he wore Anna’s deceased father’s suit, which was barely long enough. Realizing his inadequacy, he grew even more self-conscious, so he crossed his arms and legs.
The little girls took turns playing “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” “Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel,” and “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” Deciding to take a break, they headed straight for the plates of gingerbread and sugar cookies, meringues, rock candy, and chocolate creams. Patrick motioned to him, so David quickly followed him into the kitchen. To his relief, Patrick uncorked the whiskey bottle.
“How am I doin’ so far?” he asked.
Patrick handed him the bottle. “Here, take another nip.” He chuckled at his friend’s worried expression.
David took a long pull from the bottle and handed it back.
“Here’s to your nerves,” Patrick said with a laugh and swigged from the bottle.
Stephen soon appeared in the kitchen and took the opportunity to interrogate further, making David feel like a mouse being stalked by a cat.
“Where did you say you’re from, Mr. Summers?” he inquired with a smirk.
“Ala—er, Albany,” he replied, nearly choking on his mistake.
“What county is that?” Stephen asked.
Mary and Anna entered the room.
“Um, it’s in New York,” he responded, glaring at Anna in panic.
“Have you seen the armory?” asked Stephen.
David shook his head.
“The Quakenbush House? How about the Hudson River itself?”
David shook his head again. “I don’t get off the farm much.” He shrugged.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Tell us, dear Stephen, how ye managed to evade the fightin’ yourself.”
He smiled at Stephen, but David could sense deep-seated resentment between the two of them.
“I was injured at First Bull Run,” Stephen said. He ran his hand through his thick blonde hair.
“Injured, ye say?” Patrick pressed. “And where might that be?”
“Right here.” Stephen extended his left hand to show a mangled little finger.
David stifled a laugh. “Pshaw,” he said. “Is that it?”
Mary drew closer to her brother. “Stephen has friends in Washington who decided he was eligible for a promotion. He is now a sergeant-major.”
She smiled proudly at her brother, who flashed a grin at her before he turned his gaze to Anna.
David noticed the three chevrons with three rockers on his sleeve, the insignia of a sergeant-major. They were blue, which told him Stephen had served in the infantry. “You got promoted all the way up to sergeant-major for a crushed finger?” he asked in awe.
“Yes, that’s right,” Stephen fired back.
David snorted. “A promotion for an injured finger from First Mannass—uh, the Great Skedaddle,” he corrected himself and remarked, “If that don’t beat all.”
“At least I’ve seen the fighting. Unlike you.” Stephen glared at him with indignation.
David felt his anger rising. Clenching his teeth, he glowered back scornfully.
Sarah came into the kitchen. Immediately noticing the two young soldiers glaring at each other, she gasped and glanced at Anna, who appeared stunned.
“Please come into the parlor for singing and lively interview,” Sarah said, attempting to diffuse the situation. Stepping toward David, she quickly took his arm.
“Bully for Grant,” Mr. Montgomery bellowed from the parlor. “Bully for Sherman too!”
“Don’t lose your temper, dear,” Sarah whispered and escorted him into the parlor.
They entered the candlelit room. Expelling a sigh, he sat down on a green velvet chair beside Stephen’s father, who vigorously puffed on a fat cigar.
“He’s a humbug, I say,” Mr. Montgomery exclaimed, speaking to his wife and Grace.
“Who’s a humbug, Papa?” Mary inquired, sitting in a chair on the other side of her father.
“Jefferson Davis, that’s who!”
David scowled, his ire rising. Biting his lower lip to contain it, he glanced over the gathering. He felt so out of place he thought he might burst. This was becoming far more than he could bear.
“That man is a tyrant,” Mr. Montgomery continued. “When this war is over, I’ll be the first in line to see him hang.”
David stared at the Oriental rug on the floor. Unable to sit there any longer and listen to Mr. Montgomery’s rhetoric dishonoring the South’s beloved president, he abruptly stood, walked out of the parlor, and went outside onto the front porch.
Patrick followed. “Now, David, don’t be gettin’ your Irish up.” He grinned, handing him the bottle.
He took a few swigs.
Patrick jokingly remarked, “Best be slowin’ down a bit, lad.”
“Do you think they’d notice if we left?” David’s head started to spin.
