A/N: I'm starting a new job next week, so I'm trying to wrap this story up so I won't leave it unfinished. There's still quite a ways to go, but here's another chapter!
Chapter Ten
The linens were changed, the girls' best dresses were pressed and starched, and Caroline was delighted to discover that with a bit of fussing she could fit into her own best dress for Christmas. It was mid-afternoon, and Charles had left that morning to find a turkey for tomorrow's supper while Caroline and the girls put the finishing touches on the house. Caroline took the opportunity to scrub the floor, keeping Mary and Laura busy with embroidery projects, sitting on their bed. She had a bucket of hot, soapy water and a scrub brush, and it felt good to sweat a little through hard work. In the washtub, nestled in a quilt and her yellow blanket, little Carrie slept.
Days after the baby was born, Caroline had started using her own childhood nickname to refer to her new daughter. 'Caroline' seemed too large a name for such a delicate baby, and sharing the name came with unexpected weight. Caroline felt a tie to her youngest daughter that she hadn't felt with the others until they were older, when their little personalities began emerging through first babbles and play. Perhaps it was all the worry leading up to Carrie's birth, and the transcendent relief she had felt upon hearing that first cry. Over a month, Carrie had grown, and was such an easy, content infant, that it felt like not much had changed in the home. Mary and Laura hovered around Carrie all day, wanting to play with her, or talk to her, or hold her. Caroline found herself keeping a closer eye on her older girls than the baby, for fear they'd pick her up without supervision, or play too roughly. But no such problems occurred, and their home felt harmonious and secure.
"If Pa gets a turkey, can I have the feathers to make an Indian hat?" Laura asked.
"You're not an Indian," Mary countered.
Laura raised her chin. "I'm practically one. I got a chief's necklace!"
Caroline didn't look up from her work scrubbing the floor. "I wish you wouldn't wear that dirty thing."
"It's not dirty! Pa says it's a sign of a great hunter, and that it protects him from evil spirits."
Caroline sighed, dipping the scrub brush back into the soapy water and adjusting the kerchief she wore to protect her freshly-washed hair. Outside, Jack was barking. Caroline dropped the brush in the bucket, looking quickly at Carrie. The last time Jack had barked at random there had been Indians riding their way.
"What's Jack barkin' about?" Laura wondered, and stood, jumping off the bed and onto a spot of dry floor.
"Laura-"
It was too late. She was already opening the latch and swinging the door open.
"Oh!" Laura exclaimed.
Caroline had already picked up the baby, and heard Mary scrambling off the bed to join Laura.
"Ma, come quick, it's snowing!"
Caroline exhaled in relief and turned, smiling at Mary and Laura who were twirling around outside the cabin as thick flakes of snow fell from the white sky. Since Thanksgiving there had been two snows, both light and not lasting long under the open sky and bright sun. Caroline joined them at the doorway, tucking the yellow blanket more firmly around Carrie, whose dark blue eyes were now open.
"Oh, it would be lovely to have a white Christmas," Caroline said.
"Then it would be like we were back in the Big Woods!" Mary said, giggling and trying to catch snow on her tongue.
"I'm glad Pa invited Mr. Edwards to come for Christmas," Laura said. "He will come, won't he?"
Caroline looked at the fluffy-white sky. "No doubt. I just hope we're not in for a blizzard." The idea of sharing the cabin with Mr. Edwards and his smelly shirts was not an appealing thought.
"Blizzards don't stop Santa Claus. Not even in Kansas. And a blizzard won't stop Mr. Edwards, either! Hey, it's Carrie's first Christmas!" Laura rushed back to her mother and baby sister, standing on tiptoe to touch Carrie's cheek. "Carrie, do you see the snow?"
Caroline looked down at the baby, who just blinked back up at her and started rooting at her chest. Laura sighed. "Ma, you have to feed her, she's hungry!"
Caroline chuckled, already untying her apron with a free hand. "Thank you, Laura. I know. Girls, if you want to keep playing outside you need to get your winter things on. I won't have you sick on Christmas."
