Chapter 7 – The Angel

Like I said before, Christmas was rapidly approaching, and I needed it to be special. After all, it was our first Christmas together as husband and wife. I knew exactly what I wanted to get Doralice, and the only place I had any hope of finding it was the store in Claytonville where we'd bought our wedding rings. Then there was the problem of how to get to Claytonville without taking Doralice with me or having to lie about why I was going.

Bless Maude, she came to the rescue. There was a new liquor salesman in Claytonville who was anxious to expand into Little Bend, and he'd made a proposal to Maude that could save her considerable money. It was as good an excuse as any, so one mornin' when my woman was tied up with Pauly and the house, I took off for Claytonville.

Fred Sanders, the liquor man, was offering a good deal if Maude would give him a try, and we worked out a ninety-day contract to see how it went. Soon as we were finished, I scurried over to the 'jewelry' store and began my search. Much to my surprise, they had exactly what I was lookin' for.

It was a beautiful gold chain for her neck, sturdy but as delicate as she was, with a solid gold heart on the end of it. It matched her wedding ring almost exactly, and I was lucky to find it. And I didn't quibble over the price; I just wanted to give her something half as beautiful as she was.

Maude was impressed with the new contract but more impressed with the necklace. "It's stunning, Bart, and I'm sure she'll love it. Has she started decorating yet?"

"Decorating? More than just a Christmas tree?" I must have sounded surprised, but I hadn't been around much at Christmas in Little Bend since we were kids and I had no conception of what Maude meant.

"That must mean no. You're in for quite a surprise, my friend. Prepare yourself for a Christmas explosion."

"Are we gonna have enough room for Bret and Ginny?" Ginny had come through town about a month ago, and my brother had apparently made amends, because they'd left Little Bend for parts unknown. Together. I'd just gotten a telegram from Bret asking if he and Ginny could spend Christmas with us, and if the answer was yes, they'd be home no later than December twenty-third. Of course the answer was yes, and I'd wired back immediately, to Brownsville, Texas.

"Is Pauly gonna be done with the addition by that time?" Maude asked.

We'd just had a discussion about that very thing yesterday, and I was told it would be completed within the week. "Yes, according to Pauly. Then we gotta get beds and furniture in there. It'll be close, but your daughter's determined they'll be able to stay in one of the new rooms."

"To answer your original question, then . . . as long as the rooms are finished, you'll have a place for your brother and Ginny."

I had visions of . . . I don't know what I had visions of for the house. But I was suddenly filled with the dread that Christmas was gonna move in and I was gonna hafta move out. I must have sighed, because Maude reached across her desk and patted my hand. "It's not that bad, Bart. Actually it's kinda nice. There's garlands and candles and pretty Christmas linens . . . you'll get used to it."

When Doralice got to the saloon that evening, I asked her about Christmas. More specifically, decorating the house for Christmas. She gave me kind of an odd look before she gave me her answer. "You've been talkin' to Maude, haven't you? She thinks I decorate to excess, so I'm sure that's what she told you. I bet Beauregard never did any decorating at all, did he? Did you even have a tree?"

"Sure, we had a tree. Except the year Momma died. But that was about all. Didn't see any need for much else."

We were in my office, and quicker than you could say 'Bart Maverick' my arms were full of beautiful, blue-eyed blonde. "Just think, we can snuggle by the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate and looking at the decorations. Then we could . . . " Doralice kept talking, but all I could think of was making love to my wife in front of a roaring fire. That was her point, of course, and I no longer cared where or how or how much she spread Christmas. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?" she finished, and I nodded. It was all I was capable of.

XXXXXXXX

Pauly stuck to the schedule and the addition of the two rooms was completed the following week. The builder and my wife had been workin' on furniture for the bedrooms and got everything moved in three days after completion. Now we had a place for my brother and his beauty, and we even had rooms for Pappy, Ben, and Lily Mae to stay over.

Doralice was off one afternoon, and when I came home the next morning I wasn't sure I was in the right house. We were still without a tree, but everything else sparkled and shined and reminded me it was Christmas time. I'd wondered if I would be overwhelmed with her love of the holiday, but I have to admit it was actually . . . nice. Comfortable. And it made me remember that I wasn't alone anymore.

