Chapter Six

Linc stared at the plate of desserts. As tempting as they appeared, he wished he was anyplace but here. And by here, he meant the newly constructed meeting room. Oh, there wasn't anything wrong with the place. And he should know. Volunteering what little free time he had, he, along with a dozen other men in town, helped construct the building. Resentful at first, he soon came to enjoy working alongside his neighbors. And with it came a sense of calm, giving him a respite from the responsibility of having to do a job by himself.

He blew out a frustrated breath. It hadn't taken but a day for word to get around that he had decided to remarry. He should have never let Betsy know of his plans. She could never keep a secret, and this was no exception. Now, every woman he knew from Crystal Creek to the county line was keeping his family fed with casseroles, stews, and desserts. And if he wasn't mistaken, they were all here at the weekly social, ready to pounce as if he was the last tasty morsel on the dessert table. On the pretense of scanning the crowd for his girls, he took note of the most likely prospects.

Lillian Clum caught his attention and gave a little flirty wave. He nodded and tried not to cringe. She was easy on the eyes, and her biscuits and gravy were the closest things to heaven here on earth. But it was her voice. Somewhere between a yippy coyote and a shrill siren, each word pierced the air like a needle when she spoke. He couldn't imagine listening to that cackle every day of his life.

A burst of laughter sounded behind him. When Linc glanced over his shoulder, he caught sight of Jennie Tupper waving at him. He sent up a silent plea, Lord, help me . He'd known the girl for as long as he could remember. She was too much like his sister for him to be around either one of them for any length of time. The last thing he needed was another mischievous female in his house.

Then there was Abigail Tully. Widowed within the first year of her marriage to Ed Tully, she still wore widow's weeds even though several years had passed since Ed' passing. He could understand how she felt. Perhaps she still held feelings for her late husband. As a widower, he knew Katie would always hold a special place in his heart.

Abigail had no children, and Linc wondered if she wanted a baby or two of her own. The thought made his heart pound in his chest. He had always wanted a big family, and maybe a son who would help with the herd and carry on the Wyse name.

She caught his eye and sent him a small smile. He nodded to her and went back to staring at his plate. Now that he'd decided to remarry, there would be no going back. Yet, he didn't want to rush headlong into something that might not be right for his girls.

"See anyone who catches your eye?" Wes Harty sidled up next to Linc and surveyed the room. He and Wes had known each other since they were boys in short pants. It was strange how life and death, time, children, and work could pull people apart. Wes's wife had died a few winters back. He hadn't remarried and didn't appear to be in any hurry to get hitched, either. Though if the rumor circulating through town was true, Leah Dodson might have something to say about that.

Linc knew what Wes was getting at. "That's not why I'm here. My mother wanted to visit with the girls." He hated half-truths. But in this case, it was warranted. He wished he'd never told anyone of his decision.

"Yeah, right." Wes chuckled and Linc knew he didn't believe it for a minute. He decided the less said the better.

"Maybe you should invite her to the Christmas Stroll?"

Linc clenched his jaw so hard his back teeth hurt. He was tired of people telling him what he should do. His mother. His sister. His girls. His best friend. And added to that growing list was Claire McAllister.

Besides, the Christmas Stroll, an annual event held two weeks before Christmas, was a festive candlelight walk up and down the main street meant to spread good cheer. It also meant that he'd have to sing. It was widely known in his family that he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket with the lid on it.

Linc shook his head. "No thanks. I don't want to go caroling."

"Sure you do." Wes smiled. "Get your mother or Betts to watch the girls. I'll talk with Leah about getting Abigail to go. All you need to do is show up."

And sing. The more he thought about it the more it made sense. He could talk with Abigail and get a sense of what she thought about his plans to get married.

In his head, it sounded like the perfect plan. So why did his heart hurt when he wondered how Claire McAllister would feel if she knew?

"Papa, can we talk with you?"

Linc looked up from the newspaper he was reading. Determined not to let him finish Bret Harte's latest installment, Rachel, Violet, and Daisy stood on the bottom step like sentinels daring him to refuse all three of them.

"You should be in bed, girls." He was tired and didn't mean to sound cross. At least they were in their night clothes, faces washed, teeth cleaned, and their shiny locks brushed away from their faces. "What can I do for you?"

"Can we decorate for Christmas?"

Linc shook his head. "I don't think so. There's still lots of work to do around here." He was proud of the changes in the girls over the past two weeks. Not only had they stuck to their promise about keeping their hands and faces washed and their clothes clean, but they had helped more with the household chores. Adding more work to their already busy days wasn't fair to them.

"We didn't have decorations last year," Daisy lamented.

Because you had lost Katie only a few months before a small voice reminded him.

"Please, Papa." Violet clutched her hands together as if praying for a miracle.

Linc put the newspaper aside. "We still have so much to do. And now with snow on the ground and cold temperatures, we have to keep the walks shoveled and the wood stacked."

Rachel pulled herself up to her full height as if that would convince him to change his mind. "Every night we take care of the dishes and sweep the floor. And with all those ladies bringing food by, you don't have to cook supper. Why can't we decorate for Christmas?"

