Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. Though if Pet Fly and Saban want to give me a really nice Christmas gift I'd be most grateful.

Series: Cascade Tribe

Warnings: Don't think there are any for this one. Random acts of sentimentality and smarm ahead.

Just What He Wanted

By Mele

"I want the red velvet dress! You promised the red velvet dress!" the little girl's strident voice grated on Jim Ellison's nerves, seeming to fill the shop with the unpleasant tones of greed and overindulgence.

"Honey, it's not the right size, and they can't get any more until next year. But look how beautiful this green one is," her mother attempted to soothe her, holding up a lacy, frilly, green concoction that was ridiculously expensive for an item that would be worn only once or twice.

"I want the red dress!" the girl wailed, prompting her mother to usher her out of the shop at last, murmuring assurances that perhaps her father could ride to Seattle and look for a dress there. Ellison rubbed his aching head thankfully as he watched them leave.

"Quite a piece of work, ain't she?" the shopkeeper asked with a half grin, tilting his chin after his departing customers.

"Let's just say I'd like to give her something red," Jim muttered, placing a couple of items on the counter. "Though I suspect the problem is most likely her mother."

"You got that right, my friend. You definitely got that right. Miranda is completely spoiling that child, but everyone's too intimidated to tell her so. It's the girl who will pay in the end, no doubt of that. Is this all you need, Mr. Ellison?"

The Sentinel looked around the gaily decorated store with a weary gaze. Was the flour and dried beans all he needed? Yes. Was it all he could afford at the moment? Yes. Was it all he wanted?

No.

Five months before he and Sandburg had encountered the remains of a wagon train that had been brutally attacked, killing all the folks present. Hidden in a cave the Sentinel found five small children, none of them yet six years old, orphaned by the attack. They had taken the youngsters to the nearest orphanage, planning to leave them in the capable care of folks who knew about raising children, but there was simply no more room. The end result was that Ellison and Sandburg ended up bringing the children back to Cascade, and two weeks ago Jim had signed the paperwork officially adopting all five.

Cheerfully ignoring the town gossips, the two men had hired Hannah to help raise their young charges, and renovations to the house provided adequate room for the youngsters. Tanya, Zack, and Zack's cousin Aisha, were all the offspring of freed slaves, while Trini's and Adam's parents were former railroad workers seeking new starts in the open country of Oregon and Washington, so Jim's newly adopted children were all of different racial backgrounds than the Cascade born and raised Ellison.

The past few months had been financially difficult as the renovations to the house and attempts to establish a healthy herd of cattle had met with numerous expensive setbacks. At least now it appeared the worst was behind them, and Jim was hopeful the coming year would be more prosperous. But at the moment, the day before Christmas, things were still pretty bleak, and Ellison was remembering the elaborate Christmases of his youth bitterly, knowing he couldn't do half as well for the children he'd taken in as his own.

"Mr. Ellison? Was that all for you today?" the shopkeeper's worried voice interrupted the Sentinel's thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

"Oh, yeah, that's it. How much do I owe you?" he replied, reaching for his rather deflated money pouch.

The man told him the total, which Ellison paid without comment, looking at the few meager coins that remained and wondering if he could justify spending it on some treats for the youngsters. Reason won out over desire, and he replaced the money and hefted his purchase without comment.

"Just a moment, if you would please," the elderly proprietor said with a soft smile. "I almost forgot!" He reached for a decorative jar behind the counter and removed the top, revealing a number of candy canes; bright red and white, and wondrously festive. "This is my Christmas treat to myself, giving these to the children of Cascade. You've got five little ones out there, don't you?" he queried.

Ellison nodded and watched as the man extracted some of the colorful treats and quickly wrapped them for the trip home. He took the small package warily, pride battling gratitude until he saw the genuine light of generosity in the older man's eyes, and understood this was not charity.

"Thank you, this is very generous," he said, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Merry Christmas to you and your family."

"Thank you, Mr. Ellison, and same to you and yours."

