Beatrix giggled at the crooked star swaying atop the Christmas tree. “Leave it the way it is,” she ordered. “This angle is jaunty.”
“Your decision,” Colton replied from his perch on the stool.
Beatrix narrowed her gaze. Her husband didn’t behave as though he wanted her to leave. For the past four weeks, he’d been perfectly solicitous. He’d helped her with chores, and he’d assisted her with dinner each night.
The previous afternoon, he’d insisted they find a Christmas tree and supervised every stage of the decorating. The house fairly overflowed with evergreen boughs. They were wrapped around every balustrade and beam.
Even Joseph was cooperating. He was sleeping through the night and took regular naps during the day. With her schedule mostly free, Beatrix baked up a storm in anticipation of her surprise. She’d used the money from her father and purchased train tickets for Colton’s grandparents. They were set to arrive late this afternoon. She’d timed their arrival before Christmas Eve as a gift to Colton. She wanted him to spend the holiday with his family, with the people he loved. She wanted to see him happy.
No matter what happened, she certainly wasn’t leaving. Cowboy Creek was her home now. Considering the change in Colton’s attitude these past weeks, she kept hold of a thin thread of hope that he wanted her to stay. Even the sorrow in his eyes had abated somewhat.
Her trips to town had improved, as well. After Will Canfield had spoken to Mr. Booker, Eugene had ceased taunting her, and the Schuyler boys were too busy working with their father to bother her. Even with everything that had happened, the majority of the people in Cowboy Creek had been kinder to her in her time of need than her own family.
She had friends here. Leah, Tomasina, Marlys and many more. This was where she wanted to raise Joseph. She wasn’t giving up on Colton. Not yet. Not when she’d finally discovered the true meaning of love.
The day was clear and bright, and she had a few more supplies she needed in anticipation of the arrival of her guests. Her heart light, she glanced out the frost-covered window panes.
“I’m going to Booker & Son,” she said. “Would you like to come along?”
“Yes,” he replied easily. “I need some things, too.”
Colton jumped from his perch on the stool and examined the Christmas tree. “I think this is the finest tree in town.”
“I agree.”
After she’d gotten ready and bundled Joseph, Colton paused by the door. “I can hitch the wagon.”
“There’s no need. It’s only a few blocks, and I don’t have many purchases. Joseph is bundled, as well.”
“I’ll carry him.”
Beatrix handed over the baby, and Colton tugged back the blankets with his index finger. At nearly three months old, Joseph’s face had filled out. Some of his hair had thinned, and he had a perfectly ridiculous hairline.
Colton clearly adored the baby, and hope flared in her chest. From that very first day she’d met him she’d known that something was troubling her husband. Something he’d buried deep inside himself. Perhaps if he shared his burden, there could be a future between them. Until then, she could only wait and hope.
Feeling optimistic, she tugged her fur-lined mittens over her wrists.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
Her cheeks pinkened. “I look the same as I do every day.”
“You look beautiful every day. I like the dresses you’ve bought from Hannah’s store.” Today she wore a wool plaid dress in shades of emerald and pale green. “The color suits you.”
Her color deepened. “Thank you.”
At his words, her optimism grew. Together they walked the distance to Booker & Son. Colton kept Joseph tucked against his side, with his other arm wrapped around Beatrix’s waist. She didn’t protest.
Inside the mercantile, she took the baby once more. Joseph delighted in all the sights and sounds of the busy store, and customers stopped her every few feet to exclaim over him. They quickly accomplished their task. Brimming with obvious pride in his family, Colton gathered her purchases. Another sign he was growing to care for them.
He held open the door for her, and she stepped onto the boardwalk. Something slammed into the side of her head. She shrieked and stumbled back. Colton rushed forward and caught her against his chest.
Joseph squalled, and she frantically peeled back the layers of blankets. Snow peppered his hair, but the infant was more angry than hurt. Beatrix touched the side of her face. She’d been struck by a snowball.
Colton gathered them back into the store. The customers who’d seen the prank gathered around them, murmuring their concern.
Beatrix swiped at her face. “It was nothing. A snowball.”
“This ends today,” Colton declared, his voice ominously low.
A chill rippled over her. “We’re fine.”
The door burst open, and Mr. Schuyler stomped inside, his hand wrapped around Eric’s upper arm.
Mr. Schuyler caught sight of them and shoved the boy forward. “You’ll apologize. Now.”
Eric shrugged from his father’s hold and mumbled an insincere apology.
His father’s face suffused with color. “She was holding the baby.”
Eric blanched. “I didn’t see.”
Colton kept a protective arm around Beatrix and the baby. “I need to speak with you, Mr. Schuyler. But not here. Meet me at our house in twenty minutes. Bring Eric and Dirk, as well.”
The normally brash man meekly nodded. “We’ll be there.”
Uncertain of her husband’s mood, Beatrix was quiet on their return trip home.
Once inside, he caught both her shoulders. “Are you certain neither you nor Joseph was hurt?”
“I’m certain.”
His shoulders slumped in relief. “Good.”
She wrapped a new blanket around Joseph and placed him in his wicker bassinet in the parlor. Colton tenderly dried her face and brushed the snow from her hair.
When he’d finished, he sat down beside her at the kitchen table. “I need to tell you something before the Schuylers arrive. I love you.”
“I—”
He touched her lips, silencing her. “You have to hear the rest before you say anything. I need to tell the Schuylers a story, a story that may change the way you feel about me. But I want you to know something. I want you to know that I am going to fight for us. I love you, and I love Joseph, and I’m going to fight for the happiness of our family every day of my life. Please, remember that after you hear what I have to say.”
Her heart thumped against her ribs. This was the day she’d waited for, prayed for. She’d finally learn what caused the sorrow behind his eyes.
He retrieved a sheaf of papers. “This is your Christmas present. I wrote something for the time capsule.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did. You were right. Writing down the story of the past was lifting a burden. And now there’s another burden I need to lift.”
Reverently accepting the papers, Beatrix said, “Thank you.”
He’d given her the gift of his past, now she needed the promise of their future.
She sensed something in him had shifted, and marveled at the change. Moments later, the Schuyler boys, along with their father, sat around her kitchen table.
Mr. Schuyler pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m as much to blame as the boys. I didn’t want them to be bullied, so I made sure they knew how to defend themselves. But I focused so much on making sure they were strong, that I never took the time to teach them how to use that strength. There’ll be some changes around our house, I can promise you that.”
Colton rested his forearms on the table and fisted his hands. “I want to tell you a story.”
All eyes turned toward him.
As Colton told the tale of his brother, Beatrix’s eyes misted over. When he finished, she cupped her fingers over his clenched hands. He met her gaze, and something changed between them. An understanding.
“You’re young,” Colton said, his eyes fixed on the boys once more. “But the choices you make have consequences. You have your whole lives ahead of you. Someday you may do something you can’t take back, and you’ll have to live with that burden. I’m asking you to make some changes now, before it’s too late. I promise you this, if you ever target Beatrix again, things will not turn out well for you.”
Dirk pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m real sorry, Mrs. Werner. I’m real sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have called you that name. I shouldn’t have wrecked your cake or hit you with a snowball. I didn’t know you were holding the baby.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Eric added, his face suffused with color. “The stuff seemed harmless. Eugene gave us the idea to hit her with a snowball.”
Mr. Schuyler fisted his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat. “I’ll speak with Eugene’s father. He needs to be apprised of the situation.”
The mood somber, the three of them filed out, leaving Beatrix alone with Colton.
“Now you know,” he said. “Now you know who I really am.”