The Runaway by Cindi Myers

Author:Cindi Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cindi Myers
Published: 2014-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

**

Caroline didn’t tell Cam or Uncle Bill about Admiral Jennings’ visit. Men were so unpredictable – they were liable to get into an argument with the Admiral, and why make trouble? Besides, Christmas was coming, a time when everyone ought to be at peace, if only for a little while. What’s more, Cam had said nothing about leaving now that the baby was born. For a little while longer, at least through the holidays, she dared hope he meant to stay.

“Christmas is my favorite time of year,” she told Estelle as the two of them assembled the fixings for a holiday dinner. Estelle had borrowed a copy of Mrs. Hathaway’s Essential Compendium of Remedies and Receipts and they had consulted it for recipes for pumpkin and nut pies, oyster stuffing and baked sweet potatoes. Uncle Bill had contributed a turkey, so they had everything they needed for a celebration.

“Why is that?” Estelle asked, turning pages in Mrs. Hathaway’s Compendium.

“Daddy always cut a tree and brought it into the house for us to decorate, and on Christmas morning, my stocking would always have an orange and hard candy and some store-bought presents. One year, I got a china doll, with eyes that opened and closed. And another year, I got a real rabbit-fur muff.” She smiled, remembering her delight in those gifts, and the pleased look in her father’s eye when she’d opened them. She tried to ignore the sharp pain that came with the memories, the knowledge that this year, she and her father would not be celebrating together. Cam had sent a telegram to him, announcing the baby’s birth, but he hadn’t seen fit to reply, which must mean he was still angry with her.

“I can’t say as I ever looked forward to Christmas much.” Estelle frowned at a page of the cookbook. “Now what do you suppose they mean when they say to fold the egg yolks into the mixture? How do you fold anything as runny as a raw egg?”

“I think you just sort of stir it in,” Caroline said. “Now why didn’t you look forward to Christmas?”

“When I was little, we never had enough money for a celebration and when I was older, I didn’t have anybody to celebrate with.” She set the cookbook aside and cracked an egg into a bowl.

Though Estelle spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, the sadness of her words touched Caroline. “This year, you have us to celebrate with,” she said.

Estelle nodded. “And I’m grateful for that.” She looked over to the cradle by the stove, where little Peter lay sleeping. “Nothing like a baby to put you in the real Christmas spirit.”

Caroline smiled. Estelle was right. How could she be gloomy when she had a new baby and Cam to share the holidays with?

The door blew open and Cam and Uncle Bill rushed in, each carrying an armload of firewood. “Norther blowin’ in,” Uncle Bill said, dumping his burden in the wood box and warming his hands at the stove.

“Do you think it will snow for Christmas?” Caroline asked.

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