In short order, the fire was extinguished, and the men rejoined their families back at the house. When Monroe stepped up to the porch, he found himself flooded with questions. The large man simply held up his hand to silence his wife and brood before speaking.
"From what we can see, the damage isn't all that bad. Gideon and Frank are going to come by after church tomorrow to help me figure out what all I'll need ta fix it, and they agreed to lend a hand in rounding the horses back up."
"Sorry I just let them go like that, Pa."
The big, brawny man placed his hand on the boy's head and ruffled his blond locks.
"You did good just to get them out. We'll find 'em. Don't worry yourself. I'm just grateful that no one was injured. Things could have been a whole lot worse. When it's all said and done, I think we can chalk this one up to a Christmas miracle."
One look at his guilt riddled son, and Monroe called Jasper up from the porch step. Enveloping the youth in his arms, he crushed the boy against his body while running his hard calloused fingers through his son's unruly hair.
"I could have lost you, boy. There ain't nothin' in this world that be worth that."
"I'm sorry, Pa. I never meant to scare ya, and about the barn..."
"Accidents happen, but what have I told ya about lanterns in the loft?"
"They don't belong, or if they be needed, they're to hang on the main post away from the hay and straw."
"Do you understand now, why I told you that?"
"Yes, sah," Jasper muttered into the broad chest.
"Hopefully this has put enough of a fright in ya, so you'll remember to put things where they belong next time."
The boy nodded and breathed a soft sigh, before he heard the other shoe fall in the form of Gideon Casey.
The man stood several feet from the touching scene and cleared his throat.
"Monroe, can I see you over here for just a couple of minutes?"
"Of course, Gid." Kissing the crown of his son's head, the man let Jasper go and followed his neighbor over towards a tree.
Jasper watched the mildly animated conversation, then saw his father tap his toe against something on the ground before the man looked over at him. The clenched jaw was very telling to the youngster who suddenly lowered his gaze.
"Jasper. Come here, son."
His feet felt like lead, but somehow he managed to travel the short distance it took to reach his father.
"Son, care ta explain this?"
Jasper swallowed hard as he looked down at the empty soot coated whiskey bottle and shook his head in response.
"Well you had best rethink that, because this is going to be much harder if you make me have to drag it out of you. Talk, boy. Where did that come from?"
Jasper wanted to answer, but his nausea was back, and the flipping of his stomach made talking more difficult.
"Zachariah, get your tail over here," Gideon demanded gruffly, and his boy scurried over to comply.
"You been drinkin' what you know you ain't supposed to?"
The child began to nod, but the stress of the moment proved to be too much for his system to handle. Zach's small body heaved, and all too soon the evidence of his misdeed was dripping off the toe of Monroe's boot.
"I hope you feel better, boy, because things just went from bad to worse for your back end," his father growled, while taking hold of the redheaded youngster's arm. "Come on. You and I are gonna take a walk behind the barn. We need to have us a little talk. I know I've taught you better, so why you gave into this foolishness, I'll never understand, but I promise that you'll think twice should there come a next time."
"No, Paw. I won't do it again. I didn't even like it. Please, Paw, don't whip me. Not here."
The boy's pleas fell on deaf ears as Gideon continued to march his son to the far side of the barn while beginning to unfasten his belt. A few seconds later, the snap of leather and a high pitched wail filled the night, bringing tears to Jasper's eyes.
"That's on you, boy. I take it this was all your idea?"
"Yes, sah," he finally muttered as he found his voice.
"That didn't belong to you, did it?" the large man asked while rocking the bottle with his toe.
"No, sah."
"What happens when you take it upon yerself to acquire what doesn't belong to you?"
The distance snap of the belt seemed answer enough for Jasper, who bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but remained silent.
"And how do you think I should deal with you nearly gittin' yerself killed?"
"I don't know, sah."
"I think that you do, Jasper." Sad, soft brown eyes turned up to Monroe and nearly broke his heart, but before he could falter, the man calmly ordered, "Go wait for me in the woodshed, boy."
Knowing better than to argue, Jasper bowed his head and had taken a few steps before his mother placed a hand on his father's arm.
