A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas (15 page)

First arriving were the parson and his wife, with Amelia Clark. With its swirl of skirts and short train, Amelia’s gown would have fit in at a fancy ball in the East. Both women carried baskets.

“Cookies,” Amelia said, extending the basket toward Emily.

“Thank you, very much.” She couldn’t read the woman’s expression. Emily carried the cookies to the kitchen table, where Mother had spread a lace tablecloth. Already, half the table was covered with delectable treats.

“Your family has a cozy home.” Amelia scanned the room.

“Thank you.” She loved every nook and cranny of the sprawling home. Not as fancy as what one might find in the East, but here in Jackson, the place fit in perfectly.

“Well, I suppose you know, so far, you’ve won.”

“Won?”

Emily glanced toward the parlor, where Mother and the parson and his wife chatted. Pa and Sam should be in soon, along with John and his wife.

“Will’s affections.”

“I wasn’t competing, but hoping.”

“Oh, but we
were
competing—
are
competing. I knew the moment I stepped into Will’s office, my first day here.”

Emily squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Miss Clark, you’ve always had the advantage. I only knew Billy Adams, the boy. I’ve not had long to get to know William Adams, the man. You’ve known him far longer. You won his heart first.”

Amelia smiled. “Yes, I know.”

Lord, this woman bears a load of hurt, and I don’t blame her. I’d likely feel the same way, were I in the same position. But would I use the same words she has?

She wanted to weigh her words carefully. No, she wasn’t backing down from her claim to Will’s heart, but she didn’t want to ignore Amelia’s pain. The young woman had traveled more than a thousand miles to follow her heart, only to learn her love wasn’t returned. At least, not in the way she’d hoped.

“I’m sorry you’ve come all this way, only to be disappointed.”

“Not disappointed. You may have won this round, but I still intend to stay and try to change his mind. I thought you ought to know that, too.”

Emily nodded, reminding herself she was also a hostess this evening. “I understand. I think your attempts will be futile. This country isn’t kind in the winter, so you should think very hard about getting over the pass as soon as possible. In the meantime, may I offer you a cup of tea?”

“That would be lovely.” Amelia smiled as someone knocked on the front door.

“I’ll have your tea prepared in a moment. Sugar?”

“Of course. And cream, if you have any.”

“We do.” Emily stepped toward the stove, while Amelia glided from the kitchen.

Her hands shook as she poured the tea. She’d encountered all sorts of wildlife in Wyoming, but nothing like this determined, spurned young woman in a silk dress.

Voices from the front room told her the rest of their guests had arrived. This was how her family loved to celebrate, with a houseful of neighbors and friends.

“A Christmas Eve service isn’t quite enough for me,” Mother liked to say during this time of year.

“Hello.” Will entered the kitchen. He carried a jug. “Pressed cider. It’s my offering for tonight’s celebration.”

“Thank you. I’ll get it warming on the stove.” She smiled at Will, even as Amelia appeared in the doorway behind him.

“Oh, William,” Amelia called out. “I’d love to play the piano for you. Mrs. Covington said I may use theirs. What song would you like for me to begin with?”

He turned to face her. “Why, thank you, Amelia. ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem,’ if you please.”

“I’ll join you soon, Will.” Emily picked up the teacup for Amelia. “Amelia, I have your tea prepared.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Covington. If you could set it on the table, I’ll fetch it after I’ve played the first song.” Amelia marched to the parlor.

Will shook his head. “Emily …”

Emily shrugged and smiled. “It’s all right. I’m going to help set out the food when people arrive.”

He stepped closer. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you as well.”

Mother bustled past Will as she entered the kitchen. “Here’s another plate. Some Swedish cookies from the Olsens.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Will gave her another smile before heading into the parlor. Mother glanced at him as he did so.

After he left, Mother joined Emily at the stove. “You’re doing well, my dear. Amelia is fit to be tied, but I’ll let her play the piano tonight.” The first few notes, the introduction to “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” drifted into the kitchen.

