Too Old for Christmas Read online

  She had finally confided in him the reason she could not get credit at the mercantile. Sean considered Mr. Magendie a reasonable man, but the affable merchant evidently had his limits. From what Ona had told him, the late Mr. McNair not only got far in arrears on paying his account, he also proceeded to get belligerent with Magendie and threatened him if he did not continue to grant him credit. When Ona had tried to purchase supplies following this incident, and found she had been denied credit, McNair had taken it out on her.

  Sean guessed she had lost some of her front teeth then from the way she had touched her lower lip and whispered. “He almost broke my jaw.” It had taken all he had within him to not further distress Ona by openly expressing the fury he felt upon learning what her late husband had done.

  She rejected his repeated offers to help her pay off another man’s debt so she could have credit in her own name once more. She assured him what she earned from him doing his laundry and cooking meals was enough to help her settle her debt quickly.

  But, it was not quickly enough. Sean was a full-grown man, and he knew what he wanted. Debt or not, he hoped the spirit of Christmas would help him overcome any reluctance towards him she might harbor.

  No need you carrying on about it, boyo. You’ll know by tomorrow, now won’t you?

  Sean stuffed his purchases in a tow sack and hauled them with him to the barber. He had not had a haircut or his beard trimmed since his first Sunday dinner at the McNair’s. He knew he was overdue. After the barber had worked his magic, Sean stopped at the bath house.

  It was good he had warned Ona he would be late for supper. He planned to stop by his cabin to change into a clean shirt, take care of the mules and start a fire in the new stove he finally let Magendie talk him into buying.

  He had ended up buying more than the single burner stove for cooking and to heat his home he had planned on. It had been a wonder he had managed to get the fancy four burner complete with an oven up to the cabin the previous night without Jesse around to witness him unload it. He also had a new bed with a metal frame and stuffed tick mattress in the same wagon.

  -o0o-

  The time for Christmas Eve dinner arrived, and Sean, his tow sack slung over his shoulder, knocked on the wood door to the McNair cabin. He once again wore the navy blue wool shirt he had washed the previous week, a shirt he had refused to wear for any other purpose than Sunday dinners with Ona and the boys. If he got what he wanted for Christmas, the coming year would be soon enough to wear the warm shirt to work in while the winter weather continued.

  Aye, but winters here be nothing like back East. ‘Tis balmy when compared.

  Still the wind could blow right through a man’s clothing and bite him with chill, and the rain could cut right through to a man’s skin and freeze him to the core.

  Two boys, their eyes twinkling with excitement, jerked the door open wide to greet Sean.

  Ona called from where she stood next to the stove. “Hurry and close the door, boys. You’ll let all the heat out. We lose enough through the canvas walls as it is.”

  Sean looked over at Ona, the love he felt for her radiating through his eyes. Once again, she wore her lovely navy blue dress with its white lace collar. Only now, Sean noticed, she no longer had the too-thin look of the half-starved. After a month and a half of eating enough healthy food and a menu with greater variety, she now filled out her dress so it fit her properly. Sean looked in appreciation at the way the fabric no longer bunched in pleats at the waist in back where she tied her apron strings and her bosom now filled out the front in a flattering way.

  “My nose be telling me ‘tis a feast awaiting us sure, sweet Ona.” An appreciative grin spread across Sean’s face, but he made a point to focus his eyes on hers when she turned to look at him.

  Ah, but her face be just as lovely as the rest of her, now isn’t it?

  “What’s in the sack, Mr. Flood?” A bouncing Benjy tugged on his arm. “Is it for us? Can I see?”

  Ona scolded gently. “You’ll be minding…mind your manners, Benjamin McNair. What he has in his bag is his business. If he wishes to show you, he will.”

  Sean cocked his eyebrow at her words. Once again, something about her comment to Benjy niggled at him. Was it because she spent so much time with him she sometimes slipped into a bit of a brogue? Before he turned his attention back to the boys, he glanced over at Ona who once more focused on meal preparation. Although Jesse had not said anything, it was apparent he was just as curious as his brother about the contents of his sack.