"Monroe, it's Christmas. I know that he deserves a good tanning, but don't you think it can wait?"
"Sorry, Cat, but I think now is the best time to settle accounts. It's best to address it while this is all still fresh in his head. Besides, if I wait, Jasper will think holidays mean he can get away with his mischief."
"I don't think that, Pa."
"Then why did you sneak whiskey from the house to go play drinking games with Zachariah if you weren't thinkin' you would git away with it?"
"We just wanted to be like the rest of the menfolk."
"Then you would have been drinking with the men in the house, but instead you were doing it in hiding."
Monroe ground his teeth, but felt a little of his anger diminish. Releasing a huff of a breath to carry away his pent up frustration and worry, the man crouched down and called for the boy to return. Down on Jasper's level, he looked his son in the eyes and spoke in a gruff, soft tone.
"Boy, don't be in such a rush to grow. You're wishing your life away. Enjoy what you have while you can. It goes by quick enough without you having to hurry it along. Have fun being a young'un, Jasper. You'll be a man soon enough."
Standing back up, Monroe turned his son toward the shed and delivered a firm shot to the seat of his britches.
"Now git. After we settle up, you can say your good nights and git yerself to bed. Ya know that Santa won't come if you're still awake."
"Santa will be taking one look at the barn and load any presents I had coming right back up to give to someone else," the little cowboy stated sadly while rubbing his hindquarters before heading towards the shed.
"I wouldn't be sure about that, son," Monroe commented to himself before turning to his wife. "Weren't you getting ready to cut the cake when the fire distracted us?"
"I was," she answered with a sigh.
"Then don't let us stop you. I'm sorry that I have ta do it, but this is my duty to the boy, Cat. Go on with the party. When he and I are done, he can have a bit of cake if he's up to it, and then I'll put the boys to bed so we can enjoy the rest of the evening."
Reluctantly, the woman nodded while watching her baby wander off to face his doom.
Several minutes later, Monroe entered the shed to find his fair haired son weeping softly with his nose pressed firmly in the corner. A sour smell assaulted the man's senses, and told him that the boy's system had finally purged itself, so now it was just the residual guilt that needed relieving.
Taking a seat on the splitting stump, the man called Jasper out of the corner. With the youth standing before him, he quietly inquired, "How are you feeling, physically?"
"Tired."
Monroe laughed as he brushed some hair out of the boy's face.
"I reckon that anyone in your position would be."
Reaching into the small bucket that he had brought along, the usually stern man pulled out a rag and wrung it out. Wiping his child's face clean, he dipped it back in the water to rinse it, then squeezed out the excess moisture, and laid the fabric across the back of Jasper's neck.
"The coolness will help."
Jasper closed his eyes and tried to relax, but in the darkness his head spun worse. Being fully aware of what was coming knotted his stomach and chased away any comfort he might have taken from his father's kind gesture. Slowly opening his eyes, the boy found his father watching him with a peculiar expression.
"I'm sorry I caused trouble, Pa."
"I know, boy, and I would rather not be doing this right now, but it needs doin'." Cocking his head slightly, he searched the boy's eyes for something before adding, "I wish I was certain you were up for this."
Jasper's pride forced him to stand a little taller while ignoring the pain in his head and stomach.
"I'm good, Pa. I know what I done is wrong, and I be ready to take my medicine. I'll be needin' yer knife, if ya want me to cut ya a switch."
"Not this time, son. I have something else in mind."
Jasper shivered when his father's expression turned serious and his eyes hardened.
"In trying so hard to be a man, you've acted like a naughty little child, Jasper, so I've decided to treat you as such." Reaching into his back pocket, the man withdrew a small wooden item and held it out for his son's inspection.
Jasper's eyes traveled over the old maple wood paddle that bore his name and those of his siblings. It had been years since the paddle had been used, as even Nate had been deemed too old for such things. Jasper himself had probably last felt the paddle when he was four. After that, his disobedience could earn his father's rough hand to his backside, but more often he was bent over the woodpile for a switching, or a taste of the strap if his behavior had been particularly bad. The fact that his father felt the need to dig out the paddle embarrassed Jasper more than anything. If his brothers had seen their pa with that paddle in his pocket, the boy would never survive their teasing.
