A Home for Christmas Grace (Preview)

Chapter One

Every night, Clara dreamed of New York. She saw herself walking through the park, arm in arm with James, and the snow falling at Christmas time. She saw her childhood as if she was an outside witness to it, difficult but happy. She saw her mother’s smile, she saw the busy shops, and she saw what hard work looked like. She remembered being cold and hungry, but she remembered that she was happy.

And every morning, she awoke and found herself in St. Louis. Her bed here was comfortable, and her room held practical things, rather than childhood toys. Her room was also all hers. There was no husband, no mother, no child that she had once dreamed of.

St. Louis was so different from New York, and she was still getting used to it. She had always lived with one other person, and that was it. She didn’t remember her father, and after her mother passed, there was James. But now, the walls surrounding her were filled with memories. On the other side of her room was the dorm where the orphans slept, not always peacefully.

Clara knew what it was like to not sleep peacefully. If someone did not know the inner workings of her life, they would assume that perhaps she had been lucky. A father gone young but a mother who was able to work hard and take care of her, and a husband who had loved her until the end of his days.

But now, she was alone.

Except she wasn’t entirely alone. Her Aunt Hannah was her saving grace, as she had been the saving grace of so many orphans. Hannah had never been married, but she found love in other ways. At 49, she ran one of the most successful and caring orphanages that St. Louis, Missouri had ever seen. The children, some of whom had never known love and kindness, found a home with Aunt Hannah. She fed them well, kept them warm, encouraged their education and their interests and made it her goal to find loving families for them as soon as she could. Hannah seemed to have a magic touch when it came to finding the family that was perfect for the children. She knew that her orphanage did not have unlimited space, and as much as the children loved it here, they found families and their forever homes much faster than other orphanages, thanks to Hannah’s magical touch.

The dawn light was seeping in, and Clara rolled away from it. Since it was her first few days here, Hannah hadn’t put any requests on her time yet, although Clara knew they would come once she settled in.

She heard the birds begin to chirp louder and knew that she should probably rise before the children did.

The room was simple, but it suited her just fine. The wood panels were older than she had imagined, as was the whole house, but Clara found it cozy. The fire was smoldering, albeit much lower than it was when she went to bed.

Clara went to the wash basin, splashing the water on her face a few times before reaching for the towel. She picked up the towel, which, like the house it lived in, was old but still serving its purpose.

Her hairbrush that she had treasured so much as a wedding gift sat on the table beside the wash basin. It was real silver, something that she thought was going to be her most treasured possession. There was a time when she thought she would have to sell it to survive, and the silver was now tarnished, the bristles a bit frayed. Still, she loved it because of the memories attached to it.

Clara undid the plait in her hair and brushed the long wavy brown strands that fell around her shoulders. She simply wanted to look presentable; nothing more.

She hadn’t brought much with her from St. Louis. She had sold probably more than she needed to, but in many ways, she wanted to leave her old life behind.

Her green dress would be good enough for today. It was a bit worn, as it was one of the first ones she had owned as an adult, but it would be fine for a day or getting to know the children and perhaps helping Hannah with any light tasks she had.

The polished glass in front of her shone with the morning sunlight. Hannah had thought that it might crack in transport and she was hesitant to bring it at all. Her eyes still had dark circles from the sleepless nights, and her hair seemed to never be perfect, no matter how often she plaited it and plaited it again.

Finally, she could not delay anymore. She was dressed and washed, and her stomach was growling.

With a deep breath, she put a smile on her face and made her way quietly down the stairs, as the children were still sleeping. It wasn’t that anyone in the house was unpleasant. It was simply that her soul did not yet feel ready to smile in the mornings.

“Well, good morning.” Aunt Hannah was already up and bustling around the kitchen. Clara had been surprised to learn that aside from a man who came to tend the garden and a woman who came into the laundry, Aunt Hannah did everything herself. She cooked, she cleaned, she took care of the children, she walked some of them to and from school, and she tucked them at night. Even though she said that she enjoyed all of it, Clara could see that she needed help. “How did you sleep?”

“As well as any other night,” Clara replied.

“Any nightmares?” Aunt Hannah asked and Clara looked away.

“Is there anything I can do to help this morning?”

“I keep telling you, not yet, not yet” Aunt Hannah said.

