A Log Cabin Christmas (23 page)

He meant to say that he was happy to help. He meant to offer another gentle word of comfort. He meant to give her a soft hug and then let go.

He did none of those things.

Instead he took one look into her sapphire eyes and leaned down until there was just a breath between their lips. He waited for a moment, giving her ample opportunity to pull away.

She didn’t.

When their lips finally met, Jed’s heart pounded so hard that he was certain she could feel it. She tasted like the sweet peach preserves they’d eaten together at lunch—a meal he wanted to share with her for the rest of his life.

The unexpected thought crashed through him, turning his stomach to stone. He’d fallen in love with the woman in his arms, but he could not take her home with him.

C
ora’s hands moved automatically, drawing the needle and thread through the thick blue wool. Each stitch blended with the rest of the frock, but she didn’t pay attention. Her ears stayed attuned to the sound of Jed’s ax breaking apart the last of their renewed firewood supply. When the consistent rhythm stopped, she quickly bundled her project into a sack and tucked it into her sewing box.

A voice in her head asked why she even bothered. She was in no danger of Jed returning to the house as long as Papa was still in the cellar. After all, Jed had made certain that they hadn’t spent any time alone since their kiss.

Her stomach danced at just the memory of the strength in his arms and the compassion in his voice as he’d spoken that prayer over her. Being in his arms had been everything she dreamed of, sharing her first kiss with the man she loved. But her love wasn’t enough to make him stay, and a band around her heart constricted with that certainty.

She’d fallen in love with a man and become her own worst nightmare, the woman left behind to wonder.

When the front door opened, she wiped a wayward tear from her cheek, hunching over her knitting.

“Where’s Jed?” Papa asked as he set down the items he’d brought up from storage.

“I suppose where he usually is lately.” Her tone sharper than she meant, she quickly offered a softer follow up. “I’m sure he’s whittling somewhere by himself. He’s been doing that a lot.”

Papa walked over to the fireplace, clapping and rubbing his hands in front of the flames. “Is everything all right between you two? I haven’t seen you spending much time together lately.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.” That same voice in her head gnawed on those words.

If that’s really the truth, then why is your heart breaking?

Papa shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers so hard that his suspenders pulled taut over his white shirt, a sure-tell sign that he was about to broach a subject with which he was uncomfortable. “Your dreams seem to be getting better.”

Cora glanced into his dear, weatherworn face. “They are.”

“Did something happen to help?”

Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room, filled almost entirely by the tree now adorned with strings of popcorn and bright-red bows made of ribbon, gifts from her mother. “I suppose talking with Jed helped.”

One of Papa’s furry eyebrows lifted in an arch. “When did you talk with him?”

“A few days ago.”

Papa nodded in a way that indicated he understood a lot more than he let on. “What did he say?”

Eyes still on her sewing, she said, “I’d rather not speak of it right now.”

Papa knelt by her chair, resting both of his hands on her arm. “Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you tell me what burden it is that you carry?”

Tears blurred her vision. “I can’t.”

Christmas morning dawned bright, the sun sparkling off the thin layer of fresh snow blanketing the front yard. Cora stood by the window, enjoying the simple beauty for nearly thirty minutes, her mind recounting the promise she’d forced Jed to make. He’d said he would stay until Christmas, and she knew he would not stay even a moment more. This would be their last day together.

Even if he had been distant since their kiss, she would miss his presence in their little home. His voice sometimes filled the whole room, and his laugh forced her to join in.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

She turned into Papa’s embrace, holding him close. “You, too.”

Boots thudded against the outside door frame, and Jed stepped into the room, his cheeks rosy from the cool morning. “The chores are done,” he announced.

“Merry Christmas, Jed.” Papa shook the other man’s hand with a firm grip. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. What’s for breakfast?”

Both men turned to Cora, whose face must’ve turned as pink as Jed’s. “Oh my! I haven’t even started it.” She motioned to the rocking chair. “Sit down. It’ll be ready shortly.”

She broke several eggs into the cast-iron skillet and cooked them until they stopped wiggling. Then she added thick pieces of ham, which sizzled when they hit the pan. While warming several biscuits from the day before, she set the table with the last of her orange marmalade.

Cora barely tasted the food as she ate, but Jed and Papa enjoyed it immensely if their mumbles of appreciation between bites were any indication. “Just like your grandmother used to make,” Papa sighed at one point.

The morning meal finished quickly, and as Cora washed the plates, Jed pulled the bench near her chair. Papa handed him the Bible. “Start in Luke, chapter two.”

