The group repeated themselves and collectively shook their heads.
“I ‘preciate the offer,” Mr. Green said as the other two men mounted the wagon and prepared to drive it back toward the house, “really, I do. But I has to get back to tha mill. I would like to see that pup afore I go, though. I bet he’s growed so much I won’t know ‘im.”
“Noah’s playing with him on the porch. Go see them if you like.”
Mr. Green replaced his hat, lifting it briefly, and hopped on back of the wagon with his legs dangling off. “Thank ya, Miss Bennet. I will.”
The other men bid her farewell and drove away.
Caroline took a few more steps, then paused and looked back.
Jackson still stood at the grave.
She stayed where she was and waited. After the way he’d barked at her last time, she didn’t dare intrude on a private moment, but neither did she want to leave him completely alone.
A few minutes later, he put his hat back on. He’d taken several steps before the tilt of his head and the angle of his posture said he’d noticed her. His gait faltered, only a single step that she’d almost missed, but it had.
When his pace slowed, and stiffness invaded his spine, Caroline wanted to watch him, to figure out the reason for the change, but she turned and headed for the house. Like last time, he’d probably shed a few tears and was embarrassed to be seen.
December 24th
Jackson stabled his horse and threw the bundle of supplies over his shoulder. He couldn’t afford to be extravagant, but he’d bought a few things to make the children’s Christmas memorable.
He stomped the snow from his boots on the porch and walked into a wall of warm air that was heavily scented with pine.What in the… It looked as if a fir tree had exploded. Evergreen boughs adorned with holly berries and sagebrush had been hung above the doorways, and more were affixed to the banister.
Caroline lifted her head from the book she was reading in the parlor. “We did a little decorating while you were gone.”
“I see.”
“I left your supper warming on the stove.”
He set the bundle on the dry sink. “Where are the children?”
“They’re upstairs, reading picture books to Ranger. And don’t laugh. He’s enjoying it.”
Jackson untied the string and took out the foodstuffs, then tied the bundle closed again and stashed it in the washroom. “Could you get them ready for bed? I need to check on the animals.”
“They’re already in their nightclothes. Why don’t you go up and say goodnight?”
Jackson stared at the ceiling, debating. He wanted to make the most of his time with Noah and Jewel, but if he went, they would waylay him and beg him to tell them stories.
“Go,” Caroline said. “If you haven’t come back down in five minutes, I’ll rescue you.”
She was ready to make good on her word, but Jackson trotted back down the stairs before time was up.
“I’ll be a while,” he said as he lit a lantern. “It takes longer, doing evening chores in the dark.” A gust of icy wind rushed in as he went out, making her shiver.
She put another log on the fire and made a pot of tea. By the time the leaves had steeped, the house had gone quiet. The only noises were the crackle of the fire and the wind howling through the cracks. It was going to be a frigid night. Too cold for Jackson to sleep in the barn.
Caroline went upstairs and tucked quilts around the sleeping children, and one very lucky dog, then returned with another quilt, a pillow, and some blankets. She made a pallet on the floor by the fire. If Jackson didn’t want to sleep there, she’d take it and give him back his bed.
She was about to put her coat on and check on his wellbeing when she heard bootsteps.
He entered amid a flurry of snowflakes and pushed the door closed. “A foot of snow has already fallen, and it’s not stopping,” he said as he dropped the bar. “It’s going to be a white Christmas.”
That would keep him inside.
She set his plate on the table, then brought the tea tray over and joined him. “I guess that means the roads will be impassable.”