“Aunt Hannah, it’s been almost a week,” Clara protested. “I must be able to help, to earn my keep.”

“First of all, there’s no keep to earn,” Hannah assured her. “You are my guest here, as long as you like. But if you insist on helping, why don’t we officially say we can start tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Clara agreed. “Bright and early.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Hannah replied. “Now, would you like some breakfast?”

“My goodness, let me at least serve myself,” Clara said, but Hannah put a bowl down in front of her before she could even say another word. The oatmeal was steaming hot, and there were berries stirred in from the garden. No matter what kind of mood Clara was in, she couldn’t resist oatmeal with fresh berries. A memory overtook her as she picked up her spoon. “My mother used to make it like this.”

“I know,” Hannah said, and a small but sad smile overtook her face. “It was my sister who first had the idea when we were children. Our mother would always send us out to the woods to pick fresh berries, but they would often remain in a bowl as dessert. One day, at breakfast, she grabbed a handful and just dumped them in. We ate it that way until we were grown whenever berries were in season.”

Clara smiled sadly as well.

“It’s nice to share memories of her,” she said. “After she died, I felt like…there was no one I could talk about her to. At church, everyone gave their condolences and then just…moved on. And fair enough, there was so much illness going through the community that everyone was focused on their own grief; everyone knew someone who died. It felt like the church had just cleaned up from one funeral and they would turn around and set up for the next one.”

“As is life,” Hannah said. “Although you know that all too well.”

“I do,” Clara said with a sigh. “I sometimes feel as if the reaper is following me; as if I have done something to offend him.”

“We mustn’t think like that,” Aunt Hannah said. “Now, you should eat before the oatmeal gets cold.”

Clara dug in, the darker thoughts leaving her mind as the warm oatmeal began to fill her belly. In the silence of the kitchen, with only Aunt Hannah and the fire crackling, she felt like perhaps it would be possible to heal again.

“At least let me do my own washing up,” she said to her aunt when she was done. “You’ll have enough when the children get up.”

Hannah met her eyes and then smiled.

“Alright, you’ve worn me down,” she said. “But just your own.”

Clara rose, taking her cup, bowl and spoon with her, and went to the sink. It almost felt like she was at home again, and life was normal.

It only took the voice of a small child, a few moments later, for her to realize that it wasn’t.

“Miss Hannah, I had a nightmare,” said a little blonde girl. Clara thought that her name was Sarah, although she couldn’t be sure. There were so many of them.

“Ah, well, goodness me, not to worry,” Hannah put down what she was doing immediately, and went to the child, sweeping her up. “It’s morning now, so there’s no reason to be afraid.”

If there were stereotypes about terrible orphanage mistresses, it certainly didn’t come from Hannah. Every moment that Clara had observed her with the children, Hannah had put them above all else. It didn’t matter what else she was doing, or whether her hands were full or wet or dirty. She would just wipe them on her apron and then pick up the child as if it were the most important thing in the world. And, Clara thought, it was.

Clara didn’t want to intrude on the moment, so she kept her back to them after the first look, washing her dishes a few more times than they needed. However, after a few moments, Sarah’s cries were soothed, and she heard Hannah put her down.

“Would you like to say good morning to Miss Clara?” she asked, and Clara turned around, almost as shy as Sarah was.

“Good morning, Miss Clara,” Sarah said. Clara thought that the young girl couldn’t be more than 4 years old, and her heart went out. As an adult, being alone in the world without parents was hard enough. Clara couldn’t imagine doing it at 4 years old, when her mother had been her whole world.

“Good morning, Sarah, isn’t it?” Clara said, wiping her hands on her apron and bending down to the child’s level. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Sarah nodded, immediately captivated.

“I have nightmares, too,” Clara said, softly. “I understand what it’s like.”

“You do?” Sarah asked, amazed that this happened to more than one person.

“Yes,” Clara said. “I miss my mother, too.”

“Then we are the same,” Sarah said, and wrapped her arms around Clara’s knees in a hug. Clara was a little surprised but returned the hug, as she met Hannah’s eyes.

“We are,” Clara said softly.

The morning light was still soft enough that there were shadows dancing across the kitchen. Just for a moment, Clara could have sworn she saw her mother, who had never lived here, smiling at her from the living room. It was brief enough that Clara only had to blink and she was gone. However, despite the fact that her eyes had cleared, she still felt the smile giving her more warmth than the still rising sun.