They were caught up for the moment. But he didn't want to get so far behind, he'd be playing catch-up for the next month and the months after that. But he also didn't want to disappoint the girls. By losing their mother at such tender ages, they had been through so much. Maybe once he got some sleep. "What do you say we talk about this tomorrow night?"

"Yes, Papa."

Despite their obvious disappointment, they kissed him goodnight and traipsed to their room. Everything Rachel said was true. The chores were caught up, the house was relatively clean and uncluttered, and thanks to the single ladies of Crystal Creek, they didn't have to worry about food…at least for the moment. But how long would that last? Probably only until word got out he was courting Abigail Tully.

As for setting out decorations and a tree, he couldn't come up with any reason to say no.

Linc rushed through the milking and the chores so when the girls got home from school the next day he was waiting for them with a snack of cheese, crackers, and milk, followed by a plate of shortbread cookies someone had dropped off while he was in the barn.

After the second milking of the day, they hurried back to the house. While the girls took off their outerwear, and put away their satchels, Linc added two round, thick logs to the fire.

"Girls, come into the sitting room." The words had barely left his lips when he heard the sound of running feet.

"We're here!" they cried in unison.

Linc pointed to the settee. "Have a seat and close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Daisy shouted. Unable to sit still, she bounced up and down on the settee that had belonged to Katie's grandmother. Though it had seen better days, it was Linc's favorite place to stretch out in the evenings.

"Keep those eyes closed or no surprise," Linc warned before he left the house by the back door and headed for the barn.

"I hope it's a puppy," Daisy whispered.

"I hope it's a Christmas tree," added Violet.

I hope it's a new mama . Rachel's lips moved in a silent plea.

Minutes later, Linc returned. From his vantage point in the kitchen, he checked to ensure the girls had their eyes closed before he carried a red cedar tree in a bucket into the sitting room. He set it down in a corner near the window and away from the fireplace.

"Okay, girls. On three, open your eyes. One. Two. Three!"

They opened their eyes and screamed in unison. "A tree!"

Linc's heart melted when he saw the joy on his daughters' faces. They needed this. He needed this. Just being together as a family. Wrapped up in his own grief, he had struggled this past year to be both mother and father. Unfortunately, he'd failed on both accounts.

The girls clapped their hands when he opened the crate of ornaments and decorations he'd taken down from the storage loft in the barn.

With unbridled joy, the girls unwrapped lace snowflakes their mother had crocheted, fragrant bundles of cinnamon sticks tied with red yarn, and glass ornaments his family had given them, one for each year he and Katie had been married.

Linc lifted a package from the bottom of the crate. "As the youngest in the family, Daisy, it's your job to put this on the tree."

Understanding the package was something special, Daisy carefully unwrapped the brown paper. There, in a bed of soft, gauzy fabric, an angel stared back at her. Dressed in an iridescent gown of silver, gold, and white fabric, there was a crocheted lace design on the front of her dress. In her hands, she held a small bouquet of lace roses. Her wings were white feathers.

With a reverent touch, Linc traced the hem of her dress. "Your mama made this the first year we were married."

"It's like she'll always be with us," Rachel said in a hushed voice.

As melancholy as he felt, Linc wanted this activity to be a joyful one for the girls. He loved that they wanted to keep memories of Katie with them, to honor past traditions and keep them going into the future where there would be pain at times, but happiness, too.

"Let's go, girls. We have a house to decorate."

Claire stomped her feet several times to keep her toes from freezing and breaking off as she and Mary waited with a few dozen others for the Christmas Stroll to start. She pulled her woolen muffler higher across her mouth and cheeks. What she wouldn't give to be home, sitting next to the fire, sipping bergamot tea, and working on a new quilting pattern. "How did I let you talk me into this, dear sister?"

"You like to take long walks in the snow?"

"At night? Not likely, Mary."

"You love to sing?"

Claire shook her head, giving her sister a look she usually reserved for her most recalcitrant students. "We all know I sound like a wounded calf when I open my mouth to sing. So, why am I really here?"

"There's a rumor going round town that Linc Wyse is looking to get hitched."

"Yes, I know. He told me several days ago. What's that got to do with me?"

Mary bumped her elbow. "He likes you."

A momentary, tiny glow cheered her, and at the base of her throat a pulse beat and swelled as though her heart had risen from its usual place. Yet, she doubted that was true. Besides the perpetual scowl pasted onto his face every time he saw her, they could barely exchange a civil word between them.

"There he is," Mary whispered cupping a gloved hand over her mouth before she elbowed Claire a second time.

"Please stop doing that, Mary. We're not giggling debutantes at our first grown-up party."

"He's looking this way."

He was, along with the scowl she knew was meant only for her.

"Make the first move. Go talk to him." She elbowed Claire for a third time. Her behavior reminded Claire of the time she tried to get Drew's attention when he only had eyes for her sister Ava.

But her choice was already made when he saw Linc Wyse walking her way.