  “’Twill still be there later, boys. First we be enjoying what your ma be cooking for our Christmas Eve dinner.

  A heavy pad of folded cloth in her hands, she removed the heavy lid and rested it on its edge by the back leg of the stove. Before she could try to lift the base of the Dutch oven, Sean rushed to her side and took the cloth from her to lift the pot from the stove, all the while inhaling the tantalizing aroma.

  “’Tis smelling like a feast fit for a king. Sure ‘tis a fitting meal to celebrate the Lord’s birth.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I bought a small portion of cured ham. I diced it up fine and simmered it with herbs then mixed it with mashed potatoes. I baked it topped with a yellow cheese.”

  “Nay, you know I be wanting you to get what you think best. And what be in this pot?” Sean moved to the other side of the stove and used a wooden spoon to poke at a smooth orange-colored dish.

  “I made mashed winter squash flavored with butter, grated cone sugar and a bit of cinnamon. The other is green beans cooked with more of the diced ham. It is soft enough we can mash it with our forks.”

  “Sure it is you know the way to a man’s heart. You can wash your hands now, boys, whilst I finish helping your ma put dinner on the table.”

  “I’ll get the milk pitcher from the box outside,” Jesse offered. The box, Sean’s chest swelled with pride, he had made for Ona.

  “Thank you, Mr. Flood.” Ona smiled at Sean as he turned to take the pot of squash from her.

  Sean hesitated and eyed her, wondering why she addressed him so formally. For several weeks after the day they first kissed, she had seemed so warm and open to him. With the boys about, they had enjoyed few opportunities to share kisses, except for a quick embrace and kiss stolen when the boys were momentarily distracted with a task. Then, gradually, she changed. It seemed to Sean she grew more distant from him—quieter—and more formal when she spoke to him. The previous two weeks he had seriously pondered the possibility she had decided against him. He had come to the conclusion maybe she had tired of him personally, and wished he did not play such a big part in her life. He felt his heart sink inside his chest each time the thought entered his mind.

  After a blessing on the food, Sean focused on the meal before him. His praise of each dish grew effusive to the point Ona blushed in embarrassment. But, Sean couldn’t help himself. When he had been at home while his parents were still alive, they rarely had enough money or food for his mother to fix even one of the delicious dishes Ona served them, let alone all. And the ship’s cook on the way over had certainly never prepared meals like this for the poor immigrants. As for the Army, they often failed to feed their lowly soldiers enough food to fill them, let alone meals of this quality. What’s more, the food Ona cooked was prepared so he could easily gum his way through dinner, allowing the flavors and textures to tantalize his nose and slide over his tongue before he swallowed them.

  Sean felt he was in heaven when Ona topped off the meal with an apple pie. The soft apples surrounded by the tender crust melted in his mouth.

  After dinner, and with a teasing glint in his eyes, Sean held off the boys from discovering what was in his sack until he had directed them both to help him and their mother to clear the table and clean the dishes. Benjy cleaned the tabletop and swept the floor while Jesse chopped more kindling and brought in firewood. After Ona removed the leftover food, Sean insisted on scrubbing out the cast iron pots so she didn’t
need to lift them and risk any spills on her dress.

  Once the dishes were clean, and Sean and Jesse had helped dry them and put them away, Sean turned to the little family. “Now, ‘tis time to see what I brought in my sack.”

  “If it is something for Christmas, perhaps we should wait until tomorrow,” Ona suggested.

  “Oh, Ma…” The boys chorused their disagreement.

  “Mayhap some of it. But, methinks the boys may like to wear what they’ve earned working with me on my place these past weeks. ‘Twill keep them warm as we walk up to visit the mules this Christmas Eve day.”

  Sean pulled two wool coats out of the sack. The smaller dark blue one he handed to Benjy and the brown one he handed to Jesse.

  The boys burst into exclamations of joy and danced around the room as they pushed their arms into the sleeves of their new coats. Sean watched with a big smile and reached for Ona’s hand to pull her next to him. “They be a bit big, and the sleeves a bit long, especially on Jesse’s,” Sean said to her. “But the way the boys be growing ‘twill fit them right before we know it.”