"Pa, I don't think..."
"Which is the problem, son. You didn't think. You acted like a toddler, and now you'll git what ya earned yerself. Drop those trousers, Jasper, and let's have ya across my knee."
The boy's cheeks flushed as red as his bottom soon would be.
"Pa, ya can use the paddle, but can't I just bend over the woodpile like usual."
"Oh, so you'll be allowing me to use the paddle?" A bushy eyebrow shot up at his child's comment, and he cocked his head to the side.
"I didn't mean it like that, Pa."
"Then how did ya mean it?"
When the boy remained quiet for several seconds, the man pushed harder. "Jasper, drop those trousers now, or I will completely treat you like a two year old, and take 'em down myself."
Jasper's suspenders fell from his shoulders in a blink, and his pants were at his ankles nearly as fast. Standing in his underwear, the youth shivered with dread and embarrassment.
His father firmly gripped his upper arm and pulled Jasper over his knee. Tears driven mostly by embarrassment flooded his eyes, while his father unbuttoned the back flap on his long johns to expose his naughty bottom to the chilly night air.
"Cold, Pa," he whined as a breeze blew through the shed to caress his skin.
"It will be plenty warm soon enough, son. I'll grant ya that."
Jasper cringed when he felt the cold hard wood tap his rear. It had been a long time, but he still knew it's touch and hated it as much now as when he was small.
"List 'em, Jasper."
Swallowing hard, he thought for a moment, but that proved to be a moment too long when the paddle crashed down in the center of his left cheek.
"Owww."
"Trying to make sure you're awake, since I'm still waitin' to begin."
"I took what wasn't mine, was drinkin' ...and smokin'." The last part was added in a barely audible whisper.
"What was that, boy?"
"And smokin', sah."
"Really, now? And just what were you smoking?"
Jasper inhaled while he prepared to speak, but a yelp rang out instead as the paddle stung his right cheek.
"A cigar. One of the ones that Mr. Casey gave ya. We figured they went with the drink, so we kinda helped ourselves to one."
"Well no wonder the two of you looked so green in the face." Monroe thought for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Two counts of stealing in one night. Boy, sitting on that hard church bench tomorrow is going to be a mighty big challenge fer ya. I would hate to be in your shoes right now."
"Yes, sah," he groaned as a tear clinging to his long lashes finally fell, while Jasper thought about how long winded the preacher could be at Christmas.
"Is that it?"
"No, sah. Because of drinkin' and smokin', I wasn't thinkin' right, and ended up catching the barn on fire which could have gotten Zach and me killed."
"And that is completely unacceptable, boy." The paddle came down hard to punctuate each word.
Jasper yelped loudly, then bit his lip to silence himself while the horrible sting quickly took hold.
"Good. Now that you know what you've done wrong, let's see if I can't convince you not to do it again. Time to get started."
With that phrase serving as his warning, the paddle began to fall rapidly on Jasper's defenseless tail, alternating sides and covering each and every inch of uncovered skin. The boy did his best to take the punishment as quietly as possible, but the searing of his flesh had muffled cries slipping out as he began to squirm in an attempt to find relief.
"Settle yerself, boy. There's no need for none of that."
"But it hurts, Pa," Jasper whimpered while kicking his feet.
"It's gonna hurt a whole lot more if ya don't quit," was his father's reply, as he smacked the paddle down on the back of his son's thighs, drawing a loud yelp with each stroke. "Want more like that?"
"Nooooo."
"Then quit yer kickin' and carryin' on."
The paddle sounded like a gun shot each time it made contact with the boy's stinging rump, but suddenly there came a different sound. A crack echoed off the walls of the shed to be followed by a string of swearing coming from Monroe Whitlock himself.
Tossing the broken paddle onto the kindling pile, the man resumed the spanking with just his work-hardened hand. From Jasper's point of view, that was no improvement.
With his father's tireless hand continuing to pepper his backside for what already felt like forever and a day, Jasper found his will to fight rapidly fading. He loathed to be viewed as a child, but when his tears splashed down on the dusty ground, that was exactly what he felt like, and a well chastised one at that. Soft sobs shook his shoulders while the boy sniffled hard in his attempts to breathe.
