Colorado Dawn (41 page)

More encouraging, the lights of Martin City lay below. Warmth, comfort, food. A respite from worry.

A toboggan would be nice about now. The final trek to the Mackenzie house down the gentle incline of what the locals called Sluice Box Hill brought back fond memories of sledding parties that Sam had attended as a youth. How nice it would be to sit down on a toboggan and let it slide them all the way to the base of the hill, as he’d done a hundred times before.

Sam’s lungs burned, and he forced his legs to move forward. Several times they stopped to rest, but after only a few minutes, he goaded them on, feeling like an ogre but knowing they couldn’t quit until he had them all safe.

He could make out the outline of his parents’ home, his memory filling in the details that were too dark to see. Gingerbread trim, turrets, balconies, the widow’s walk on the mansard roof. Lights blazed from the lower-floor windows, drawing him forward.

“We’re almost there, David. I can see the house.” Karen’s voice, encouraging her husband even though she must be ready to drop, drifted through the night air. Sam’s already-considerable admiration for his sister-in-law grew. Not once on this horrific journey had she complained.

But that could be said of all of them. If kids came any tougher than Phin, Celeste, and Tick, he’d never met them. They soldiered on doggedly, manfully in Phin’s case, helping David over tricky bits, taking orders without argument or sulks. Life was like that sometimes, offering watershed moments or experiences that set people on the paths they were going to follow all their lives. Sam knew that with the right influences, Phin would be a son to be proud of.

He nearly tripped at that thought.
A son to be proud of
.

And what of Tick? So sick and yet always optimistic, always sunny. Lying in a hospital bed or enjoying his first piece of candy in months, the same smile. Bravely clinging to Sam’s back as they wallowed in snow or skidded down a slope. Taking his medicine without complaint, and never once questioning why God allowed his health to be so fragile. A family was missing out on a gem by not adopting Tick.

Sam cast a glance back to check everyone’s progress. Buckford fought his way along Sam’s trail, easing the way for Karen to follow. Behind him, Phin picked his route, searching in the moonlight for the gentlest path. David’s hand no longer lay on Phin’s shoulder. Instead, Celeste—abandoning Eldora somewhere along the way—walked beside him, helping him and probably drawing comfort at the same time.

The bond between David and Celeste was beautiful to see, the blind man and the scarred girl. Might that not be an answer? If David and Karen had truly lost their hearts to the little girl, Sam couldn’t see them letting her go to an orphanage. In spite of the aching cold and exhaustion mauling him, Sam smiled. He might’ve gained a niece on this trip.

Behind them all, Eldora trudged along, her head down. Even from here he imagined he could see the stubborn tilt of her jaw, the light of independence glowing in her brown eyes. How he longed to batter down those defenses, to make her see herself as he saw her—not as a charity case or an ugly duckling, but as a brave, selfless, beautiful woman.

“We’re almost there.” Less than a quarter mile to the house. Tired as he was, renewed energy surged through his muscles when he mounted the last ridge of snow and dropped onto the packed ruts of the plowed road. He lifted the lantern higher to light the way.

Finally, Sam led them through the gate and up to the front door. He was so cold not even the rush of warm air that gusted against his cheeks when he opened the door penetrated. The lamplight made his eyes sting, and he blinked. “Mother? Father? We’re home.”

“Sam?” Mother’s voice from the parlor. Something thumped, her skirts rustled, and her footsteps pattered.

His shoulders relaxed, and he eased Tick down onto the chair in the foyer. He braced himself for Mother’s embrace, though he was so stiff with cold he could barely raise his arms.

Mother hugged him. “How—where—we thought—” Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “You’re alive?”

He stepped to the side, taking her with him. “Not just me…look.” One by one, the rest of the group dragged in, snow encrusted and cold numbed.

“Karen, David…Buckford!” She blinked, sending fresh tears over the edge, and she clung to Sam as if her knees were giving way. Trembling, her gaze swung back to his face. “Praise God. Your father is in town trying to gather men to form a rescue party.”