She held open the door as both girls ran inside, ducking under her arm and laughing. The door shut again, Caroline lay the squirming baby on the bed and shrugged off her apron, unbuttoned her blouse and the chemise underneath, picked up Carrie again, and sat in the rocker by the fire to nurse her as Laura and Mary hurriedly dressed in their coats, scarves, and crocheted head coverings.
"Laura, button your coat."
"But Ma, we won't be outside long!"
Caroline raised her eyebrows, and Laura buttoned her coat before running back outside. Jack barked, playfully chasing the girls outside as the snow continued to fall.
The girls were asleep, tired from playing in the snow which, the last time Caroline had checked, and still coming down steadily and sticking to the ground. There must be two inches already. Caroline sat at the table plucking the feathers from the enormous turkey Charles had managed to get for them while he sat across from her with Carrie in his arms. She was awake, and looking up at him in seeming fascination while he made funny expressions and played with her hands. Caroline glanced at the mantle over the fire, where Laura and Mary had hung one stocking each. They had insisted on hanging a stocking for Carrie, and used one of Charles' socks as a substitute, as none of Carrie's stockings could fit more than one of her own small legs.
Noticing her eyes wander, Charles sighed. "Won't be much of a Christmas for the girls with their presents gone. Or for you."
Caroline's eyes softened. "Charles Ingalls, look in your arms. She's the best present I could ever have. As for the girls, we've done the best we can. I've made them each mittens, after I've finished here I'll make the cookies. Carrie will have her doll. They don't need store-bought presents to feel loved. We've done the best we can."
"Even so, won't be much," Charles said. Carrie made a contented noise and yawned, stretching her arms. "At least we know this one's happy. As long as she can be held, fussed over, and fed, she might as well be in paradise."
Caroline smiled. "Enjoy the silence while it lasts. Soon enough you'll have another little girl asking for new hair ribbons, porcelain dolls, and baubles."
He chuckled, standing and walking to the bed, where he lay Carrie down, tucking the blanket around her. "Guess I better go see to the stock, make sure they're blanketed down."
The whistle of the wind and snow sounded outside the cabin. "It's bitter out. Put on something warm," Caroline reminded him. "And Charles," she said as he shrugged into his coat. "It's Christ's birthday. Not ours."
He nodded gratefully, put on his hat, and opened the door, hurrying out. Caroline glimpsed the crystal snow against the dark sky, coming down quickly and heavily, and knew this particular snow wasn't likely to melt the next day. Taking a break from pulling feathers from the turkey, she turned and watched Carrie wiggling in her blanket.
"I know you want to roll around, but you'll just have to wait a few months," Caroline said, remembering how Carrie would flip and turn inside of her. The baby tried to turn her head toward her mother's voice but couldn't quite manage it. "Don't worry. Your Pa will be back soon."
The blizzard woke her before anything else. Caroline could still smell the sweet scent of the heart-shaped sugar cookies she'd made for the girls in the small hours of Christmas Eve when she opened her eyes the next morning. A cursory look at Carrie, nestled in her blankets and sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed, made Caroline sigh in relief. Sensing her stirring, Charles grunted and pulled her closer, a warm hand settling unconsciously on her breast. She smiled at the familiar contact and tried to fall asleep again, though she knew it wouldn't be long before the girls awoke. Outside the walls of the cabin the wind sung over the fallen snow.
It seemed like only minutes had passed before Charles kissed her shoulder. "Caroline," he whispered. "Wake up, honey, you have to feed the baby."
Caroline looked lazily over at Carrie, who still slept. "What? Charles, she's sleeping."
He chuckled, and gently squeezed the breast still cupped in his hand. Confused, Caroline touched it herself and found the fabric of her gown damp with milk. Her cheeks flushed hot in the pale light of winter dawn. Both she and Carrie had slept through what was usually the early morning feed.