When his son went limp and gave up the fight against his pain, Monroe slowed his hand and lightened the stinging swats that it delivered.
"Ya gonna make me have to do this again, boy?"
Jasper shook his head and mumbled something that resembled a, "no, sah."
After a couple of sharp reminders placed where Jasper was sure to feel them when he sat down in church the next morning, the big man ended his son's punishment and let the youth cry himself out across his lap. Once Jasper's weeping was reduced to quiet sniffles, his father gently helped him to stand.
The boy hung his head in shame until a knuckle tapped beneath his jaw to make him raise it again.
"I want no repeats of tonight. You got that, boy?"
Rubbing at his swollen red eyes, and wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Jasper simply nodded.
Recovering the rag from where it had fallen to the ground, Monroe dunked it back into the bucket and swished it around before handing it to his son.
"Clean yerself up and get dressed. I'll be waiting outside so we can go back to the house together, then it's off to bed wit ya. It's been a long night, and you and your brothers need to be hittin' the hay."
"Yes, sah," came the whispered response, as the boy took the damp rag and began to wash his face clean of the signs of his disgrace.
"Pa?"
With his hand on the door, Monroe turned to glance back at his boy.
"Yeah, son?"
"Please, don't tell anyone about the paddle, or that it made me cry," Jasper pleaded.
"I don't know what yer talkin' about, Jasper. Ya took your hiding like the brave boy you have always been, but between you and me, I think you'll have a woodworking project to attend to. I seem to be in need of a replacement fer a certain item. See to that, will ya?"
"Yes, sah." The boy gave his father a slight half smile before going back to cleaning his face, missing the man grin as he departed.
"How in the world does that qualify as a merry Christmas?" Rosalie scoffed while looking at the smug expression on her southern brother's face. "You made yourself sick, nearly got yourself and your friend killed, and then got your behind handed to you by your father. Memorable, I'll give you, but happy?... Sorry, Jazz, but I don't think so."
"Well, it could have been worse." Carlisle's soft tone entered into the conversation. "Thank God someone was watching over you and you weren't harmed, with the exception of your pride. I also can only imagine the guilt that would have come should anything have happened to Zachariah."
Jasper shook his head before meeting his father's gaze.
"I wouldn't have been able to live with it. I know that. I felt some powerful guilt just from being the cause of him getting that whipping. There's no way I would have been able to handle feeling worse."
"Burning down a barn," Emmett chimed in with a large grin across his mug. "That's one that even I haven't done. Nice work, Jazzman. I'd give you a run on the smoking and drinking, but damn. What a way to liven up a party, bro."
"Well, you have blown up a greenhouse, Emmett," Esme reminded with a raised brow. "I still think you are our record holder when it comes to making mischief."
Puffing up with pride, the bruin smiled.
"Just keeping you on your toes, Momma. Don't want you and Pops to feel like you've got nothing to do around here."
"As if that would ever be the case." The matriarch snickered at her playful boy before Edward's gasp caught her attention.
All eyes turned towards the mind reader, whose shaking head was bowed as he snickered to himself. When he finally looked up, it was Jasper's eyes on which he locked.
"Really? After all of that? Your dad must have been..."
Jasper nodded as he softly drawled, "He was a good man — very loving and forgiving. He was hard when he had to be, but just like a turtle, he was still soft inside; at least when it came to his family."
"That's really amazing."
"I thought so, too."
"Care to let the rest of us in on this conversation?" Rose asked with annoyance at being left out of the loop.
"Yes, Jazzy. Finish telling your story," Alice suggested, as she burrowed back under her husband's arm.
"As my lady wishes." The Major smiled down at his personal pixie and sighed. "There really isn't all that much more to tell. Since I didn't want the whole town to know that my daddy had made me cry, I passed on the offer of Christmas cake, and Pa put me straight to bed. My brothers followed shortly after, but I was out like a light and slept hard until morning when my ma got us up for church.
