Secret Christmas Twins. Lee McClain Tobin

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       Chapter Two

      Sunday morning, just after sunrise, Jason followed the smell of coffee into the farmhouse kitchen. He poured himself a cup and strolled around, looking for his grandfather and listening to the morning sounds of Erica and the twins upstairs.

      Yesterday had been rough. He’d called their mother overseas—the easier telling, strangely—and then he’d let Papa know about Kimmie. Papa hadn’t cried; he’d just said, “I’m glad Mama wasn’t alive to hear of this.” Then he’d gone out to the barn all day, coming in only to eat a sandwich and go to bed.

      Erica and the twins had stayed mostly in the guest room. Jason had made a trip to the vet to get Mistletoe looked over, and then rattled around the downstairs, alone and miserable, battling his own feelings of guilt and failure.

      Tough love hadn’t worked. His sister had died alone.

      It was sadness times two, especially for his grandfather. And though the old man was healthy, an active farmer at age seventy-eight, Jason still worried about him.

      Where was his grandfather now, anyway? Jason looked out the windows and saw a trail broken through newly drifted snow. Papa had gone out to do morning chores without him.

      A door opened upstairs, and he heard Erica talking to the twins. Maybe bringing them down for breakfast.

      She was too pretty and he didn’t trust her. Coward that he was, he poured his coffee into a travel cup and headed out, only stopping to lace his boots and zip his jacket when he’d closed the door behind him.

      Jason approached the big red barn and saw Papa moving around inside. After taking a moment to admire the rosy morning sky crisscrossed by tree limbs, he went inside.

      Somehow, Papa had pulled the old red sleigh out into the center of the barn and was cleaning off the cobwebs. In the stalls, the two horses they still kept stomped and snorted.

      Papa gave him a half smile and nodded toward the horses. “They know what day it is.”

      “What day?”

      “You’ve really been gone that long? It’s Sleigh Bell Sunday.”

      “You don’t plan on...” He trailed off, because Papa obviously did intend to hitch up the horses and drive the sleigh to church. It was tradition. The first Sunday in December, all the farm families that still kept horses came in by sleigh, if there was anything resembling enough snow to do it. There was a makeshift stable at the church and volunteers to tend the horses, and after church, all the town kids got sleigh rides. The church ladies served hot cider and cocoa and homemade doughnuts, and the choir sang carols.

      It was a great event, but Papa already looked tired. “We don’t have to do it this year. Everyone would understand.”

      “It’s important to the people in this community.” Papa knelt to polish the sleigh’s runner, adding in a muffled voice, “It was important to your grandmother.”

      Jason blew out a sigh, picked up a rag and started cleaning the inside of the old sleigh.

      They fed and watered the horses. As they started to pull out the harnesses, Jason noticed the old sleigh bells he and Kimmie had always fought over, each of them wanting to be the one to pin them to the front of the sleigh.

      Carefully, eyes watering a little, he hooked the bells in place.

      “You know,” Papa said, “this place belongs to you and Kimmie. We set it up so I’m a life tenant, but it’s already yours.”

      Jason nodded. He knew about the provisions allowed to family farmers, made to ensure later generations like Jason and Kimmie wouldn’t have to pay heavy inheritance taxes.

      “I’m working the farm okay now. But you’ll need to think about the future. There’s gonna come a time when I’m not able.”

      “I’m thinking on it.” They’d had this conversation soon after Gran had died, so Jason wondered where his grandfather was going with it.

      “I imagine Kimmie left her half to you.”

      Oh. That was why. He coughed away the sudden roughness in his throat. “Lawyer’s going to call back tomorrow and go through her will.”

      “That’s fine, then.” Papa went to the barn door. “Need a break and some coffee. You finish hitching and pull it up.” He paused, then added, “If you remember how.”

      The dig wasn’t lost on Jason. It had been years since he’d driven horses or, for that matter, helped with the farm.

      It wasn’t like he’d been eating bonbons or walking on the beach. But he’d definitely let his family down. He had to do better.

      By the time he’d figured out the hitches and pulled the sleigh up to the front door of the old white house, Papa was on the porch with a huge armload of blankets. “They’ll be right out,” he said.

      “Who?”

      “Erica and the babies.”

      “Those babies can’t come! They’re little!”

      Papa waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve always taken the little ones. Safer than a car.”

      “But it’s cold!” Even though it wasn’t frostbite weather, the twins weren’t used to Pennsylvania winters. “They’re from Arizona!”

      “So were you, up until you started elementary school.” Papa chuckled. “Why, your parents brought you to visit at Christmas when you were only three months old, and Kimmie was, what, five? You both loved the ride, and no harm done.”