Jubilant Montana Christmas Read online

  Jubilant Montana Christmas

  Bear Grass Springs, Book Five

  Ramona Flightner

  Grizzly Damsel Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by Ramona Flightner

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Ramona Flightner and Grizzly Damsel Publishing. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Cover design by Jennifer Quinlan.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Also by Ramona Flightner

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Montana Territory, Late November 1886

  A cold wind howled outside, rattling the shutters. The frigid early winter weather gave little inducement for Leena Johansen, one of Bear Grass Springs’ bakers, to rise early from her bed. She snuggled a moment into her husband’s warmth before sighing and stretching, readying to travel into town to begin her early morning baking routine. Leena eased away the arm wrapped around her belly as she scooted to the edge of the bed. However, her husband’s hold on her tightened, and he tugged her closer to him. “Karl,” she whispered in protest.

  “Don’t go to the bakery. Stay with me.” He nuzzled forward and kissed the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of ginger and cardamom.

  She turned and held his face between her palms. “You know I have to go to the bakery. I’m already late.” She ran a hand through his thick blond hair before kissing him softly on the lips. She gasped as he rolled, pinning her beneath him.

  “Stay, Leena, my love,” he whispered in Norwegian. He deepened the kiss and threaded his fingers through her long blond hair as he held her closer.

  After a few moments she pushed at him, and he fell to his side with a loud sigh. “I don’t ask you to cease your work at the sawmill.” She paused as he gripped her hand, and she lay beside him, their gazes meeting as their breaths calmed.

  “There is little work in winter at the sawmill. I had hoped to have more time with my wife. A belated honeymoon.” His gaze became more passion filled as he stared at her in her white nightgown, askew from his recent caresses. They had married in June but had only had a few days away from his work at the sawmill and her duties at the bakery for a proper honeymoon.

  “No, Karl,” she said in a firm voice. “I love my work at the bakery. Annabelle expects me. Just like you and Karl are business partners at the sawmill, I am Annabelle’s.”

  Any passion in his gaze was replaced by disdain at the mention of Annabelle MacKinnon, the owner of Annabelle’s Sweet Shop, Bear Grass Springs’ bakery. “You’d choose to spend the day with her over your own husband?”

  “It’s my job, Karl,” she said as she moved to a small curtained-off area to wash before donning her clothes. She brushed her long blond hair and tied it back in a loose bun.

  He gave a grunt of disgust but otherwise remained quiet as he lay on the bed. When she moved from behind the curtain to the small dressing area, she frowned to see him still in bed. She shivered as he moved to help her tighten her corset over her full curves, noting his hands failed to rise to caress her shoulders or trace a pattern over her back as they usually did.

  She looked at him over her shoulder when he flopped backward onto the bed again, tugging the blankets over him. “I will hope you have a good day.”

  Her frown deepened as he stared at the ceiling and refused to look at her. She moved to the door, donned her boots, hat, jacket and scarf before firming her shoulders to emerge into the frigid late-November morning.

  She lit and hefted a lantern, then stepped outside, where she immediately shivered. A fresh blanket of snow covered the edge of the small porch, and she suspected inches of snow had fallen overnight. Trudging through the fresh snow, she gripped the rope tied between her brother, Nathanial’s, nearby home and the house she shared with Karl. A low wind howled, blowing the snow and feeling like tiny ice picks as it hit her skin. She entered her brother’s house without knocking, setting down the lantern with a clatter as her body shook.

  “Leena,” Nathanial said as he rose from the chair in front of the fireplace. “I thought Karl would see you in today.” Nathanial Ericson’s blue eyes flashed with concern as he beheld his trembling sister. He pulled her into his arms, gifting her with his body heat as she slowly warmed up. “I want you to wait here as I hitch the sleigh.”

  “Thank you, Nathanial,” she whispered. She watched as her brother strode to the door, nearly ducking under the doorway due to his height. Although Karl and Nathanial were tall and slender, Leena stood only a few inches over five feet with a plump figure. She stationed herself in front of the fire, her hands held out to warm them. After a few minutes, she turned to warm up her backside.

  When she began to feel warm again, Nathanial poked in his head. “All ready, Leena.”

  She joined him in the sleigh, bundling under the blankets. “Thank you for driving me in today, Nathanial.”

  “You know I’m up early every day.” He glanced her way, as if she would respond. “Why did Karl refuse to bring you to the bakery again?” This was the third time in a week she had had to ask her brother for help. “Is he ill?”

  “He’s upset I want to continue to work at the bakery.” She kept her gaze downcast. There was little to see as it remained pitch black.

  “Then he’s a fool, even if he is my best friend. We have little-enough work during the winter, and an income is welcome.” He waited as she remained quiet. “There are always periods of adjustment in any marriage, Leena.”

  “He won’t listen to me. He wants me home. Only at home. And he resents everything to do with the bakery.”

