Christmas Cowboy Kisses. Carol Arens

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СКАЧАТЬ you go,” she said brightly, rising to lift him in her arms. “Look what I have for you here.” She carried him closer to the warmth, his shivers telling her his cold body welcomed the heat. She bent her head to the skillet of sausage gravy still simmering on the stove. “See, there’s your breakfast. Shall I put you on the chair so you can have a plate full of biscuits with gravy on top?”

      The boy nodded against her chest, and she felt warmth spread throughout her body from the movement. It seemed that his trust in her would extend as far as breakfast. She backed to the table and placed him on a chair, then found a bowl in the dresser and placed half a biscuit from the warming oven on his dish, cutting it into small pieces before she covered it with sausage gravy and put it before him. He bent his head to inhale the fragrance. It must have been a long time since his father had been able to feed the child, Joy mused, and the tall stranger’s words confirmed her silent thoughts.

      “We haven’t eaten since yesterday noontime,” the man said in a hushed tone. “I fear I set off from the farm where we stayed last night without knowledge of the nearest town. I wanted to get an early start, but by the time the snow had covered all the tracks on the road, I was thoroughly lost and had no way of cooking something for us to eat. Then we landed in a ditch and spent the hours till dawn huddled together beneath the overturned wagon.”

      “Well, I’ll guarantee you could use something to eat, too, sir,” Joy said, waving at the chair across from the boy’s seat. She handed the boy a spoon from the spoon jar in the center of the table. “Eat up, sweetheart,” she said cheerfully. “It’ll warm your tummy.”

      “Let me shovel off your porch first,” the stranger said. “Then I’ll come in and eat while you tell me what else I can do to help you.”

      “I’d be much obliged, sir, but I’d feel better about things if you’d eat first. I’d set out to shovel when I heard you calling. I have to milk the cow before much longer, but I’ll feed you first and then you can help me make a path to the barn.”

      The man stood hesitantly and walked to the sink. “Then I’ll just wash up a bit first, ma’am, if that’s all right with you.”

      Grandpa pushed his chair back a bit, then bent to the lad who sat a foot or so from him and whispered to him in his husky voice, “You’re a fine-looking boy, sure enough. I’ll bet you can eat another biscuit when that one’s gone. Joy made lots this morning. Musta known we’d have company.”

      The child looked up at the old man and lifted his small hand to touch Grandpa’s beard. “Is that what it looks like when you haven’t shaved for a long time?” he asked.

      Grandpa chuckled. “Sure enough, boy.”

      The stranger bent over the sink basin and splashed his hands and face with water from the pump. Joy handed him the jar of soap from beneath the sink and he nodded his thanks as he poured a bit into his hands and scrubbed them together to form a mountain of suds that soon turned dark from the dirt he washed off. She poured a bit more soap on him, and he again rubbed it into suds, which he used to wash his face. She pumped the water again and he rinsed off with the clean flow.

      “Come sit down, sir,” she said, taking two biscuits from the warming oven and placing them on the plate that had been before her own chair. “Split these and I’ll dish up some gravy for you.”

      He did as she’d told him and watched as she poured a good helping for him. “I’m sure enough thankful for this, ma’am. I fear I’ve not even introduced myself to you and your father.”

      “He’s my grandpa, for my parents are both dead and buried,” Joy said quietly.

      “Well, I’m Gideon Burnley, and this is my son, Joseph. We’re without my wife, for I lost her when Joseph was born and she’s buried this side of St. Louis, where we had a home.”

      “Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Joy Watson.”

      “How do you happen to be in this neck of the woods?” Grandpa asked, settling back into his chair.

      “I decided to head west and look for a bit of land, for we lived in the city and I’d been raised on a farm. I’d been thinking that a new start might work well for us, so I set out with my boy and all the cash I got for our furniture and such to find a place for us to settle. The weather was fine when we started out and I wasn’t expecting the snow to start falling right away, figured we would have a month or so of decent weather to travel first.”

      “It’s been a hard winter thus far,” Joy said. “We haven’t had any relief from the snow and ice since October.”

      Gideon Burnley took the knife and fork Joy had given him and cut up the food before him. His son, Joseph, spoke up quietly. “Daddy, we forgot to bless our food.”

      “So we did, boy. Why don’t you do that now. The good Lord will excuse you from eating first.”

      Joseph bent his head and spoke simple words of thanksgiving for the food and then looked up at his father, as if seeking his approval. Gideon nodded his head and smiled. “Go ahead and eat, Joseph.”

      Joy found a bowl and fixed herself a biscuit, deciding the cow could wait for another ten minutes, for she was beyond hungry herself. Pouring a cup of coffee, she set it before Gideon and received his thanks. She then filled a glass from the pitcher of milk and offered it to Joseph. He reached for it and drank eagerly, as if it had been a long time since he’d had a glass of milk in his hands.

      Joy settled across from her grandfather and quickly ate her own breakfast, then rose to place her empty bowl in the dishpan. She poured a bit of soap into it and added a pan of hot water. The rest of the dirty dishes were added quickly and she fortified herself for the walk to the barn with a last sip of coffee.

      “I’m going out to milk now, Grandpa,” she said, touching his shoulder as she passed his chair. “You just sit still and enjoy your coffee, won’t you? I won’t be long.”

      “If you’ll hold up a moment, ma’am, I’d like to go ahead of you and make a path for you,” Gideon said, rising from his place to scoop his coat from the hook behind him. He slid into it quickly, then took Joy’s from her and held it for her, easing it onto her arms carefully. She snatched up her shawl and wrapped it around her head, tucking the ends into the front of her coat to provide extra warmth on her chest. She buttoned her coat, stamped her boots into place on her feet and opened the backdoor.

      Joy’s heartbeat thudded in her chest as Gideon led the way, for he’d reached for her hand to tug her close behind him. “Hold tight,” he said. “I’ll break the path for you, Joy. Just stay close.”

      The man threw off heat like the potbellied stove at the general store and she felt his warmth radiate as she followed him from the kitchen. Stay close. The man had no idea how tempting those words were, Joy thought, and she obeyed him, stepping in his footprints as they made their way across the yard.

      In but a few short minutes, Gideon had made a fair-size path halfway to the barn and she took a short detour to the milk house to reach in and snatch up the pail she’d left there last night, ready for this morning’s milking. Gideon looked back at her and grinned.

      “We’re almost there, ma’am. Another couple of minutes should do it.”

      Joy nodded her agreement, then ducked her head against his back and followed closely behind him. Tall, strong and blessed with a smile that warmed СКАЧАТЬ