“Come on, Sarah,” Hannah said. “Let’s get you breakfast. You can have your pick of places at the table before the others get up.”

Sarah seemed very excited by this prospect and left Clara right away, rushing to the table as if the chairs would disappear. Clara smiled and turned back to drying the dishes, listening to the sounds of the house as the other children started to rise. Living here would certainly be an adjustment, but it was exactly where she needed to be right now.

“You know,” Aunt Hannah said. “You can talk to me about anything that you want to.”

“I know,” Clara said. “Do not feel as if I am hiding things just to…I just am processing it all myself.”

“Yes, you’ve had quite a shock,” Aunt Hannah replied. “But it won’t be like this forever. Your body will adjust, and your heart will too.”

“I just…” Clara took a deep breath. “Sometimes it seems like the reaper chose me. Like he follows me around. I was almost afraid to come here because I was worried that he would follow me here too.”

“You must not feel that way, my dear,” Aunt Hannah replied. “God is testing you, but you are stronger than this.”

“I hope so,” she replied.

But true to Aunt Hannah’s word, the next day was easier. When Sarah came down for breakfast, Clara felt her smile come more easily, and she felt the chores start to come to her more naturally.

“Look at you,” Aunt Hannah said with a grin as Clara took the laundry out on the 4th day without so much as blinking. “You’re even getting stronger.”

“Well, that and it was sitting in the middle of the hallway,” she said. “I nearly tripped over it. But yes, the basket is easier to lift today.”

“By day five, you’ll be able to lift three children and the basket,” Aunt Hannah said and Clara laughed.

“I don’t know, maybe,” she replied. “But…I did sleep without nightmares last night.”

“Is that the first time?”

“It’s the first time in a long time,” Clara admitted. “First there were the nightmares about my mother. When I was with James, it was alright. But then after he was gone…the nightmares about him and her were coming at me from every angle. There were nights I did not sleep at all.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Aunt Hannah replied. “I am glad that I can provide you a place to heal.”

Clara smiled at her as she hauled the wet laundry outside. It was heavier, but her arms did not ache as much.

There was a cool breeze blowing through the property, and the clothesline swung gently in the wind as she hung up the laundry, piece by piece. Aunt Hannah had warned her that being in an orphanage meant the laundry was never ending.

Still, it was a sort of mindless piece that she had about her as she hung up the sheets and clothes piece by piece. They smelled fresh, and she felt the weight of the world off her shoulders as she used the clothes pins to go down the line. There were actually more clothes than there were lines, but she got a sense of satisfaction from hanging it up, and she started to use tree branches around her, pinning sheets among apples and little baby shirts to budding greens.

She heard a giggle behind her and saw a few of the children standing by the door, half amazed and half amused.

“What?” she asked, with a teasing smile. “Will they not dry just as well?”

“We’ve never seen anyone do it like that,” Sarah said. “They look like ghosts in the wind.”

“Not scary ghosts,” Clara said as she picked up the empty basket. “Now they will all dry faster and we won’t have to do this twice.”

“We could hang sheets from the roof!” one said, and they erupted in giggles.

“We could hang them outside my room from the window!” another said. Clara rolled her eyes as she led them inside.

However, even though she thought they were very silly, she also thought their laughter was exactly what she needed. By supper time, even though the day had already been long, Clara was bustling around singing hymns under her breath and she didn’t even mind when one of the children spilled their cup three times.

“See,” Aunt Hannah said as they cleaned up after supper. “I told you things would start to get lighter.”

“They are,” she said with a grin. “Although I wasn’t sure what you would think of my creative drying skills.”

“I’m open to whatever gets the job done,” Hannah said. “And it gave the children a laugh.”

“And everything is dry,” Clara replied. “Although I know we will have to do it again tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Aunt Hannah replied. “But for now, once the dishes are washed, you really should go to bed. I still want you to be gentle on yourself, Clara. You’ve had quite a shock.”

“You see…” Clara paused. “I want to be happier at night. Because at night is when it becomes hard again. I think the days are getting easier, certainly, and then I go to bed alone, and blow out the candle and…”

“I understand,” Aunt Hannah said. “But you have to take the happy memories with you too. It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

“Did you…love?” Clara asked, and Aunt Hannah smiled.

