Home for Christmas by Miriam LeBlanc

Author:Miriam LeBlanc
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Plough Publishing House
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE CENTRAL ROOM of the old adobe ranch house was warm and cheerful in the light of two kerosene lamps and a fire in the huge stone fireplace. Three straw mattresses and a pile of blankets from the bunkhouse were ranged on the floor along the wall. A fair-sized iron kettle and a wide flat pan and a big coffeepot sat on the raised hearth. One whole front corner of the room was filled with fragrant piñon firewood.

Monte Walsh sat in the mouse-chewed remnants of armchair on one side of the fireplace, working on his seventh biscuit, his third cup of coffee, his second bowl of the Sunfish specialty – stewed beef swimming in a sauce of mashed beans. Sunfish Perkins himself sat in the old rocker on the other side of the fireplace, watching with considerable interest the activity near the closed front door. There, well away from the fire, the meager body of José Gonzales, stripped naked, lay on the floor. His worn clothing, patched long underwear and ragged jeans and shirt and thin coat, was draped over a ladder-back chair before the fire. His half-full bag sagged against the front wall by the door. Beside him knelt Chet Rollins, rubbing his bare arms and legs with melting snow from a nearby pail.

“Gosh,” said Sunfish. “There ain’t much of him, is there?”

“Not exactly in your overweight class,” said Monte. “But there’s enough of him to have more’n any of us’s got – a wife and two kids.”

“And a sister,” said Sunfish. “Dobe’d never let you forget that.”

José moaned and kicked feebly with one foot. “Go ahead, kick,” said Chet. “I know it hurts like hell thawing out.”

“And he eats prodigious,” said Monte. “Looks like we got another boarder till this thing lets up.”

“I ain’t hauling in no other mattress,” said Sunfish. “He can have yours. We’ll just take you up on that talk about Cal’s bed. You’ll freeze your gizzard in that little room with no fire, but you’ll freeze fancy.”

José’s head raised a bit and thumped back on the floor, and he began to thrash about in aimless motion. “Well, well,” said Chet. “So you’re wiggling all of them now.” He picked up a piece of toweling and began rubbing with it.

“Shucks, Chet,” said Monte, ambling over. “You got to eat too. I’ll wrassle with him some.”

Sunfish heaved to his feet and began to serve up stew and biscuits and coffee. “What’s he got in that bag?” he said.

“A little food,” said Chet, settling into the armchair to start on his first bowl of the Sunfish special. “A few things for the kids.”

“It ain’t much,” said Monte suddenly, sharply, looking up from his rubbing. The other two stared at him. “Aw, shucks,” he said, returning to work. “Tomorrow’s Christmas, ain’t it?”

Silence in the big old room.

“It’s sure doing things outside,” said Sunfish. “Must have been four inches already when you came in. Maybe it’ll be like that one two years ago.”

“Colder,” said Chet. “That ought to mean less snow.

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