Page 9 of Christmas Secrets

CHAPTERFOUR

Percival returned to the cottage after unpacking Holly’s belongings, bringing in his own things, and tending to the horses. He also gathered more dry wood that he found stacked in a corner in the barn.

“Mmmm, something smells good,” he remarked, entering the cottage with his arms loaded down with the logs. He held so many that he could barely see over the top of the stack. After using his foot to close the door, he headed over to the hearth, stacking the logs by the fire. “This should be enough to hold us for a while. Plus, there is still more dry wood in the barn to last another day or two. As soon as the storm lets up, I’ll search the woods for more.”

Brushing off his hands, he stood and turned around to get his first look at the table. “What’s this?” he asked, seeing a red piece of cloth covering the old wooden table. There were wooden dishes for the three of them set, filled with food. In the center of the table was a green lit taper candle stuck into the neck of an old dusty bottle. And around the centerpiece were fresh cut juniper boughs and even a few sprigs of holly. The scent of the greens mixed with food filled the air.

“The meal is ready. Sit down and eat.” Holly nodded at the table. “Noel, come join us for some food, please.” She used the iron poker to lift a pot with a wire handle off the fire. She placed it atop a flat stone on the table and used a ladle to scoop out the liquid and place it into the three wooden cups.

Percival removed his cloak and hung it on a hook, hesitant to sit at the table.

“What is that?” he asked, still standing there dumfounded. This table looked much too festive for him. And it only reminded him of his dreaded Christmas memories that he’d been trying so hard to avoid.

“I know what it is!” exclaimed Noel, crawling atop a chair. “Holly made my favorite drink. It’s hot apple cider with cinnamon.”

“She did?” He didn’t quite know what to say.

“It’s just cider warmed up over the fire.” She placed down a cup in front of Noel, and when he got to his knees on the chair eagerly grabbing for it, she stopped him. “Careful, it’s hot,” she told the little boy. “Remember to blow on it first.”

“I will,” said Noel, sliding the cup closer, blowing before it even got near.

“Did he say cinnamon? I don’t remember bringing any spices from the castle,” said Percival, purposely not taking anything with him that would remind him of the holiday.

“Oh, I brought that with me, as well as this red square of cloth that my mother used to cover the table at Christmas. It doubles as a blanket at other times of the year,” Holly told him, placing one cup at his place setting and the other in front of hers. “Cinnamon sticks are something we always have back home, even when it isn’t a holiday.”

“Really,” he said, confused, wondering how a mere commoner would have enjoyed something usually used only by the nobles. “I thought you said you weren’t noble.”

“I’m not.”

“Then how did you get a hold of such an exotic spice?”

“My mother was sometimes paid in food instead of coin for her services.”

“Services?” He started wondering exactly what those services were.

“I’m speaking of her skill. She helped with birthing babies and assisted in healing the ill. She had a real talent with it and was called upon by many for her services. Even the nobles wanted her, once they heard what she could do.”

“Oh, your mother was a midwife,” he said, but she changed the conversation.

Holly sat down, looked at the candle, and smiled. “This candle came from a noble as payment as well. Lord Henry gave it to her when his wife died about six or seven years ago. For some reason, she never burned it.”

“What? Your mother was rewarded at the death of a noblewoman?”

“Oh, nay! Lord Henry had caught the illness from his wife, and my mother was able to heal him. If he had called upon her sooner, she may have been able to save his wife as well, but he waited too long.”

“I see. I figured it was from a noble,” he said, since wax candles were something that only the clergy or nobles would have.

“This table isn’t much, but I intend on making things even more festive around here in the next few days. I want it to feel like a special Christmas.” She looked over at her brother and smiled at him.

“Nay!” grunted Percival.

Her brows dipped. “Nay, what?”

“No more festive anything. I don’t like festivals and I hate holidays and decorations. There’s no need for that kind of nonsense.”

“Not all of us think it’s nonsense. How can you even say that?” she asked. “This is a spirit that accompanies Christmas that warms the hearts of men and lightens everyone’s burdens.”

“Mmph,” he muttered. “Some burdens can never be lightened.”