“Ah, that’s a story for another time,” she replied. “For now, finish the last one in the sink and then don’t worry, I’ll do the rest.”

“Thank you,” Clara replied. “I really appreciate you and everything you have done for me.”

“I have a feeling you will be a great help to me, my dear, so we can appreciate each other,” Aunt Hannah said. “But for now, I think that you are exactly where you need to be.”

“Yes,” Clara said as she finished the last dish and took the candle to go to bed. “Yes, I think I am.”

The shadows did not seem as dark tonight when she walked upstairs. She was sleeping as soon as her head hit the pillow, and this time, she slept through the night. She didn’t dream of pleasant things; but she didn’t dream of anything at all, and that was fine by her.

The days started to melt away, and soon, Clara felt like everything was easier; every morning came smoother, and every night was easy.

“Clara,” Hannah’s voice came through the house. “Would you mind getting the sheets in before it rains?”

“Of course not,” Clara said, as she put away the last of the dishes. “I was thinking of doing it anyway, it is almost dark outside.’

“Yes, where has the day gone,” Hannah said with a smile on her face. “The hours slip away when your hands aren’t idle.”

“It seems that just a few minutes ago it was morning,” Clara agreed as she headed out into the backyard. It had been several weeks since she arrived, and while her moments of sadness still echoed in her thoughts, she was starting to feel like a new person. Hannah had finally let her help as much as she could, and Clara was glad of it. She was certain that keeping her mind busy was a large part of her healing.

She also couldn’t believe that her nearly 50-year-old Aunt had been doing all of this alone for so many years. The dishes, the childcare, the sleepless nights, the nursing when one of them was ill, the schedule of school and the endless dishes. Even with the garden taken care of and the clothes washed, it was still an impossible task. Yet, Hannah woke every day with boundless energy, as if they hadn’t gone to bed exhausted the night before.

Outside, it was darker than it usually was at this time of day. There was a storm rolling in, and Clara felt the first drops of rain on her head as she pulled the last bed sheet off the line. Normally, the laundress would take the sheets too, but with young children, washing more than once a week was sometimes necessary.

Today, both women had stayed home all day, as the older children were accompanied to and from school by a nearby parent. It wasn’t an everyday situation, but it was a welcome favour when it did occur.

Since Clara had arrived, they had also gotten three more children, and it felt like the house was bursting at the seams. Every bed was occupied and most were shared. Hannah had accepted donations of more dishes from the neighbours, and although none of them matched, they were used every day.  Although Clara wasn’t grateful for the tragedy in her life, she felt like she had come at just the right time.

“Oh good,” Hannah said, as Clara came in with the laundry basket. “Just in time.”

A thunderclap punctuated her words and Clara smiled.

“Indeed,” she said. “I felt the drops and raced against time. Do you want me to put them back on the bed right away?”

“Leave them for a moment,” Hannah said. “Take a seat and make yourself a cup of tea. There’s something that I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” Clara replied and put the basket down. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter,” Hannah replied. “It’s just there is a favour I want to ask you, and I want you to carefully consider it before you say yes.”

“Aunt Hannah, I will do anything for you,” Clara replied. “For you have given me so much.”

“That’s lovely dear, but sit for a moment,” Hannah said, and Clara felt her heart skip a beat. Was something the matter? Was Aunt Hannah sick and going to ask her to take over the orphanage?

She didn’t look sick, and Clara knew that was a rather dramatic conclusion, but she couldn’t help but skip to the worst possible thing. After all, major loss seemed to populate her life.

Clara poured herself a cup of tea as instructed and took a seat, but her heart rate continued to rise. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to take a single sip until Hannah told her what was the matter.

“Now,” Hannah said. “You may have noticed that this house is full to the brim, especially with the new arrivals.”

“I have noticed,” Clara replied meekly, and her mind started whirling again. Aunt Hannah wasn’t going to ask her to take over the orphanage; she was going to ask her to move out to make room for the children. And why shouldn’t she, Clara thought to herself. She was a grown woman who should learn to take care of herself, not rely on her aunt’s charity and take space from young orphans. “I can go in the morning.”

Hannah gave her a strange look.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Clara felt her heart leap to her throat. It was true; she would need to lose another home.

