Four

It had been a long time since Louisa enjoyed a day like the one she had spent with her mother-in-law and Mrs. Porterfield. The tea party lasted long into the afternoon, making the hours fly by. Amanda had joined them, and her lively presence had only added to the laughter and joy of the occasion. Ever since Louisa was confined to her home, she had grown more restless with each passing day. She had spent long hours alone, and even when Rico returned, he was often exhausted and fell asleep soon after supper. She had tried to occupy herself with reading to pass the time but could not seem to concentrate. She was hopeless at knitting and had mended every single piece of worn clothing she could find. Housework was out of the question, and if she did give the cottage the good sweeping it needed, Rico or her mother-in-law were sure to notice and chastise her for not following doctor’s orders.

Doc Wilcox and Addie took turns stopping by. Addie always pretended she had simply been in the area, and couldn’t she take a minute to see a friend? But Louisa was not fooled. Addie was not as good as her father was at disguising her concern.

The morning after the tea party, Louisa was alone when she felt a pain in her lower back that stopped her cold in her tracks. It was so sharp, her yelp of protest went no farther than her open mouth and a gasp for breath as she bent over the table, gripping the edge for support. As she waited for the pain to pass, her mind raced with options for seeking help. Rico and the other men would not be back until the following day.

Before they left, Rico had assured her that he would never miss their first Christmas as man and wife. “Besides,” he said as she lay in bed watching him tuck in his shirt and button the fly of his trousers, “I have a very special surprise for you and Little Bit there.”

Since they had no idea whether their baby would be male or female, Rico had come up with the name Little Bit to distinguish their child from other unborn babies.

Little Bit had seemed interested in what Rico had to say, if the sharp jab from within was any indication. “Tell me the surprise now.”

“Well, what if I told you I’ve gotten Doc’s okay for us to go into town for midnight mass? And what if I told you that from then until Little Bit is born, you’ll be staying with Doc and his family?”

“Truly?” It had been so long since Louisa had been allowed to leave the ranch for any reason, and the opportunity to partake in at least one of the Christmas traditions she and her family had always enjoyed was exciting. Her parents and sister would be at the service as well—not that it would be the same, but at least she would see them. She saw Rico’s smile turn to an expression of doubt.

“But maybe…”

Because she knew he had worked miracles to have everyone agree to his plan, she stroked his cheek and smiled. “It’s been months since I was in church. And Christmas Eve…how special that will be.”

Rico had kissed her with a good deal of passion. “Gotta go, querida. You get plenty of rest and I’ll be back as soon as the cows and the boss let me.” He grinned as he laid his hand on the swell of her belly. “Be good, Little Bit.”

Two days had come and gone since the men left. Now, as the pain finally passed, Louisa drank down a glass of milk—cold from being set outside overnight—and nibbled on a crust of the bread Juanita had brought the day before. That’s when the second pain struck. She closed her eyes and did a mental check of everyone’s whereabouts. Juanita would be serving up breakfast for the Porterfield women in the large dining room of the sprawling adobe house. Amanda would be babbling on about plans for Christmas celebrations. And no one would hear if Louisa were even able to cry out for help.

She stood as still as possible, once again clutching the table for support. Gradually the pain eased. Instinctively she spat out puffs of breath, and that seemed to help some. After what seemed like forever, she realized she was able to loosen her grip on the table and stand up straight. She tentatively took a step with no return of the pain. She got a cloth and wiped up the droplets of milk that had spilled when she knocked over the empty glass—something she had no memory of happening.

“Are you planning on being a Christmas baby after all, Little Bit?” she murmured. A wave of happiness passed through her, a lightness she had not experienced in weeks, as she imagined everyone in church and then the labor starting, and surely in those circumstances her family would not turn away. No, a baby born on Christmas had to be seen as a gift straight from God. Once Little Bit was out in the world to be held and cuddled, her parents would realize details like heritage and the tone of a person’s skin did not matter. What mattered was being a good person, kind and generous, and Rico was all of that and more.

