I don't own the characters-I just like to hang out with them
This Christmas
Snow fell softly from the dark, winter sky layering the gloomy Dodge City street in a covering of gleaming whiteness and hushing the sound of footsteps in the still night. Christmas Eve was over and the town's citizens had long since retired to their warm beds. The church bells were quiet and the echo of children's voices as they raced down the street in their excitement was gone. The light in Doc Adams' office had just winked out and the doors to the Long Branch were closed and shuttered; its occupants snug and warm in their rooms for the night, as they too were anxious for the new day to come.
A solitary figure moved stealthily down the wind whipped street, his footsteps visible in the foot deep snow. Stopping to pull his coat tighter about him, he smiled in satisfaction at the realization he wasn't too late after all. True, Christmas Eve had passed but the promise of Christmas morning hung heavy in the air. Hitching the old, worn bag he carried higher on his strong shoulders, he trudged through the drifts, shivering as the icy wind tore through his worn coat.
Pausing outside the Long Branch Saloon, he put his ear to the doors and listened, smiling as he heard only silence from within. Opening the locked doors was no problem and he stepped inside, glad to be out of the wind for a moment.
The saloon was cast in deep shadows but he knew his way about as if he had lived there all his life. In the corner, he made out the shape of a fairly large Christmas tree, complete with decorations he knew had been lovingly placed there earlier.
He stopped by the well-worn bar and rubbed a hand quickly over his mouth, grimacing at the realization he had missed the festive party earlier and wondered briefly if he had been missed in all the hubbub.
Taking a package from the pack he carried, he placed it on the bar, stopping to adjust a ribbon on the outside. He stood back and smiled, ticked his head and continued on up the stairs, silent as the snow that fell outside.
Outside each door, he placed a package just as gaily wrapped as the one below. All were of the same size save for one that was a fair bit larger than the others. Placing it carefully outside one of the rooms, he reached a hand out and touched the ribbons, chuckling softly to himself. Looking up to the closed door, he smiled then backed carefully down the hall and down the steps.
Stopping at the Christmas tree for a moment, he gently touched one of the decorations and regret filled him for a moment as he thought of the earlier festivities he had missed. Shaking his head slightly, he looked about the shadowy saloon. Noting quickly that all was fine, he walked through the batwing doors, pulled them closed behind him and locked them securely.
The bag he carried was lighter but still there were presents hidden in its depths and he hurried to finish his tasks before the morning light. Humming a little a song to himself, he walked on to the end of the boardwalk. Covered by the ever deepening snow, its edge lay hidden underneath the mantle of white. Jumping over the mound he landed on the other side and did a little dance, kicking his heels in the air for a second in sheer joy of the season.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs that led to Doc Adams', the man stood staring up for a moment then began to climb slowly up the once cleared steps that had become icy in the deepening night as more snow fell from the pitch black sky. On the second to last step he slipped, but regained his balance quickly and leaned on the cold wall for a second to make sure he wouldn't slip again. Pushing himself away, he reached a hand out to the door, not surprised to find it unlocked, and opened it carefully, hesitating when it gave a soft squeak in the still night. Hearing nothing from the other room- its occupant sound asleep judging by the soft snores coming from within- the figure walked slowly to the desk laden with papers and journals and placed a small package on top. Looking at it wistfully, the man shook his head sadly as if in regret and backed away, glancing behind him for a brief second at the closed bedroom door behind him.
Noting the harsh chill in the room, he stopped to add a few pieces of wood to the burned down stove fire, stoked it and closed the door quietly.
Glancing back once more, he left and descended the stairs, careful to not fall again, and walked further down the street to the Marshal's office. Standing outside, he put his ear to the door and listened for a time then opened the door slowly and peered about the darkened interior. In the corner bunk a lump of blankets and the sound of heavy breathing told him the man within was sound asleep.
Stepping carefully inside, he closed the door and crept to the desk where posters and stacks of papers were strewn about and laid a box on top. He glanced about the dim room for a moment and then went to the side door and left as quietly as he had come in.
Standing out in the alley, he felt in his bag and noted just two more presents inside. Smiling, he knew these two would be the easiest to deliver and he trudged through the deepening snow to the livery where the last presents were placed, the recipients blissfully unaware.
His night's work was done and the man yawned, the activity of the long evening catching up with him. Leaving the shelter of the livery for a moment, he stood in the street glancing up and down the vacant, quiet street of his adopted town. Closing his eyes for a moment, a feeling of contentment stole over him as he remembered the many past Christmases with his own "real" family and the few he had spent here in Dodge City with his "adopted" family. Raising his face to the sky, he laughed out loud as a snowflake caught him on the nose.
Feeling the lure of sleep, he stretched, yawned mightily and headed to his cozy bed in the livery with the satisfaction that this year was different than all the others he had spent in Dodge City. This year, he could join fully in the true spirit of the season. This year, for the first time, he had presents to give the friends that had come to mean the world to him. This year would be a Christmas he would never forget, not for what he would receive, but for what he gave and for who he gave it to.
Merry Christmas one and all!