Nate and Jack were naturally excited and looking to get into the presents that Santa had left, but I didn't even want to see what my sock held, since I already knew it would just be filled with switches. I was actually afraid that Santa might have put a paddle in there, which would have been much worse."
Jasper paused as he replayed the memory in his head, before continuing to share.
"Nate brought me my sock anyway, and I was shocked to find some candy, pecans, and a couple of oranges."
"No chocolate?" Emmett inquired.
"Not this year, but Jack had some that he graciously shared with me along with the rest of the family. We each even had some little toys in those socks. Jack had a rubber band gun. Nate ended up with a little wooden top that you started off with a coil of twine, and even yours truly came up with a bag of marbles.
Now the strangest thing in my sock was a couple of lumps of sugar. I thought maybe they would transform into coal or something like that. None of it made a lick of sense anyway. I knew that Santa must have made some mistake, so I wouldn't touch the candy or even the marbles apart from just to look at them. I figured that when we got back from church, all of my presents would have disappeared, since Santa would certainly realize that he left those goodies at the wrong house and take them back. After what I did, I didn't deserve a thing."
"Alright, boys. That's enough for now. Go get dressed. We have to be leaving for church," Catherine called out over the oh's and ah's coming from near the tree. "You can enjoy your goodies from Santa, and open the rest of the presents when we come back."
"Ma, do ya think I can stand in the back of the church this year?" Jasper asked as he glanced down at his little pink toes, but a hand on his shoulder caused him to look up.
"You'll sit with the rest of the family, like always, Jasper."
His shoulders fell along with his deep sigh and the boy nodded, muttering a sad, "Yes, Pa."
Giving his son's back a pat, Monroe sent Jasper on his way to get washed and dressed while he went out to harness Jake up to the wagon. The big man shook his head while wishing that their team had returned on their own, but at least he had the old mule, thanks to his son, and that sure beat walking.
As the family filed out of the house, Jasper stood next to the wagon with a grim expression on his face. There was no way that his rump was going to survive this, and he knew it. He thought about trying to plea his case, but with his father already shooting down his idea to stand for services, the boy knew that walking would be out of the question as well.
"Get on in, son. Time waits for no man."
"I know, Pa. I was jest..."
"Jest?"
"Nothing," the boy replied as he climbed up into the wagon, but just before he sat down, his younger brother stopped him with a shout from the house.
Nate was running towards the wagon with a pillow and quilt in his hands.
"Jay, Ma said I could give ya these. Figurin' it will be a kinda rough ride after last night, and all. Iffin' it's alright wit ya, Pa."
The littlest Whitlock looked up at their father with large hopeful eyes.
"Of course it's alright, but they stay back in the wagon when we go into church."
"Yes, Pa."
Nate scrambled up into the wagon and placed the quilt wrapped pillow down for Jasper to sit on. Once his brother was as comfortable as he was likely to get, the little one leaned over and whispered in Jasper's ear."Figured a body wouldn't think anything of a quilt being in the wagon on such a cold day like they might ask about a pillow."
The boy grinned at his cleverness in trying to save a bit of his brother's pride. Nate neglected to add that it was all their mother's idea, but then he would have come up with something eventually.
"Thanks for the look out, Nate. You're my sidekick for life."
When Jack climbed in and settled next to his siblings, he passed Jasper a biscuit and mug of hot tea.
"Ya didn't eat nothing. Don't do to have yer stomach growling over the sermon, so eat up."
"Wasn't feeling hungry. Still don't."
"Baby," Catherine called back to Jasper as she took her place next to her husband. "Just try a little. It will make you feel better."
With a sigh, the youngster nodded and began to pick at the biscuit as the wagon lurched forward. By the time they reached church, the biscuit and tea were gone, and Jasper had to admit that he was feeling a little more like himself, but still dreaded the idea of sitting in church.
As the Whitlock family entered the building, Jasper caught sight of Zach sitting between his parents.
"Pa, would it be alright if I check in with Zach?"
Monroe nodded as he patted his boy on the back. "Jest mind that yer back with your butt on that bench before service begins."
"I will be. Just wanna make sure he's okay, and to apologize."
The big man smiled while his boy made his way over to the Casey family.