TSTSTS

Hannah greeted Jim at the house, reaching eager hands out for the flour, having run out in the middle of dinner preparations. He gave her the needed provisions, and requested that she hide the smaller packet containing the candy in the cupboard for later, when they would put out the children's gifts. Riding on to the barn to unsaddle his horse he was irritated to find a bucket of white wash left out where he could have stumbled over it, the liquid already thickening into a useless mess.

"Hey! Who the hell just wasted all this whitewash?" he called out angrily, his frustration again bubbling to the surface.

"We're sorry Papa Jim," came Zack's anxious voice as he and the other four children hurried out from the tack room at the back of the barn.

The name 'Papa Jim' had been decided on after some experimentation with different forms of address by the children. They weren't comfortable with 'Papa' or 'Daddy' or similar names, and Ellison wasn't comfortable with them calling him 'Jim', while 'Mr. Ellison' was far too formal. By the same method they'd fallen to calling Sandburg 'Uncle Blair', since the younger man was little less strict an authority figure than the Sentinel was.

The tall man now looked down at the five small children arrayed in front of him, taking in the whitewash covered hands and splattered clothing, seeing the suppressed glee in their expressions, and felt his ire rise even more. Though the clothing was obviously their oldest, it wasn't like they had so much they could be destroying any, and Hannah would never be able to get all the paint out of those outfits.

"Just what do you think you are doing? Look at yourselves! Hannah is going to skin you alive, if I don't do it for her first. Do you think clothes just grow on trees? Or do you like wearing stained clothes? Well? What were you thinking?" he demanded, letting his temper take control for a moment.

Five pairs of tear filled dark eyes rose to meet him, all vestiges of good cheer gone, and it was Tanya who softly confessed their purpose. "We were making your Christmas present. We wanted it to be a surprise. We didn't mean to ruin everything. I'm sorry." A couple of suppressed sniffles punctuated her words as tears began to slide down youthful cheeks.

Oh, damn.

Feeling all of two inches tall, Ellison sat down on a nearby bale of straw and cast about frantically for a way to undo the pain his harsh words had caused.

"I thought I'd told you guys you didn't need to do anything for me," he reminded them in a far more gentle voice than he'd been using.

"We wanted to surprise you with something you've always wanted," Trini told him wistfully.

"Oh? What makes you guys think I don't already have what I've always wanted?" he asked, drawing them all in closer.

"You do?" Aisha looked disappointed at that.

"Yeah, I do. I got it right here," he announced, gathering all five into a warm hug.

Squeals and returned laughter greeted that announcement as tears gave way to renewed cheer. Jim made sure to make contact with each child, letting them know they were all recognized and loved individually, and took comfort in the affection he felt returned.

"But you can't unwrap us on Christmas morning," Zack pointed out.

"Wanna bet? That's what buttons are for," Jim countered, starting to unbutton the startled boy's shirt before Zack could react. The dark youth gave a squeak of surprise and dodged out of the Sentinel's reach with a giggle.

"And look, I could put bows on you," Ellison added, gently tugging Trini's long braid around to display the red bow attached to the end. "And could even use this to hang you on the mantle like a stocking," he concluded, pulling Adam's suspenders playfully.

"Papa Jim, you're silly!" Tanya informed him, squealing in mock fear when the big man made as if to pull her ponytail.

"I'll have you know I am NEVER silly," he mock scolded them with an exaggerated scowl. He sat back for a moment and surveyed the group of youngsters in front of him, pleased that their good spirits had returned.

"I'm sorry, kids, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. But next time you want to use whitewash, come tell one of us adults and we'll help you so that you're clothes are protected at least, okay?" he said seriously.

"Yes, Sir," came a chorus of childish voices, and Sentinel senses weren't required to see that they were sincere.

"So, where's my present?" he asked abruptly, holding out a hand imperiously.

"It's not Christmas yet, you can't have it," Aisha told him sternly. "You need to go away so we can finish it."

"But I want it now," Jim insisted with a pout that didn't fool the children for a moment.

"No, Sir, you have to wait. Uncle Blair said so," Tanya replied with a grin.

"Uncle Blair said so, huh? Well, I guess I'll have to leave you all to your doings and go have a word or two with Uncle Blair."