“Oh, Mother, it’s not easy.”

“I know.” Mother looked toward the parlor. “Come, join us in the music. Pa and Sam are coming soon. So is Sheriff Daniels.”

Mother always seemed to know how to make things feel right again. When Emily entered the parlor, she wanted to stand near Will. However, he stood in the corner near the piano, and others had clustered around him.

Amelia ran her fingers over the keys, coaxing a melody from the piano in ways Emily hadn’t ever managed. Her own fumbling piano skills could plunk out songs. Amelia, however, had the graces from far more practice.

She would be a far more fitting woman to marry a lawyer than Emily. However, Amelia wasn’t the one Will smiled at across the room.

Will missed home tonight, although Wyoming was home. But listening to the piano music, he recalled times that weren’t so wild, or tough, as what he faced now. He smiled as he scanned the Covingtons’ parlor. The simple, rustic elegance of the ranch home didn’t compare to the refinement he’d seen in certain circles back East. Yet, the Covingtons’ home was a far cry from the typical homesteader’s place. Zebulon Covington had looked toward the future, to a time like now when Jackson was ever changing.

For now, though, all Will had was two rooms, one to sleep in and one to use as an office. He had nothing but had turned his back on a sure future with Amelia’s father’s firm.

Tonight, even though he missed the Christmases he’d always known, this Christmas he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He could only imagine what Amelia had been saying to Emily, and unfortunately, he hadn’t had the opportunity to speak more with Emily and assuage her fears. He knew how Amelia could be, and truthfully, in spite of her fancy frocks, she didn’t always treat people in a pretty manner.

He hadn’t realized it until lately. And despite his telling her he wouldn’t renew their engagement, Amelia stubbornly chose to remain in Jackson. News had it that the pass would soon be impassable. And Amelia wouldn’t be able to leave until spring.

The thoughts traveled through his brain one by one during the song, and when the final notes ended, he moved a few steps from the piano and closer toward Emily. The others let him through, the parson and his wife, John and his wife, the Olsens, and then Zebulon and Belle Covington.

Sam shot him a knowing grin when he stopped beside Emily.

Then Sheriff Daniels requested “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” and Will joined in with the next song.

Emily sang a few phrases, and he didn’t cringe. But she couldn’t find the melody. The sound was endearing to his ears, and the more he stared at her, the redder her face grew.

The chorus ended, and Mrs. Covington stepped to the piano where Will had stood moments ago.

“We’ll take a break now, and there’s coffee, tea, and pressed apple cider in the kitchen, along with the delightful treats you’ve brought and we’ve prepared.”

The group filled the kitchen, and Will kept Emily by his side as long as he could. She only left to help her mother serve coffee and the warm cider, while he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She wore the skirt and shirtwaist she’d worn the evening of the town meeting, and although he still wasn’t accustomed to seeing her in a more formal attire, he could get used to it. But he’d never press her.

As they stood, sipping the apple cider and discussing the weather prospects for Christmas week, a pounding sounded on the front door.

“I’ll see to that,” Zebulon said and left the kitchen. The door creaked open, and a high-pitched voice spoke. Will couldn’t make out the words, so he moved to follow Zebulon.

“What’s wrong?” Emily whispered to him.

“I’m not sure.” He nodded toward the parlor. “Let’s find out.”

“… haven’t seen or heard from them since they left for town this morning,” the man was saying. “Oh, Sheriff, you’re here. Good.”

He was bundled head to toe, topped with a hat, a scarf around his neck, snowshoes clamped to his boots.

“I haven’t seen anyone happen by here today, but then, my boys and I were working.” Zebulon glanced at Will and Emily. “We can gather our sleighs and lanterns and help you look.”

“Ah, but you’re having a Christmas gathering.” The man’s shoulders sank.

“We’d rather help tonight,” Zebulon said.

