“Hello there! Merrrrrrry Christmas!” a jovial voice called as Dwight picked up the reins, and they looked up to see Sam and Beth Ann Maynard—Finn’s brother and his wife—along with their children, rolling past in their wagon. Christmas bells festooned the wagon, jingling merrily as the family harmonized in a boisterous rendition of Jingle Bells. Mary knew that Sam owned the largest lumber yard and saw mill in town and that Tobias had once worked for him. It had been heavily hinted at that there was a funny story in association with the history of those two. However, when it had come up on several occasions, Tobias had begged it not be told. Each time, Mary could swear the man actually blushed!

  “Merry Christmas!” Dwight called back. “It looks like we’ll get that white Christmas after all!”

  “Yes, and I’m thrilled!” Beth Ann called, laughing. “What is Christmas without snow?”

  “I get to make the first snowman,” one of their children announced, promptly followed by the others chiming in, “No, I do!” “I do!” “No, I’m first!” The adults laughed and shook their heads.

  Gazing at Dwight, Mary allowed her eyes to caress his freshly shaven face, his dimples deep as he grinned back at her. “Will you make a snowman for me?” she asked him.

  He gave an immediate nod. “You bet. A big one, right out there in the front of the house. Provided we get enough snow, that is,” he added with a glance upward. A snowflake chose that moment to fall just right, landing on the tip of his nose, and he playfully crossed his eyes trying to see it. Mary giggled and reached up to brush it away.

  “You could dress up like Santa Claus, Mary, you are kind of shaped for it right now,” her brother teased with a naughty grin and she smacked his arm.

  “Henry Robinson! I’ll get you for that remark!” she threatened, trying to hold back her laughter because, after all, he was right. “I don’t have a long white beard.” The men let out barks of laughter.

  Grinning at them and perfectly content, Mary settled back against the seat as she allowed her attention to stray to the warm glow of the front windows of the houses they passed. Smoke rose from chimneys as the roofs, front porches, and yards were just beginning to be blanketed in soft white flakes. She loved snow. It made everything look magical, like a different world where everything was pristine and unspoiled.

  Alas, the ride was over too quickly, and the men carefully helped Mary to alight from the buggy and bustled her inside, out of the cold, just as other guests arrived.

  Reverend McKnight was holding the door open for his wife and greeted them with a cheerful, “Brrrr, Merry Christmas!”

  Elderly Zebulon Hinkle—Charise and Beth Ann Maynard’s dear friend and surrogate papa who had moved from Louisville years ago to be with the girls—scurried up at the same time, chuckling, “Ho Ho Hoooold that door!” Mary had heard just the day before, a story about how Beth Ann had foiled the plans of none other than Lloyd Fetterman and had married Sam Maynard by proxy, with Mr. Hinkle as his stand-in. Imagine that! She had yet to find out how Elvira had ended up married to the man. As Olivia would say, Mary had mused, it would make a good plot for a dime novel!

  As they came inside and shook the snow off of themselves and one another, they heard laughter from over in the corner and looked that way. Doc, coming in behind Mary, chuckled. “Good old Cliff. Always the life of any party.”

  Mary knew he was talking about old-timer Cliff Fulton, the sole remaining original resident of Brownville. In his nineties, he was still as sharp as ever. Most of his teeth were missing, but he still grinned like a Cheshire cat and hee-hawed at jokes. He also flirted harmlessly with anything in a skirt, which Mary had been the recipient of quite a bit before she had gotten large with child.

  Dwight helped Mary remove her outer wrap, and then they headed to the long, ornately carved bar, the last holdover from the building’s tavern days, to snag glasses of spiced cider.

  The large room boasted a delightfully festive atmosphere as beautiful as the parlor at Doc’s house. The long bar was decorated with garland and twinkling candelabras, and loaded down with bowls of punch, fudge, cookies, and other goodies.

  All of Finn’s barbershop paraphernalia had been pushed into the back corner and covered with festive cloths. The party had already gotten underway as the customary band of townsmen—namely, Paul Woods on the banjo, Terry Carroll on the harmonica, Randy Dever on the spoons, Eric Williams on the fiddle, and of course, old Mordecai Ellwood on his singing saw—were playing a nice rendition of We Three Kings.

