Weathered Too Young (31 page)

Lark blushed as Tom clapped his hands and whistled.
“Now there ya go, Slater!” he chuckled.
“That’s the way!
I knew you still had it in ya.”

“Oh, I gotta lot more’n that in me,” Slater said, reaching out to take Lark’s face between his hands.
He smiled
,
and Lark couldn’t help but smile in return.
He meant to kiss her again
,
and she meant to let him.

“Now, you two, stop that teasing!” Katherine scolded, taking hold of Lark’s arm and pulling her from Slater’s grasp—though his hand caught hold of a loose length of her hair, tugging at it a moment before releasing her entirely. “You just ignore them, sweetie. They don’t have one ounce of good sense between the two of them.”

“Well, we best all turn in,” Tom said, yawning.
“No doubt them young
-
uns will be up before the sun to see what Santy brung
’
em.”

Slater nodded.
“Yep,” he said.
“Good night, Kate.”
Lark watched as Slater leaned over and kissed Katherine on the cheek.

“Good night, darlin’,” Katherine said.
She winked at him and added, “You little devil.”

“Good night, Lark,” he said to Lark then.
She giggled as he quickly took her by the waist, pulled her flush against his strong body,
and
kiss
ed
her hard on the mouth.

“Stop that!” Katherine scolded
,
slapping him hard on one shoulder.
“You’re gonna frighten her away.”

Slater released Lark
,
and she playfully pushed at his chest.

“Good night, Katie,” Tom said, kissing Katherine’s cheek as Slater winked at Lark and turned toward the stairs.

“And good night to you too, honey,” Tom said, kissing Lark’s cheeks as well.
“I apologize for my brother’s bad behavior,” he chuckled.
He leaned toward Lark, whispering, “Though I suspect it ain’t been the first time he’s been bad with you.”

Lark blushed
,
tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Tom chuckled and followed his brother upstairs.
“There won’t be no red wagon for you this Christmas, Slater Evans,” Tom teased.
“You’ve been naughty.”

Lark smiled as she heard Slater chuckle.
Then they were gone—the mischievous Evans brothers.

“My goodness!” Katherine exclaimed in a whisper.
“Aren’t you the lucky girl?
Smooching under the mistletoe with Slater Evans!
He certainly was in a playful mood this evenin’.”

Lark blushed.
“He’s in a naughty mood, if nothing else.”
She shook her head.
“I have the most difficult time trying to figure him.”

“I know what you mean,” Katherine began. “When we were younger, I could never tell whether he was teasin’ me or not. Still, I think I have him pretty well figured out by now.”
She paused, smiling at Lark for a moment
,
though the delight in her eyes seemed suddenly dulled by sadness—or regret.

“Do tell me this, Lark,” Katherine whispered, “was it just too wonderful for words?”

“What?” Lark asked, though she well knew what Katherine referred to.

“Slater’s kiss, silly goose! What did you think I meant?”

Lark blushed—though she was likewise awash with a strange sensation of worry.
Slater’s kiss was wonderful—just as wonderful as it had been the times before—too wonderful!
Yet the fact that Katherine would inquire about it—the fact that it was plain on her face that she wanted to know Slater’s kiss—it frightened Lark in that moment.

Katherine sighed, saying, “He’s never kissed me…not really kissed me…not the way he just kissed you,” she said.
“Oh, believe me
,
I tried and tried to get him to
…
you know, that Christmas he came home
,
the same one where he caused such a commotion at the social.
But he either didn’t want to
…
or was too blind to see me throwin’ myself at him. By the time he’d come home again
,
I was happily married to my Johnny.”
She smiled rather wistfully.
“But I always wondered though
…
you know
…
if kissin’ Slater Evans was as thrillin’ and delicious as I’d imagined it would.”

“I-I’m sure it was,” Lark stammered.
Her emotions were miserably conflicting inside her—jealousy, pity,
and
fear—possessiveness, joy, and confusion.

“You mean you’re sure it
is
,” Katherine giggled.

Lark smiled and nodded. “Yes…I’m sure it is.”

Katherine sighed
,
wrapping her arms around herself
,
and gazed into the fire a moment.
“I hope Charlie sleeps through the night,” she said.
“He’ll be a bear tomorrow if he doesn’t.”
She smiled at Lark and added, “And so will Slater.”

Lark giggled and nodded her agreement.

“You gonna turn in?” Katherine asked.

“In a minute,” Lark said.
“I’ll make sure the candles on the tree stay out…and watch the fire awhile.”

“Well, good night then,” Katherine said, leaning over to kiss Lark on one cheek.

Lark returned the affection, thinking that Christmas brought out the tender, loving feelings in people.
“Good night.”

After Katherine had retired to her room, Lark did linger in the parlor. The fire still burned wa
rm and comforting in the hearth
,
and outside the wind had died to a soft breath instead of a harsh howl.

Lark snuggled down into the large rocking chair and smiled as she gazed at the lovely Christmas tree standing sentinel over the gifts tucked beneath its lowest bo
ugh
s.
What a comforting, secure feeling was there in that moment—in that place.

“
What are you doin
’
up at this hour?
”

Lark was startled
to wakefulness to find
Slater
standing over her, scowling.