"Mr. Casey? I'm powerfully sorry about last night's happenings, and was wondering if I could have a word with Zach?"
"That was a mighty foolish stunt, son, but I imagine that your pa set you straight."
"As an arrow. Yes, sah, that he did," Jasper answered while he glanced down at his boots in embarrassment.
Gideon gave his son the okay, and soon both boys stood in the back of the church, talking quietly.
"Zach, I'm sorry that I landed ya in trouble like that."
"Not yer fault, Jasper. I thought it was fun, until it all went down hill, of course. Tell ya sumthin' though. I ain't touchin' a drop of whiskey fer the rest of my days"
"I hear ya. Don't be lookin' ta me ta be smokin', either. There's gotta be other things adults can do for fun."
They talked for several minutes before the conversation came around to Santa.
"So," Jasper inquired in a low whisper. "Did Santa stop at yer house after what we done?"
"Yeah. I thought for sure he'd leave a strap, or something like that, fer Pa to give it to me again, but he left me a real train whistle. It's metal and all."
"Ain't it jest plum weird? I have candy and marbles, but I still expect they will be gone when I git home. I think Santa made a mistake."
"But he checks his list over and over so he don't make mistakes."
"He was already out on his run when we messed up. He probably hadn't gotten the update yet, but I bet once he got back home there was all kinds of messages waiting on him. Wouldn't surprise me none if he's on his way back now to pick everything up, and leave a hickory switch as thick as my pa's thumb in their place."
"Wouldn't that make Santa an Indian giver?"
"Nah. If we didn't deserve presents in the first place, he'd just be fixin' what went wrong. Not like he could help not knowin' that we nearly burned down the town."
"It was jest the loft, Jasper, not the whole dang town."
"Could 'ave spread and done it all in. You know, it's hard to be any worse than that."
After careful consideration Zach had to agree.
"Maybe the whoopin' I got canceled out the bad I done. Could be that way for you, too."
"I never meant for ya to git whooped, Zach. Honest," Jasper clarified again.
"I know. Jest happens sometimes. You know there are times when we git away without gittin' caught, and those other times when we do, we go days without the power to sit. It all evens out in the end."
As the preacher headed towards the front of the church, the boys said their farewells before going back to sit with their families. After what felt like hours shifting on that hard bench, Jasper was able to breathe a sigh of relief that he was finally free.
Running out with his brothers, the boy felt lighter, as if some heavy weight had simply disappeared. He reasoned that had come from finding out that Zach's father hadn't killed him after all, and that Santa still made the rounds of the Casey house. Jasper worried that he had ruined his friend's Christmas, but it was nice to know that some things apparently were Whitlock-proof.
Playfully pushing Jack down so he could climb in the wagon first, Jasper heard his father call out his name. The happiness he had just been feeling vanished like a soap bubble in a brier patch. Turning around, the boy faced his father standing several feet away.
"Let's go for a walk, son. There is something that I wanna talk ta ya about before we head home."
"I was just joshin', Pa. I didn't mean for Jack to fall. Honest."
"That's fine, Jasper, now come on. I'm not gittin' any younger waitin' on you, boy. Let's go."
The three brothers shared a round of worried looks, before the middle sibling shuffled after his father as the man headed back up the road towards town.
"Pa, I didn't mean anythin' by it. I swear."
"I believe you. I'm not lookin' to talk with ya about you pushin' Jack, or about you nodding off in the middle of the sermon."
Jasper's eyes were suddenly glued on the ground in front of his dragging feet.
"Ya saw?"
"I did, and I best not see it happen again," his father warned in a stern voice before taking a relaxed breath.
"Son, last night while you were asleep, I heard a noise in the livingroom. Wantin' a drink anyway, I went to find out who was prowlin' about, and guess who I found warming himself by the fire?"
"I don't know, sah," the boy replied as he continued to hang his head.
"None other than Santa himself."
Stopping short, Jasper's head snapped up as he stared at his father in disbelief.
"Really, Pa? You actually saw Santa?"
"I did, and he and I had a chat over warm milk and cookies. He said that one of my sons had become a very late addition to the naughty list. One guess who that was," Monroe said as he placed a hand on Jasper's back to get him moving along.