  “Thank you, Sean. You didn’t need to buy the coats for them. I know it’s my responsibility. But, still, for their sakes, I appreciate it.”

  “Nay, Ona, they been working hard helping me, now haven’t they? They’ve earned them, and happy I be to see they get them.”

  Benjy ran over to Sean and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist. “Thank you, Mr. Flood. This coat will keep me real warm this winter. I know it will.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Flood.” Jesse was more hesitant about expressing his gratitude in the same manner as his brother, but his face revealed gratitude.

  Sensing this, Sean stuck out his hand. “We’ll shake on it, then, Jesse. ’Twas a job well done by you both. And Hattie and Boomtown be thanking you, too, for the grooming and extra oats in their buckets.”

  “Since you are passing out gifts now, I will go ahead and give you boys mine. It isn’t as fine as the coat you earned with Mr. Flood, but will help keep you warm, too.” Ona stepped over to the trunk at the side of the pallet where she slept and opened it long enough to pull out a bundle wrapped in a cloth. As she opened it, she handed the boys two pair of hand-knit gray wool socks each and a pair of gloves—leather for Jesse and knit for Benjy.

  “Why does Jesse get leather gloves?” asked Benjy.

  “He be older and be needing to chop kindling, now doesn’t he? ‘Tis hard on a man’s hand.” Sean spoke quickly to save Ona from having to possibly explain she hadn’t had enough money for two pair of leather gloves. She probably had been fortunate to scrape together enough money for the one pair.

  Clutching what remained of her bundle, Ona moved to a high shelf on the other side of the stove and pulled down a wooden box in which she stored some of her spices. From it she pulled out three hard peppermint sticks and gave one to each of the boys.

  “Thank you, Ma.” Fighting tears, Jesse hugged his mother. “This means I’m not too old for Christmas this year after all. I know the socks you made will keep me warm.”

  “Thank you, Ma. This is really good.” Benjy mumbled while sucking on the candy.

  “This one is for you, Mr. Flood.”

  There she was, being formal with him again. Sean shook his head. “Grateful I be, but save it for the boys.”

  Ona turned and put the box with the candy back in its place.

  “And this be for your ma,” Sean said as he pulled something new from his bag and handed it to Ona.

  Ona took the item from Sean and studied the novelty in her hand. She knew it must be some kind of a tool, but she was not sure what it was intended to do.

  “’Tis a masher. ‘Twill work faster and easier than you mashing the food with a fork. I know ‘tis a bit self-serving since you’ve been fixing food for me, too. But, I be hoping you like it, Ona.”

  A smile slowly blossomed on Ona’s face as she began to see the possibilities of the new kitchen tool. “Thank you, Sean. It is a fine gift and I’m grateful. It will make my work much easier. And I made something for you, too, which I hope you will find useful.”

  Ona pulled out the last item from her cloth wrapping and shook it loose before she handed it to Sean.

  “I know we rarely get snow, but it can still get cold here, especially with you working outside all day. I hope when you need to haul freight higher in the mountains, or on the days the wind picks up, you might find it useful.”

  With a sense of wonder, Sean slowly reached for the brown muffler knit from a heavier yarn than what Ona had used for the boys’ socks. “You made this for me then, did you?”

  A flicker of worry crossed Ona’s face. “Yes. Is it all right, Sean? Is it something you can use?”

  “Aye, love.” Sean assured her as he draped the muffler around his neck and flung one end over his shoulder. “’Tis a wonderful gift. ‘Twill come in handy many a day. ‘Tis grateful I am.”

  “Why did he call you ‘love,’ Ma?”

  “Because your ma be a lovely lady, now isn’t she, Benjy?” Sean turned to look deep into Ona’s eyes, his voice thick with meaning. “And I be having strong feelings for your ma.”

  “No.” Ona stared at her feet and shook her head as she spoke softly to Sean. “Please don’t say that. You don’t really know me. If you did, you wouldn’t feel the same about me.”

  Unable to keep his puzzled expression from showing, Sean spared the tortured look on Ona’s face only a few seconds of study before he turned to the boys. “Now you have your new coats on boys, let’s be taking a walk up to my place. You can be visiting the mules whilst I show your ma something. Will you come with me, then, Ona?”

  Oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between their mother and Sean, the boys cheered and ran towards the door, each trying to be the first to open it. Sean waited without moving, his gut beginning to tie in knots of worry, until he saw Ona nod her head. With the muffler still wrapped around his neck, Sean helped her wrap her shawl around her shoulders before he reached for his coat.

  She be needing something warmer than the shawl.

  With her hand securely resting in the crook of his arm, covered by his other hand so she wouldn’t be tempted to pull it free, the couple followed the boys up the hill towards Sean’s cabin. Ona’s last statement still echoed through Sean’s mind. He could not for the life of him figure out what she had meant by his not really knowing her, and not caring for her if he knew. But, he intended to find out.

  After all, he had sat through the eleven o’clock mass earlier that morning in order to talk to Fr. Aleric about his plans for the next day. He wanted nothing to interfere with them. He wanted nothing to prevent him from getting what he wanted more than anything in the world for Christmas.

  ~o0o~

  At the cabin, Sean first showed Ona and the boys the roof.

  “’Tis finished,” Sean declared with pride in his voice. “‘Tis snug and ‘twill keep the inside dry no matter how it might rain.”

  “It looks like a sturdy roof, Mr. Flood,” declared Jesse. “And, I bet Ma likes coming up to see this better than when you showed her your old necessary.”

  “Mayhap. But they both be adding comfort to our lives, now don’t they?”

  “Can we go inside?” Benjy asked with a tinge of whine. “This coat is real warm, but the wind is blowing cold.”

  Sean could feel the truth of Benjy’s words. He immediately pulled Ona to him, turning in an effort to block the wind with his body. “Aye, in a bit. But ‘tis off to the barn for the two of you for a few minutes to visit the mules. I have something to show your ma first.”

  Jesse cast Sean a questioning glance, then without a word he grabbed Benjy’s hand and started running towards the barn. Without releasing Ona, Sean turned her to face the cabin. He pushed the door open and guided her inside.

  Ona stood inside the closed door and looked around her in amazement. She had seen the inside of the cabin before it had its wood floor added and the roof
on. Now it not only was finished inside and out, but it was furnished.

  In spite of the two windows, the light inside was dim. Sean pulled Ona over towards the warmth of the wood stove in which he had left a banked fire while he found a candle and lit it. Ona sucked in her breath. In the increased light she could see Sean had bought the big fancy stove Mr. Magendie had proudly ordered in and had kept on display at the mercantile.

  “’Tis for you, Ona. A lone man like me nay be needing a fine cook stove with an oven, but you do. And, look.” Sean then took Ona’s hand and guided her to the other side of the room. Against the wall on the opposite side of the cabin from the stove Sean had set up the metal frame and mattress of the double bed. “I’m asking you to marry me, Ona. There be room up in the loft for the boys, but the bed be for us. I love you, Ona McNair. I love you and I love Jesse and Benjy. Will you make me the happiest man in the world by agreeing to be my wife? Tomorrow, on Christmas day? I spoke with the priest, and Fr. Aleric can marry us after Christmas mass.”

  Ona broke free of Sean’s grasp. She threw her hands over her face as she sucked in a sob. She turned from Sean and walked in a tight circle, allowing her fingers to slide down her face enough so her eyes could take in all Sean had accomplished on the inside of the cabin to fix it up—for her. When Sean stepped towards her, she stepped back. Once she felt confident he would not keep moving closer to her, she dropped her hands from her face and folded her arms tightly under her bosom.

  “It’s beautiful, Sean. You have fixed your place up wonderfully. And it means so much to know you did it for me.” Ona bit her bottom lip. Tears spilled out of eyes squeezed tight. “But, I can’t marry you, Sean. It wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone better than me, someone braver…more honest…I can’t.”

  Sean stood frozen in place. In spite of the resistance he had sensed the previous two weeks, her refusal stunned him. His confused mind tried to understand her declaration that marrying him wouldn’t be fair to him and he deserved better. By the time he could react to her running out the door, she was already gone.