Once Upon a Montana Christmas

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

“O h! It’s here!” Eva heard Aunt Carol bellow from downstairs. She gathered Lily in her arms and went down to see what all the fuss was about.

She arrived downstairs just in time to see Hunt and Mr. Walker carry a large crate into the house and place it beside another.

Aunt Carol’s face was bright with excitement. “Oh, dearie, you are just in time.”

“Just in time for what?” Eva edged closer to the crate.

“Christmas decorations, tinsel, and treats from my brother in Germany!” As Aunt Carol explained about the contents of the crates, Hunt and Mr. Walker prized them open, revealing wrapped packages and tins full of fragrant spices.

Eva sat down on the floor with a very curious Lily on her lap. When she opened a tin embossed with a German landscape, the scent of cloves filled the air. The next package she pulled out contained a smooth wood block engraving of a Christmas tree. “This is beautiful,” she said as she admired it.

She was surprised when Hunt began to explain the significance of the engraving. “It’s a cookie mold. We use the molds to make decorative Lebkuchen , a type of spiced cookie, and ornaments for the Christmas tree. It has been a tradition in my family for many generations. My oma taught my siblings and me how to make them.”

She could hear the pride in his voice. Despite his tough exterior, underneath it all was a sensitive man. Not for the first time, she wondered what had hardened him.

“Did you have any family traditions, dearie?”

Eva did not know how to answer that question without raising sympathy from Aunt Carol. Her family was not close and would never dream of sitting on the floor rummaging through crates. She could hear her stepmother now: “That is why we have servants. Let them get their hands dirty.” Looking away, she shook her head without a word, and continued on with unpacking their traditions, wishing desperately she had some of her own.

* * *

Hunt had been trying to keep his distance. He did not want to get close to Eva, having been married once, and that had ended in betrayal and death. But seeing her opening the packages, caring about the contents, and asking about his family history, made him believe that love and happiness were possible.

Lily was just as intrigued by the crates’ contents. He watched the baby pick up the lid of the decorative tin and bang it against the base. Memories of a little sister doing the same thing hit him with full force. Over the past weeks, he’d come to realize that Eva had been telling the truth. He felt the emptiness at the bottom of his gut. His sister was dead.

As if sensing his thoughts were about her mother, Lily crawled over to him and gave him a toothless smile. She was so much like CeCe. Until his dying day, he would make sure that he did not disappoint his niece the way he had his sister. Before he had the chance to pick Lily up, Eva jumped to her feet and scooped the baby away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice she crawled over. She won’t bother you again.”

Hunt was flustered by Eva’s reaction. He thought that they had been getting along, those first few awkward days long forgotten. But seeing her reaction just now made him realize that that was not the case. He didn’t want her to feel like an intruder.

He was just about to try and put her mind at ease when Devon came racing in, all in a huff. “Need you to come an’ see Larkspur, boss. I think ’er time is near’n.”

He grabbed his long leather jacket and black Stetson and followed the old ranch hand out to the stables. Sure enough, Larkspur was even more agitated than she had been the previous day.

As Hunt leaned on the wood railing, he examined the restless mare from a safe distance. Larkspur had been very difficult of late, and he did not want to cause her undue stress. “Looks like her udder is distended.”

“Noticed the beading already.” Hunt saw the concerned look on Devon’s face even before he spoke the words. “I think this one is gonna be big. She might have problems.”

Hunt agreed. He did not want to lose his favorite mare. Larkspur had been with him for ten seasons and was an excellent mount. “You and Smythe take turns. Keep a close eye on her, and if anything changes, let me know.” There wasn’t much they could do but offer her comfort if need be. Birthing was as old as time, and on occasion, things just did not turn out well.

It was a sobering thought, and for the first time ever, he grasped some things were out of his control. Sometimes, things weren’t meant to be. He’d spent far too many years living in anger over mistakes, and not just his own.

It was time to put the past to rest. Christmas was, after all, a season for forgiveness.

* * *

Hunt rode out past the cottage and bunkhouse, past the family graveyard where three generations of his family rested in peace. The fruits of their labors were realized in the vast expanse of the Strauss landholding; their sacrifices had not been in vain.

Turning Dakota onto the trail that led to the southeast slope of the property, he continued to admire the land that never ceased to amaze him. The snow-capped hills in the distance, the vast expanse of blue sky, the fast-flowing creek, the abundance of whitetail deer—he loved this country. It was a part of who he was. He had always known that, but now he wanted to share that love with the next generation in a way he’d never imagined before.

In the near distance, he saw his destination, and dismounted Dakota near the creek. It was a good spot for his horse to rest. The frozen ground crunched beneath his boots, the light snow from the previous night only having managed to form a thin layer of brown ice. He found the sound comforting as he embarked on his difficult task.

“Hello, Nelly. It’s me, Hunt.” He took his hat off and stared down at two weathered wooden crosses. “I came to tell you that I forgive you.”

He had waited too long to say those words. Perhaps it wouldn’t have made a difference back then, but it did now. He was not going to destroy his future because of events long gone that were out of his control.

“I was angry… You robbed me of what was supposed to be mine.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and glanced down at the smaller of the two crosses. “But I never wanted you or your baby to die.”

Pulling from his pocket the silver chain he had been carrying as penitence for the last five years, he looped it around the top of the larger cross. The weight of the heart-shaped locket rested against the vertical post.

“Goodbye, Nelly.”