The Christmas Bargain (21 page)

Luke stood up from the table and took Filly into his arms, giving her a loving hug. “Before you get too wound up, let’s go up to the attic. Mother left some Christmas decorations behind when they moved, so you are welcome to whatever is up there.

Filly threw her arms around his neck in such a tight squeeze, Luke thought for a moment his air supply might be threatened, but he enjoyed every second of it.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the back stairs to the second floor. Walking partway down the hall, Luke opened a narrow door and a musty smell floated down around them. “Phew. I forgot to ask Mrs. Kellogg to air out the attic before it got so cold.”

He led Filly up a set of narrow stairs into a large attic stuffed with unused furniture, trunks, paintings and all manner of household items. Filly gazed around in awe.

Leading her to a corner where two black trunks sat beneath a small window, Luke unfastened the buckles, and raised the lids. Stepping back, he allowed Filly to look into the trunks brimming with hand blown glass balls, painted ornaments, a nativity set and more Christmas treasures than she’d ever dreamed of having.

“Oh, Luke,” she said, holding a delicate glass ball up to the faint light. “These are lovely.”

“And now they are yours to do with whatever you like,” Luke said, closing both trunks. He shouldered one and clamored down the narrow steps, then returned for the second. Upon his return, he found Filly digging in a trunk of discarded clothes.

“You can help yourself to anything that is up here, darlin’,” Luke said as he lumbered down the stairs.

Getting to her feet, Filly followed him down the stairs to the second floor landing and then down the main set of stairs to the first floor. Luke deposited the trunks in the parlor, brushed off his shirt and pants, donned his suit jacket followed by his coat and Stetson, and kissed her on the cheek before heading off to open the bank.

Filly returned to the kitchen, cleaned up from breakfast, tidied the already clean house and then allowed herself to dig through the trunks of Christmas treasures. By the time Mrs. Kellogg arrived later that morning to help with the laundry, Filly had decorations spread all over the parlor.

“Filly, good land, child, what are you doing?” Mrs. Kellogg said, coming into the parlor to see what mischief Filly was making.

“Luke brought these down from the attic this morning,” Filly said, pulling Mrs. Kellogg into the midst of the fun. “Look at all these wonderful treasures.”

“Yes, indeed,” the older woman said, holding up a large red velvet bow. “And I’m guessing you already have plans on where everything will go.”

Filly smiled and nodded her head.

When Luke came in for lunch, he heard laughter from the kitchen, where Filly and Mrs. Kellogg were finishing up a batch of sugar cookies.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he said, washing his hands at the sink. “You probably need a taste-tester.”

“Oh, we’ve tasted and tested and these are just fine,” Mrs. Kellogg said with an impish grin, or at least as impish as a plump grandmother can be.

Luke smiled and snitched a cookie as he walked past the counter. He had never seen Mrs. Kellogg quite so animated. She had been doing his laundry and helping keep his house for several years, and never once had he seen the short, round woman laugh so freely or openly. Filly must have got her infected her with the Christmas spirit, too.

Lunch was hot sandwiches made from leftover roast and gravy from the night before. Eating more than his share of cookies before he returned to the bank, Luke wondered what delicious treat would await him that night.

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Arriving home a few minutes early, Luke entered a quiet house. He could smell ham baking in the oven, but Mrs. Kellogg had gone home and Filly was nowhere to be seen, at least not on the main floor. Wandering through the kitchen a second time, he found an envelope with his name penned across the front leaning against a plate of cookies.

Slitting it open, he was filled with dread, recalling the last envelope from Filly resulted in a midnight ride to track her down before she returned to her father’s farm.

Quickly scanning her message, he smiled, hurrying down the hallway to his room. Changing from his suit into jeans, a woolen shirt and his work boots, he put on his wool-lined chore coat, and settled his old battered Stetson on his head.

Apparently Filly decided to ride up to the tree line to get some branches for decorating.

Hustling to the barn, Luke saddled Drake, and headed off in the direction of the end of their property. He didn’t see Filly anywhere immediately, but noticed fresh tracks in the snow and followed them. He topped a small rise to see his wife standing, actually standing, on Sheeba’s saddle reaching above her head to get a bunch of moss.

Not wanting to startle her or the horse, he and Drake sat quietly waiting until Filly retrieved her moss and, in one fluid motion, returned to a sitting position in the saddle.

Urging Drake forward, Luke called to Filly and she turned in surprise, waving a hand at him.

“Hi, Luke,” she said, cheeks glowing and eyes bright with happiness and fresh air. “Look what I found.”

Luke noticed a pile of greenery, some twigs of holly and, of course, the bunch of moss still in her hand.

“Good land, Filly, how are you going to get all this home?” Luke asked, eyeing the small mountain of greens.