Patrick snickered. “Aye. Sure’n you know our Anna needs us here. The party will be over soon enough.” He pulled out his pipe, so David obligingly handed him the pouch of tobacco he’d shoved into his pocket in preparation for his friend’s arrival. Patrick took a deep puff and said, “‘Tis nearly a full moon.”
Stephen emerged from the house. “Chilly evening, isn’t it?” His charming smile had returned. David felt like he was in the company of an alligator, calm and docile on the outside, but ready to strike and devour at a moment’s notice.
“Indeed,” Patrick replied.
“Mind if I have some of that?” Stephen pulled a pipe from his coat pocket.
David glanced over at him. He noticed the buttons, the piping, the blue fabric, and the embroidery on his sleeves that reminded him of all the Yankees he’d seen on the battlefields. He looked away. Patrick handed the pouch to Stephen, who filled the bowl of his pipe. He lit it and puffed.
“This is very good,” he stated, inhaling again.
“‘Tis David’s,” Patrick blurted.
Stephen smiled. “Hmm. Where did you get this? It tastes like Southern tobacco.”
David shuddered. He was glad the darkness concealed his reaction. “A friend of mine,” he responded, unable to say any more.
Maggie came to the front door and called them back in. They followed her into the parlor, where the discussion was still taking place. Mr. Montgomery immediately drew Patrick and Stephen into the conversation. He expressed his feelings on how he disagreed with the Copperheads, who were willing to accept the South back into the Union under a negotiation with concession, and how he agreed more with the Radical Republicans, who were in favor of total surrender and victory followed by severe punishment. He then proceeded to complain about how the confounded War Department had been purchasing shoddy uniforms for the grand army of the United States.
“They ought to be ashamed,” he said, finishing his rant.
According to Sarah, The Sanitary Commission was doing an excellent job improving conditions for the soldiers in battle. Mrs. Montgomery agreed, noting the book she’d recently read, titled Hospital Sketches. It was written by a nurse named Louisa May Alcott, who was assisting the Union army.
The topic drifted to paintings of Whistler and Monet, how men were now able to measure the speed of light, and the oil wells in Titusville and Oil Creek. Mr. Montgomery brought up Darwin’s theory of evolution, which David had discussed numerous times around the campsite with his fellow cavaliers. He sat back and listened silently while the others exchanged conjectures. Most of the discussion concerned things he knew very little about. Mr. Montgomery invited his opinion, but he declined, afraid of revealing himself.
The little girls resumed their repertoire of carols during all of this, entertaining their audience with “Joy to the World,” “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” and “Angels We Have Heard on High.”
Anna turned to David. “My cousin here has a very lovely singing voice,” she said. “David, why don’t you sing something for us?”
Mortified, David gawked at her in disbelief. “Uh, what would you have me sing, cousin?” he asked, embarrassed he was now being put on display after all.
She smiled.
He rebounded by suggesting, “How about ‘Silent Night’? Do you girls know how to play that song?”
Claudia nodded, turned toward the piano, and played an introduction.
Drawing a deep sigh, David began singing. He barely glanced at his audience. As he sang, his baritone voice grew stronger and more confident, and soared to a high note before he finished the first verse. Deciding that was more than enough, he stopped. Everyone applauded.
“Bravo,” Mr. Montgomery bellowed.
David grinned, feeling his face flush as he sat back down. He glanced at Anna, who beamed at him.
Not to be outdone, Stephen announced, “I brought each of you girls a gift.”
Abigail clapped her hands with delight. He withdrew several packages from under the tree.
“Abigail, this is for you. Claudia.” He handed them each a package. “Maggie, here you are,” he said.
Maggie smiled and took the present he handed to her.
“And this, darling Anna, is for you.” He gave her a small box wrapped with a bright red bow.
She smiled at him. “Why, thank you, Stephen,” she replied.
David glowered. Stephen’s display of affection repulsed him.
Tearing into her package, Abigail exclaimed, “It’s a stereograph!” She positioned one of the thick cardboard photographs in front of the lens and held it to her face.
“I have one too,” squealed Claudia.
They exchanged pictures.
David glanced at Patrick, who rolled his eyes. “‘Tis all for show,” he whispered loudly.