"Oh!" She scooted away from him and busied herself with unbuttoning her gown and gently picking up Carrie, who woke and yawned, happy to discover a waiting meal at her lips. Caroline rubbed a hand over her face in an attempt to wipe the tiredness away.
"Ma? Is it Christmas yet?"
Caroline smiled at the sleep-coated voice. "It's very, very early, Laura. You should sleep some more if you can."
A yawn, and the little girl pulled back the covers and stepped over Jack, who dozed by her bed, tiptoed across the cool floor of the cabin, and climbed up on the bed next to Caroline. She had her doll, Charlotte, in her hand, and curled up under the covers with the doll tucked under her arm.
"I'll stay here so I can hold Carrie when you're done feeding her," she whispered importantly. Caroline pulled her nightcap down a little to keep her head warm, and stroked Laura's smooth, dark hair until her breathing became slow and steady.
By mid-afternoon there was almost a foot of snow on the ground and the girls were getting restless, all except Carrie, who slept in the washbasin like a depiction of baby Jesus in his manger. Both Laura and Mary kept looking at their stockings hung before the blazing fire, clearly containing presents, even when Caroline had them help her with preparing Christmas supper. When Charles came in from watering the horses with melted snow, he shook his head.
"There's no way Edwards is gonna make it out here in this weather," he said. "Sorry, girls."
"But he has to come! He told me he's a man of his word!"
"And he is, but you'll have to excuse the poor man for not wanting to brave a blizzard," Charles said.
"We wouldn't want him in any danger trying to come through all that snow," Caroline added, clearing the fifth place setting from the table.
Laura sighed. "I guess not." She perked up. "When can we take down our stockings, Ma?"
"After dinner," Caroline said for the third time. At the deflated expressions, she put her hands on her hips. "Half the fun of presents is looking forward to them. If you dress your dolls in their Sunday best they can come to Christmas dinner."
"Yes! Laura, help me find the hair ribbons. They can't go to supper without hair ribbons," Mary said desperately. The girls were halfway to their trunk at the end of their bed when the latch opened and the door was flung open by the wind. They all froze in place at the sight of Mr. Edwards.
He was clad in only his long underwear, which were soaked through, and snow clung to every part of him. Ice coated his hair and beard, and he held several bundles in his arms.
"Mr. Edwards!" Laura exclaimed. "You came!"
Charles hurried up from the hearth, where he'd been turning the turkey, and quickly brought Edwards inside. The man stood there, tracking snow and mud all over the freshly scrubbed hardwood floor, and shivered.
"Come on, sit by the fire where it's warm," Charles said. "Laura, get a quilt. Caroline, coffee."
The cabin bustled with activity as they tended to Mr. Edwards, putting him close to the fire and warming him up with coffee and heavy quilts. The girls tried to ask questions, but at first he was too cold to respond. After about fifteen minutes of chaos and waiting, he finally shook out his hair and said,
"Well, it's awful nice to be sitting by a warm fire."
Caroline sat in her rocker, the girls on the edge of their bed, dolls forgotten. Charles poured coffee into one of their enamel cups and handed it to Mr. Edwards.
"Here's some more hot coffee."
"Oh, thank ya, thank ya," Mr. Edwards said, still shivering slightly.
Charles talked around his pipe. "It seems like an awful lot to go through just for Christmas dinner."
The corners of Caroline's mouth quirked up in a smile.
"Well, it weren't just for dinner. Not that it won't be welcomed, ma'am," he said to Caroline. "But ye see, I had this here errand to do for Santa."
Laura sat up straighter. "Santa Claus? You know him?"
"Well, you might say I made his acquaintance comin' out of the saloon-"
Caroline cleared her throat slightly, and Mr. Edwards swallowed before continuing.
"Uh, when I was comin' out of the hotel in Independence."
"Independence?" Charles said. "You went all the way to Independence in this blizzard? You've gotta be mad!"
Mr. Edwards shrugged. "That's been said before." He turned back to the girls. "Well, anyway, there he was; there he was just standin' there with his pack mule."
"Reindeers!" Laura interjected.