Watching the youngsters retreat back to the tack room Jim quickly unsaddled his horse, leaving the saddle and bridle on the straw bale since he suspected the kids would object to him going in the tack room, and headed toward the house, his own mood lightening.

TSTSTS

"Hannah, you did an amazing job with this," Blair said quietly as he and Jim worked with the dark haired woman to decorate the Christmas tree and display the gifts. Hannah's skillful needle work had created three lovely dresses, and two nice shirts, from some less than high quality material Jim had gotten in trade for some carpentry work. In addition Blair had fashioned a couple of whistles for the boys from reeds, and dolls for the girls. Hannah had chipped in with doll dresses from the remains of the material, and had made a batch of cookies special for the holiday. Bringing in the package of candy canes, Jim put one on each small pile of gifts, surprised to find three left over.

"Hmm, guess he figured there were actually more than five children, eh?" Blair laughed, taking his treat with a satisfied smile.

"I haven't had one of these since I was a girl," Hannah noted, sniffing it in much the same manner a man would sniff a fine cigar. "Ah, I'd forgotten how good they smell!"

"We should save them for tomorrow morning," Jim noted, putting his in his stocking, and looking critically at the result. "Why don't we put the cookies, candy, and toys in the stockings, and the clothes on the tree?"

The task quickly completed, Hannah excused herself to go to bed, leaving the two men to talk quietly by the dwindling fire.

"Did you have big Christmases when you were a kid, Chief?" the Sentinel asked after a period of silence.

"Depended. Sometimes Mom would be working for a wealthy family, who would include the servants in the holiday celebrations. Other times we'd be doing good to just have a roof over our heads and some food to eat. Since she had been raised in the Jewish faith she didn't ever make a big deal out of it, really. If there was a celebration around, fine. If not, that was fine too. How about you?" he asked, realizing they'd never talked about this. It was, after all, their first Christmas together after a year of huge change.

"Oh, yeah. William Ellison had to have a Christmas fit to make anyone jealous. The house was decorated to the rafters, gifts were given and received by the score it seemed. Candy, cakes, cookies, every kind of sweet you can imagine. Christmas dinner was usually a huge affair, all the neighbors – well, the wealthy ones at least – would come over, it was THE event of the year. My mother loved to give parties, play the perfect hostess. Then, Steven and I would get our gifts in the morning, a dozen or more for each of us. And every single one the exact same thing." Jim's moody gaze fell on the flickering fire and Blair was surprised at the bitter sadness he saw there.

"What do you mean, they were the exact same thing?" he prodded gently.

"I mean, Steven and I would get the same gifts, whether or not they were appropriate. One year Steven wanted a model train, it was a very big deal to him, all he talked about. So, come Christmas morning, he got the train. And so did I, even though I didn't want one, had no interest in it. The same thing when I wanted a new saddle. I got my saddle, and so did Steven, even though there was nothing wrong with the one he had. It was so…impersonal. Later, after Mom left, things changed, and gifts became Dad's way of playing Steven and I against each other. If you were the one in favor, you got the good gifts, if you weren't…" he voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Jim. Somehow it sounds like I had better Christmases even when we had absolutely nothing."

The older man just gave a soft disgusted snort and continued his contemplation of the flickering flames, until Blair went upstairs with a soft 'good night'. Rising to put out the lamps before retiring himself, he first wandered into the boy's room, looking in on the two little boys sleeping the sleep of the innocent. On the table beside Zack's bed was a small, framed photo, showing the boy at about age three with his parents, the posed photo looking stiff and formal, but despite that Jim could see the kindness in the dark faces. On the shelf above Adam there rested a small book, pocket sized, which Jim knew contained selected quotes from several philosophers. The little boy had had the book in his pocket the morning of the attack on the wagon train, and now it was the only reminder of his old life, just as the photo was for Zack.

The Sentinel took a moment to reflect on what these youngsters had experienced this past year; loss of family and home and history. And yet there was still so much joy in them all, laughter was the most frequent sound they made. Their young brows were smooth and untroubled in slumber, and a hint of a smile still ghosted around the corners of Zack's mouth. Jim felt a wave of awe at the resilience of youth and the inherent optimism of life that allowed them to greet each new day with the seeming belief that 'something good would happen to me today.'

