The visit to Peter's grave felt like a ghostly interlude in the midst of Ruby's busy days, the memory already faint as she continued on with the week's chores of baking and scrubbing and sewing. Still, she was grateful to Archibald for encouraging her to do it, and for taking her to the site. It was painful, as she imagined it would be, but after the initial blow, the squeezing in her chest, she found a soothing balm in the midst of the ache. There was a release in telling Peter about the last couple of months in this new frontier. However silly, she felt a sense of relief to tell him—to say the words aloud—that he was going to have a son, as if he could hear her from wherever he was. Maybe it was a foolish notion, a childish superstition, but she held on tightly to the comfort that somehow, he knew.
The memory grew vivid before her as she sat beside Archibald once more, nestled in between him and August as they rode to the Nolans' for Thanksgiving dinner. Archibald's steady presence beside her was warm, and she could imagine his arm around her as it had been when he'd driven her home from the grave—an intimacy that unnerved her in its appeal. The wind whipped around them, and Ruby held August close as if to shield him from the November chill and the snow that swirled around, having been dragged up from the landscape. The line of the horizon was blurry and gray, and Ruby was glad when they soon rolled up to the Nolans' cozy cabin to escape both the winter weather and her proximity to her own husband.
The scene inside was warm and inviting, and Ruby beamed as Mary Margaret gushed over her growing belly—and admired the red coat that Ruby shrugged off, her raised eyebrows causing Ruby to whisper, "I'll tell you later," as they embraced as way of an explanation soon to come.
An opportunity for the women to have some time alone came quickly, with David helping Archie to unhitch Cleo from the wagon and to get the old mare settled in the barn. Mary Margaret instructed August and Emma to set the table, leaving Ruby and herself to the last minute preparations in the kitchen, with baby Leo fixed in his chair at the table and babbling away in the midst of the bustle.
"You wouldn't believe everything that Archibald brought home from town a couple of weeks ago," Ruby exclaimed as she stood over the pot of potatoes, mashing them thoroughly. "You'd think he was preparing for a whole twelve months of winter!"
Mary Margaret grinned as she pulled the roast goose out from the oven, and Ruby's eyes grew wide. "Well, his family has doubled in size," she teased. More seriously, she added, "He finally has someone to take care of. I mean, a woman. I don't think he'd admit it, but he's been looking forward to having this for a really long time."
Ruby tried to hide her frown as something stirred in her. It was touching, and she appreciated his generosity, but Mary Margaret spoke like they were a permanent family rather than temporary companions.
"I know it's not the same thing," Mary Margaret added with a glance to Ruby before she returned her attention to the goose. "I just think he's trying to make the most of it, is all. And I'm certainly grateful to have another woman around."
Ruby nodded and smiled, her own gratitude washing over her as Mary Margaret gave her arm a squeeze. Then, the men burst in through the door, quickly shutting it to the wind that tried to encroach on the happy room. The children rushed to their fathers, barely letting them get their coats hung up, and David hurried over to Leo and swung him up into his arms.
"Everyone needs to wash up first!" Mary Margaret instructed, her voice clear and firm as it rose above the flurry of activity.
Somehow, they managed to get everything on the table and everyone seated around it. The delicious aromas made Ruby's mouth water, and a lump rose in her throat as everyone held hands and David prayed for the blessing of the meal, giving thanks for the Lord's provisions for another year. "Amen," Ruby murmured with everyone else, truly grateful for the abundance of food in front of her when her months of travelling in a covered wagon with nothing to eat but cornmeal gruel and pancakes were still a vivid memory.
She noticed Archibald's eyes light up as he passed around the dishes of cranberry sauce and gravy and laughed at something David had said. Emma and August gobbled up their dinners, though they tried to get away with avoiding their Brussels sprouts. Once they had dutifully eaten everything, they enjoyed their three grains of parched corn that sat beside their plates.
"It's to remember the generosity of the Indians when the first pilgrims had nothing, and they shared their food with them," August explained after Archibald's coaxing, earning him applause from the adults, though much to Ruby's amusement, the children seemed to care about the sweet treat more than the significance behind it.
