Chapter 16
Chapter 17.
Ian clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Well, most things that matter cannot be bought. Merry?" He gestured toward the crate.
Excitement replaced her irritation. Meredith half ran to the tree, stooped beside the crate, and rose. "We've saved the best for last. Here, Tucker."
His jaw dropped as she pressed a new Bible into his hands. He cleared his throat, then cleared it again. Emotions flashed across his features. "How?" he rasped.
She'd antic.i.p.ated his worrying about the cost and had a ready answer. "Ian offered to have his mother shop for me. Things are economical in Oregon, and keeping the secret from you has been fun."
Ian slapped Tucker on the back. "A Bible-now you can't get a more essential gift than that."
"And Ian gave you the chess pieces, so he upheld the Rafferty Christmas tradition- though I have to say, I think having you play chess is practical for me. You'll be too busy with the game to try juggling rocks. I'd rather spend time st.i.tching a sampler than dodging stones."
Tucker held fast to the Bible and cracked a smile.
"While he pores over that," Ian said, "why don't you and I go skate?"
"You have skates?"
He smiled. "My dad sent them to me. They're my impractical gift."
Within minutes, Ian had set several lamps on the bridge. The bridge always floated just a few feet off the water. Meredith looked at the sight and smiled. "It's hard to remember the bridge is frozen in place. The way the lanterns glow on it makes it look like a shooting star."
"I'd not thought of it that way, but you're right. I noticed instead how they set everything to sparkling-especially your eyes."
Meredith's heart skipped a beat. Could he be feeling more for me than just brotherly love?
He chuckled. "Don't be so surprised, Merry. You're a comely la.s.s." He started lacing on his skates. "Fiona always complains 'tis hard to get her skates on tight enough once she's bundled in layers to skate. Braden or I help her. Would you care for some help?"
"Why, yes. Yes, please. Thank you." Meredith couldn't figure him out. He'd complimented her and then compared her to his sister. What did that mean?
A few minutes later, he took her hand in his and helped her step onto the ice. "Ready?"
"I'm not sure. How do I balance on these?"
He gave her an astonished look. "Haven't you ever skated?"
Meredith shook her head.
"You'll do fine. You're always so graceful; it won't be hard at all. Wait here a second and watch my feet. You don't step. Simply glide one foot a little from the front to the side, then the other."
He slid across the ice. "One foot, then the other."
"You make it look easy."
"It is. Here. Hold on to my arm."
Meredith scooted off the bridge and onto her feet. As Ian threaded her hand through the crook of his arm, her legs started to wobble and her feet started to slide. "Oh no!"
"It's okay. I have you."
She clung to him for dear life.
"See? You're doing fine. You're staying upright."
But for how long? She didn't ask.
"Standing is hardest."
"If I can't stand, how can I move? I-I...whoa!"
"Here." He transferred her right hand into his right hand and wrapped his left arm about her waist. "How's this?"
Wonderful. Just as quickly as that reply flashed through her mind, Meredith felt her left foot betray her. "I'm like a newborn foal. All wobbly and awkward."
"Not for long."
"Ian?" She held to him in desperation. "If I fall, you'll fall."
"So what? I've fallen hundreds of times."
She jerked away. "That's hardly rea.s.sur-ah! Ah! Ohhh!" Her shriek echoed in the air as she tumbled.
Ian sat beside her on the ice. "Not half as bad as you feared, was it?"
"Twice as bad," she whispered.
"Are you hurt, honey?"
Honey. He called me "honey." Warmth rushed through her.
"Merry." He tilted her face up toward his. "Are you hurt?"
She blinked then ducked her head.
His finger tickled her cheek. "It's only me. You don't have a thing to be embarra.s.sed over." He stood and helped her up. "It gets cold down there, doesn't it?"
She nodded and clamped both of her hands around his forearm. "What if the ice isn't thick enough? I could fall and make us crash through."
"A dab of a la.s.s like you?" His laughter rang in the nippy air. "There's no danger of that. Come now."
He made it look so simple. He skated backward and let her hang on to him. Knees and ankles locked, she allowed him to tow her out a ways.
"Merry, you're stiff from the middle clear down to your toes, but the top half of you is bobbing like a washerwoman at the scrub board. Shoulders back. A little more. Yes. Excellent!"
Eventually, she tried to glide her feet the way he did. She plunged down onto the ice and yanked him down along with her. "I'm going to break your neck."
"No, you won't."