"Oh, he uses a pack mule out here. It's more practical!" Edwards looked at them seriously. "Well, I recognized him right away. Recognized him by his big, white beard and his big, round belly. Although he wadn't jolly enough to be doin' any ho-ho-ho-ing."
The girls held in their giggles, and Caroline found herself smiling at the dramatic tale.
"Well, the old gent, ya see, he just brightened right up when he seen me. 'Hello, Edwards!' he says. He said, 'You remember them pair of red mittens I gave you that Christmas when you was just a sprig in Tennessee?' 'Ooh, kept me warm many winters', says I. He says, 'I hear ye're livin' down on the Verdigris river now.'" He took the last sip of coffee and handed the cup back to Charles. "I said, 'Yeah'. He said, 'You don't happen to know them Ingalls girls, do ya?'" The girls' mouths dropped open.
"And you said yes!" Laura said.
"Sure did, right away. Well, to make a long story short, you see, old Santa said he's mighty worried about bein' able to cross the creek. You know, with the weather being bad, and him not bein' so spry anymore."
Caroline exchanged a look with Charles. They had prepared a similar story for the girls to make up for the lack of store-bought gifts Charles had bought months ago.
"So he asked me to fetch the presents to ya. That there's what's in the bags," he said with a grand finish. Mary gasped.
"Can we see the presents now, Ma?"
"Please, Ma?"
Edwards glanced at Caroline, who nodded shyly, wondering what on earth he had in his bag for the girls. She looked behind her at Carrie, who still slept, unfazed by their guest.
"All right," he said. "All right now. Close up yer eyes, now. Can't have no peekin'." The girls squeezed their eyes shut. "Go on, close 'em tight. You ain't peekin', are ya? Can't stand for no peekin'."
He took two tin cups out of the flour sack, spotless and brand new. Tears pricked at Caroline's eyes.
"All right," he said. "There y'are."
The girls opened their eyes, which widened in wonder as they took their cups out of his hands.
Mr. Edwards was delighted. "Ha ha!"
"We each got our own cups now!" Laura exclaimed.
"Thank you, Mr. Edwards," Mary said.
But he wasn't finished. Taking out a rolled piece of leather, he slowly unrolled it. "Now looky here. Look at this here."
The girls looked intently at the unraveling process. He pulled out a peppermint stick and handed it to Mary.
"One for you." He took out another. "And here's one for you," he said, handing one to Laura.
"I'm gonna save mine," Mary said, looking at her candy in wonder.
"Not me!" Laura promptly bit the top off her stick.
Mr. Edwards rifled down at the bottom of the sack and brought out four large yams. "Oh, ma'am, uh, I thought you might like to have these to go with yer turkey."
"Like to?" Caroline took the yams from him like they were precious jewels. "Oh, I can't recall the last time we had such a treat! Thank you," she said, and smiled broadly when he handed her two more. Her heart felt full to bursting. After gathering herself, she tried her best to thank him the way she wanted to. "Mr. Edwards, I thank you for making this such a fine Christmas for the girls."
He smiled warmly, and in that moment Caroline didn't think she could appreciate him enough in a whole lifetime. He gasped suddenly, putting his hand back in the flour sack.
"I may be mistaken, but I could'a sworn Santa said there were three Ingalls girls livin' here now. Unless I got the wrong address on this last present." Caroline didn't remember Charles saying he'd seen Mr. Edwards since Carrie's birth, but he must have, to give him the news.
"There are! We have a baby sister now!" Laura said.
"Well, where's this little Ingalls girl? Don't see her nowhere! She must be awful good at hidin'!"
Caroline stood, put the yams carefully on the table, and reached down into the basin behind her to pick up Carrie, who stretched but didn't open her eyes.
"Ma had her at Thanksgiving, and-"
"Laura, please," Caroline whispered, as if Mr. Edwards hadn't known about her pregnancy since he'd been introduced to her. When she turned around with the baby, however, he looked appropriately surprised, like a child who believes babies are delivered by the stork.