Mrs. Montgomery glared at him.
Maggie opened her gift. “Oh, it’s a journal. I’ll so enjoy writing in this.” She glanced at David, who raised an eyebrow at her. He wondered if he would be her topic.
Anna opened her gift. She stared into the little box cupped in her hand. “Stephen, I don’t know what to say,” she said quietly.
“It was my grandmother’s,” he explained. Walking over to her, he pulled a dainty gold necklace from the box and placed it around her neck.
David watched silently, his blood reaching its boiling point. He forced himself to remain silent and tightly clutched onto the arms of the chair to help him contain his anger. Anna’s actions confused him. After describing Stephen’s story, why was she being so receptive to him? David hoped she was putting on a performance for the Montgomery’s, but he wished she would turn her attention to him, instead, and repel Stephen’s revolting advances.
“I have something for you as well,” Anna told Stephen. She knelt beneath the tree, pulled a package out from under it, stood, and handed it to him.
He grinned and glanced around at the spectators before opening it. Staring at the contents, he hesitated for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Oh, darling, how did you know?” He pulled the contents from the box, revealing a pair of trousers. Holding them up, everyone took notice of how large they were. “I must admit,” he said, “I have put on some weight.”
David and Patrick looked at each other and grinned, recalling how Anna had told them Stephen had gotten too big for his britches. She had obviously taken it upon herself to make him a bigger pair.
“By the way, Mrs. Andrews,” Stephen said as he placed his gift on the sofa cushion, “my condolences on the loss of your cousin.”
Sarah glanced at Grace before looking back at Stephen. “Why, whatever are you talking about? I didn’t lose a cousin,” she replied.
David’s eyes grew wide.
Stephen turned to glare at him. “I thought you said it was Anna’s mother who you were related to.” He reached down toward his sidearm, the formidable revelation impending.
Anna hurried over to stand in front of David. “Is that what he told you?” She forced a laugh. “Well, it’s as I explained, Stephen. We haven’t seen each other since we were children, and I’m sure he’s forgotten, that’s all.”
“Why, yes,” Sarah said, coming to the aid of her niece. “He’s just confused. After all, he’s been through so much lately, what with the loss of his father, the journey here, and all the responsibility that has been placed upon him.”
David glanced at Patrick, who wore an amused grin on his face.
“The poor thing,” said Mrs. Montgomery. “How terrible it must be for you.”
“Yes, um, ma’am,” David responded. Stephen was still staring at him. To his relief, he had moved his hand away from his holster.
Anna glanced down at David. She noticed his stark white face. “My dear cousin is still reeling from grief.”
“Well, we should be leaving, my dears,” Mr. Montgomery said as he gazed up at the mantle clock. “It is nearly eleven, and we must all be tucked in before midnight!”
He pulled himself up. The Montgomery’s followed his lead and made their way toward the front door. Stephen glared at David. He turned toward Anna and took her hands in his.
“Thank you, my love, for the gift, and for this enchanting evening.”
“You’re welcome, Stephen,” she replied, gently withdrawing her hands from his.
“Gentlemen,” Stephen said to Patrick and David, donning his kepi. “I hope to see you again in the next few days before I return to Washington.”
“Stephen,” Patrick acknowledged, puffing merrily on his pipe.
The ladies escorted their guests outside.
“It has been so wonderful to see you again, my dear,” Stephen said to Anna. “This reminds me of when we were children, and our families spent the holidays together. I know I’ve been away recently, but I hope we can resume our close relationship once again.”
“Yes, Stephen,” she said. “We’ll reunite soon.”
David glanced outside to see Stephen climb aboard the Montgomery’s sleigh. Finally, the sound of chinking bells drifted off into the distance. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Patrick chuckled. “Well, ye did fine under the circumstances, lad.” He patted David on the back.
“I reckon I’ll retire,” David weakly stated. Two traumatic Christmas Eves in a row had left him exhausted. He bid everyone goodnight and started toward the stairs.
“You two had better get to bed as well,” Grace told Claudia and Abigail, “or you won’t be asleep by the time Santa arrives.”
The girls smiled widely at each other. They rushed past David and bounded up the stairs as fast as their little legs could carry them. Once upstairs, he heard them scurry around inside their room. Soon, they appeared at his door with a book.