Addie had explained that as her time neared, she was likely to have these pains. “False labor,” Addie had assured her, “unless they keep on. One or two is nothing to worry about. Pain every few minutes means this child is coming.”

Louisa started to hum the tune to “Silent Night.” It sounded to her like a lullaby, and she hoped it would soothe the baby into holding on a little longer. It seemed to work. She washed the breakfast dishes without further incident. Drying her hands on a flour-sack towel, she looked around the small space. Not a single sign of Christmas. She saw Trey Porterfield outside the small kitchen window. He was calling to Chet’s border collie. Louisa watched boy and dog frolic in the snow that had fallen overnight and then went to the door.

“Trey!”

He looked up and waved, then trotted over to the stoop. “You need me to go get Ma, Louisa?”

“What I need is a tree—a Christmas tree.”

Trey frowned. “Well now, not sure I can help you there,” he said slowly. Then he brightened. “I could make you some paper chains and we could string those around the door and windows…and maybe Juanita could pop up some corn for us to string with Juniper berries. I’ll go get Amanda so we can get started.” He dashed off, the dog at his heels.

The youngest of the Porterfields was a talented artist, constantly astounding his family and friends with his sketches and drawings of the landscape and even the people he saw every day. He was the perfect choice for someone to help her prepare the house for Christmas—a surprise for Rico.

Within the hour, the cottage buzzed with laughter and activity, and Louisa realized that between the tea party and now this, she had passed two whole days without the feelings of sadness and loss that had been her constant companions since her family disowned her and her child. What she felt as she watched Trey and Amanda loop strings of paper and popcorn around the window and doorway was joy—and hope.

* * *

At dawn, Rico shook his father awake. “Will you be all right going the rest of the way on your own? I’ve got something I need to do in town.”

Rico had not exactly told his father the truth. He was on his way into town all right, but not to run an errand or, as his father thought, to buy a present for Louisa. In the long sleepless hours, he had come to a decision. Things were changing all over the West. The coming of the railroad had made it far easier for ranchers to get their stock to market, and as a result, owners hired fewer hands. There had been a time when he thought he might have a chance to be foreman on the Porterfield place, but that wasn’t going to happen—not with the arrival of Chet Hunter a year or so back. As for striking out on his own, the land had all been bought up by sheepherders as well as cattlemen, and even if there had been acreage available, Rico could never afford it. And most of all, if he could not find a way to properly support his wife and children, he would never earn the respect—and forgiveness—of Louisa’s family.

He could promise her his undying love, but unless he could build a life for her that was at least close to the life she had grown up living, he would always be a failure in George Johnson’s eyes. And then, just before dawn, he recalled that the last time he’d been in town, he’d seen a sign posted outside the livery: NEED HELP.

He hoped the sign was still there.

The blacksmith, Tolly Backus, had been shoeing horses and renting out wagons and buggies for as long as Rico could recall. The man had to be close to seventy and showed his age in the slowness of his movements and the grunts of pain he issued in time with the pounding of the hot iron of a horseshoe. Tolly was a man who didn’t seem to care who you were, how much land you owned, or what the color of your skin might be. He treated everyone entering the hot confines of the stable the same—with a sneer of scorn and impatience.

“What do you want, Mendez?” The blacksmith didn’t turn from his work when Rico walked to the door of the stable the day before Christmas Eve.

“Saw your sign,” Rico said.

“Didn’t hang it to just be seen.”

“What’s the job?”

Tolly turned and looked directly at Rico. “I need help running this place—fact is, I may need more than help.” He squinted at Rico for a long moment. “Can you keep something under your hat, Mendez?”

“Yes, sir.”

With a gasp and choking cough, Tolly fumbled for the three-legged stool he kept near the door of the stable and sat. “Doc says I got a bad heart and two choices. I can work myself into an early grave or I can start training somebody to take over this business and give me some time off. You interested?”

“Maybe.” Rico’s heart hammered with excitement.

