Christmas in Stillwater
A/N: After months away from writing, this is my contribution to the 2021-22 Winter/Holiday writing challenge, using the prompt that a minor character reappears. As you will see, I've stretched that definition a bit, drawing on one of my favorite Bones stories "Castor and Pollux" by Penandra which posits that Jackson Gibbs and Hank Booth, Sr. are brothers. Her story explains how the two men, long estranged after their father's tragic death, reconciled through the efforts of their sons, Gibbs and Booth.
Having driven north on I-81 and west on I-80 since early morning, Booth turned the SUV north again as he exited the highway onto Pennsylvania Route 487, and shook his head at the meandering path the family was taking. The area's geography of rolling hills west and east of Stillwater had apparently discouraged the platting of a straight road, very different from the web-like network of highways around Washington D.C.
His cousin had invited the Booth-Brennan family to spend Christmas with him. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not given to touchy-feely conversations, so Booth was intrigued when Gibbs' phone number appeared on his phone. Gibbs had suggested that they come Christmas afternoon to avoid the hassle of transporting all the gifts a family of their size would entail. He told Booth he had some surprises in mind for the family once they arrived in Stillwater.
Parker and Meredith were coming down from New York where the two of them were working, but weren't able to get away by Christmas Eve, so Gibbs' plan worked out well. Christine had completed her internship with the Bureau of Narcotics a week earlier and arrived home from Chicago well in time for the drive north. She regaled her family with incidents she'd observed in the Narc squad room, declaring that people in Illinois were even weirder than those around the nation's capital. Her dad's old partner Mickey Donahue had been delighted to hear that Booth's and Brennan's daughter was chosen for the prestigious training session, and had insisted the young woman stay with him and his wife Jeanne during her assignment, since all their own young adult children lived elsewhere and they were "just rattling around" in the five-bedroom house in La Grange.
It was an easy commute on the Metra, and this excellent train system enabled Christine to get around without relying on her hosts. The Donahues gave her the freedom to join their activities if she wished, or spend her limited free time pursuing her own interests. But Christine was so focused on gaining the most knowledge and experience her six-month tenure would allow, that she rarely indulged in leisure at all. The supervisory Chicago agent knew a few Narcotics officials and privately kept Booth abreast of how impressed they were with Christine's work ethic and motivation.
Hank was the least enthusiastic of their children about this trip, since his basketball team was preparing for a state championship, but Brennan had convinced their son that a few days away from his buddies was a worthwhile experience on many levels. She assured him the opportunity to observe and explore a small town environment so different from D.C. would be interesting and beneficial. The young man planned to follow his mom into anthropology and highly respected her opinions. Booth was just happy to have all his children together for his favorite holiday season. The older they got, the harder that was to accomplish.
Relying on the SUV's sturdy suspension, he had shaved 45 minutes off the normally three and a half hour drive, and Christine's steady flow of exuberant stories made the time speed by as well. She had filled her parents and brother in on the narcotics investigations she'd been assigned to, omitting confidential information of course. This last internship was an excellent capstone to her ATF training. Booth smiled to himself in pride and satisfaction at their daughter's achievements, noting the same gleam in Bones' eyes as they listened.
Turning on to Main Street, he saw that little had changed since his last visit here to attend Jackson Gibbs' funeral a decade earlier. Gibbs had sold the hardware store to Jim Foster, the stalwart employee who quietly kept it running as Jackson aged and slowed down. But the NCIS senior agent had kept his boyhood home, paying long-time neighbors to see to its upkeep during his absence.
Twelve years later, Gibbs' abrupt resignation after investigating Sonova Copper in Naktok Bay, Alaska with McGee had caused consternation and confusion at the agency's headquarters but personal clarity for him. He spent the following four months in Alaska, fishing its pristine waters and reveling in tranquility he hadn't experienced since losing Shannon and Kelly. Then quietly returning to Stillwater, Gibbs put his boat-building skills to a different use and updated the house in which he'd grown up. He'd considered returning to D.C., but needing some space and time, he had the basement wall repaired and rented his two-story house through a realtor Marcie Warren recommended.
This year, Gibbs decided, he'd invite what family he knew of to spend Christmas with him in Stillwater. A phone call to Booth and Brennan surprised them, but knowing how seasonally picturesque rural Pennsylvania could be during the winter, the couple readily agreed to head north to spend a few days with Booth's cousin. The invitation was further extended to Parker and his wife, bringing the total family headcount to seven and Marcie joined them as well.
On their holiday trip north, Christine was delighted to use her new birthday iPhone camera capturing the snow-covered Stillwater Covered Bridge Number 134, constructed in 1849 using Burr arch trusses with a galvanized steel roof. Its combination of multiple kingpost trusses with arches made it unusually strong. Theodore Burr, a cousin of the third U.S. Vice President, invented and patented its design in 1807. Knowing that her mother had donated a bridge in Tucker County, West Virginia after a case there made this national historic landmark even more intriguing to Christine. The beneficiary of that expert criminal investigation, a now mature Andrew Taylor, was soon to become her husband.
