Sweetwater Springs Scrooge: A Montana Sky Holiday Short Story (The Montana Sky Series) (6 page)

Elias hadn’t celebrated holidays since he and Marian had broken up; indeed, although he’d attended the church service, he’d withheld himself from the
spirit
of Christmas.

As he drove with Marian at his side, and the boy he’d come to care about tucked into blankets on the seat behind him, Elias felt a deep welling up of the joy he’d denied himself for so long. Unable to contain himself, he burst into song.

“The snow lay on the ground, the stars shone bright,

When Christ our Lord was born on Christmas night.

Venite adoremus Dominum.

Venite adoremus Dominum
.”

Marian stared at Elias, her eyebrows raised in astonishment. But then a familiar sparkle lit her blue eyes. Her lips turned up, and an elusive dimple flickered at the side of her mouth, one that he hadn’t seen in many years. Even when she’d smiled at other people, she hadn’t given that one—the happy turn up of her lips she’d reserved for him.

Relief loosened the knot in his stomach.

Marian glanced behind them to check on Noah; then she turned back and met Elias’s gaze. Her nose and cheeks were pink with cold, and she looked as animated as he remembered.

Hope filled him.
Maybe, just maybe, this outlandish plan of mine will work!

~ ~ ~

Walking into the spacious new hotel for the Christmas Eve party, Marian felt she could finally breathe. Here was beauty and gaiety, and no memories of Harold or Juliana. Although, she had to admit, the church service hadn’t been as difficult as she’d expected. Elias’s presence next to her, touching shoulder-to-shoulder, had brought her comfort, allowing her to almost enjoy the service—including singing her favorite Christmas carols and listening to the children’s choir with their sweet voices. Noah had seemed to enjoy the experience, telling her he wanted to join the choir. And such an air of excitement and good will infused the church service that she hadn’t even minded the curious glances that came her way.

When she shed her outerwear and gave them into the arms of a waiting servant girl, Marian felt as if she was also letting go of her grief.
For a time, at least.
She knew all too well the pain would find her again.

Carrying the red velvet gift bag of candy and cookies given to every family by Banker Livingston, she set herself to having a nice time. A few days earlier, Marian had taken Noah to the hotel to view the decorated Christmas tree when it first appeared in the front corner window, so she’d thought she’d known what to expect. But, in addition to the lavish decorations, the party atmosphere had transformed the huge lobby of the hotel, what with the happy mood of the people, the buzz of conversations, the excitement of children, the special treats, and the sense of community and camaraderie.

Although she and Elias started out together, they were swept apart by the tide of the party. She exchanged news with her friends, especially the ones she hadn’t seen since the snows had descended, keeping people homebound on outlying farms and ranches.

Even though Marian enjoyed her conversations, she also kept an eye on Elias, surprised to see him socializing. Sometimes, they moved together for a few minutes before the press of people pulled them away. Listening in, she heard him make an appointment with banker Caleb Livingston concerning the transfer of his funds from the bank in Crenshaw; discuss rancher Nick Sanders’s request to breed Prancer to one of his stallions; and have a sweet conversation about his mother with one of her old friends.

A new Elias had emerged from isolation into the welcoming embrace of Sweetwater Springs, as if the community had been waiting for him all these years.
Have I, too?

Pamela Carter, the wife of the most established rancher in the area, approached Marian as she stood near the punch bowl, a characteristic warm smile brightening her plain, plump-cheeked face. “It’s nice to see you looking happy when you’ve been grieving so,” she said, her tone kind.

“Thank you,” Marian murmured, not sure she wanted to discuss the reason for her good feelings.

“And I’m glad to see Mr. Masters so changed.”

So much for not discussing Elias.
She debated on revealing her dilemma about the frustrating man. Mrs. Carter was about fifteen years younger than Marian, and they weren’t close, although they were on friendly terms. The rancher’s wife didn’t have a speculative, gossipy air about her, though, which convinced Marian to unburden herself.

She leaned closer to Mrs. Carter. “You might not know our story. It happened long before you arrived in Sweetwater Springs.” She proceeded to give the woman some of the details—the vase, the disapproval he expressed toward her beloved pets, the ever-increasing thriftiness that tightened around her. When she saw only genuine interest and concern on Mrs. Carter’s face, Marian began to reveal her doubts that the changes Elias displayed wouldn’t last and he’d revert to his miserliness.

Mrs. Carter tilted her head. “Even if he were to become as you fear, you have your own money, isn’t that right?”

Marian nodded.

“You’re not dependent on him and, thus, could continue with the kind of financial life you want.”

The sensible words untwisted something inside Marian, and she let out the deepest sigh of relief her corset would allow.

“Perhaps you could talk to Mr. Masters and see how he
does
feel…if
he
believes he’s changed.”

“You’re right, Mrs. Carter.”

The woman reached out, took Marian’s hand, and squeezed. “After such a personal discussion, I feel we should be on a first name basis. Please call me Pamela.”

“And I’d love for you to call me Marian.”

Pamela leaned in and briefly pressed her cheek to Marian’s. “The best of Christmas luck to you.” With a twinkle in her eyes, she waved and turned to greet a trio of elderly ladies.

The sounds of harp music had people quieting and moving toward the Christmas tree. With his hand on the small of her back, Elias guided her to a good viewpoint, so Marian could see the harpist.

A slight woman wearing her long, pale hair loose, with a crown of silvery holly leaves on her head, sat in front of a huge instrument playing “Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella.”

The lilting music gave Marian a corresponding lift of her spirits. She became aware of happiness sparkling through her as warm and bright as the candlelight on the Christmas tree.