“Pay ain’t much, but it comes with living quarters, and in time you’d own the place. Not that I plan to kick off any time soon, but I seem to recall you have a reputation for knowing your way round a branding iron. That’s good experience for this job…”

“Can I see the living quarters?”

“Not so fast, vaquero. First, let me see you handle that hot iron there.” Tolly unhooked an extra leather apron from its place on the wall and tossed it to Rico.

An hour and two shoes later, Tolly clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a natural, kid. Cottage is out the back there. Door’s not locked. Comes with whatever’s still there. Nobody’s lived there since my kids left and my Sarah passed on, so it might need a little dustin’.”

A little dustin’ was apparently Tolly’s attempt at humor. Cobwebs stretched across window frames and doorways. A couple of scorpions scurried across the floor as soon as Rico opened the door. The air inside reeked of trapped cooking odors and abandonment. But the place was filled with light from several windows, and a stairway leading up to a second floor promised more than twice the space they had at the ranch. What furniture there was would do them nicely for the time being, and he could just see Louisa standing at that kitchen window, humming to herself the way she did, while Little Bit played nearby.

He closed the door and returned to the stable. Tolly did not look up. “Well?”

“I got a kid coming any day,” Rico began.

“Pay is fifty bucks a month plus the cottage. I hold back half the money toward payment on the business, should that day come. That’s the deal—take it or leave it.”

“You had any other interest?” Rico asked, knowing the sign had been there long enough for the ink to have run and the paper to turn yellow.

“That ain’t none of your damn business, Mendez. If you want the deal, say yes and be back here the day after Christmas at sunup. You don’t want it or you have to think it through, stop wasting my time.”

“Fifty dollars, the cottage, and I keep working branding and calving seasons for the Porterfields. That, plus you hold back a quarter of the pay, not half. I expect you’re stubborn enough to live for some years yet, and you wouldn’t want me paying you off before you’re ready.”

Tolly actually chuckled. “You’ll do,” he said as he wiped his hand on the apron and stuck it out for Rico to shake.

“Merry Christmas,” Rico said as he headed out the door.

Tolly grumbled a reply Rico didn’t catch, because he was already mounted up and riding hard for the ranch to tell Chet Hunter his plans.

* * *

Addie Wilcox arrived just after noon. As usual she stopped first to check on Louisa, and Louisa did not like the slight frown that marred her friend’s otherwise placid face.

“I am going to that service tomorrow night, Addie.”

“Never said you weren’t,” Addie replied as she put away her stethoscope and then wiped the lenses of her glasses on her skirt. “But I am going to be right there with you and we’d best sit toward the back, unless you’ve got an idea of performing some kind of live nativity pageant.”

“You think the baby will come before the New Year?”

“I think that’s within the realm of possibility. However—and this is a huge however—everything I know tells me you are not yet ready to deliver. My father agrees, which is why we’re letting you go to town. But once there, you will stay there until this child arrives. My folks have set up a room for you at our house.”

“I appreciate that,” Louisa said quietly as she stood in the doorway, watching Addie go. What she didn’t say was that no matter what anyone said, she was determined to attend Christmas Eve services. That might be her only chance to see her parents and sister during the holidays—or ever. She had not told Rico, but the truth was, with each passing day she lost a bit more hope she might ever reconcile with her family. On the other hand, surely once they saw Little Bit in the flesh…

From the yard she heard the muffled sound of a horse and ran to the door. “Rico!” she cried. She hadn’t expected him before the morrow, and here he was.

“What’s all this?” Rico stopped at the door as he entered the cottage and saw the decorations. “Lookin’ like Christmas, if you ask me.” He didn’t even bother to remove his hat or slicker before taking her in his arms and kissing her. “And I have got the perfect present for my best girl and Little Bit,” he said.