The delicious meal of goose and potatoes and roast vegetables soon gave way to pumpkin pie and oat cakes, with coffee for the adults. Before she knew it, Ruby was so full she was sure she'd doubled in size, though she insisted she could help Mary Margaret clean up.
As she helped with the washing and drying, Ruby noticed David and Archibald sitting by the fire. Somehow, Archibald had ended up with baby Leo in his arms, rocking the infant to sleep on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her heart warmed at the image, as if it was proof—if she needed any—that she had been most fortunate in finding herself aligned with such a man for the winter. Her hand rested on her belly, and with a start she realized that the men sat in the same place where Archibald and Ruby had stood only two months ago when they were joined as husband and wife.
"How quickly time passes," Ruby heard a distant voice say, and she turned around to focus on Mary Margaret.
"He's getting so big," Ruby said with a smile to hide the subject of her thoughts.
"And your own little one will be here before you know it," Mary Margaret added, and Ruby stroked her belly in agreement.
Still, how far away March felt.
It didn't take much to convince Archie to pull out his fiddle, and Ruby laughed to see August and Emma dancing, swinging around with their arms hooked together, trying not to trip over their feet. Ruby was amazed at the lightness of the notes that Archibald could string together, the fluid motion of his bow over the strings in an expert dance. The cheer in the room was so palpable, and Ruby wondered if they'd be lucky enough to hear such music over the coming months. It transported her, and it would be a shame to keep such beauty that could chase away the gloom of winter hidden in a drawer.
Ruby's heart sank when it was finally time to leave their friends, though the whistle of the wind outside made her eager to return to their own fire. The promises to get together soon felt hollow with the threat of winter upon them, but Ruby prayed that they would be together before too long—an idea already forming in her head before they had even passed through the doorway. Ruby was highly aware of Archibald's hand resting on her back for a moment before he helped her with her coat. He quickly turned his attention to August, bundling the boy up as Ruby said her goodbyes to Mary Margaret and David and thanked them for their hospitality.
Once they were back home, August was quickly sent to bed with little protest. The howling outside made Ruby shiver, and Archie asked if she was warm enough as he immediately placed another log on the fire.
"I'm fine," she assured him with a smile, hugging her shawl close. "I was just thinking…"
Between the chill in the air when she'd collected his clothes earlier that week, and the biting wind outside now, Ruby hated the idea of Archibald sleeping in the lean-to, which offered such little protection from the cold. She could still picture his bare chest when she surprised him one morning, their breaths lingering in the air, and felt the slightest heat creep into her cheeks.
"I mean, it's getting so cold outside, and that shack is not fit to be a bedroom." She glanced down as he took a step towards her. "You shouldn't have to sleep out in this cold just because I'm here. We can set up your bed in the far corner, and I can hang a sheet across to give you some privacy."
She looked up when he didn't say anything, and she thought she saw a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips.
"I'd like that," he finally said. "But you're sure that's alright?"
Ruby chuckled softly. "It's going to be a long winter if we're not comfortable with each other, Archie. I'm just sorry there's nothing ready for you tonight."
"I-I'll be fine," he stuttered.
Ruby nodded and opened her mouth before closing it. There was more she wanted to ask him, but she knew that if she began to voice her idea that she wouldn't be able to stop, and it was far too late to get into anything more now.
"I'll let you get to bed, then," she said. "Good night."
She quickly turned away, barely giving him a chance to murmur, "good night" in return as his heart hammered in his chest.
She'd called him "Archie". Not "Archibald"—which felt so stiff and formal—and not "Mr. Hopper"—which felt like he was some long-lost relative to which she was forced to be polite.
Archie.
His heart also soared at her inviting him inside, but he fought to keep hope from bubbling up before it could no longer answer to reason. Besides, she was just being kind, with her warm smile that she also flashed at Mary Margaret and David.
As he settled into his cot for the night, the wind howled outside the thin walls of the lean-to. Archie fought off the image of her softly alit by the glow of the fire, her gaze lowered as she took a step back, as if offering him the room. He drifted off to sleep, her invitation fresh in his mind.