“I haven’t exactly gotten that far in my plans,” she said, looking around and not seeing any immediate answer to the problem. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

“Perhaps,” Luke teased, dismounting Drake and looking around. He quickly found what he was looking for and in no time had a travois lashed together using long, thin poles and the rope from his saddle. Throwing the greenery on top, he tied the end of the rope to his saddle horn. “Let’s start home before it gets completely dark out.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Filly said, riding beside him. “I was going to come home after I got the moss and then there you were, coming to my rescue again.”

“What would you do without me?” Luke questioned lightheartedly, but Filly’s expression grew somber.

“I don’t want to think about it,” she said quietly. Before the mood could get as dark as the evening sky, Filly started to sing
Jingle Bells
and insisted Luke join in the chorus. Not one given to an abundance of holiday cheer, Luke realized he was about to be dragged into the festivities headfirst this year and relished the thought of experiencing it with Filly.

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The next few days, Filly was up long before the first fingers of dawn reached the horizon and stayed awake until late at night trying to make the house look beautiful for the holidays.

Still preparing three hearty, filling meals each day, Luke barely saw his wife except at mealtime. When he came home for lunch the fourth day after the decorations had been carted down from the attic, he stood at the end of the sidewalk and stared. The outside of his stately home now looked like a Christmas painting with green garlands and dark red ribbons draped across the porch railing and posts, wreaths hanging on the doors and an arrangement of holly, branches and pine cones nestled in a whitewashed bucket by the front door.

Even when his mother lived here, he couldn’t remember the house looking so festive and welcoming. Whistling as he entered through the front door, he called down the hall but didn’t get any response. Peeking into the parlor, boughs and holly draped the mantle and decorations belonging to his family sat artistically arranged around the room. The small table next to the couch held the nativity set.

The only thing missing was a tree, but Luke knew they would go out Christmas Eve to cut one. Garlands threaded along the ornate mahogany banister and more arrangements of greens sat tucked into vases and containers here and there.

The smell of the greenery mixed with the scent of cinnamon to create an altogether pleasant and inviting aroma. One that smelled of happy times, holidays, and home.

Sticking his head in the kitchen, Luke didn’t see Filly and continued on down the hall.

“Filly,” he called again, wondering where she could be.

“Oh, hello there,” she said bobbing her head out of her bedroom door. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Lunch is ready. I’ll have it dished up in a jiffy.”

“What are you working on?” he asked, trying to see into the room around her as she closed the door.

“You aren’t allowed to ask questions this close to Christmas,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the kitchen.  Luke allowed himself to be tugged along although he was more than a little interested in knowing what Filly was hiding in her room. He had a few Christmas surprises of his own planned.

Sitting down to lunch, they enjoyed a lively conversation. Luke wasn’t sure how they got on the topic of inventions, but he discovered there were many things Filly had missed in the years she spent trapped on the farm.

As he got up to head back to the bank, he kissed Filly on the cheek and asked her to walk him to the front door.

Shrugging into his coat, he looked around appreciatively one more time.

“You did a wonderful job with the decorations, Filly,” he said motioning into the parlor. “I’ve never seen the house look more festive or cheerful.”

She blushed under his praise. “Thank you. I had fun decorating.”

“I’m glad,” Luke said, gently squeezing her shoulder before going out the door. What he really wanted was to stand in the hall and move on to a whole new level of their kissing lessons. He wanted to take down that gorgeous hair and feel the silken curls in his hands. He wanted to bury his face in the hollow of her neck and drink in her scent like fine nectar.

He wanted his wife.

The only question was if she would return his feelings. He was still afraid to push her, especially when she might not return the love he felt for her.

Breathing deeply in the cold air, Luke banked his desires and trudged through the cold snow back to work.

Chapter Twelve

Opening the kitchen door, Luke inhaled the scent of ginger in the air and spied a pan of gingerbread cake cooling on the counter. He couldn’t wait for dessert, smiling in anticipation of another tasty treat.

Hiding a box from the mercantile under the end of the kitchen table, Luke removed his coat and hat, hanging them by the door. He turned around to see Filly bustling into the room with a stack of clean kitchen towels.

“Hello,” she said with a warm smile that started at her mouth and ended in her big green eyes.

“Hello, wife,” Luke said, standing at the sink and washing his hands. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“You do?” she asked, setting a savory beef pie on the table, encased in a flaky, golden crust.

“Yes, I do,” Luke said, pouring milk into their glasses and placing them on the table. “But you have to wait until after dinner to see.”

“We better eat fast,” Filly teased, anxious to see what Luke brought her.

Once they were finished with the meal, Filly sat impatiently waiting while Luke brought out the box and set it in front of her.

The box contained a variety of items from the mercantile she had seen but was embarrassed to ask what were. There was a bottle of root beer, a package of Wrigley gum, malted milk powder, cookies filled with fig paste, salt water taffy, and a tin of soft peppermint puffs.

“I know you’ve missed out on some of the new inventions and these are some you absolutely have to try,” Luke said, opening the bottle of root beer and pouring them each a glass.