“Well, it’s obvious,” Clara replied. “The house is full, and you could easily put six children in my room.”

“Put them in your…?” Hannah looked confused. “Where will you sleep when you come back then?”

“Come…back?” Now it was Clara’s turn to be confused. “Don’t you want me to move out?”

Hannah made a noise somewhere between a laugh and cough.

“Move out?” she said in shock. “No, I don’t want you to move out.”

“Then why were you…but…” Clara sputtered, trying to make sense of the conversation they just had. “You said…”

“Clara, Clara, dear,” Hannah patted her hand. “Drink your tea. This is your home. I will never ask you to move out.”

“I … .so what is the favour then?” Clara asked as the tea cooled rapidly in front of her. To make it look like she wasn’t completely shaken, she reached for a sugar cube and plunked it in her tea. If Hannah noticed, she didn’t comment on the fact that Clara never took sugar in her tea.

“You may have heard at church, but there was a fire in the next town over,” Hannah said. “A row house with six young children burned to the ground.”

“I did hear,” Clara replied and crossed herself. “I couldn’t imagine.”

“God was watching and preserving what he could,” Hannah replied. “All six children survived the fire.”

“Thank the Lord,” Clara said and then realized the weight of her aunt’s words. “But not…not their parents?”

“No, unfortunately not,” Hannah said. “six more poor orphans in the world.”

“Goodness,” Clara replied. “So are we taking them in? Where will we put them? If you need them to share my room…”

“We can find places for them for a night or two,” Hannah replied. “But after that, they will be headed to Cedar Creek, Colorado. There’s a minister there who has offered to foster them until they can be adopted.”

“But how will they get there?” Clara asked, confused. “Colorado is so far away. Will he come for them?”

“This is where the favour comes in,” Hannah replied. “I’d like you to accompany the children on the train to the minister’s house and stay away until they are settled in.”

“Oh, is that all?” Clara burst out, grateful, and Hannah gave her a strange look.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “And you could be gone quite a while. I’m aware it isn’t a little favour to ask, and so if you don’t want to…”

“Aunt Hannah, after all you have done for me,” Clara replied. “Of course I will accompany the children. It’s no problem at all. I am just grateful you are not ill or don’t want me to move out.”

Hannah couldn’t help but smile.

“My goodness, what goes on in that head of yours,” she said. “No, my dear, I think you and I shall be here together for quite some time. That is, until you perhaps, meet someone again.”

“Oh,” Clara replied, and put her head down. Her wedding ring was still on her finger and the words, although she did not want them to, brought tears to her eyes. She still missed her husband very much as if it was yesterday. “I…don’t think…I’m…”

“I don’t mean anytime soon,” Aunt Hannah said. “The heart will heal when it heals. I simply meant that I’m aware that you are still young, and that is possibly one day.”

“I…maybe,” Clara said. “I’m not so sure.”

“Come, we will not dwell on such sad things,” Hannah said. “I am grateful that you have agreed. And what an adventure you will have!”

“It will be an adventure,” Clara said, with a rueful smile. “I have never been to Colorado, and I certainly have never been there with several children in tow.”

“You are a natural,” Hannah assured her. “Haven’t you seen how the children take to you, in just a few weeks? It’s as if you have been here all along.”

“They are delightful, bless their hearts,” Clara smiled. “I am grateful that everyone here has been so kind.”

“Of course,” Hannah said, as she finished her own tea. Clara realized that she had not yet taken a sip of hers and brought it to her mouth. It had cooled slightly, and the sugar was too sweet, but she drank it anyway. It went down easier now that she realized her whole life wasn’t changing again. “Now, shall we start on supper?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Clara replied. “Will you tell the children, or save it for the day of?”

“I will tell them,” Hannah said. “We will have to sleep three to a bed for a couple nights, I think, until the train arrives.”

“What day?” Clara asked, already mentally planning how to pack.

“Tuesday,” Hannah said. “The new orphans will be here in two days, and they will have two days here.”

“Goodness, it will be here before we know it,” Clara said as she reached into the sack of potatoes that she had brought in from the pantry earlier.

“Yes, exactly,” Hannah replied. “We will tell them tonight and tell everyone to be on their best behavior.”

