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DECEMBER 4, 1891
“We will have a Christmas gathering just like Mr. Fezziwigs!” Maddie proclaimed, clapping her hands with Dickensonian enthusiasm. “We’ll push back the furniture, roll up the rugs and dance like the jovial Mr. Fezziwig did at his own Christmas party. And at the end of the evening there will not be a single Scrooge among us.”
“That is a tall order, Mrs. Reynolds, but I lift my cup to your optimism.” Ely raised his teacup. “I will practice my violin and Lena will play with me. You have been practicing your piano, ja?”
“Practicing, yes. But I’m not as confident as you that I could accompany a musician such as yourself.” Playing for her husband and Jessie, Bart and the twins was one thing. This was quite another.
“Christmas carols, Lena, nothing more. You can do this for the children,” he said.
“That’s not fair, Ely. Using the children to guilt me into performing is not something I would expect from you.” Lena narrowed her eyes at the man grinning like an imp beside her.
“But you will play, ja?”
“I’ll think about it,” Lena conceded. “But I wonder if it’s wise to have a large party now. I mean, Rebecca doesn’t know any of us. Mightn’t she be overwhelmed to meet so many people at one time before she’s settled?”
Maddie looked thoughtful for the briefest of moments before saying, “If we have it on Christmas Eve, shouldn’t they be back before that?”
“I don’t know.” Lena was beginning to think she’d made a terrible mistake by suggesting a party. Neither Maddie nor Jessie were likely to let go of the idea now. She’d just have to keep a close watch on them both and try to persuade them that they could have a happy celebration without inviting half the town.
Maddie looked over at Clara. “Maybe Miss Webster can help you?”
Clara wet her lips, taking a moment to respond. “If you would like for me to, I would be happy to assist you in any way.”
“You see?” Maddie said with a note of triumph. “We can all help, and it will be quietly festive.”
Lena laughed. “When have we ever had a quiet gathering?” A thought occurred to Lena as she took a glance at the display again. “But I may have another project for you, if you are so inclined to use your artistic talents at the ranch.”
“We mustn’t forget the mistletoe!” Jessie gleefully added another item to her growing list. “I know where there’s plenty of it growing up on William’s peak. Bart will gather some for us.”
Lena winced. Reining in Jessie’s enthusiasm was going to be difficult, if not impossible. “I’d like to involve the men as little as possible with our plans. They have work to do around the ranch, and this isn’t as important—”
“Of course, it’s important! Jessie leaped to her feet and scurried to the stove to stir an erupting pot of stew. The children are old enough this year to see that there’s a tree in the house and wonder about it. And there’s Rebecca! We have to make this special for her. I’m surprised at you, Lena. Not important?”
“Well, I didn’t mean to say—”
“And there’s Mr. Kincaid and Clara to think of.” Jessie went on, warming to the topic. “Maddie and I have been talking about those two.”
Oh, no. “What is there to think of Mr. Kincaid and Clara?”
Jessie turned and thrust her hands on her hips. “Lena, you are distracted, aren’t you?”
Lena considered the remark, and yes, she was a little distracted. She’d thought of little else but Rebecca’s arrival, especially since the arrival of Evan’s telegram this morning, stating that he’d spoken with someone who knew where the child was living. But what did Mr. Kincaid and Clara have to do with Christmas plans aside from the woman’s help with decorating? “I’m a little preoccupied, I suppose.”
“Well, it’s understandable, but it’s as plain as the nose on my face that those two are meant for each other. Maddie’s working on her side of things. Now, it’s up to us to work on our side, meaning Graham Kincaid, that handsome Scotsman. It shouldn’t be too hard.” She turned back to her stew and whipped it into quiet submission.
Lena allowed herself a small sigh of resignation. Her two friends were at it again with another attempt at matchmaking. “And what does working our side involve exactly?”
Jessie shot her an incredulous look. “You know. Arranging things. Like asking them to do something together. Maybe they can hunt for the Christmas tree. That sounds romantic.” Her face brightened and a devilish gleam shone from her blue eyes, increasing Lena’s uneasiness. “That might be perfect. Maybe they’ll get lost in a snow storm and—”
“Jessie! What are you thinking? That’s preposterous!” Lena shook her head emphatically. “Just an awful idea.”
“Well, maybe we don’t have to send them out in a storm exactly, but I still think finding and cutting the tree together might be a nice start.”
“I am not favorably disposed to the idea of matchmaking. You and Maddie don’t have a particularly good history. Do I need to remind you?”
“No!” Jessie rubbed her hands along her apron with exceptional vigor. “Sam Decker should have told us he was engaged to someone back East.”
“Why should he have told you that? And, on that subject, do you know if either Clara or Mr. Kincaid are promised to another?”
Jessie’s frown had turned into a stormy scowl. “You’re always taking the wind out of my sails.”
Her comment stung. She didn’t wish to dampen her friend’s enthusiasm, just temper it. Jessie was impetuous, but the same quality made her a joyful presence in Lena’s life. Playful and spontaneous, she was nearly always the cure for any malaise. But Lena’s natural inclination not to meddle in another person’s private life, sometimes made her an obstacle to her friend’s schemes.
“I’m sorry, Jessie. I don’t mean to always be the one to discourage you. But what do we really know about either Clara or Graham? Aside from the fact that they might be unmarried, what do they really have in common?” She had a disturbing thought that would be sure to dampen her friend’s plans, but one Jessie must consider. “Do we know that Mr. Kincaid does not have a wife?”
Jessie frowned. “He’d have told us, wouldn’t he?”
“Would he? Did Mr. Decker?”
Looking deflated, Jessie plopped herself into a chair. “Phooey. I suppose you’re right. We don’t know. I suppose I need to find out.”
“Once we know they are both unmarried, we can certainly provide opportunities for them to learn more about each other.”
Jessie’s reaction, though instantaneous, was not remarkable. Her earlier optimism restored, she sat up. “You think so?”
“Just as long as we restrict our help to gentle nudges.” Lena conceded, but gave her a warning look. “No intentional sabotaging of a buggy wheel.”
“That nearly worked,” Jessie said petulantly. “They had to stay by the side of the road for hours until someone came along. All that time to talk and find out how right they were for each other.”
“Jessie, someone could have been seriously hurt!”
“But they weren’t,” Jessie muttered.
“Why don’t you let me take care of providing the opportunities for them to get to know one another,” Lena said in a voice as firm as she could manage with someone looking at her with such disapproval. “I have some ideas.”
Jessie squinted at her. “Like what?”
“Well, we’re going to need to make some changes to one of the guest rooms for Rebecca. And I was thinking Clara, with her eye for decorating, might be able to help me. It could be fun for her to transform it into a room suitable for a six-year-old girl.”
Jessie opened her mouth, but Lena held up a restraining hand. “And I was thinking that she might need help from Mr. Kincaid. The dressers are too high for a child, as are the bed and chairs.”
“And he’s shown he has some carpentry skills,” Jessie added, her face animating as she comprehended the possibilities. “They’ll have to talk things over and make plans together. That’s perfect! But we don’t have much time. Evan and Rebecca could be home in a week. Isn’t that what he said?”
“Yes. But there’s still the Christmas party. She could help us with that.”
Jessie clapped her hands. “Someone will have to go for the tree. They could harness the draft, the one that’s so barn sour. As soon as they got out of the buggy, that old horse would make a bolt to come back before Mr. Kincaid could stop him. The two of them would—”
“Jessie!”
It was a bit and a pair of reins Lena needed to control Jessie’s enthusiasm for matchmaking.