  Hank helped the Christiansen twins carry wrapped gifts over to the large Christmas tree situated in the front corner and added them to the pile.

  Mary gratefully accepted a cup of delicious cider from Dwight as he grinned and gave her a wink. She blushed prettily, but sent him a grateful smile. Always the perfect gentleman, she sighed happily.

  The outer door was flung open and more guests dashed in accompanied by a blast of cold, snow-laden air, including Iris Larsen and her father, owners of the town’s lovely boarding house, and Monroe and Cora Haggler, two of their long-time boarders. Cora was a member of what Doc privately called Brownville’s Snooty Ladies Club, but she had, of late, been quite nice to Mary, in spite of their rocky start.

  Mary turned her back to the brisk breeze and sidled closer to Dwight as he made conversation with Tobias. Unconsciously, her husband slipped an arm around her and drew her warmly against his side while sipping his cider.

  The twins raced each other back to the family, giggling and playing as Pearl admonished them to calm down and behave.

  Hank helped himself to a cup of cider and eased in alongside Mary as he sipped. She turned her head and grinned at him, thinking what a wonderful time she was having, and how thankful she was that he was there with her.

  “Mmm, this is good. Way better than that stuff Pa used to make, huh?” he chuckled, prompting Mary to agree.

  Olivia took a sip and wrinkled her nose, teasing, “Oh darn, I’d been hoping it would be spiked.”

  Hank let out a guffaw. “Olivia Christiansen, you say the darndest things. Someday, that might get you in trouble.”

  Livvy sent him an impish grin. “So I’ve been told.”

  Mary laughed and shook her head at her sister-in-law’s antics. Just then, the baby decided to kick, quite hard, jostling Mary’s cup and making her spill a few drops. She laughed and reached for a napkin from the bar, brushing it across the front of her dress.

  “Active little cuss, huh?” Hank laughed. “When did you say you’re due to hatch?”

  “Two weeks, and I can’t wait. Around the 10th of January, Doc predicts.”

  Mary had answered without thinking it through. She’d been trying to dodge the setting of a specific date, for obvious reasons, and now as she realized what she’d said, her eyes widened and she took a quick sip of her drink as she strove to think of something else to talk about. No one seemed to notice her blunder, thank goodness. Dwight and Tobias were having a discussion about how they both hoped Republican James G. Blaine defeated Democrat Grover Cleveland in the upcoming presidential race.

  Hank took another sip as Olivia and the twins reached for goodies. Livvy sampled a piece of fruit cake, while the twins gobbled up Christmas cookies from a large platter on the bar. The mood was merry and festive.

  The musicians were just finishing up their song and as everyone clapped, they started up another carol.

  Hank’s brow furrowed and Mary saw him glance at her out of the corner of her eye. She held her breath in dread. Over the months, she had become adept at sensing when someone was about to ask her a difficult question. Oh no…

  “Pa was killed and you left Lincoln last March…you got here in April…where did you and your husband meet, huh Mary? When did you get married?” His voice had the slightest edge to it…

  Mary’s heart sped up and she gulped down a mouthful of cider as she sought out Dwight’s assistance; he had turned his head toward her when he heard the questions.

  Her eyes imploring, she saw her husband open his mouth to answer, but before he could, Grace announced loudly, “I know, Uncle Hank! They got married in July. Dwight wasn’t here and it was something called a proxy, because Mary was in some kind of trouble and Doc wanted to stop something called censure.” The child smiled proudly up at the adults surrounding her, thinking they would praise her grasp of the details.

  Mary shut her eyes for a moment and stifled the groan that wanted to escape. Her heart began to race again and she wanted nothing more than to run as far and as fast as she could.

  Livvy let out a horrified gasp and grabbed her sister, placing a hand over her mouth. “Sshh, Grace Ann!” she reprimanded, much too late. Mary opened her eyes and peeked at her brother’s face.