"Well, would ya look at that. Looks like a little pea in a pod."
"Her name's Caroline, like Ma, but we call her Carrie so Pa doesn't get confused," Laura explained.
Mr. Edwards chuckled, and took Carrie's present out of the bag and handed it to Caroline once she took her seat in the rocker.
"Oh, Mr. Edwards," Caroline said under her breath. It was a small, hand-carved and sanded baby rattle, crafted ingeniously so a small hand could grasp a handle, and inside a tiny bell had been placed to sound out delicately when shaken. "This is beautiful." She shook the rattle.
Carrie stretched again, kicking at her blankets with little feet, wearing a gown made of the skirt Caroline had worn in the fire. The baby blinked her eyes open, first taking in her mother. The dark blue eyes traveled as much as they could, and her rosebud mouth moved as if she was nursing.
"I think she likes it!" Laura said.
"Can we look in our stockings, Ma?" Mary held up her cup and candy. "We already got some presents."
Caroline chuckled, covering up the beginnings of tears. "Might as well!"
The girls sprung to their feet and received help from Charles in taking down their stockings. There was excitement all around as they reached inside and started to pull out the red mittens Caroline had made. Caroline noticed Mr. Edwards looking at Carrie, an expression on his face she couldn't quite read.
"Mr. Edwards, would you hold the baby while I see to the dinner? You must be starving," Caroline said.
"Oh, I think I could do that, ma'am," he said, and took Carrie easily into his arms, letting her grip a finger with her tiny hand. This ease did not escape Caroline. He had held a baby before, and comfortably. She wiped her eyes covertly as she tended to the turkey, exchanging a tender look with Charles. Her heart had never felt so full. This Christmas was so complete she didn't want to let go of it, but bask in its warmth and peace for days to come.
The blizzard had stopped, but it was unanimously decided that Mr. Edwards would not be leaving at least until the morning. He was a perfect gentleman about the business, bunking with Charles while Caroline climbed in with the girls and the baby. They ate breakfast together, and Charles insisted on giving Edwards a ride back in the wagon. He went to hitch up the team while Laura and Mary played in the snow. Caroline insisted on packaging up leftover turkey and a hot yam for Mr. Edwards to take home, and he held Carrie while she worked.
"Well, Mrs. Ingalls, you've got yerself a right little looker here," he said, smiling down at Carrie.
Caroline chuckled. "Thank you."
"That there toy I got for little Caroline was my own daughter's," he said suddenly. Caroline stopped working for a moment, glanced in his direction and saw he was still absorbed with Carrie. "I figure there ain't much use in keepin' it around when it could be used by someone else."
"Mr. Edwards, I'm…I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"Oh, don't go feelin' sorry for me, ma'am. It's my fault my wife and daughter are gone, and I live with that every day." He looked up and watched her tie some twine around the packed turkey. "I s'pose seein' your girls grow up makes me think of my daughter, and the things I could'a done to make her life better."
"I'm sure you did all you could."
The door opened, and Laura bounded in. "Pa's ready when you are, Mr. Edwards!"
"Righty-ho!" Edwards said, standing.
"Laura, please shut the door," Caroline reminded, the cold air instantly chilling the house. Carrie was handed back to her, soft and warm, and Mr. Edwards took the turkey and yam Caroline had prepared.
"Don't forget your scarf," Laura said, grabbing the red scarf off a hook by the door and handing it to him.
"Oh, no, couldn't forget that!" he said, bundling up. "I thank you, ma'am, for such tasty meals. And wish you a Happy New Year."
Caroline dipped her head. "Happy New Year, Mr. Edwards."
Though he hadn't told her to keep it secret, Caroline didn't reveal what she now knew to her husband. Her bond with Mr. Edwards was an odd one; him staying in their barn after their scare with the Indians, putting out a fire together, and his unabashed love of her cooking. It was like having another older brother; perhaps rougher around the edges, with a penchant for chewing tobacco, and a seeming unwillingness to do his own laundry, but a dear friend nonetheless.