Checking in on the girls, he found all three deeply asleep, their individual 'rooms' each neat and somehow reflective of their individuality. Trini's almost Spartan neatness, with only a porcelain doll on her shelf as decoration, appealed to Jim's sense of order. The doll had belonged to Trini's mother, and had been found miraculously unharmed amidst the wreckage of her family's belongings. Aisha's space was as cluttered as Trini's was not; Zack's cousin was a packrat who couldn't bear to throw anything away. Pretty rocks, pictures drawn in school, a china coffee cup missing its handle, and assorted pieces of this and that decorated her area, only being removed if replaced by something else. The seeming disarray was uncomfortable to the Sentinel, but Blair had once commented that it reminded him of his own rooms when growing up, and since Aisha was happy with the mess Ellison made no complaints. He sometimes wondered though if the little girl's fondness for hanging on to everything was partly because she had found nothing of her old life to bring with her after their rescue. Tanya was closer to Trini's tidiness, with a few well chosen items making her space personal, including a colorful shawl hanging on one wall. She'd been wearing the shawl, woven by her grandmother two years before, when they'd been found. It was a beautiful piece of work, and helped make her area more cheerful and homey.

Listening to the soft sounds of the girls' slumber, the Sentinel basked in the comfort of knowing his charges were safe. He worried about the girls, what sorts of futures they would have in a world that offered limited opportunities to women, and even fewer to those who were not white. He'd never really considered what choices the cooks and other servants in his childhood home might have had, that they may have once been bright children with dreams of more of a future than servitude and hard labor. Standing in the quiet wing on that Christmas Eve he sent up a fervent prayer that his girls would have a chance to live their dreams, whatever they may be.

Shaking off the sudden melancholy he checked that the doors were secure and the lamps out before climbing upstairs to his own bed and thankfully dreamless rest.

TSTSTS

"Thank you!"

"Thank you! This is perfect!"

"Thanks!"

Happy voices filled the living room as the five children were presented with their new clothes and their filled stockings. Hugs abounded and loud kisses were lavished as the youngsters reveled in their presents, seemingly pleased beyond reason with their haul.

Hannah flushed with pleasure when the girls insisted on trying on the new dresses, and soon all three were parading around soaking up the compliments Jim and Blair sent their way. Hannah had made each dress different enough so they would not appear to be wearing uniforms, and had done well in suiting them to the girl's differing tastes. The new shirts were also donned, and Zack's exaggerated primping caused a howl of laughter.

The boys took delight in the new whistles, already experimenting with playing different tunes, while the girls were enthralled by the dolls, and plotting how to make some new clothes for them. Hannah had sneaked new shirts for Jim and Blair onto the tree, and was in turn surprised herself by the warm and elegant shawl the men had gotten for her.

Thinking they were finished, the adults made as to start breakfast, since present opening had to be done first, before inconsequentials such as eating could be considered. But the five children immediately stopped that plan, insisting the adults stay seated while they brought in their special gifts.

Leaving Trini and Tanya to 'guard' against peeking, there was the distinct clatter of the children hurrying in and out through the kitchen, then Zack's voice wafted in.

"Hannah, close your eyes!"

The good-hearted woman complied, and soon felt something solid set on her lap with the command "Okay, now you can look." She opened her eyes to find herself in possession of a small wooden box, about ten inches square, and whitewashed. The top just sat on the base, but that top was carefully decorated with dried plants and pinecones artfully arranged in a heart shaped pattern.

"Do you like it? We all worked on it," Aisha asked anxiously, while they were all having a hard time standing still in their excitement.

"My gosh, kids, this is beautiful! How in the world did you do this? Why, I've never had such a fine gift in all my life," she declared, setting it carefully on the table beside her before hugging and kissing her small charges gratefully.

"We got the wood from Reverend Taggart, and he sawed it the right size for us, and Adam put it together and we all painted it and worked on the decorations," Zack explained breathlessly bouncing a bit on his toes.

"Well, it's just the most perfect thing I've ever seen! Thank you," Hannah smiled, still hugging whichever child got close enough to be grabbed.