  Realization dawning—that Mary had already been with child when his brother-in-law had, after the fact, married her—Hank’s countenance turned stormy.

  Training his eyes incredulously on Mary, and then on her husband, Hank slammed his cup down on the bar and groused at Dwight, “You got my sister in the family way, and then you married her? You son of a—” he bit the last word off as he stepped forward and slammed a hard fist into Dwight’s jaw.

  Mary couldn’t believe her eyes! She screamed as her husband was knocked to the floor. He lifted his palm to the affected area in disbelief and mumbled, “What the…”

  Doc and Pearl, who had crossed to the other side of the room to greet friends, came running to see what the commotion was as people squealed and scooted back.

  The music screeched to a halt of sour notes.

  Hank stood there panting in fury, both fists at the ready, as he glared down at Dwight.

  “Nobody takes advantage of my sister without gettin’ a whoopin’ from me. Marryin’ her don’t take the shame away, Christiansen,” he spat.

  “Hank, please!” Mary gasped, mortified, as she reached for her brother’s arm to try and get him to calm down.

  Up and down the long room, people were staring—some with open mouths. Oh no…no no no… This was the nightmare she’d dreamed of many times—but had hoped and prayed wouldn’t happen. And now—for her own brother to be the catalyst made it even worse.

  Without looking back, Hank vigorously shrugged off her touch, causing Mary to nearly lose her balance. Thankfully, Doc caught her before she could topple over.

  That, however, immediately ignited Dwight’s own anger. He leapt to his feet and lunged at Hank, knocking him back with a hard right to the jaw as his eyes blazed with fury and he roared, “I’ll not stand by and let you manhandle my wife—even if you are her brother!”

  Hank came back swinging and the melee was on.

  “Oh no, stop! Stop, please!” Mary cried out, her hands flying up to her face as she watched these two men whom she loved so dearly go at one another with such viciousness. How could this be happening? “Hank! Dwight! Please don’t!” she begged, tears filling her eyes. She looked around frantically, “Oh, someone, please stop them!”

  Livvy, the twins, and several party guests squealed and hopped out of the way as the two men crashed onto the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, wrestling, punching, and grunting. Doc pulled Mary safely away from the pathway of destruction. Pearl hollered for them to stop. Pauline voiced her concerns. Tobias tried to step in and was nearly tripped.

  Finn and Sam finally managed to elbow their way through the crowd that had quickly circled the saloon-brawling men.

  Finn grabbed Dwight as the burly Sam gripped Hank, wrenching the two men away from one another.

  “Knock it off, both of you!” Finn barked.

  “What’s this all about? What’s going on?” Sam asked as Hank tried to yank free, but Sam held him in his lumberjack’s iron grip.

  “This jackanapes ruined my sister!” Hank raged.

  Dwight stood still within Finn’s grasp, gulping in air and swiping at his split lip with his shoulder as he glowered at Hank.

  “Shut your filthy mouth, Robinson,” he growled.

  “Dwight, Hank, this is not the place for this discussion,” Doc warned, as several party-goers began to whisper among themselves.

  “Boys, please, let’s take this up later. This is Christmas. This isn’t the time for fighting,” Pearl joined in as she drew near to Dwight’s side.

  Mary looked from one man to the other. Their clothing was torn and disheveled, and their bloody lips and glaring eyes—with faces already beginning to show bruising—told the story of their angst.

  She was at a loss as to what to do. Her brother—her best friend all of her life—was angrier than she’d ever seen him…but her husband, the man with whom she was in love, was just as angry. And it was all on account of her. She longed to go to each of them to soothe and console, and yet she also wanted to whack her brother on the head for starting the whole thing. Oh, what a mess! What an awful mess!

  And then…the thing that she had truly dreaded began. She could already hear the whispers.

  “They had relations before their marriage and she got with child?”

  “That’s what the brother said.”

  “We don’t really know anything about her, do we? We really don’t know what kind of a girl she is…”

  “They are outsiders, after all…probably from the wrong side of the tracks, as they say…”

  “Well, they’ll not be invited to my gatherings again, not after a display like this. And especially knowing what we do now,” a voice said near Mary and she turned to see Cora Haggler staring down her nose at her as if she smelled something distasteful. Just yesterday, the woman had hugged her goodbye at the boarding house and had given her a pair of hand knitted booties for the baby.