Not until the lovely dark-haired, violet-eyed soloist sang “Oh, Holy Night” did Marian realize she was in trouble. The beautiful, rich music caused a wave of sadness to well up in her, bringing tears to her eyes. She touched her brooch as if for comfort, feeling the sharp sapphires and smooth pearls under her fingertips—the pain and joy of her memories.

Like a shock of cold water pouring over her, Marian realized for the last hours she hadn’t been mourning.
How could I allow myself to feel happy when Juliana is gone? To be eager for the love of another man instead of dear Harold’s?
She clutched her grief tight, as if to hold her beloved ones close.

Marian tilted up her face to keep the tears from spilling and sniffed once, twice, but to no avail. The wave built, and she had to choke down a silent sob.

But she must have made a noise, for Elias glanced at her. His eyes narrowed in concern, and he slid an arm around her. “Come.” He discretely ushered her toward the back of the lobby, through the people who were so absorbed in the glorious singing that they barely glanced at the pair. He led her through a door into a conservatory where the windows were decorated in pine boughs. Faint moonlight spilled through the glass ceiling, illuminating a hanging kissing ball.

She set her velvet bag on a nearby wicker and glass table.

Elias gathered her into his arms.

Marian burrowed her face into his shoulder.

“Go ahead and cry, dearest.”

The comforting feel of his arms around her provided a reassuring feeling of safety, and Marian released the sobs she’d been trying to hold back.

With one hand, he rubbed circles along her back, holding her until the grief ebbed. “Is it Juliana?” Elias paused. “And Harold? You must be missing them.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She pulled away a few inches to look at him.

He brushed a thumb under her eye, wiping away a tear. “That’s quite an answer.”

A wobbling laugh escaped her. “I was happy and that felt wrong.” She let out a shuddering sigh and shook her head. “Foolish, I know.”

Elias leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Your daughter loved you very much. I’m sure she’d want you to be happy. As for Harold, what man likes to think of his wife with another?”

“A dying man,” Marian answered. “Harold didn’t like the thought of leaving me alone. He encouraged me to marry again. Although he did use the word
wisely
,” she said wryly.

Elias laughed, tossing back his head, and enticed a chuckle from her.

Leaning against his shoulder, Marian sniffed back her tears and fished a handkerchief from her sleeve. She mopped her eyes and blew her nose. “I must look a fright.”

“Yes,” Elias said playfully. “I’m about to run from you in horror.” His arms tightened around her back.

She wrinkled her nose and realized they were standing in a compromising position.
Good thing the program was still going on, or surely someone would have discovered us. I would die of embarrassment!
Marian motioned toward two side-by-side wicker chairs.

Elias released her, only to take hold of her hand and lead her to them. Hooking the leg of one chair with his foot, he dragged it closer to the other so he wouldn’t have to let her go. Still holding hands, they sat down, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Marian inhaled the scent of pine and then asked the question she’d been wondering for so many years. “Why, Elias? Why did you turn away from the world? Deny yourself companionship and pleasure?”

“I guess…I was punishing myself.”

Marian tilted her head in askance.

“When you ended our engagement, I told myself that it was for the best. Since I’d wanted a frugal life…indeed, I turned my back on you after we’d parted to have what I thought I wanted…” He gave a curt nod. “Then, by golly, I’d better
live
that miserable life to the very last squeezed penny.”

“But why did you even want that kind of life?”

“I’ve given that question a lot of thought lately…. The day he died of a heart attack, my father yelled at me for buying candy and a slingshot at the store without first asking permission. I thought it was my fault—”

“He died because you bought the candy,” Marian finished for him and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Elias, if only you’d told me.”

He hesitated. “I don’t think I would have held out long if you hadn’t married Harold so soon.”

Guilt seized her. “You could have stopped me.”

“Biggest mistake of my life,” Elias said with a wry quirk of his mouth. “I promise you, I’ve learned my lesson. Remember, even Ebenezer Scrooge changed at the end. And he didn’t have the incentive of pretty Marian Hutchinson Williams.”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I intend to remain in charge of my own money.”

He grinned and squeezed her hand. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Taken aback, Marian stared at him. Harold had left her comfortably provided for, and she’d have thought Elias would assume she was still a spendthrift and want to include her money with his own in order to manage their funds.

“We’ll make a visit to Crenshaw and see a lawyer,” Elias said. “He can draw up documents so you legally keep your money and your house and any other assets you may have.”

“That wouldn’t bother you?”

“I wouldn’t have made the suggestion if it did.”

She relaxed. “Such an arrangement would ease my mind.”

“Will you be patient with me if I momentarily fall into bad habits?” His eyes shadowed with old pain. “Not…not leave?”

She placed her palm over his heart, feeling the rapid beat under her fingers. “I promise.”

Elias grinned. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her fingertips. “Then I’m satisfied.”

~ ~ ~

When Elias halted Prancer at her home, the harness bells stilled, and the hush of the night descended.

Marian turned to check on her grandson, snuggled under a striped Indian blanket, only to see the child had fallen asleep. “Noah,” she called softly, reaching over the seat to shake his knee. “Wake up.”

The boy didn’t move.

“Let me.” Elias grabbed the horse blanket from around their feet. He climbed down from the sleigh, flipped the reins over the hitching post, and flung the blanket over the horse, fastening the front buckle. Next, he walked to the back seat, leaned in, and scooped up Noah, blanket and all.

Marian slid out from under the blanket on her side. She hurried around the back of the sleigh and up the walkway. Opening the door to the cold house, she lit the lamp on a table by the door and carried it before her.

Noah stirred with a sleepy grumble, then raised his head and gave them a heavy-eyed look.

“Come into the kitchen, where hopefully it’s warmer.” Marian led the way there. Once in the room, she took off her muff and dropped it on the table opposite the feast Elias had sent over earlier. She’d left the food out, knowing the kitchen would chill.
Not that I could fit the turkey in the icebox, anyway.