"Now for Uncle Blair! Close your eyes!"

The process was repeated and the younger man was presented with an open box, this one oblong and open and natural, about two inches deep, with the sides decorated with pinecones and bark in a rough pattern that was surprisingly attractive.

"Hey, this is great!" he enthused, inspecting it closely. "You got all sorts of different species of bark here, amazing!"

"It's a place for you to put all that stuff that ends up in your pockets, so it won't get lost like it usually does," Zack explained with a huge grin.

"Well, this is perfect for that, thank you!" As Hannah had before him he gave each child a grateful thank you, honestly touched at the effort they had put into his gift.

"Now for Papa Jim!" If anything they sounded even more excited.

The Sentinel obediently closed his eyes, not surprised when a solid, flat item was placed on his lap. He opened his eyes to find himself looking at a whitewashed plank of wood, covered with cotton and decorated with a few dried pieces of brush representing plants. But the main attraction was a snowman made of pinecones that had been thoroughly whitewashed and stacked one on the other in the traditional snowman shape. They were carefully attached to each other, and small pieces of coal served as eyes, and a whittled stick was the nose. There was even a small scarf tied around its 'neck' and more coal for buttons, and the mouth. Impressed, Jim realized they'd even fashioned a tiny pipe for the snowman to smoke.

"My, God, kids, this is amazing! You can be proud of your work here," he said with genuine awe.

"Is it okay? Is it what you wanted? You said you wanted a snowman, right?" Zack asked anxiously, as the others crowded around him to look at Jim with anticipation.

"How…how did you know?" Jim asked, praying the children would explain where they got that idea. While he was touched and impressed by their gift, he had no special fondness for snowmen, in fact he rarely had ever built one, finding the effort to be ultimately a waste of time.

"You told Uncle Blair that, but we were right there," Zack explained. Seeing Ellison's confused expression the little boy elaborated. "You said dreams were like snowmen, and you wanted one that wouldn't melt. So we made you a snowman that can't melt," he explained with perfect child logic.

The Sentinel felt his stomach tighten as he understood where the idea had taken root in the children's minds. It had been in August, when the expensive bull they'd purchased, with the hope of building a strong herd, had had to be destroyed after breaking a leg. The loss was a financial disaster for the struggling ranch and the final blow in a series of problems. He heard the conversation again in his mind…

"Dammit, this is just the last straw, Sandburg. How the hell can we make a go of this when everything is conspiring against us? What the hell was I thinking, that I could make this ranch successful! We're going to starve and the kids right along with us," the frustrated man growled. He was tired and discouraged, still trying to get used to having the responsibilities of children depending on him.

"Jim, keep your voice down, do you want them to hear you? I know this is bad, okay, but we just got to hang in there. We still have plenty of vegetables, and at least we can eat the bull, so it's not a total waste. You just got to keep plugging along, keep working toward your goals, your dreams."

"Dreams! What the hell use are dreams? Dreams are like snowmen, you put all that effort into them and what do you get in the end? Nothing. Just wasted effort."

"Oh, come on, Jim, have a little faith. Things will work out," the younger man said encouragingly.

Still frustrated Ellison was ready to launch a scathing retort when he realized the children were just outside the door, and he had enough self-control to not want them to hear him ranting at Blair. Still the older man couldn't help but get in the last word.

"Oh, really, Chief? When's the last time you saw a snowman in August? I've never had a snowman that didn't melt."

With the literalness of childhood they'd heard those words and taken them at face value, and had labored to give Jim the one thing they 'knew' he wanted. Tears sprang to his eyes as he carefully set his present aside and hugged his children to him.

"It's exactly what I wanted!" he told them, unable to stop smiling, ignoring Blair and Hannah's slightly confused expressions.

That night, after the children had been tucked into bed and Hannah and Blair had also retired to their own rooms, the Sentinel stood by the fireplace, looking at the snowman that love had built, running reverent fingers over the rough cones, marveling at the ingenuity of the youngsters. In that quiet Christmas night he made a promise to always remember this snowman, and what it stood for.

And to thank God for dreams that didn't melt in the light of reality.

The End.