Once they arrived, Booth in particular was eager to see the renovations Gibbs had chosen for his boyhood house. He had recommended Wendell Bray who now worked as a Pennsylvania Medical Examiner in its capital Harrisburg, an hour away, to help with the remodeling on weekend, and Brennan's former intern had been happy to oblige. Working with his hands was a good release from his stressful job. He and Gibbs, both quiet men, struck up an immediate friendship while hammering and sawing.
By Christmas evening, the Stillwater house was noisy with decorating, baking, and merriment. Andrew, Marcie and Wendell were due to join the family for Christmas dinner, so Ann Gibbs' newly updated kitchen was filled with delicious smells from cooks mixing, chopping, and stirring away. Discovering a new concrete basketball court outside, Hank was much happier than he'd expected to be and even volunteered to set the spacious table his great uncle Jackson had built. An assortment of oak, pine, maple, and upholstered chairs were drawn up to its sides to seat all the happy relatives and friends.
A 'teenaged' Norway Spruce cut from a nearby tree farm graced the front room of Gibbs' home, laden with heirloom ornaments and strings of tiny LED lights. These contradictory trappings twinkled and sparkled amid its dark green branches, as impressively decorative as the 2020 Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree, a taller fuller more mature Norway Spruce. Hank, the youngest Booth but a surprisingly sentimental fellow, listened aptly to his father's description of the various antique and vintage ornaments scattered through the tree. The robust great-grandmother Booth and Gibbs shared had distributed these most durable of her holiday decorations among younger family members before her death at 96.
For the benefit of her children, Brennan observed aloud what hardy stock they came from. Except for Booth's grandmother's untimely demise from cancer and the toll alcoholism took on Edwin, nearly all of his ancestors lived well into their late 80's and early 90's. Despite his slightly gruff exterior, Jackson Gibbs was as sentimental as young Hank. The man had an enviable collection of his own mother's well-worn cookbooks and recipe cards. Ann had been a skilled baker and cook but Jackson had been shifting for himself in the kitchen for quite a few years and saw no reason to consult Google for an ingredient list or baking directions he already knew nearly by heart. Gibbs had retained this venerable culinary library and could whip up delectable brownies and casseroles as skillfully as he had seared steaks in his D.C. fireplace.
Once dinner was done, the boisterous group grabbed seats or a place on the floor in front of a roaring fire which enhanced the scent of evergreen and apple pie. Gibbs retrieved a stack of colorful boxes and parcels from the front hall closet and passed them out among his guests. Hank received a handsome Benchmade knife and Booth unwrapped a Muddy 3-in-1 Handwarmer set that provides 24 hours of heat, a flashlight, and mobile phone charger.
"What a great choice for chilly stake-outs or camping!" he exclaimed.
Brennan was delighted to find a Streamlight rechargeable headlamp in her gift to illuminate bone or crime scene examinations. Gibbs chose Outdoor Research Warrant Gloves for Parker and Christine since both could use these in their work when outdoor exposure came into play. Meredith loved the Black Stewart tartan plaid of her LL Bean Irish lambswool scarf and nestled her cheek against it with a grateful smile.
After a brief silent conversation with his Bones, Booth disappeared up the stairs for a moment and returned with a long rectangular box which he handed to Gibbs.
"You didn't think we'd come empty-handed, did you?" he said, smiling at his cousin.
Gibbs tore into the skeleton Christmas paper to find a Stihl Pro Universal Forestry ax and grinned at his guests.
"This ax was well-reviewed as quite precise, due to its curved handle and long blade. They designed it with a steel sleeve below the head, supposedly to stop it breaking in case of an overstrike." Brennan informed him.
"You couldn't have chosen better," Gibbs replied. "In addition to the excellent chain saws that started their success, Stihl makes some exceptional and durable hand tools. One ax out there in Dad's tool shed is 50 years old and it still sharpens up perfectly. The curve of this handle makes it easy to guide. Thank you so much!"
By this time it was 11:30 pm. Gibbs rose to his feet, turned to his guests and said, "You guys better get some shut-eye so we can explore caves tomorrow. G'nite." And with that, he headed up the stairs.
"Caves?" Hank and Christine asked almost simultaneously.
"I guess we'll have to wait 'til morning to see what Gibbs has up his sleeve," their father replied.
The family dispersed among the remaining bedrooms, pull-out sofa, and cots Gibbs had pointed out earlier in the day. Within 45 minutes, the house was quiet except for a few snores and snuffles.
bbbbbbbbbbbbbb
Booth awoke to the aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen below, and wasted no time in joining his cousin downstairs.