When Archie swung open the door to the house the next morning, Ruby was already hanging up a makeshift curtain. "Good morning," she greeted cheerfully over her shoulder, perched on a chair with a hammer in her hand and a nail in her mouth, reaching as far as she could, just beyond the window.
He kicked the door shut behind him before he rushed to her side. "I can do that," he offered, a little frantic to see her to safety.
"I thought you could move your bed in today," she explained after she took the nail out from between her lips. She looked around for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to hold the hammer, the nail, and the corner of the sheet all at once, before meeting Archie's gaze and taking his hand.
His heart calmed in his chest when her foot met the ground, and he took the tools from her, placing them on the table as she smoothed her skirts over her growing belly.
"I won't be needing my bed until after breakfast at least," he said with a chuckle to hide his overreaction.
As the three of them started their breakfast of bacon and biscuits, Archie thought that Ruby looked like she had something to ask. He remembered her hesitancy the night before—as if she'd stopped herself from voicing what she'd been mulling over—and he bit his lip to keep from prodding.
August was quieter than usual, and Archie suspected that their evening out was to blame for his son's subdued composure. "I—I hope you enjoyed yourself last night," Archie said into the quiet that had fallen over them. "I hope it wasn't too much for you."
Ruby shook her head. "No, not at all," she said quickly, and her eagerness lifted Archie's heart. "In fact, it got me thinking…"
Archie swallowed his sip of coffee and raised his brows. "Hmm?"
She shifted in her seat and glanced down at her plate before looking up again, and Archie held his breath. "I mean, I was just wondering—what do you usually do for Christmas?"
Archie smiled and his shoulders relaxed. "Oh, we have a nice little celebration," he told her. "Probably nothing as fancy as what you do in Boston, but we have our traditions."
August piped up. "Pa gets a turkey from Mr. Brown's farm, or he shoots a wild one if we're snowed in. And we go out and get a big tree and put it up with decorations. And there's presents and Pa brings out his fiddle and we usually see the Nolans, and—"
"Hey, now, August," Archie interrupted, glancing at Ruby to see that she wasn't overwhelmed. "There's no need to be telling her all at once"—he said to his son—"and there's no need to do much this year"—he directed towards Ruby. "I realize it must be a difficult reminder of what you've lost, so we can keep things simple."
"No, no." Ruby smiled and leaned over the table, her hands pressed together. "I mean, I think now, more than ever, is the time to celebrate all we have to be grateful for. And, well, I was thinking—if it is okay with you two—if we could invite the Nolans here for Christmas?"
Her eyes were bright and wide, her expression frozen in anticipation of his answer. Archie couldn't deny her eagerness warmed him through, and he was thrilled to see her desire to plan for something—and a little in awe of her determination to approach the holidays with such cheer. And yet, he couldn't ignore the doubts that chewed at him.
"Are you sure you'd be up to it?" he asked, and he saw her features fall. "No, no, I don't mean it's not a good idea," he added quickly. "I just don't want you to take on too much, what with this being your first Christmas here, and in your condition…" He trailed off when he realized his poor choice of words.
And yet, her features brightened the more he continued. "Oh, I'll be fine," she assured him with a wave of her hand, as if to brush aside any measly concerns. "I always helped Granny back home, and I'd love to make our own special Christmas this year. And I would so like to repay the Nolans back for their kindness—if it's okay with you and August, of course."
Her green eyes pleaded with his, so wide and hopeful, and he knew he couldn't deny her what she asked. "I think that would be a wonderful idea," he heard himself say, and his heart caught in his throat at the brilliant smile she flashed him.
It might have been the first time he'd seen her smile without a hint of sadness, and he was glad that he was sitting down, the way it made his knees weak and his insides melt like wax as if he were a schoolboy.
He wasn't sure who was more excited about Christmas preparations—his son or Ruby—as they exchanged ideas over their breakfasts quickly growing cold. It didn't take long for Archie to suspect that, even with Christmas being four weeks away, they might not have enough time to do everything on their rapidly growing list. Still, their enthusiasm was infectious, and Archie was thrilled to see Ruby truly excited about something, his dread over how the upcoming holiday would affect her proving unfounded.