It was Christmas Eve and Adam sat in the nearly dark room with the only light coming from the glow of the fireplace. To his right sat a pile of clothes almost as high as a Ponderosa pine that needed mending. He pulled the sewing string taught forming a knot and then placed the finished shirt to the side.
His mind drifted as he glanced over to the tree standing in the corner and the garland draped across the mantle. It had only been a little over six months since he lost his wife Cecily and he didn't feel much like celebrating this year. All he honestly wanted to do was pass this season quickly and move on to springtime activities. Ben on the other hand had other plans.
Ben had insisted that for his children's sake that they keep as many of their traditions alive as possible. Adam may have wanted to wallow in his grief, but according to his father, it wasn't fair to deny the children this magical and festive season just because Adam didn't want to celebrate this year.
In the end, he went along with his father's plans, not because he had a change of heart, but because he really had no fight left in him. He had learned a long time ago that when Ben made a decision, there was no changing his mind, so why waste what little energy he had on a futile effort.
He glared at the offending decorations as he reached over to grab one of his socks out of the pile. It had a giant hole in the sole evidence of hard work over the years. He set to darning it trying to patch it up for a few more months or, if he was lucky, maybe a year's worth of value. This used to be Cecily's job, but like so many other things, this now fell on his shoulders.
As the light slowly faded from the fireplace, Adam put the darning aside for the night. It was way past when he tucked his children into bed and Ben and his brother's had turned in. Shifting his gaze to the big grandfather clock by the front door, he noted it was nearly Midnight anyway. He stood and stretched before heading towards the fireplace.
He banked it for the night and stepping back a few feet took one last look in the shadowy room at the stockings that were hung over the fireplace. Nine of them in total. One for each of his four children, Ben, Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing, and himself. Adam had insisted that his father didn't need to hang one for him this year, but as hard as he pushed not to hang one, Ben pushed just as hard in the opposite direction.
Adam could almost hear his voice still ringing in his ears. "What will your children think when they see a stocking for everyone except their Pa?"
It was one of those many times Adam resigned to his own father's idea whether he liked it or not. He let out one last sigh before turning to solemnly head up the stairs to his own bed for the night.
Adam awoke the next day to the sound of his excited children downstairs. He knew they would be well cared for so he took his time getting ready before he joined them all in the great room.
He had made it to the first landing on the staircase when Clara's voice pushed through his gloomy mood.
"Papa! Thanks so much for hanging Mama's stocking next to ours. She's in our heart so it's like she is here with us and she needs a stocking just like us."
He paused and looked over to the mantle. He could have sworn he counted last night and there were only nine stockings there. He counted again. Ten. He glanced over to meet Ben's face. If he had anything to do with it, his face certainly didn't show it.
Upon reaching the main floor, he slowly made his way over to where the silky stocking hung. He gently reached up to feel it, making certain it was real and not just an illusion.
From behind him, he heard Nathan and his other daughter Helen ask if they could see what was in their stockings. Adam could only nod in approval as he stood mesmerized by his wife's stocking he hadn't seen in over six months.
He was startled out of his thoughts as he felt Ben's hand wrap around his shoulders. "Looks like there's something in Cecily's stocking as well. Why don't you see what it is?"
Adam gave his father kudos for trying to play along and act as innocent as possible about this whole thing. If his father could play his part, Adam could play his part just as well. He gave a short nod before removing the stocking from the hook and returning to his chair.
Once he was settled, he reached into the stocking. Stuffed way at the bottom was a small box. Holding it in his hand, he looked once more up to Ben to see if his face offered any clues, but he was met with nothing but eagerness for him to open it up.
As he removed the lid, he was met with a gorgeous pearl necklace. Tears began to cling to his eyes. This wasn't just any string of pearls though. He had bought this gift nearly nine months ago, right before Cecily passed. He had planned to give it to her as a Christmas present this year, but that plan was quickly derailed. After her funeral, he moved the necklace to his locked box where he kept all his valuables and mementos. Only he had the key and Ben had no idea about the gift in the first place so it couldn't have been him that put it in the stocking.
It might have been the tears blurring his vision, but out of the corner of his eye, he was positive he saw a single white dove pass by the window behind his father's desk. It was then that he knew that Cecily was indeed there with them in spirit this Christmas.
A smile graced Adam's face as he closed the box in a considerably cheerier mood. He still had a long journey of healing and learning to cope without his wife, but now was a time for celebrating and to him that's all that mattered today.
As to who or what put up his late wife's stocking and placed that gift inside, that's up for debate. However, Adam had no doubt it was Cecily's angel letting him know it's all right to be happy today and that all will be well in the end.