“Will you read to us?” Abigail asked.
“Of course, I will,” he replied with a smile.
He finished lighting his fireplace, led them back to their room, and tucked them in. Sitting on the edge of Abigail’s bed, he read the cover.
“A Visit from Santa Claus.” He opened the book and read, “‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirrin’, not even a mouse.” Glancing at the girls, their eyes large and full of wonder, he continued reading until he reached the end of the poem. “…But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight. The end.” Closing the book, he stood and set it on the dresser. “Goodnight, girls.” He turned down the lamp.
“Goodnight, David,” Claudia responded.
“Goodnight, cousin.” Abigail giggled.
He closed the door and turned. Startled to see Anna standing in the hallway, he nearly jumped.
“That was lovely,” she said, smiling.
He grinned.
“You’d better go to bed now too, if you want a visit from Santa Claus.”
David chuckled. They stood there, smiling at each other, neither one knowing what to say next.
“Well, goodnight.” She started toward the staircase, but turned back to face him. “By the way, you were wonderful tonight. Stephen doesn’t suspect a thing.” She softly snickered and descended the steps.
His head began to spin from the whiskey taking hold. He went into his bedroom and closed the door. Dropping down onto the bed without bothering to remove his boots, he fell asleep within seconds.
The little girls were up before dawn, pounding on doors, rousing everyone awake, and gleefully yelling “Merry Christmas!”
David groggily sat up. He heard Maggie’s voice on the other side of the door.
“Where’s the fire?” she asked.
“There’s no fire. Santa’s been here,” squeaked Claudia.
He heard Anna say something and pulled himself out of bed. The group had already gone downstairs, so he followed after them and entered the parlor. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he saw Sarah lighting a fire.
“What time is it?” he yawned.
“Fifteen minutes past five,” said Grace. She tightened her robe around herself. “Oh! It looks as though Santa has been here, all right.”
The girls ran to the fireplace, yanked down their stockings, and dumped the contents out onto the rug, gasping at the sight of their bounty. Each one had received two peppermints, a gold coin, and a licorice.
Maggie had already started distributing gifts from under the tree. She called out the name on each package while Claudia and Abigail took turns delivering them to their recipients. Handing her aunt the last remaining present, she seated herself beside the fireplace. Everyone began opening gifts.
With a smile on his face, David watched the sisters, Grace, and Claudia exchange gifts with each other.
“Go on, David. Open yours,” Sarah coaxed him.
He drew the boxes toward him and eagerly tore into them. A package from Maggie and Abigail contained new boots. Amazed, he humbly thanked them. Another gift contained everyday clothes Sarah had sewn for him, and still another held a new pair of calf-skin gloves from Claudia and her mother. Anna gave him a book and several pair of socks.
She opened his gift. David held his breath, hoping she would be impressed by his handiwork. He had specially crafted for her a comb and hand-held looking glass made of Cherrywood with intricately carved angels on them.
“Oh, David,” she gasped. “I don’t know what to say.”
He didn’t either, so he nervously waited for her to continue.
“They’re absolutely breathtaking!” She dragged the comb through her long blonde hair, gazing at her likeness in the mirror.
David thought he could watch her do that for hours on end and smiled at his accomplishment. He had managed to impress her. His heart soared.
“Oh, it’s lovely.” Sarah smiled. She held up the broach he’d carved for her. Tiny birds adorned the front of it.
“Glad you like it, Miss Sarah,” he replied with a shy grin.
He gave a similar one to Grace. Abigail and Claudia opened their gifts from him: miniature carousels with interchangeable animals. They happily thanked him and traded animals, seeing if one would fit into the other’s carousel.
Maggie opened the gift he had created for her to reveal a three-dimensional wooden carving of a girl sitting in a chair with a cat curled around her feet. “It’s a girl with a cat,” she flatly remarked.
“It’s beautiful,” Anna breathed, smiling at him.
He grinned back at her.
Maggie turned the wooden carving in her hands for a moment. Glaring at David, she threw it into the fire.
Sarah gasped.
David watched in shock. His jaw dropped in disbelief, and his eyes grew wide. The carving he had spent hours on, created especially for her, was quickly consumed by flames.