“We’re here. Cold, tired, and hungry, but we made it. There was an avalanche, took out the train. But we can talk about that later. First, there are some folks you need to meet. These are the kids David telegraphed you about, and this is Eldora, who is taking care of them.”

“Of course.” Mother shook her head and pushed out of his arms. “Where are my manners? Come in, all of you.” She called for Mrs. Morgan from the back of the house. “Start running the bathwater and preparing a meal. Then I want you to send one of the maids into town and rouse the doctor. He can check everyone over, especially Karen and these children.” Mother burst into action.

On her way up the stairs ahead of Mother, Eldora looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes filled with thanks but loaded with questions, too. Right now he was too tired to formulate any answers. It was enough that they were safe and soon to be warm.

E
ldora, wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!” A small hand pressed against her cheek and then shook her shoulder.

She cracked one eye.

Tick.

She stretched, her muscles still aching from their snowy ordeal. Pressing her elbows into the mattress, she levered herself up.

“Come on! We’re waiting!” Tick tugged on her sleeve, jostling her when she went to rub her eyes.

Phin and Celeste waited at the half-open door, each bundled into a wrapper and slippers. “I’ve had my medicine and everything. Sam sent us up to get you.”

Sam. Her heart beat thick and fast. The man who had saved all their lives had been conspicuous by his absence. When he did return to the house, most of his time was spent with bent heads and private conversations with his brother and parents.

“How is Karen this morning?” She sat up, holding the bedclothes to her chin, luxuriating in the feather-tick and down comforter a moment longer.

“She’s downstairs, too. Wait till you see the tree. There’s a whole tree right in the house.” Tick’s eyes glowed like candle flames, and a flush decorated his cheeks. Jesse Mackenzie’s surprise was paying off in delight already.

“All right.” She grinned and mussed his hair. “I’m coming. Scram so I can get dressed.”

With chilly fingers she shoved buttons through buttonholes and put up her hair. The past couple of days had been a time of drifting, of recovery, and this morning belonged to the children, but by this afternoon she would need to make some sort of plan for their future. She drew a breath against the anvil of anxiety sitting on her chest and opened the door.

Tick grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall. Phin and Celeste hurried ahead. All four stopped in the parlor doorway. A fir tree, taller than she was, sat in the corner, festooned with paper chains and candles and ropes of popcorn and red berries. Its piney scent reached her, mingled with the spicy aroma of apples and cinnamon.

“Good morning.” Sam’s mother rose and came toward her. “I wish we could’ve let you sleep longer, but the children are near to bursting as it is, not to mention Jesse. I’m not sure who is most excited.”

Their generosity overwhelmed her.

Sam leaned against the corner of the mantel, a cup of cider in his hand. His cheeks creased in a smile. “Happy Christmas, Eldora.”

“And to you.” Seeing him, knowing their time together was growing small, was bittersweet, but she vowed not to let it show, to enjoy the morning and face the future when she had to. If their trek down the mountain had taught her anything, it was that God would light her path when the time came. There was no need to borrow trouble.

Karen, bundled from neck to toes in a thick robe and slippers, sat beside David on the settee.

Eldora took the chair next to her. “How are you this morning?”

“Fine. Still tired, but the contractions have stopped. I was worried there for a while, but the doctor says it was the overexertion. If I take it easy, things should be fine. David and his mother have fussed over and cosseted me so much, I haven’t lifted a finger since we got here.”

David took her hand and raised it to his lips. He leaned close and murmured something against her hair that made her eyes sparkle.

“Now that everyone is here, we can begin.” Jesse’s voice boomed with good cheer. “We’re so thankful that all of you are with us today, we decided to do things a bit out of order for us and start the festivities with the reading of the Christmas story instead of waiting until this evening.” The children clustered at his feet as he opened his Bible.

