A Patchwork Family by Charlotte Hubbard

Author:Charlotte Hubbard
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428517288
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Chapter Seventeen

Mercy awoke and sat straight up. Had she left a candle burning in the front room, too close to the tree? Had the wind blown down the chimney, to send that heavy aroma of half-burned buffalo chips into the house? She threw aside the curtain that closed off their little room and stumbled toward the kitchen.

“Don’tcha be bargin’ in here, now!” a boyish voice ordered. Billy blocked the doorway, his eyes sparkling with a challenge. “Me ’n’ Asa’re cookin’ up your Christmas presents! Now be a good little girl and git back in bed, or Santa won’t come for nobody. You don’t want him to leave a big ole lump of buffalo dung in your stockin’, do ya?”

A wild giggle bubbled up inside her. Mercy clapped her hand over her mouth, shaking with the night’s chill and sheer childlike joy. The change in Billy was a Christmas miracle, and as she sent her thanks to that baby in the manger, she vowed to see that the Santa with the chocolate skin and heart of gold knew she appreciated him, too.

She slipped back into bed, straining to hear those secretive sounds above Judd’s deep, even breathing. Billy and Asa were as quiet as midnight snowfall in there: an occasional rattle of a pan . . . stealthy footsteps, and then whispering in the front room over by the fireplace . . . the muffled clatter of—plates and silverware being set out? She certainly recognized that sound, but why—?

The scents of warm sugar and cinnamon drifted from the kitchen. Bacon sizzled and popped. And then everything got very, very quiet.

Sheer curiosity had her wiggling out of Judd’s embrace. By the light of her bedside candle, Mercy slipped into the red calico dress she’d kept clean for today, and tied her hair back with a twisted length of red and green ribbon.

Footsteps above told her Aunt Agatha was awake, and when she stepped out into the front room, Nathaniel was lighting the lamps. He’d gotten the fire going, and the flames crackled happily in greeting.

“Merry Christmas, missus,” the burly hand said with a big grin. “Hope you don’t mind us three cookin’ up a little magic so early this mornin’.”

“The look on Billy’s face has already been my favorite gift, Nathaniel. Merry Christmas! And thank you so much for helping our boy.”

And here he came, grinning broadly over a platter of bacon and ham, which he placed in the center of the table they’d set. She opened her arms and he rushed into them. It was an embrace to savor, even though she suspected he had his mama in mind as he clung to her.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she whispered. When she opened her eyes, she found they were being watched by the two who’d slipped downstairs. “And Merry Christmas, Christine and Aunt Agatha! We’re so glad you’re here to celebrate with us.”

Asa set a large plate of raisin biscuits beside the meat platter, while Nathaniel brought out a bowl of stewed apples spicy with cinnamon, and a pitcher of steaming mulled cider.

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