"Me," the youth answered sadly.
"Yep, but Santa didn't have all the facts. His report was cut off because of a blizzard near Greenland, so he didn't know that my boy fessed up to his wrongs. I told him about how brave that boy of mine had been, and how he even admitted to doing something wrong that I would have never found out about on my own."
Jasper sighed as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself for comfort.
"And you know what he said ta me?"
"No, sah."
"He said a boy that honest didn't deserve ta be on the naught list. Santa knows that everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Jasper. What decides on how it weighs against that list is what they do about makin' those mistakes right."
"But I didn't make it right, Pa. All I did was mess everything up and give you more work to boot."
"You'll jest have to lend a hand in the fixin'. That would be makin' it right, wouldn't it?"
"Guess so."
"I know it will, but more important than fixing up the actual damage is having enough goodness in you to admit that ya done wrong. That's what impressed ol' Santa Claus so much that he took ya off his naughty list, but he did tell me to warn you that he'll be keepin' a closer eye on you all year. You better be on your best behavior, because he's gonna be a lot harder to impress next year."
Some of the tension had drained from the boy while listening to his father as they walked along. Jasper couldn't believe that Santa decided he had been good enough to have his presents after all. Right there and then, the youth swore to himself that he would do his best to behave all year long to prove that Santa hadn't made a mistake in giving him a second chance. Jasper also swore that he would grow into an honest man, just like his father.
"I'll impress him, Pa. I'll do better than ever. I won't do a thing wrong, or cause any trouble ever again. I swear."
Monroe chuckled as he fluffed his boy's hair.
"No one is expecting miracles, son. Just try ta be mindful of what ya do, and of the consequences when ya do wrong. If ya think first and then act, you'll find yourself makin' less mistakes."
"Yes, sah!"
Jasper had been so caught up in the unexpected praise that he hadn't noticed his father stop at Mr. Perry's stock yard until an old gray mare leaned over the fence to shove her muzzle against his arm.
Rubbing the velvety nose, the boy looked around.
"What're we doing here, Pa? You are gonna be able to find the horses, aren't you?"
"Yep. I wouldn't worry about 'em. Pete and Patsy are most likely down by the creek, living the good life and enjoying their Christmas. We'll find them and the rest a bit later. Mr. Casey and Mr. Richards are gonna help me herd 'em up after lunch."
"Then why..."
"When Santa had gotten that naughty alert, he returned your gift, Jasper. After finding that you deserved it, he didn't have time to go back to pick it up. Since he was running late after our milk and cookie chat, he asked me to do him a favor, then told me where to pick up your present."
"My present?"
"Yep. He's right over there."
Jasper glanced in the direction that his father was pointing to notice Mr. Perry leading a young dark brown colt into a separate pen.
Wide eyes full of questions and excitement flicked from the horse to Monroe.
"He's mine? But, that's ... Pa?"
With a smile on his face, the man gave a little toss of his head while rubbing the back of his neck.
"Don't be asking me. Santa said that he knew you've been asking for a horse for years and had even started trying to save your pennies up for one, so it seems he felt you deserved him."
"I.. I can't... Really? He's really mine? All mine?"
"All yours, Jasper, but you've still gotta lot of work ta do with him. He's halter broke, but that's about it. He's young and green, kinda like his owner, and he'll take training up, but Mr. Perry said that he'll work with you after school to teach ya how to train him. So what 'cha say? Wanna take a closer look?"
"Do I ever!"
"Well git on over there."
The man laughed as his boy stumbled over his own feet while racing across the yard to accept his well deserved Christmas surprise.
AN: Jazzy is not quite an angel, but he's still sweet. I'm starting to really like his family. *nods* Monroe really is pretty rough around the edges, but it appears that the holidays bring out his softer side.
We'll be moving onto Eddie boy. While writing that, I found that I liked his mother. ... the people I have met along the way when writing this piece.
Thanks again to Jasper1863Hale for her support and proofing abilities. .. It is a shame that we speak a different language. ;-)
Thanks for the review, guys. They keep my world turning.