“Maggie, how could you?” Anna scolded.
He gaped at her, stunned. Maggie glared back at him. Coming to his senses, he scowled and jumped to his feet. Hurt and anger flared up inside him.
“Pardon me, ladies,” he said, quickly walking toward the kitchen.
He heard Anna holler at her sister. The screen door slammed behind him. Dawn was just beginning to illuminate the yard. Anxious to distance himself, he sprinted toward the barn.
“David,” Anna yelled as she ran after him. “David, wait!”
She screamed. He turned to see she had fallen onto the cold, snow-covered ground. His heart lurched.
“Anna!”
She started sobbing and grabbed her ankle.
He ran back to her. Without a second thought, he knelt down to comfort her.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
Gently, he picked her up. He noticed how light she was in his arms as he carried her into the house. Returning to the parlor, he carefully set her on the sofa and gazed down at her concernedly. The sight of her in pain tore at his heartstrings so badly it hurt.
“What happened?” Sarah inquired sternly.
“It’s nothing, Aunt Sarah,” Anna replied, wiping away her tears. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Go fetch some ice from the basement,” Sarah said to Maggie, who left the room without a word.
David knelt beside Anna and held her hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “This is all my fault.”
“No,” she sniffed. “No, it isn’t.”
Maggie returned with an ice pack and handed it to her older sister.
“You owe David an enormous apology,” Anna said to her sister.
Maggie scowled at him. “I appreciate that you went to all the trouble,” she stated malevolently, “but I regret nothing.” She turned and stomped upstairs.
“She doesn’t mean it, David,” Anna mewled.
“Yes, she does, Miss Anna,” he forlornly responded. “She despises me, and nothin’s gonna change that, no matter how hard I try.”
He stood and walked toward the kitchen. Deciding he should get on with his chores, he took an extra-long time in doing so.
When he had finished bringing in firewood, Sarah pulled him aside.
“I didn’t have the opportunity to give this to you earlier,” she said and presented him with a book titled Wild Man of the West.
“Thank you kindly, Miss Sarah.”
He went upstairs to his room, threw himself onto the bed, and began reading. Ever since he was a small boy, he had dreamed of going out West into undiscovered Indian Territory. The thought terrified and thrilled him at once. Setting it aside, he picked up the book Anna had given him, Gulliver’s Travels. Just like Gulliver, he felt alone in a strange land, surrounded by people with small minds. For the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, he alternately read and dozed until he was startled awake by a knock on the bedroom door.
“David, lad, are ye in there?”
He pulled himself up to answer it.
“I brought ye some Christmas cheer!” Patrick said with a wide grin as he held up a bottle of whiskey.
David smiled in return. “I reckon it ain’t been too pleasant a day,” he stated as they headed downstairs.
“Aye. Anna informed me of the misfortune. And by the way, she’s feelin’ much better.”
They walked into the kitchen to see the ladies fluttering around in agitation, hurrying to put the Christmas supper together before nightfall. Anna looked up from the white Irish potatoes she was peeling.
“How’s your ankle, Miss Anna?” David asked her.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I put ice on it for a few hours, and now it’s barely swollen.”
He sympathetically smiled at her, wanting to tell her how much it tore him up to see her in pain, but there were too many ears present. Patrick invited David to join him in the dining room. They sat at the table, sharing the whiskey while Abigail and Claudia laid place settings around them. Anna limped in. David sprang to his feet and assisted her into her chair. Sarah and Grace carried in bowls and plates full of food. The aroma was wonderfully enticing. David’s stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten all day. As they gathered around the table, he and Patrick helped the ladies into their seats.
“It all looks delectable, Mrs. Andrews, Mrs. Burrows,” Patrick said, raising his glass. “Here’s to the cooks.”
“Don’t we get partial credit?” Anna asked, her blue-green eyes glittering.
“Of course, me dear,” he replied.
They bowed for grace and recited the Lord’s Prayer in unison.
“God bless us, everyone,” Abigail said.
The family chuckled.