Jed did as he was told, beginning just as Cora settled into her seat. “‘And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.’” In a clear timbre Jed read the story of Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem and the birth of the Messiah, and the angels and shepherds who were there that first Christmas night.

When he had finished, Jed set the heavy book on the bench beside him, and Papa prayed over them. He prayed for an end to the war and a peace to come again. He prayed for their safety inside the little cabin, but when he asked God to protect Jed when he returned to Washington, Cora bit on her lip to keep from letting a sob escape.

Papa was the first to give his gifts, a beautiful knitted shawl for Cora and an old knife he said he’d intended to give to his only son. But now it seemed fitting that Jed take it with him.

Next Jed handed them each a small parcel wrapped in paper and twine. “Open them at the same time,” he urged.

“You didn’t have to do this.” As Cora’s fingers opened the paper, a perfectly carved wooden angel fell into her hands, the feathers of its wide wings and cherubic features etched with precise detail. “Oh my.” Her thumbs ran across the smooth edges, her mouth hanging open in awe.

“This is remarkable craftsmanship.” At Papa’s words Cora glanced over to see a manger resting in his palm. Even at a distance, she could see the lines of straw Jed had so meticulously fashioned into the soft wood.

Jed’s smile carried all the joy of a gift appreciated, and Cora warmed into it. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

“Well, I meant to make a star, too.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I just ran out of time. Lots of wood to cut.” He chuckled, the first time in days.

“Well, now it’s my turn.” She handed a small paper-wrapped parcel to her grandfather, who thanked her profusely when he opened it to reveal a blue shirt. “For Sunday services when they resume, I thought.”

“It’s very nice. Thank you.”

“And for the captain.” Cora stretched to pass him a substantially larger burlap bag.

A line formed between his eyebrows as he reached into the carrier, recognition lighting his eyes only when he pulled the folded pile of cloth into the light. “My uniform.” He flipped the frock over, his smile growing at the clean material. His finger traced the small stitches around the mended hole. “You fixed it.”

“Good as new, I think. Do you like it?”

He caught her eye, his smile nearly making her forget that the uniform meant that he would be leaving. Tonight.

That night Jed stood with Cora so close to the door of the cabin that firelight illuminated them through the window, flashing on the polished brass buttons of his blue frock. He held both of her hands gently in his, looking anywhere but into her eyes. He hadn’t made any secret about having to return to Washington, and he’d kept his promise to stay through Christmas. They’d both known this was coming, yet somehow he felt as though he was letting her down and betraying the affection growing in his own heart.

“I have to go tonight. It’s safer for me to travel in the darkness.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He squeezed her hands, offering a subtle smile. “Thank you again for mending my uniform.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.” Her head turned so that she could look in the direction of the grove of fir trees, near where they’d shared their kiss. “Thank you for all you’ve done. For the firewood and—and … well, for helping me put my worries into God’s hands.” Her voice cracked on the last word as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Please don’t cry.” He brushed away one of the tears with his thumb. Forcing out a strained sigh, he closed his eyes to the pain flickering across her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, lips drawn tight.

As her tears made their trek near the corner of her mouth, he physically fought the urge to kiss them away. Wrestling the impulse to pull her tight and relive that moment in the forest that he’d taken such caution not to repeat for fear that this night would be harder than it had to be, he latched back onto her hands and took a small step back.

“I care for you, Cora. I truly do. “He shook his head, as he butchered his attempt to explain his mounting love for her without breaking her heart further. “The truth is that I care about you far too much to leave you to wonder whether I’m ever coming back. I won’t let you be one of those women in your nightmares.” He hung his head, even though she still refused to look at him. “I don’t know how much longer this war will last, and I can’t promise you that I’ll be able to return.”

Suddenly her head whipped back toward him, her eyes locking with his. “Then don’t go!”

“I would stay if I could. You know that, right?”

Her eyes filled with another batch of tears, and she nodded.

“You’re going to meet someone …” Jed had to stop to clear his throat, unable to get out the words he needed to say. “You’re going to meet an amazing man and have a wonderful family. Any man would be lucky to love you.”

I certainly was
.

Her eyes turned dark, brooding like the sea, the firelight transforming her features into shifting shadows. She’d probably never been to Maryland, but as he let go of her hands and stepped into the woods, he knew he could never be home without her.

December 24, 1865

C
ora inhaled the sweet scent of fresh snow as she traipsed across the wide field in front of Carnton, holding out her mittens to catch the flakes before they melted. Her breath curled into a cloud floating above the frozen earth. The ground before her had long since been washed clean by the summer rains and leveled by Mr. McGavock’s plow. Someone just passing through might never know that this land had once been marred by the shells of the Union army.

