Dorothy Garlock (44 page)

“He’s probably sitting in the sun on some island with a girl in each arm,” Owen said drily.

“Humph!” Uncle Gus snorted.

Owen lifted the twenty-five pound turkey to the top of the range and went to peer out the kitchen window.

“I thought I heard sleighbells. Here they come. Jehoshaphat! That’s some sleigh. The runners on that thing are twelve feet long. I’m going to race Cousin Bryon before the day’s over.”

“Owen Jamison! I declare. At times you act like a big kid.” Ana ducked beneath his arm so she could see out the window.

The sleigh stopped beside the path leading to the porch. Lily and Hettie were helping Mrs. Hendricks, who was now like one of the family, up the icy path. There was much stamping on the porch as the visitors attempted to rid their feet of snow before they came into the house.

“Merry Christmas.” Hettie’s cheeks were red, her eyes bright and she had a huge smile on her face.

Lily was smiling, too. Rich brown curls that escaped from the bright-blue knit cap framed her face. Snowflakes rested on her head and shoulders.

“That was some ride,” Lily exclaimed happily.

“I swan to goodness,” Sophia said as she came into the house. “That horse is as frisky as a colt this morning.”

“Merry Christmas, Sophia. Let me take your coat.”

“Thank you, dear. My gracious! Something smells good. Mr. Jamison will bring in our basket.”

“We made fudge, Ana.” Hettie was shaking the snow from the hem of her dress onto the rug beside the door. “We got a coconut at the store. Did you know a coconut has eyes?”

Ana laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right.”

“We got presents.” Hettie dropped a kiss on Harry’s head. “Got some for this sweet baby too.”

“I’ve never seen anyone enjoy Christmas like Hettie. She’s made gifts for everyone.”

“Sophia! You’re not supposed to tell.”

“I’m sorry, love. I’m just so proud of you, I couldn’t help but tell it.”

When Byron Jamison came in, he brought a gust of cold air in with him as well as a large basket.

“Here’s your basket, Soapy,” he teased and knocked the snow from his knit cap and crammed it down in the sleeve of his coat before he hung it on the rack beside the door. The look he gave Sophia set Ana to wondering if a romance was brewing between them.

“Shall we go to the parlor?” Ana asked. “Owen will light the candles on the tree.” She failed to see the look exchanged between Owen and his uncle.

“We’ve got to have our hot apple cider, honey,” Owen said. “Sit down and I’ll get it.” He moved the highchair to make room at the table.

They lingered over the mugs of hot cider, talking not of Christmases past, but mostly about the race Cousin Bryon and Owen would have in the afternoon.

It was mid-morning when Owen cocked his head to one side and said, “Damned if I don’t hear sleighbells.”

Ana went to the window to look up the lane. “Who would be coming to call on Christmas morning?”

A sleigh, drawn by two steaming horses, circled the barnyard and stopped at the door. A man jumped out and waved to the driver as the sleigh sped back down the lane. Ana looked back at Owen and his uncle. Both men had guilty grins on their faces.

“Tarnation! You knew he was coming!” She flung open the door.

“Hello,” Soren yelled. “I hope you haven’t eaten yet. I’m starved.”

“Soren! Oh, Soren, this makes Christmas complete. And when
haven’t
you been starved?” Ana flew into his outstretched arms, her dress getting wet from the snow on his coat.

“Give your favorite cousin a kiss, Cousin Ana.”

“Oh, Soren. I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m glad to be here.” He kissed her soundly. “Merry Christmas, Pa.” Soren embraced his father.

“Merry Christmas, son.” Uncle Gus sounded as if he had a frog in his throat.

Soren pumped Owen’s hand, hugged Hettie and was introduced to Mrs. Hendricks. He pounded Cousin Byron on the back.

“You look almost human without that beard, cousin.”

“Still mouthy. I’d thought you’d a out-growed that by now.”

Everyone, except Lily, crowded around Soren. She stood at the back, in the doorway leading to the hall, looking on and smiling. Suddenly, Soren was looking at her.

“Hello, Lily.”

“Hello, Soren.”

“I’m back . . . to stay.”

“I’m glad for Uncle Gus. He’s missed you.”

“And you, Lily. Have you missed me?”

“Of . . . course.”

“Pa and I are going to build a broom and brush factory in White Oak.”

Lily smiled, but made no comment. She had matured while he was away. It bothered Soren that she no longer hung on his every word and looked at him with adoring eyes, but with the cool, friendly eyes of a self-assured young woman. It suddenly occured to him that he might have lost his chance with Lily, and some of the joy of homecoming left him.

“Now that the family is all here, we can open our presents,” Ana announced. “Isn’t it grand, Owen?” she whispered as they led their guests to the parlor.

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s grand.”

Ana’s heartbeat began to surge, and she could no longer speak for the tears in her throat. She smiled up at her husband. He smiled back at her, his face younger and rid of care; his mouth had lost its harshness months ago. He put his arm around her. She could feel the pump of his heart in her shoulder. She pulled his head down to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a sneaky . . . piss-ant for not telling me Soren was coming.”

He laughed against her cheek as his hand moved between them to caress her breast. “Yeah, I am.”

“Owen! Stop that!”

Outside, big feathery snowflakes continued to fall.

If you enjoyed HOMEPLACE, be sure to look for. . .

RIBBON IN THE SKY

by Dorothy Garlock

You will be captivated by the hauntingly beautiful story of a love that refused to die.

Set in Nebraska shortly after the turn of the century, RIBBON IN THE SKY is a heart-stirring novel with the power to make you remember it long after the last page has been turned.