“They will be,” Clara replied as she continued to pull out potatoes. The first time she helped with supper, she had been stunned with how much little mouths ate. It seemed like they went through half a sack of potatoes a day. Clara was certain that some of the children ate more than her, and it made her smile. They were growing into a new life, and their appetites matched. “Maybe I should eat an extra potato tonight to build up my strength.”

“Maybe you should,” Hannah said, with a smile. “You’ll need some meat on your bones. I’ve heard that Cedar Creek can become very cold at night.”

“Have you ever been?” Clara asked her.

“I’ve never been to Cedar Creek,” Hannah said. “I have been to Colorado though, when I was a young woman. There used to be an organization that traveled to help orphans whenever there was an influx of them, extra hands so to speak, and I went after an avalanche that wiped out half a town.”

“Oh my goodness, how terrible,” Clara said. “You’ve always had such a heart of gold.”

“I must admit, it wasn’t just for selfless reasons,” Hannah said. “I was young and I wanted to have an adventure, and it was an acceptable way to do so, at my age. We did good work, of course, but I got to see the mountains, the snow, and the country in a way I hadn’t before. And now, you shall have an adventure as well.”

“Well, I’m grateful for the opportunity,” Clara said. “Especially if it made you the wonderful person you are.”

“You are sweet, my dear,” Hannah said and gave her a one-armed hug. Clara relished the embrace. Aunt Hannah smelled like her mother, and the two sisters had a similar build. When Aunt Hannah hugged it, it felt like her mother was still there. “Now, let’s begin cooking the potatoes or it will be midnight before supper is ready.”

“Yes,” Clara said, and went to get the knife. The rest of the night was a blur, full of young voices and the clatter of dinner plates. Clara didn’t even mind when her feet ached, standing in the kitchen to finish the dishes. The thought of this new adventure excited her in a way that she hadn’t been in years. She was absolutely certain this is where she was meant to be.

Chapter Two

Matt could feel the cold on his face as he started out across the ice. His fingers were already half numb in his gloves, but he didn’t mind. This was the first time the ice had frozen all year, and he loved the way his feet glided across it.

“I thought it would never freeze!” Alice said joyfully. Her green eyes, the same as his, shone as she put her arms out, attempting to not fall. “It’s been so warm, and now here we are!”

She was farther ahead of him than he would like. The ice seemed to go on forever, and Alice spun around, her blonde hair flying under her hat.

“Look at me!”

“Be careful!” Matt cried out. The sun, which had been high in the sky, suddenly seemed much darker. The daylight was receding, and he was confused, because they had just come out.

When he looked away from the sun, he saw that Alice was now several feet ahead of him. She couldn’t possibly cover such distance in such a short time, he thought, confused.

He tried to move forward, but his legs were frozen.

And then he heard the crack.

“ALICE!” he cried, as his vision darkened again. All around him, cracks began to appear, and his vision tunneled.

“MATT!” he would never forget his sister’s screams, as long as he lived. He heard the splash and then she was gone.

“ALICE!”

Matt woke up in a cold sweat, the words dying on his lip.

The dawn light was coming in the window, and the room was warm from the fire. It was a far cry from the ice he remembered.

He tried to catch his breath, sweat still glistening on his strong chest.

It had been many years since he had even walked across a frozen lake. Outside, there was frost forming on the windows, in a pattern that reminded him of the paper snowflakes he, Jack and Alice used to cut as children. Christmas was coming.

And so was the anniversary of the most terrible day of his life.

Matt felt his heartrate start to slow as the dream began to fade. The memory never would, of course, but the dream would fade into the far reaches of his mind until getting up for the day was at least tolerable.

He threw off the covers and stretched, running a hand over his face. He needed to shave, but there was no concern for that today. No one would see him except the animals.

The Thompson ranch wasn’t the largest one in the state by any means, but it was still his home. His parents had settled it when he was a teenager, leaving behind their life in Missouri to start this new adventure.

But after Alice had died….

Matt shook his head and went to change. When it was cold outside, the chores were harder, and he wanted to get it out of the way. It wasn’t that he couldn’t physically stand the cold. Mentally, however, it was a struggle that he would rather never face again. He had briefly considered ranching in some place out west, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave this place, even if his parents and brother long since had.