Not all of Franklin had returned to normal more than a year after the battle, but almost a mile from the hub of the fighting Cora’s little world had resumed as it once had before the war. Before the nightmares.

Before the captain.

As she entered the stand of trees, her eye instantly caught the small stones laid out in the shape of a cross at the base of the tree where she’d first seen him. She knelt by them and wiped each rock clean of the light dusting of snow.

As she’d done every day for a year, she whispered a prayer for Jedediah Harrington, wherever he might be, giving all of her concern for him to the only One who could take away her anxiety.

“This year could have been miserable,” she whispered so quietly that the morning birds continued to sing. “But I will continue to cast my cares upon You, for You careth for me. And for Jed, too.”

As she stood and resumed a steady gait back toward the cabin, a slow smile curved her lips. The war had ended in April according to the newspapers, and still there was no word from Jed, but she would wait until there was. He’d made no promise to ever return, but deep in her heart, Cora knew that if he was able, he would come back to her.

So she hoped. And she continued to pray.

As she entered the clearing, the snow began falling in earnest, and she could barely make out the figure of her grandfather walking along the side of the cabin.

“Papa!”

He turned and waved. “I’m going to get some water. Did Carrie like her new dress?”

“Very much! I’m going to start dinner. Hurry back.” He waved again, resuming the path toward the small inlet from the river.

It wasn’t until Cora reached the front door that she spotted six wooden stars on the windowsill. Running the last few steps to them, she snatched one, turning it over and over in her hands as though it would reveal what she hoped to be true. Her stomach in knots, she spun on the spot.

“Jed?” Her voice barely a whisper, she tried again. “Jed!”

And then he was there, stepping out from behind a tree, marching across the yard. Unable to wait for him to reach her, she sprinted toward him, throwing her arms about his neck when they met. His embrace nearly stole her breath, or was it the way her heart doubled its speed?

“I have missed you,” he whispered into her ear. His smile wavered as he put his hands on her waist and pushed her a half step away, his gaze running from her head to her toes as though confirming she was truly in front of him.

She blushed but didn’t dare look away from the face she’d longed to see all these months.

“I’m not too late, am I?” The tone of his voice turned serious.

“No. I haven’t even started dinner yet.”

His laughter, so rich and familiar, covered her like a second cloak. “Not for dinner. For you.”

“For me?”

His face pinched in serious concentration. “When I left, I told you to find a good man. Have you found someone else? Are you married? Am I too late?”

Her mirth as deep as the conviction in his voice, she laughed heartily. “No! Of course not. How could I marry someone else when I have been in love with you for more than a year?”

The relief that crossed his face brought a boyish grin with it as he swooped down and kissed her soundly, his arms wrapping about her shoulders as he made her forget everything but them. Her toes curled, and she tried to smile as joy bubbled deep in her stomach. He had been more than worth the wait.

When he finally pulled back, his smile only radiated brighter. “I wanted to ask you to wait. Do you know how much I wanted you to wait for me? But I just couldn’t put you through that.”

“I know.” She brushed the snow from his whiskers before cupping his cheek with her hand.

“And then I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About your sweet smile and beautiful eyes. About getting home to you.”

“But your home is in Maryland.”

Pressing both of his hands to her cheeks, he laughed. “My home is wherever you are, so I returned as soon as I could.”

“Did you see Bess?”

His smile dimmed. “Yes. I delivered her letter on my way to Washington and stopped again on my way back here. That letter broke her heart, but I believe she’s beginning to find hope again. Matthew is walking now, and she chases after him. A neighbor that we grew up with asked if he could court her, so there may be a wedding on the farm soon.”

“What else did you think about while you were away?”

He grinned like a cat who had stolen a bowl of milk. “About how I owed you a star to add to your set. So I just kept carving them for you.”

She tossed a glance over her shoulder at the row of stars leaning against the window. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I have about a dozen more in my saddlebags.”

“A dozen?”

“I told you. I couldn’t think of anything but you.” The intensity in his gaze deepened.

“I’m so glad you’re here in time for Christmas! But I don’t have a gift for you.”

“You’ve already given me the best gift I could ask for.” He leaned in to briefly press his lips against hers.

She dove back into his arms, wrapping hers around his back. But as soon as she tucked her face into his shoulder, she realized something was different. “Where’s your uniform?”

“I resigned from the War Department.”

“But your job? It was your dream.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “You’re my new dream.”

Tilting back to look into his face, she bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling. “How long can you stay this time?”

He pressed his lips to hers quickly and passionately, the kiss fueled by the same fervor she’d carried in her heart for a year.

“Forever.”