Meredith glared at him. "Oh yes, I will. If I live to get off this ice, I'm going to study the Bible and see if there is any situation where murder is condoned."
Ian had the nerve to laugh.
Just about the time Meredith decided to tell him she was an abject failure, she managed eight strokes before stumbling. Amazingly, she didn't fall.
"You're getting a feel for it. You're doing wonderfully."
Just then, Erik Kauffey wandered over. "Well, look at you!"
"Merry Christmas!" Merry and Ian said in unison.
Kauffey motioned toward them. "Same to you. That looks like loads of fun."
"Merry's got natural talent. This is her first time."
Kauffey hooted. "I strapped a pillow to my backside the first few times." He laughed so hard he coughed.
Tucker came out of the cabin. "What's going on?"
"I hoped you'd all be in the Christmas spirit and be willing to trade. I got a plug of tobacco and two peppermint sticks."
"Neither of us uses tobacco." Tucker gave Ian a questioning look.
Ian hitched his shoulder. "Go on ahead and d.i.c.ker over a cup of coffee, Tucker."
Meredith giggled. "You don't truly think the two of them will have only one cup apiece, do you?"
"It's Christmas. Let them enjoy themselves. I sure am enjoying myself."
"This is sort of fun."
Ian kept praising her. He stayed close and helped her up over and over again. Finally, they managed to skate together halfway around the circle. "We're coming close to the bridge. Do you want to go around one more time?"
Her feet and legs shouted, No! But he had his arm around her. Meredith rasped, "Okay. One more time."
"That's my girl!"
Oh, if only I were your girl. That lovely thought kept her going and sustained her almost all the way around. Then a terrible thought struck. I have no business wanting to be more than a friend to Ian. I'm not really a friend, either. Not a true friend. He has no idea about what happened.
"Here we go. I'll glide you right next to the bridge. At the last moment, just hold me. I'll spin and slip you right down on the planks."
Moments later, Ian knelt on the ice and unlaced her skates. "How are your feet? Do the skates rub anything?"
"They're comfortable. Truly, they are."
"Good. We'll come skate often." He sat beside her and changed out of his own skates and back into his boots. He tied the laces of the skates together, carried them over his shoulder, and helped her up. "The air is bracing, but as you skate, you stay reasonably warm."
"That's hard to imagine."
"What's hard to imagine is that you've never ice-skated. Now that I think about it, it makes sense. I grew up thinking skating and winter were synonymous. Did you always live in Texas?"
"Most of my life." She didn't want to go into details.
"So tell me more."
She shook her head. "I'm boring, Ian. Nothing about me is worth knowing." Liar! Conscience aching, she stammered, "I'm realizing my clothes are damp. I don't want to catch a chill."
"Go change right away. Better still, go on up to my cabin. I'll go fetch you dry clothes."
"No!"
"But your cabin won't be warm enough."
"I'll bundle up and maybe take a nap. I have a feeling you and Tucker will keep me up late tonight when you start playing chess. You certainly did when you played cribbage!"
"All right. I'll walk you-"
"Nonsense. You need to go change, too."
Later that evening, they ate leftover roast. As a special treat, Meredith watered down a can of Borden's milk and added cocoa. They all sipped hot chocolate and had a piece of fudge.
"You're quiet tonight, la.s.s."
Meredith startled.
"You wore her out skating." Tucker turned toward her. "I'll go on over to Clemment's place tomorrow morning and get the dishes."
"I'm still not sure we should have let Mr. Kauffey drop off the food."
"Clemment's odd, but I don't consider him dangerous." Ian took another sip and hummed appreciatively. "Old Abrams, on the other hand-you get a rifle in his hands, and we'd all better be caught up on our prayers!"
Tucker gave Ian a funny look. "Sis meant that she was afraid Kauffey probably ate the food himself."
"No, no. You're both mistaken. I fear Mr. Kauffey might be taking the ague. His voice was rough, and he was coughing. The thought of him walking any extra distance concerns me."
"The ague?" Tucker shook his head. "It's tobacco. He smokes it whenever he can get some, chews it the rest of the time. That causes a gravelly voice and hacking."
"I've seen that before." Ian unrolled the cloth they'd drawn a checkerboard on. "So, Tucker, are we playing draughts or chess tonight?"
"Draughts. Tomorrow we can play chess. I want to be well rested. It's a complicated game."
"Aye. Then again, so is cribbage. Once you memorize all the rules, things come quickly."
Tucker gave Ian an a.s.sessing look. "You sound like a man who enjoys the game."