Matt headed into the kitchen to make himself a hot pot of porridge, the same as he did every morning. He found that routine stopped him from thinking too much. If every morning, he did the same thing, and ate the same things, he could move without thought; without consideration for anything that had gotten him to this point.

This morning, as he looked across the field, he saw that cows were at the gate, looking down the road. He thought that was a bit odd, given that they usually preferred to be huddled up in the barn when the weather was unpleasant.

It only took him a moment or two to realize what they were looking at. He heard wagon wheels coming down the path before he saw them and cursed under his breath.

“Who could this be at this hour?” he thought and then glanced at the clock. It was actually a bit later than he thought. Normally, he’d be out with the cows by now.

There was only one visitor he could think of who knew his routine and who would also come out so early, before his own workday started.

He quickly put on the tea kettle, because the minister would no doubt want a cup of tea, and then checked in the polished glass to make sure that it at least looked presentable to other humans.

“I wonder what he wants,” he muttered under his breath. It only took Matt a moment to remember that it was Sunday. He didn’t think the minister would make a trip all this way just to lure him to church, which started in a couple hours, but Matt supposed anything was possible.

As he stood by the door, ready to open it, he glanced around the kitchen. It wasn’t the neatest, but it also wasn’t terrible. Reverend Stevens would understand, surely, that he didn’t have time to neaten up every single day, especially when the visit was unexpected.

It had been Reverend Stevens, or Todd as he had come to know him by, that had presided over Alice’s funeral. At the time, Todd was the new parish priest, and Alice’s funeral was the first one he had ever done, as Matt had come to learn in adulthood. It certainly cemented his place in town that day, as everyone who was around then remembered the young minister delivering a eulogy with such emotion that one would think he also grew up with fifteen-year-old Alice.

“Todd,” Matt said, swinging open the door when he heard the footsteps. “To what do I owe this visit so early?”

“You heard me coming,” the minister said with a smile. “I made sure the horses clopped a bit harder, to give you warning.”

“You could have just sent a note,” Matt said. “I assume this is about luring me to church?”

“Well, first off,” Todd said with a smile. “If I had sent a note, you would have ignored it. And secondly, this isn’t just about luring you to church.”

“Just,” Matt echoed and held the door open wider. “Come in at least, it’s freezing out there.”

“Yes, we are surely going to have a white Christmas,” Todd said as he stepped inside and rubbed his hands together. “Seems a bit earlier this year than most.”

“Joy,” Matt replied as he brushed past him into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”

“You are a godsend, Matthew,” Todd replied, and sat in the kitchen as if he was there every day.

Matt busied himself with pouring the tea into a chipped mug and then rummaging for sugar. Usually, he drank coffee, and he drank it black. The sugar bowl had half a spoonful left and he dumped it into the mug before sliding it across the table.

Todd took a grateful sip, and if there was anything off about the taste of it, he didn’t say anything.

“Thank you,” he said. “Warms the bones.”

“Mmm,” Matt leaned against the counter. He noted that the cows had gone back to the barn, and he glanced at the clock. He would have to get out there soon, or they would be singing up a storm before the sun was halfway up the sky. “How can I help you?”

“Well, I’m bringing you news that our town is going to expand,” Todd replied. “And I was hoping that you could help with it.”

That piqued Matt’s interest, if only because it was so vague.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Is some big city developer going to make us the next Denver?”

“Er-no,” Todd replied with a smile. “But we…my house in particular, is going to be full for the next little while. My wife and I have offered refuge to six orphans, from an overflowing orphanage, until they are adopted.”

“That’s very generous of you, Reverand,” Matt replied. “You certainly are going to have a full house.”

“Cassandra will be overjoyed,” Todd replied with a smile. “You know how much she loves running the nursery at church.”

“Yes,” Matt replied. “But, and I’m not trying to be rude, what does this have to do with me?”

“Well, we were hoping you could help?”

“Help?” Matt asked. “I don’t know the first thing about children…”

“Not necessarily with the children,” Todd said. “But you know everyone in town, and we’re hoping that you can help spread the word about adoption, or give your opinion on what families might be interested in.”

“I…” Matt shrugged. “I don’t know. Any family with children about the same age might be open.”

“They are also traveling with an escort, Miss Clara Benton,” Todd said. “She works at the orphanage that first took them in, and with the snow the way it is, I would hope that they get adopted quickly so she can head back before the snow.”