  Nathanial snorted. “He doesn’t resent the money you earn.” The jingle of the horse’s harness sounded in the air, and the horse snuffled, the sound echoing in the still early morning air. “I’ll speak to him, ja?”

  Leena squeezed her brother’s arm. “Thank you. Although I know that will only make him angrier.” She was silent as she thought about the recent weeks and months of her marriage with Karl. After such joy during their courtship, and a festive wedding, he had become more sullen and possessive as she continued her work at the bakery.

  She felt her brother shrug and then was spared saying anything further as they approached town. In the darkness, the shadows of buildings were visible. They passed the school and church on the right while the livery and Cailean MacKinnon’s residence were to their left. Soon they came to a halt in front of the bakery, having passed the café, mercantile, Odd Fellows Hall and one of the most popular saloons in town, the Watering Hole. The town was buttoned up, due to the early hour and the frigid temperatures.

  Nathanial set the brake and hopped out, tying the horse to a hitching post. He helped Leena down and escorted her to the back entrance where a sleigh could not maneuver.

  “Thank you,
Nathanial.” She kissed his cheek and slipped inside as he nodded and moved away to return home.

  Leena smiled an absent hello to Annabelle as she began her early morning preparations for another day of baking. She attempted to put her interaction with her husband from her mind, but their conflict intruded upon the joy she usually found as she measured and mixed her favorite baked goods.

  Annabelle MacKinnon appeared as well rested as a mother of a nine-month-old could. Her figure, slightly plumper after the birth of her daughter, Skye, was full, and she had an air of contentment about her. Her black hair was pulled back in a braid, and her light brown eyes were lit with happiness as she moved around her bakery. Although Annabelle had had a rocky start to her marriage with Cailean MacKinnon, they had since found great joy together.

  Shortly before they were to open, Fidelia Evans arrived to work. Leena listened to Annabelle tease her sister, Fidelia, and found solace in their improving relationship. Annabelle had arrived in Bear Grass Springs nearly three years ago to find that her sister, instead of on the verge of wedded bliss to Cailean MacKinnon, worked in a brothel. Rather than forsake her, Annabelle continued to try to cultivate a relationship with her. After Annabelle married Cailean MacKinnon, her new family also accepted Fidelia. When Annabelle’s brother-in-law Ewan won Fidelia in a poker match a year ago, Fidelia was finally freed of the Boudoir.

  Now Annabelle ran an expanded bakery with Leena, as her business partner and fellow baker, with the help of Fidelia, Sorcha and Leticia. Leticia Browne MacKinnon had married Alistair MacKinnon a year and a half ago, and their son, Angus, was born in August. Leticia tended to work the front of the store, selling to customers. Sorcha MacKinnon and Fidelia, besides assisting in the bakery, sold their knitted and embroidered goods to the townsfolk in a special display in the bakery.

  Sorcha relished her hours of solitude spinning her yarn and knitting alone at home, whereas Fidelia enjoyed being in the bakery. She helped out by washing dishes, or she embroidered in a corner. Recently she had joined in more conversations the women had throughout the workday in the bakery’s kitchen. However, even when Fidelia was silent, her smile or frown showed she always knew what was being discussed.

  Sorcha, the youngest MacKinnon sibling and only sister, had been absent from the bakery for nearly a month after suffering a horse-riding accident. Due to the severity of her injuries, she had to recuperate at the Mountain Bluebird Ranch—most often referred to as the MBR. The weather had turned toward winter with a sudden ferocity this year, and Sorcha’s brothers had not wanted to risk further injury to her by moving her. Their one regret, now that they knew she improved, was that they could not witness firsthand her interaction with her nemesis, Frederick Tompkins, who owned the MBR along with his brothers.

  Leena listened to the sisters’ discussion as Fidelia and Annabelle constructed scenarios for Frederick and Sorcha, each subsequent one more ludicrous than the previous. “You know her chattering would drive anyone insane,” Fidelia said with a fond smile as she thought about Sorcha. “I can only imagine what that must do to a man like Frederick.”

  “Who, according to Helen, enjoys his solitude,” Annabelle said with a chuckle, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Helen Clark had worked on the ranch when she was estranged from Warren Clark before they married. She now lived nearby and worked as the town’s midwife.

  “Sorcha will be longing for company and won’t understand how her constant ramblings will keep away any potential visitors,” Fidelia said.

  Leena felt her mood lighten at the speculation about Sorcha and Frederick, Leena’s initial sour mood now a thing of the past. “I think Mr. Tompkins has more interest in Sorcha than she would like. She’ll use her chatter as a defense.”

  Fidelia smiled. “Perhaps a ranch hand will take a shine to her. That would do Frederick good to know he has competition.”

  Annabelle giggled. “Have you seen how he’s one of the few people who can keep her quiet?”