Maude did something unusual – she closed the saloon on December twenty-third, and it stayed that way until the day after Christmas. It was the first year there was more than just her and Doralice, and she wanted time to spend with family. So when Bret and Ginny arrived on the afternoon stage, we were there to meet them.

I don't know exactly what Bret had said or done to return to Ginny's good graces, but they were back to being a happy pair, obviously in love. A little shocked to see the two of us in the middle of the day.

"What'd you do, quit work?" Bret asked as we gathered their baggage.

"Didn't have to," Doralice answered. "Maude did the unthinkable. She closed the saloon. Said Benny could have all the business."

"Good for her. So everybody can be together on Christmas," Ginny observed.

"Exactly. And we're almost ready for it. Except . . . " Doralice began.

"You and me have to go find a tree," I finished for her, directing my remark right at my brother.

"Of course we do. What about Pappy and Ben and Lily Mae? Are they comin' to town?" Bret asked.

"Yep. That's one of the reasons we wanted the house finished. There's enough room for them to stay with us, and the whole family can be together Christmas day."

"And Maude and Cristian, of course," my wife added.

"Well, certainly. They're family," Bret needlessly reminded us. "When are we gonna go get that tree?"

"Soon as we get you settled at the house."

That didn't take long. Impressed by both the new rooms and the Christmas explosion, Ginny was particularly delighted by Lucy and her brood of baby chicks. "That cat needs a friend," she declared, and I had the feeling we were in for an addition to the family.

I loaded my brother in the buggy and we went hunting for an appropriate tree, down by the river, of course. Seems like that's where we'd gotten all our Christmas trees, including the one Bret found the year after we lost Momma. Most of our conversation surrounded him and Ginny, and the state of their relationship. "Glad you two got everything worked out. You manage to explain the marriage remarks?"

"Just told her I was stupid."

That caused me to chuckle. "Didn't she already know that?"

"I'm sure she did. I tried to explain myself – don't know how good a job I did. But she said she understood what I meant."

"Just be glad the woman loves you."

"I am, Bart, I am."

We found the perfect tree and were in the process of chopping it down when the subject of my wife's Christmas preoccupation came up. "Maude warned me . . . sort of. And I was real worried at first. But it's kinda nice when you get over the shock."

"Ginny liked it. Pappy'll probably die laughin'."

I shook my head. I didn't believe that for one minute. "No, he won't. He thinks everything she does is wonderful. There's only one thing that could make him happier."

Bret grinned. "A baby Maverick. When's that gonna happen, little brother?"

"When it happens." Bret wasn't the first one to bring it up, but it was the first time the question had bothered me. I loved kids, and the thought of having one or more with Doralice was something that we both wanted . . . but it would happen when it happened, and not before.

We didn't talk much for a while. Bret had hit a sore spot for some reason, and he knew it. We were almost home before I brought up the subject of that tree we snuck out and chopped down.

"Remember how we decorated it?"

Bret nodded. "With Momma's ornaments. And our deck of cards."

"And I was too afraid to go into Pappy's room to get the ornaments."

"You were only six," Bret reminded me.

"I wonder whatever happened to the angel that Momma and Pappy made for the top of the tree?"

Bret sighed. "Probably got lost somewhere over the years."

I pulled the buggy up in front of the house so that we could unload the tree. "I sure hope not."

Momma's angel was forgotten until later that night when the four of us had eaten dinner and were about to decorate the tree. Doralice had all sorts of ornaments, some of them quite intricate looking, and we drank coffee and ate apple pie while we turned the little Virginia Pine into something quite elegant. We laughed and reminisced, and when we were almost finished Doralice produced a deck of cards with yarn threaded through them, and we had an excellent garland.

"Beauregard told me the story of the Christmas tree decorated with your mother's ornaments and your cards," my wife of not quite six months explained.

"There's only one thing missin'," I started, but there was a twinkle in Doralice's eyes that I just happened to catch. She hastily left the room and went into our bedroom, and emerged a few moments later with something in her hands. Something neither of the Maverick boys expected to see again . . . Momma's angel.

"Where . . . "

"How . . . "

"From your pappy," she explained. "He's had her all these years, and he wanted to make sure we had her for our first married Christmas. Especially since everyone would be here."

I took the ornament gently from my wife's hands, and together Bret and me mounted her on the tree top. Doralice was right. Now everyone would be here for Christmas.