“
Oh, I
-I
…
”
she began.
She was chilled and still muzzy.

“
S
hh
. D
on’t wake Charlie,” he mumbled.
“I ain’t had me a wink of sleep yet tonight…and I sure won’t get one if that little sq
u
irmy worm wakes up.
”

Lark smiled
and
rose
as she studied him—studied the top of his ever-gaping underwear
,
the wool socks on his feet.

“I don’t know how you keep from catching cold,” she whispered.

Slater smiled,
“
Well, I’m in a hurry…and keep yer eyes away from my hind end
. T
hese are the drawers you still need to mend.”

“Well, why are you wearing them then?” Lark asked, averting her gaze to the ceiling.

“Well, I
wasn
’
t expectin
’
to play Santy Claus with a whole room full of folks, now was I?
”

“
I
’
m sorry.
I guess I just fell asleep,” Lark told him. “I
’
ll leave you to playing Santa Claus.
”
She stood up from the rocking chair, covering her mouth as a yawn escaped her.

2

“
Wait,
”
Slat
er
whispered
,
taking hold of her arm as she started to leave the room.
“
Ain
’
t you gonna stay and help me? It
’
d g
o a
might faster with two of us.”

Lark was
delighted—not only by his rather vulnerable appearance
but by the conspiratorial excitement sparkling in his dark eyes.
“
What shall I do?
”
she
asked, making sure to look directly at his face—just
in case he turned around unexpectedly.

“
You can
start fillin
’
them stockin
’
s,” he said, handing her an old flour sack.
Lark peered into the sack to see it contained nuts, hard candy
,
and several oranges.

“
Oranges
?” she exclaimed.

“Hush,” he said, clamping a hand over her mouth.
He smiled, however.
“Santy went to a lot of trouble to get them oranges.
Do you think the kids will be surprised?”

“Oh yes!” Lark giggled.
“Entirely.”

Lark went about filling the stockings with the sweets and treats from the sack Slater had provided.
She found the task to be one of the most wonderful delights of her life—kept imagining how excited the children would be when they found the oranges tucked in the toe of the stockings they’d left for Santa to fill.

When she’d finished with the stockings, she watched as Slater positioned a pretty china doll near Lizzy’s stocking.
He laid Johnny’s stocking
on a new saddle he’d
carried down from upstairs
,
and she helped him set up four rows of wooden soldiers for Charlie.

“
Whenever did you find the time to get out in these storms and purchase these things?
”
she asked in a whisper as Slater pulled several brown paper-wrapped gifts from a burlap bag and placed them under the tree with the others already waiting there.

“
I didn
’
t,” he said.
He smiled at her.
“Santy left
’
em for me.”

Oh, he was divine—adorable—delicious—utterly irresistible!
Lark loved the delight twinkling in his eyes—loved the fact that he was padding around in his stocking feet and underwear, preparing a glorious Christmas morning for the children.
She love
d
him—so desperately loved him—and
her
heart ached even as it swelled with joy.

“
Dang! It
’
s colder
than
…
it
’
s mighty cold down here,” he grumbled when he’d finished laying out his treasures.
“
I
’
m goin
’
back to bed. You can stay here and free
ze yer britches off if you want to
,
but I’m turnin’ in…for good.”

“Me too,” Lark said, stealing one last glance at the treasure
s
Slater had placed near the hearth and tree.

“Now, cover yer eyes, baby,” he whispered.
“I’m goin’
up.”
He smiled and leveled an
index finger at her.
“
And no peekin’
.”

Lark put her hands over her eyes, giggled
,
and resisted the urge to peek through her fingers as she heard Slater hurry up the stairs.

Once inside her room, she lit her lamp and knelt before the trunk at the foot of her bed.
Raising the lid, she slipped a hand between the
tattered clothes she’d
taken from her carpetbag and placed inside.
Carefully, she removed the photograph
she’d hidden there—held it nearer the lamp, smiling as she studied it
.

“
Merry Christmas, Mama,
”
she whispered as she caressed the sweet face in the photograph.
“I miss you.”

She replaced the photograph, closed the lid to the trunk
,
and began to unbutton the buttons at the back of her collar.
A smile touched her lips as she thought of her reoccurring dream of Slater—of his fumbling with the buttons at her neck. Perhaps she would have the dream again tonight.
What more perfect gift could she ask for than to dream of Slater all Christmas Eve?
She bit her lip
,
her arms and legs erupting with goose bumps as she li
ngered on the memory of Slater
capturing her beneath the mistletoe.
It had been a wonderful Christmas Eve—the most wonderful she had ever known!



“
Miss Lark
,
Miss Lark!
Wake up! It
’
s Christmas morning!
”

Lark rather unwillingly pulled herself from her romantic dreams of Slater and into full consciousness.
Again she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Miss Lark
,
i
t’s Lizzy!
Come have Chri
stmas with us!” Lizzy called from
beyond it.

The door opened
,
and Katherine peeped in.
“
Gracious, Lark!
How are you managin’ to sleep with all this noise?
The children a
re ready to beat each
other
up
to get to their gifts!
”

2