“Tired?” he asked.
Vera nodded with her eyes closed.
He whispered in her ear, “We can go upstairs now if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I love listening to the children singing.”
She felt Wyatt’s hand squeeze her closer and imagined that Thea was thinking it was about time, but she kept her eyes closed and listened to the sweet singing.
Once upstairs in their room, Wyatt suggested something that both thrilled and scared Vera.
“There’s no reason we can’t share the bed, Vera. We are married.”
Vera supposed the shocked look on her face was what had caused him to add, “I’ll roll up the spare blanket and put it between us. It’ll be fine.”
She scolded herself for being so surprised at his suggestion. Vera had to show him that she was as anxious as he to make the marriage real, so she nodded.
After Wyatt had left the room, she slipped on her nightgown, crawled to the far corner of the double bed, and said her prayers, asking God to help her be more willing.
Wyatt came in, folded the spare blanket lengthwise, and placed it down the middle of the bed. “Are you asleep?” he asked softly.
“No.” She turned to face him, but he’d turned the lamp off and she could only see his shadow with the fire behind him.
He crawled into bed and sighed. “Now, this is nice.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“It’s almost perfect,” he said.
Vera built up the nerve to say, “Thank you for your patience with me.”
“Our situation is unusual, and I understand. Someday we’ll laugh about this.”
Vera said, “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve already. Our time here is going fast.”
“I’d offer to stay longer, but Clay’s minding two farms, and I’d hate to stick him with the extra work for too long.”
“I don’t mind leaving. Maybe someday the children could visit us in Kansas. We have plenty of room.”
“Vera, that’s a wonderful idea. Maybe we’ll have them for next Christmas.”
“I’d love that.”
“Your voice sounds tired.”
“I am. Goodnight, Wyatt.” Vera turned to face the wall. The bed squeaked as Wyatt rolled over to face the fire.
Vera awoke to find Wyatt’s arm across her waist. She was facing him in bed, so she could tell he was still asleep. Where his arm touched her, it sent a shot of warmth through her. She watched his face as he slept, feeling the urge to kiss him or stroke his face, but she knew she didn’t have that much courage. Still, if she didn’t make some moves soon…
She continued to watch him sleep.
Finally, his eyes peered back at her. “Good morning, Mrs. Stone.”
“Good morning.”
He removed his arm and sat up. “Look—it’s snowing.”
Vera turned to look at the window. The frost had filled the bottom half, and she could only see the flakes through the top portion. “So, it is.”
“I’m getting out of bed, so if you are the least bit shy, you’ll turn around.” He laughed.
Vera flipped quickly over to face the wall and window. She heard him dressing.
“I’m going downstairs. I promised Sam I’d go hunting with him. We’re hoping to bag a deer, but we’ll come home with something for dinner.”
“Good luck!” she called.
True to his word, Sam, Wyatt, and Jack came home carrying a duck and two pheasants which they handed over to Thea to dress. “Oh, they look nice and plump. Good job, fellas,” she said.
Wyatt sat across the table from Vera who was drinking tea. “I had a good shot at a deer, but he was so beautiful, none of us had the heart to kill him. He had a rack this big.” Wyatt spread his arms wide to illustrate.
As she plucked feathers from the birds, Thea said, “I prefer the birds. The deer would have taken so much longer to prepare.” She yelled out to the children. “Celeste, Georgia, and Uma— we have plucking to do.”
“I’ll help,” Vera offered.
“No, I want you, Portia, Finnian, and Perry to bring the gifts down and put them under our beautiful tree. Tell the children again how St. Nicholas will fill their stockings tonight. They love that story you always tell them on Christmas Eve, Vera.”
Thea looked at the men. “Sam, Wyatt, and Jack—we’ll need the firewood chopped and brought in, then we can all relax and enjoy the beef stew I’ve made.”
“Did you make the biscuits?” Vera asked.
“Georgia and I made them first thing this morning. What’s stew without biscuits?”
Vera smiled at her sister. “I’m so proud of you.”
Chapter Nine
Vera and the children arranged the gifts under the tree. Now, the room looked truly like Christmas.
“There are so many this year!” Portia cried.
“Vera, I didn’t wrap mine. I don’t know how,” Perry said.
“You’re seven years old and you can’t wrap a gift?” Vera said. “I think it’s time you learned. Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”
Vera used extra pieces of the red, green, and gold material, and she showed Perry how to wrap a few of his gifts. “Think you can do it now on your own?”
“Yes. It’s easier with cloth than paper,” he said. “The paper always rips on me.”
“And you tie a nice bow.”
“Vera,” Perry said, “I didn’t get Wyatt a gift because I didn’t know what to get someone I haven’t met.”
“He loves to read. He loves animals, and he wouldn’t care if you didn’t give him a gift. He’s a very understanding man.”
“He likes books?” Perry clapped his hands together. “I’ll make him a bookmarker.”
“Wyatt would love that.”
Vera left the room. She’d quite forgotten how sweet little Perry was. He’d grown up so fast; she hoped he’d like the hat and scarf she knit him.
Vera