“So what you’ve come to tell me is that the town is about to be overrun with strangers,” Matt said. “You were the last stranger to come to town, and while it went well for you…”

“The Lord tells us to love thy neighbor,” Todd reminded him. “And they are about to be your neighbors. Although I hardly think six children and an escort is considered overrunning the town.”

“Uh huh,” Matt said. “When are they arriving?”

“Next week,” Todd said. “Next week’s church service will be their first in town. I came to ask if you would come then.”

“I don’t know,” Matt replied. “I’ve got…cows,” he jerked his thumb back to the window. Todd smiled kindly.

“So do half the families in town,” he reminded him. “And they still make it to church.”

Matt sighed.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “Next week is enough notice. To be honest, I thought you were going to ask me to come today.”

“You are welcome today,” Todd said, and Matt shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “Cows.”

“Of course,” Todd replied. “Well, I do appreciate your help with this. Christmas is coming and that is always a busy time on its own.”

“Sure,” Matt said.

“Caleb Morgan has offered to help.”

“Has he now?” Matt looked away, only because he did not feel like it was his business to spread nastiness about other people.

“He has,” Todd said. “I thought perhaps you would want to know.”

It was clear that Todd was well versed on the town and its gossip, despite not being a permanent fixture here.

Matt looked away to the distance, where Jack’s house was. Of course, he couldn’t see it from here, but he was thinking of his brother and his nieces and nephews, wrapped up by the fire, and hoping they had enough to keep warm.

The darkness when he thought of Jack’s situation was almost as dark as when he thought of Alice. The difference was, Alice’s would never get better. Maybe there was hope for Jack someday, if he ever changed his ways. The way he was going though, he never would.

“Coin for your thoughts?” Tom prompted him and Matt looked back at the Reverend.

In another life, he thought that he and Todd might have been friends. Only a few years older, they had similar hobbies and interests. Todd had once expressed that he would be a rancher if he wasn’t a minister, and Matt had considered priesthood before Alice had died. They both shared an interest in being outdoors and had sometimes thrown a ball around. Today, however, Matt felt like he was being tricked into something and he wasn’t sure what exactly. “Have a good…sermon.”

“Thank you,” Todd rose, his tea mug empty. “God Bless you, Matthew.”

Matt didn’t say anything to that, although he did follow him to the door and give him a half-hearted wave.

“That was odd,” Matt said to himself, as he returned to the kitchen to eat the rest of his now cold porridge.

He was certain that the Bible also warned him to be wary of strangers, but if he was honest, it had been a long time since he had read it. As a child, of course, he went to church every Sunday and prayed with his parents every night. These days, it is hard to find something to be grateful for.

Matt put the dishes into the sink, vowing to do them later, and grabbed his jacket and winter gear. It had started to snow, and the thought of having to dig out anything on top of his regular chores was the last thing he wanted. That could be tomorrow’s problem.

For now, the cows were waiting for him, and that kept him going.

He was just about to head out the door when there was another knock.

“For goodness sakes,” he said out loud and pulled it open. Luckily, to his dark mood, it was just Ben Harper.

“Did the reverend just leave?” Ben asked, standing in the doorway. “Are you sick or something?”

“What are you doing here so early?” Matt asked his childhood friend in confusion. Ben grinned.

“I just was out this way,” he said. “I’m actually going to the Ace Ranch, wanted to see if you wanted to come and gawk at their ridiculous amount of chickens.”

“Why are you going out there at the crack of dawn?” Matt asked. “Business or you sweet on Natalie?”

“Not sweet on Natalie,” Ben answered. “Even with the amount of money they have. Anyways, I am going on a business trip after, so I will be gone for quite a few weeks. Don’t come knocking.”

“Whatever will I do?” Matt responded. Ben was the only person he could lighten up a bit around. Everyone else reminded him of the dark cloud of his life.

“I’m just telling you.” Ben grinned. “I’ll see you around, friend.”

“I’ll see you around.” Matt said as Ben wandered off like it wasn’t the crack of dawn, and the farm wasn’t a mile away.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any other unexpected visitors, Matt finally headed into the fields. He would start earlier than Carson today, but it didn’t matter. At least he would have some time alone with his head. Winter was coming and it was the hardest time of year to get through. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to get through it all.