David recognized the line from Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol and thought there wasn’t a need for Mr. Scrooge because they already had Maggie. He glanced over at her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
Plates were passed around. He eagerly took large scoops of dressing, gravy, turkey, oyster sauce, smashed potatoes, candied apples, biscuits, pickles, buttered corn, and string beans. After second helpings came dessert, consisting of coffee, apple bread, fruit cake, and molasses cookies. By the time they were finished, the gathering was so full they could hardly move from their seats. The ladies eventually cleared the table, so Patrick and David went out to tend to the livestock. Once their task was completed, they returned inside. Patrick bid them good evening, stating that Mr. and Mrs. Meyers would return in the morning, and he had their livestock to care for as well.
“Oh, and as me partin’ gift, in return for the lovely supper,” he said, mounting his strawberry roan, “I’ll gladly build ye that shed you’ll be needin’ in a few months.”
“Thank you, Patrick,” Sarah said.
After wishing them a merry Christmas, he waved and rode off, spurring his mare, Erin. Sarah returned inside, followed by Anna, who limped behind her.
“Miss Anna, I could make you a crutch,” David offered, walking alongside her toward the kitchen door.
She smiled at him. “That’s very thoughtful, but I don’t think it will be necessary.”
“Miss Anna,” he repeated.
The tone in his voice stopped her. She looked at him, her arms crossed in front of her to evade the chilly night air.
“I jist want you to know the last thing I intended was to cause a rift between you and your sister.”
“Oh, you haven’t.”
“I feel like I’ve disrupted y’all’s life with my intrusion, and I’m right sorry for that.”
“More than anything, I’m happy you’re here.”
She sweetly smiled at him, tempting him to take her in his arms, but he resisted and allowed her to pass. He glanced up at the full moon.
Reckon it’s a damn sight better than last Christmas after all, he thought to himself, regardless of Maggie’s actions. Because of her, his future in the Brady household seemed very uncertain. Maggie reminded him of a cottonmouth, willing to strike at any moment, but he couldn’t tell just when that would be.
He entered the kitchen.
Anna approached him with a mug. “I told you I’d make you something special.”
She held it out to him. He took the offering and sipped, relishing the flavor. It had been years since he’d tasted real eggnog.
“Thank you kindly, Miss Anna,” he replied, grinning. “This is mighty good.” He sat down at the table with her, and they partook in their holiday spirits.
When they were finished, Anna said, “Come with me.”
She took him by the hand and led him to the parlor. Motioning for him to sit, she collected the large family Bible from a table in the corner and sat down with it in her lap.
“I promised you a prayer last night, but I forgot.”
David gave her a wry grin. “Reckon there was a lot goin’ on.”
She smiled. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I picked out several verses I thought might give you inspiration.” She opened the pages, ran her index finger down the Scripture until she found the right one, and began reading.
“And so it was that while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men.’”
“I’ve heard that one, Miss Anna,” David sighed. “For every Christmas since I was a young’un.”
“Wait, I’m not finished,” she said, flipping to a page she had reserved with a bookmark.
“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” She moved to another place. “Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.” Finding one more verse, she read, “And the Lord, he it is that doth go before thee, he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee, fear not, neither be dismayed.”
David stared at the rug on the floor, overcome with mixed emotions dredged up by the verses Anna had just read to him. It was like she could see into his soul and know what he was experiencing. He had vaguely expressed his sadness to her, but somehow, she understood his loss. For a moment, he was unable to find his voice. “Miss Anna,” he finally said, almost in a whisper. “Thank you for everything.”
Placing the Bible back in its rightful place, she smiled kindly at him. “Merry Christmas, David.”
“Merry Christmas,” he replied and retreated upstairs.
When he awoke in the morning, he went downstairs to find a new issue of Harper’s Weekly on the kitchen table. He sat down and started reading. An editorial caught his eye.
“Even with all the sorrow that hangs, and will forever hang, over so many households; even while war still rages; even while there are serious questions yet to be settled—ought it not to be, and is it not, a merry Christmas?”
He wondered if he would ever experience another Christmas without thinking of his father and Jake. Perhaps, he reasoned, that was how it was supposed to be. Maybe Christmas wasn’t supposed to be merry, but was meant as a time to reminisce, reflect, and remember loved ones, both living and dead. One thing was certain: Christmas for him would never be as it was before the war. He knew it would never be the same again.