"So what's with the caves and your mysterious remarks?"
Gibbs smiled. "In 1873 some caverns were cut into the bluff near Main Street. Its relatively soft sandstone made this a fairly easy job. They blasted in some places, but mostly used pick-axes to create a cave where a natural spring burbled up. They need a cool place for brewing beer and laid out the cavern for that purpose. A guy named Ambrose Heliger developed the brewhouse and cave, and proceeded to brew Cavecold Beer. He got the idea from his uncle Martin Wolf who had done something similar in Stillwater, Minnesota. Same soft sandstone, same cool temperature. Perfect for beermaking."
" Pretty successful, especially before Prohibition, but local rumors persist that bootlegging went on in there for years. I thought your kids and you would enjoy a tour. It doesn't matter if the weather is blazing hot or freezing cold, the caves are 52 degrees year round. The German immigrants got their ideas from Swiss beer traditions, since caves were a perfect cool storage location."
"The caves were Stillwater's first tourist draw and the tour guides even let you do some fishing if you want."
"Sounds like a fun way to spend the day out of the wind and cold," Booth said. "Bones will no doubt give us a lecture on ancient cave burials due to their perfect conditions for preserving bodies."
Gibbs laughed. "That lady of yours is something else. Smart, decisive, and resourceful."
"Not to mention beautiful," Booth agreed affectionately.
Gibbs sighed. "I wish Shannon had lived to meet her….and so much more."
"Yeah, I know and I'm so sorry. Pops and Grams were devastated when they heard that terrible news. Even moreso than when Frannie died from cancer. She'd had a pretty full life, but Shannon was so young. And your Kelly barely even got started living," he trailed off.
Gibbs drew a deep breath and turned back to the stove where he expertly flipped several pancakes, added them to a plate with two over-easy eggs and three bacon slices from a plate full of crispy goodness and handed it to Booth.
"Sounds like your family's awake up there. You wanna brew another pot of coffee, while I start another dozen eggs? Do they like scrambled or fried?"
"Scrambled will do just fine," Booth said. "On a morning like this, my crew isn't picky. Just be sure you cook Bones' eggs away from any bacon grease."
Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
Once everyone was dressed in durable jeans, warm sweaters, coats and gloves, Gibbs started his truck, backed out of the gravel driveway and Booth followed in his SUV. Parker and Meredith rode with Gibbs, since their chances for conversation were limited and they had to return to New York the following day. Their host related some of the area's history, and Meredith told him about the City of Caves in Nottingham, England where her great-grandparents lived and her family still held land.
"Carved out of sandstone, much like your Wolf caves here," she said. "Used as a pub cellar, air raid shelter, and tannery through the years. They were dug starting around 1270 and inhabited from 1600-1745 when renting caves to poor people was outlawed. My granda taught me an 1870 anonymous saying that
"If a man is poor he had only to go to Nottingham with a mattock, a shovel, a crow, an iron, a chisel or a mallet, and with such instruments he may play mole and work himself a hole or burrow for his family." " she chuckled. "None of them are naturally occurring; all manmade."
The family piled out and headed for the ticket booth bearing a sign "Heliger Brewery Cave Tours" where Booth bought passes for all of them. A tour was starting and they followed a tall sandy-haired college student whose nametag read "Ryan P."
The tour was a half-hour in length, and fairly straightforward, as their guide related more details of the history Gibbs had briefly described. The cave's smooth floor sloped gently downward toward a natural spring which meandered on through the rocks as a narrow clear creek of water so clear every stony detail and tiny fish were easily visible. Ryan explained that water testing had shown the creek to be free of impurities. It widened into an equally crystalline pond and Hank asked about fishing there.
"Yes, it's allowed. Let me get you a rod," Ryan replied. The rest of the family decided to explore a bit further while Hank tried his hand at casting.
Brennan was wearing her new headlamp, and the others had small flashlights with which to examine the rocky outcroppings and pickaxe marks along the cold sandstone walls. Parker wandered further back where a sort of hallway had been carved with wooden shelving along each side. The lumber was in surprisingly good condition for its age, and some brown and amber jugs still stood along the very top shelf, dusty but intact reminders of the past.
"There's a bathroom back there, if any of you need the facilities," Ryan told them.
"Thank goodness!" Christine exclaimed. "I drank too much of Gibbs' good coffee."
She disappeared down a stone corridor into the chilly but clean restroom. After finishing, she wandered a bit further along the increasingly dim hallway and noticed a reddish area on the walls. Walking over to examine it, Christine stumbled over something and looked down.
A heavily-scuffed man's workboot with worn, cracking soles. She leaned down for a closer look as the leather was unusually stained.
The problem was…
It was attached to a foot.
"Mom! Come here! Quick!"