  Mary’s lips started to quiver and her eyes, already wet with tears, now filled and overflowed. She’d thought she’d been prepared, but the turning away of people she’d begun to think of as friends hurt more than she’d anticipated.

  Suddenly, she realized Doc had drawn himself up in righteous anger. He tightened his arm around her shoulders.

  “So, it’s started already, has it? The backbiting. The snide remarks. The judging and pronouncing a verdict without knowing all of the facts. The looking down at another as if you yourselves have never done anything that would cause you embarrassment if found out,” he waited as he pointedly made eye contact with several people in the circle who looked away sheepishly.

  “Hypocrites. All of you. And if Jesus walked in that door right now,” he jerked a thumb angrily toward the double doors of the building, “He’d tell you the same. He’d tell you to take the beam out of your own eye before you look down your nose at Mary—and you know it.”

  Reverend and Mrs. McKnight separated themselves from the crowd and came over to flank Doc and Mary in a show of support. These were followed by Charise and Beth Ann as well as Pauline and Tobias and several others.

  Pauline grasped Mary’s hand and held on tightly. Mary sent her a watery smile of gratitude.

  “Anyone here remember last week’s sermon?” the Reverend asked, letting his eyes sweep the crowd—all of them members of the church. “About the fact that God is faithful and just to forgive all sin when asked, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness? If HE forgives us, who are you to stand in judgment?”

  Doc nodded and mumbled in agreement, but he wasn’t finished. Mary trembled as he raised his right hand and pointed at Cora Haggler and several others before adding, “I want you all to understand something. And understand it well. In the short time since she’s been here, this young woman has become like a daughter to me. So, I’m giving all of you notice—if you speak against her, you’re slandering someone dear to me, and I’ll not allow it. If I hear one word against her, that person will have to make other arrangements for medical care, barring a life or death situation.” Several people in the crowd gasped, but he went right on. “Do I make myself clear? Don’t think I’m bluffing. You’ll have to get on the train and ride to Nebraska City and find a doctor to prescribe some cough medicine, pull a splinter, set and cast a broken bone, or anything else you need. My door will be closed to you.”

  No one moved or made a sound, except for Mary, who couldn’t stop her sniffles as tears slipped down her cheeks. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole. She crossed her free arm over her stomach, fighting back nausea. Her back also chose that moment to cramp from standing too long in one place. Oh God in Heaven, how could everything change so quickly? Help me, please! Get me out of here!

  Doc had one more rebuke to make. He turned to the two men who had started the ruckus. “And as for you two…frankly, Mr. Robinson,” he stared directly at Hank, “I’m beyond disappointed. For crying out loud, man, Mary’s your sister!” he bellowed.

  Hank had the grace to lower his head in shame, all the fight draining out as he belatedly realized what he had done. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Then, he raised his head enough to meet Mary’s eyes. “Sorry, Mary. I didn’t think. I…I’m s…sorry,” he stumbled, shaking his head as he mumbled, “Me and my big, stupid mouth.”

  “And you said my mouth would get me in trouble?” Olivia murmured, not quite under her breath, glaring at him.

  The Maynard brothers let both men loose and Dwight hastened over to Mary. Gently nudging Pauline aside, he took his wife fully in his arms as she burst into the sobs she could no longer hold back. The pain of the town’s disdain was more than she could handle.

  Dwight held her tightly and whispered calming words against her hair for a few moments before she felt him turn his face toward the still-circled, but somewhat contrite crowd. She kept her face pressed against his chest, unable to bear seeing their scorn.

  “None of you know anything about our business,” Dwight told them all, his voice still angry, but in a protective way that did more to soothe her than even Doc’s words of taking up for her had. “None of you know me or my wife. You don’t know she’s an honest, God fearing woman—” he hesitated for just a second and stared daggers at a person who let out a snicker. The man instantly lowered his head.

 

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