A Lone Star Christmas

After the cowboys had their lunch, Clay took the herd on across the river because there was ample water and grass, then made the decision to camp there overnight.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Rebecca, may I ask you a question?” Sally said as the three women were resting after lunch. “If it is none of my business, and it probably isn’t, you can tell me so, and I won’t be offended.”

“What is the question?”

“Are you in love with Tom Whitman?”

Rebecca didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Immediately after Sally asked the question, Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, my,” Sally said. “Me and my big mouth. I didn’t intend to open a sore spot. That was very foolish of me, wasn’t it? Please forgive me.”

Rebecca shook her head and sniffed.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said. “It is a perfectly legitimate question.”

“Perhaps, but it is also a loaded and painful question, if one is to gauge by your reaction.”

“Yes, I love him,” Rebecca said.

“And why is that so painful? Does he not return your love? I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t. He seems like a very intelligent young man; surely he isn’t dumb enough to spurn your love.”

“I don’t know,” Rebecca said. “I think he loves me. He has kissed me as if he loves me.” Rebecca felt her face flushing. “But he is bedeviled by something in his past and I think he is afraid to let himself love me. Also, my father does not want me to have anything to do with him. And I don’t know if I am strong enough to stand up to him.”

“You aren’t the first one ever to face that, Rebecca. My father is a banker, back East. The West may as well be a foreign country to him, and when he heard about Smoke, a man who had made a reputation as a gunfighter— even though he had never used his gun for any reason except to right a wrong—well, you can imagine what his reaction was. But Smoke won him over, and, from what I have observed of Tom, I’m sure he could win your father over as well.”

“Right now the problem isn’t with Tom winning my father over. It is with me winning Tom’s love,” Rebecca said.

“You will,” Sally said. “I know you will. And it will be worth it. I can’t imagine my life without Smoke.”

“Smoke,” Rebecca said. “That is such an unusual name.”

Sally chuckled. “It’s not his real name, of course. It’s just a name that was given to him by Preacher, an old mountain man friend who became Smoke’s mentor. His real name is Kirby.”

“What?” Rebecca gasped. “Kirby Jensen? That’s his name?”

Sally was confused and curious by Rebecca’s strange reaction. “Yes, Kirby Jensen. Why? Does that name mean something to you?”

“It does if he is from Missouri, and if he had a sister named Janie.”

“Oh, my God,” Sally said. “Yes, he is from Missouri, and he did have a sister named Janie. But she died a long time ago. What is your connection to this?”

“Janie didn’t die a long time ago, though she knew that her brother thought she did. Janie died last month, in Dodge City, only a few days before you got there.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Janie Jensen was my mother.”

“Janie was your mother?”

“Yes.”

“Then that means ...” Sally stopped in mid-sentence then smiled broadly. “Oh, my, Rebecca! That means Smoke is your uncle.”

“And you are my aunt,” Rebecca replied, returning Sally’s smile.

The two women hugged happily, just as Smoke and Falcon rode up, having returned from escorting the Back Trail riders out of harm’s way.

“What are we celebrating?” Smoke asked with a grin as he dismounted.

“Smoke, the most wonderful thing!” Sally said. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

“What.”

“Rebecca is your niece.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Smoke said. “What did you do, adopt her as a niece?”

“No. I mean she really is your niece,” Sally said. “Your blood kin, niece.”

Smoke shook his head. “That’s not possible,” he said. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“Janie,” Sally said.

“Janie? She’s dead. She died ...”

“Two weeks ago,” Rebecca said. “My mother, your sister, died two weeks ago in Dodge City, Kansas.”

“No, she died a long time ago.”

“She knew that you thought she was dead,” Rebecca said. “She said that she never told you, because you were better off if you thought she was dead.”

“How well did you know your mother?”

“I didn’t know her that well,” Rebecca answered. “She—abandoned me when I was a baby. I never actually saw her until a few months ago.”

“I must confess that abandoning you does sound like something my sister would do. But I just don’t believe your mother was my sister. If she had the name I’m sure it was just a coincidence. I imagine there are several Janie Jensens in the country.”

“How many of them have a brother who tied two cow’s tails together?” Rebecca asked.

“What?” Smoke gasped. He stared at Rebecca with eyes open wide. “How do you know that?”

“She told me,” Rebecca said. “Not only that, she also told me that you told your father that the cows had tied themselves together while they were swishing at flies.”

“I’ll be damn! You are my niece!” Smoke said. And, as Sally had before, he welcomed her into his family with arms open wide.

“Smoke! You never told me that story about the cows tying their own tails together,” Sally said.

“I’ve never told that story to a living soul,” Smoke said. “Not even Preacher. And there is no way; absolutely no way that Rebecca could know that story unless Janie told her.”

Over the next half hour, Smoke questioned Rebecca about his sister. Rebecca told him that Janie admitted to having been a prostitute, but that she had reformed when she met and married Oscar Davenport.

“And when I say reformed, I mean reformed,” Rebecca said. “It’s as Mama told me, there is nobody more righteous than a reformed whore.”

“But, why didn’t she tell me?” Smoke asked. “Why didn’t she get in touch with me? She knew where I was. I didn’t know where she was.”

“She said she thought you were better off thinking she was dead. She hurt you, she hurt your father, and she hurt your mother. She was ashamed and contrite, and wanted only to go to her Maker without hurting anyone else. I wish you could have seen her at the end, Uncle Kirby. She was a good woman, and she was a good wife to Oscar. He grieved terribly when Mama died. And, in the few months I was privileged to know her, she was a good mama to me.”

“And you say she died just before we got to Dodge City?” Smoke asked.

“Yes.”

“What a cruel turn of fate that was,” Smoke said. “To think that I came that near to seeing her again.”

“Smoke, for years you have resented your sister,” Sally said. “Even if you had gotten there in time, I don’t know that you could have found it in your heart to forgive her.”

“If the wound is deep enough, it takes a while to heal, I’ll admit that,” Smoke said. “But, still, I wish I had gotten there in time to see her, and to learn what she had become. I wish I had gotten there in time for