Nostalgia and longing swept over Eldora, taking her back to when she had been a child at her father’s knee, hearing him recount the nativity on a snowy Christmas morning. Back before the orphanage, before the responsibility of these three children, before Sam. Back when she was part of a family.

When she was loved.

When she was Ellie.

At the conclusion of the reading, Jesse prayed a blessing on each one in his household. Then, like a boy, he clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Who’s ready for some presents?”

The gifts rained down. Toys, clothing, books, candy. Her debt to this family increased with each happy squeal. And yet, how could she deprive the kids of this joy when their future was so uncertain? They might as well store up a few happy memories against the time when they must leave here.

It puzzled her that the adults didn’t exchange gifts, while at the same time it was a relief, as she had nothing to contribute. Her life in miniature, always receiving, never able to give. Perhaps they withheld their gifts to one another out of deference to her inability to reciprocate. Another kindness from this remarkable family that made her throat thicken.

Each time Jesse handed a gift to Celeste, she took it right to David and Karen, opening it on David’s lap and whispering her thank-yous into their ears. Tick bounced between Phin and Sam, too excited to sit still, while Phin kept shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Every so often he would look Eldora’s way, as if asking her how to deal with such bounty. She could read in his eyes the same doubts she felt, as if all this was a temporary dream and reality would come crashing in at any moment. If only she could shore up his confidence.

Sam stayed by the fireplace until the last present was opened and exclaimed over. Shoving himself away from the mantel, he came to stand before the tree while Matilda handed out cups of cider. Sam raised his glass. “Happy Christmas to you all.”

Everyone responded in kind and raised their cups.

Eldora sipped the warm cider, breathing in the heady aroma of spiced apples and savoring it on her tongue.

“Now, David, I believe you and Karen have an announcement.”

David rose, holding Karen’s hand, and reached out for Celeste’s. “That’s right. Karen and I, with Eldora’s permission of course, would like to adopt Celeste as our daughter.” He turned his face toward the little girl. “Celeste, would you like that? Would you like to come live with us and be our girl?”

If he could’ve seen her face, he wouldn’t have needed to ask the question. Her china-blue eyes went round, and her lashes flicked over them a few times. She dropped his hand and threw herself against him, staggering him.

A wide grin spread over his face, and he hugged her tight.

Karen wiped her eyes. “I know we should’ve asked you first, Eldora, seeing as how you are her guardian, but we wanted it to be a Christmas surprise. You don’t have any objection, do you?”

Eldora scrabbled for her handkerchief. “Of course I don’t. This is wonderful. I wondered how I was going to pull her away from you both.”

They clasped hands, crying and laughing at the same time.

“You know we’ll see to it she has the surgery Sam told us about. We’ll do everything we can to see she has a normal, happy life. I’m still amazed at how quickly I fell in love with her, but even more amazed at the bond she and David formed almost immediately.”

“I know. She’s never opened up like that before. I have no qualms about you adopting her. You’ll make a wonderful family.” A pang ripped through Eldora’s heart, and she glanced at Tick and Phin to see how they were taking the news.

The wistful longing in Tick’s eyes made her feel hollow and inadequate. Phin had his hands shoved in his robe pockets, and he toed the carpet with his shoulders hunched.

She set down her cup to go to them, but Sam forestalled her. “Glad to know I’m getting a new niece.” He raised his cup to Celeste. “And that you’re getting a new grandchild sooner than we thought.” A nod to his parents, who beamed. “I have a little announcement of my own to make.”

Everyone stilled.

“For a while now, I’ve felt that something was missing in my life. I thought I had found that something when I met Yvette Adelman, but I soon realized what a mistake I was making. When I broke my engagement, I thought I’d just have to live with that empty feeling. Then Aunt Tabitha stepped in.” He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “When she asked me—or should I say ordered me—to look after a woman and three children on the train from St. Louis to Denver, I thought, ‘How hard can it be?’ ” Spreading his hands wide, he shrugged. “Fights, fainting, arrests, hospitals, jails, avalanches, and treks up and down snowy mountains later…”