“Tell me you didn’t spend too much.” Louisa worried constantly about their finances. Rico didn’t make a lot of money, and Louisa hadn’t said anything yet, but one day she wanted a larger house. After all, there would be more children eventually and they would not all fit in the tight space they currently called home. She had been putting aside whatever she could of Rico’s pay. She hoped that by spring they might have enough to at least start making plans.

“Not a dime,” he said and kissed her forehead as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook near the door. “Looks nice,” he added, fingering the paper chains and other decorations. “Our first Christmas, muñeca, and it’s going to be one to remember.”

“Oh, Rico, I’m so excited about going into town. I’ve been so cooped up here. It feels like I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be out among people.”

“We’ll leave right after noon,” he promised.

* * *

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Louisa stood close to the small mirror as she fussed with her hair. “Do you think I look all right?”

“You are always beautiful, Louisa.” The way his eyes burned, she had no choice but to believe him, and she felt her cheeks flush with pleasure.

“Well, you need to change your shirt.” She held out the new one she had had Amanda help her buy for him. And because it was Amanda doing the choosing, it was unlike any shirt Rico had ever owned…a soft chambray cotton in a faded blue color with suede piping outlining the pockets and cuffs. “Merry Christmas, Rico,” she said shyly.

He took the shirt from her and studied it.

“Do you like it?” She was nervous that perhaps he would think it too fancy.

“I’ve never had anything so fine,” he said. “I mean, wait till Bunker and the others see me in this.” He grinned as he removed the shirt he was wearing, slid his arms through the sleeves of the new one and began fastening the bone buttons. “Fits like it was made just for me.”

“I thought it would be best if we exchanged presents before we leave for town,” she said.

“Now that’s not gonna work, when it comes to the present I have for you and Little Bit there. That present is in town, so I’m afraid the two of you will just have to wait, but I promise it will be worth every minute.”

And it was. When they reached town just before twilight on Christmas Eve, instead of tying up the wagon by the church or the Wilcox house, Rico pulled around to the back of the livery and stopped in front of a small two-story house. “Come on,” he said, his voice shaking with excitement.

“Who lives here?” Louisa was puzzled. They had reached the front door, and instead of knocking, Rico grasped the knob.

“We do—or we will.” When the door refused to budge, he used his shoulder to push it fully open. “It’s not much now, but a good cleaning and some paint and…” He lit a lantern, revealing a fully furnished parlor. He hesitated, seeing the place in all its tawdriness for the first time. What had he been thinking?

“Rico, we can’t afford this—we can’t live this far from the ranch and your work, even if we could.”

He held her hands as he told her about the meeting he’d had with the blacksmith and livery owner. “Then I talked to Chet and to Mrs. Porterfield, and they thought it was a fine idea. We’ll have a start on a solid future for us and our kids, Louisa.”

She walked slowly through the small house—the parlor and dining room already furnished, a kitchen twice the size of the one she had now, and on that first floor a bedroom complete with a four-poster and a wardrobe for their clothes.

“And two more bedrooms up here,” Rico told her as she slowly climbed the stairs, with him carrying the lantern to guide the way. “And most days, instead of being out on the range, I’ll be right across the yard there, within hollerin’ distance, should you need me.” He had stepped past her to the window at the landing and was pointing toward the livery.

“You did all of this for me—for us?”

“I love you, Louisa, and I needed to find a way I could provide for my family. We can build something together here—a better life for our children.”

Tears welled, tears of surprise and joy and relief that somehow this wonderful man she had married had found a way to secure the future for them—one her parents could not possibly condemn. “Oh, Rico, you have given us the miracle I prayed for. How can my family help but embrace you now?” She kissed him tenderly. “I love you so much,” she whispered. Then she grinned as she cupped his face in her hands. “Now let’s get to the church and wait there so I can tell my father what you’ve done for me—for us.”

She turned to start back down the shadowy stairs. She was looking back at Rico and laughing when she missed the first step and tumbled forward. The last thing she heard before passing out was Rico’s cry of fear and his boots heavy on the stairs as he rushed to her side. The last thing she felt was a gush of liquid soaking her skirt and legs.