“Agreed,” Sheriff said. “I’ll head back toward town and round up a few more people.”

“We can help, too,” Will added. He glanced at Emily.

“I can get the dogsled ready inside ten minutes.” She nodded.

Zebulon put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We’ll gather and pray then head out to find them. Come, get something warm to drink, and have a snack before you leave.”

Will and Emily followed the pair into the kitchen, where the others exclaimed over the man’s arrival.

“It’s my brother, his wife, and their baby. They went to town today and never came home.”

Bernard and Patience Willoughby, along with baby Edward, had gone to the mercantile to collect mail, shop, and go to the bank in town. They were supposed to return by suppertime, Edgar Willoughby explained, but he had heard nothing from them.

“I want to help,” Will told Zebulon. “Other people went looking for me, so I want to do the same for someone else.”

“I want to go, too.” Amelia set her cup on the counter.

Nobody told her no, although Emily opened her mouth then closed it again.

Will hoped Amelia would be an asset in the search. Then again, maybe this was just the thing to make her realize what living in the West truly meant.

E
mily ended up lending Amelia a pair of her trousers to exchange for the long skirt, and Mother lent Amelia her old outdoor coat, a thick fur coat that, while very old, was still very warm.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ride on a dogsled.” Amelia didn’t complain about her humble clothing but stood in the yard while they all prepared to head out to search for the Willoughbys. Sam and Sven Olsen were already heading down the trail toward town to retrace the missing family’s steps. Pa and Will would travel together in the sleigh, but Amelia, for some reason, insisted on riding with Emily.

And I can’t believe I’m letting you
. Emily said nothing aloud as she fastened harnesses on the dogs, who hopped and bounced.

Even though they’d had a good run through the hills yesterday, tonight they were ready to head out under the full moon.

“We’re going to travel where most don’t,” Emily said. “In case one of them wandered off on foot, for some reason.”

It was becoming more difficult to get lost, the more settled Jackson’s Hole became. However, it wasn’t impossible. Unless they met with an accident of some kind and were hurt.

“Go no farther than an area you know,” Pa said. “Hopefully we’ll find them tonight on one of the trails out of town, but if not, we head home and then try again in the morning, with a larger group.” The parson and his wife had already set out, along with Sheriff Daniels, toward town to spread the word about the Willoughbys.

Emily had tucked blankets into a large sack and strapped it to the sled, the lantern attached to the sled providing a small circle of light. “Amelia, you can ride on the front here. The sack will cushion your ride somewhat.” Amelia complied, and Emily showed her the straps that would help keep her on the sled instead of tumbling off.

She urged the dogs forward but slowed them to stop at the family sleigh. “We’re heading out, Pa.”

“Do you have your pocket watch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay out for no more than an hour, and then turn back.” He glanced from Emily to Amelia.

“Yes, sir.”

Emily signaled to the dogs to hit the trail, and they were off, racing into the moonlit night. The first surge away from the ranch was always the swiftest.

“Hold on!” she called out to Amelia. “They’re getting up to speed.”

“All right!” Amelia’s voice came back.

“If you see anyone or anything on the trail, or near any trees, let me know.”

They raced along. Fence posts made dark spots, punctuating the snow. A home in the distance darkened, its residents likely bedding down for the night.

The Willoughbys, however, lived farther away from town than most. Their spread nestled in the foothills. Emily would go there first; perhaps the family had returned home but then left again, for whatever reason.

“I don’t see anything,” Amelia said. “It’s hard to see clearly beyond the lantern, even with the moonlight.”

Emily didn’t argue with that, but she found the full moon a convenient and helpful aid in their trek tonight.

After thirty minutes on the trail, they arrived at the Willoughbys’ farm, the buildings standing out in stark contrast to the glowing snow. Another trail, the back trail to town, led past the farm. If Emily took the dogs along that trail, she would circle through town then back up the main trail that passed by the Covington Ranch.