  Fidelia nodded and set a dried bowl on the countertop for Annabelle or Leena to use again. “His comments are just as outrageous as hers, and she’s struck dumb by them.”

  “Cailean would say that’s quite a feat,” Annabelle said as her smile softened at the mention of her husband, the eldest MacKinnon. They were originally from the Isle of Skye, and he and the next-eldest brother, Alistair, were the first two siblings to immigrate to America. After finally settling in Montana, they had sent money back for Ewan and then for Sorcha to join them. Along with his brother, Alistair, and their partner, John Runs from Bears Renfrew, Cailean owned the livery in town.

  As the time neared for the bakery to open, their focus turned from Sorcha to preparing for the daily opening, and Leena tucked away her concerns about her marriage as she focused on baking.

  That afternoon Leena trudged home through snowdrifts to the sawmill. She walked in the sleigh track from earlier in the morning, but the wind had wreaked havoc on it, and it was not a clear path. Keeping her head lowered as she passed the livery, she walked as quickly as she could. When she approached the edge of town just past the school, she heard the sound of a sleigh and sighed as she had to step into knee-deep snow to allow the sleigh to pass.

  When the sleigh slowed and came to a halt, she raised her gaze to find the MacKinnons’ partner, Bears, watching her curiously.

  “I’m headed to the sawmill, if you’d like a ride,” he said in his deep voice. He was bundled under a heavy coat and hat with jet-black hair cascading down his back. His brown-black eyes were filled with concern.

  She bit her lip and then clambered toward him, tripping in her eagerness to be out of the snow.

  He leaned over, steadying her and helping her into the sleigh. He nodded to a blanket and then gave a satisfied smile when she tugged it around her. “Seems a long way to walk in such weather,” he murmured.

  “My husband forgets the time when he is busy at work,” she said.

  Bears made a discontented sound in his throat. “You should be as important as any work, missus.” He made a clicking noise and then eased the horse into a smooth trot.

  They rode a few minutes in silence before Leena whispered, “Did you really have business at the sawmill?”

  Bears gave a huff of breath that emerged as a white cloud in the cold air. “Yes.” He paused. “Although my urgency to speak with your brother increased when I saw you looking for your ride as I brought a horse in from the paddock.”

  She clenched her hands together and nodded. “I don’t want your pity.”

  He laughed. “Good, because you don’t have it. You’re a resourceful woman, and you have the friendship of many good women. You have no need of any pity.” He turned to look at her, his eyes gleaming with sincerity. “It’s your husband who merits pity.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “He married a woman he doesn’t understand and can’t control. He has the most to lose.” Bears made a soothing sound to the horse as it stumbled. He cast Leena a quick glance, but she stared at the passing scenery, lost in thought.

  The world seemed to have descended into a monochromatic reality of varying shades of white. Everything, from the ground to the tree branches, was covered in at least a thin coating of snow. Oppressive white clouds hung low in the sky, impeding any distant views of the hills or mountains. There was little hope of seeing the sun or a patch of blue sky as the day would soon turn to dusk. The horse’s chestnut coat, Leena’s blue cape, the green of the sleigh and Bears’ buckskin-colored coat broke the monotony of the overwhelming white palette.

  “Why were you working in the paddock?” she asked as the silence stretched between them. “It seems too cold for a horse, ja?”

  Bears grunted and then smiled. “Brutus needed to rid himself of some energy, or he would have busted up a stall. Ewan is tired of repairing them.”

  “Brutus?” She crinkled her nose at the name.

  “Mr. Tompkins’s horse. Harold’s,” Bears c
larified, referring to the older man who owned the Sunflower Café with his wife, Irene. They acted like an aunt and uncle to those they took under their wing, especially the MacKinnons. Their grandson, Frederick, ran the ranch where Sorcha MacKinnon was stranded. “Brutus is an ornery beast, and I doubt he’ll ever be tamed.”

  Leena shivered. “It seems no horse is ever tamed enough after what happened to Sorcha.”

  Bears grumbled his disagreement. “She rode the most docile horse I’ve ever seen. Something spooked her to throw her as she did.”

  Leena smiled. “You have trouble blaming the horse.”

  He looked at her, a smile hidden in his eyes, although he remained straight-faced. “I find that man is more often to blame.”

  Leena chuckled and rode the remainder of the journey in companionable silence.

  When Bears eased the horse and sleigh into the sawmill yard, Leena saw Karl emerge from the building and noted his thunderous glare to find her in the sleigh with Bears. She set aside the blanket, said a hasty thank-you to Bears and jumped down from the sleigh before hurrying inside the small cabin she shared with Karl. She stoked the fire in the stove and removed her sodden socks. She placed them near the stove to dry and donned two fresh pairs in an attempt to warm her feet.

  Their cabin consisted of a tiny dining room table which also functioned as a desk that sat near the front door and a window. Behind it was the kitchen with a large stove. On the other side of the doorway was the living area with two chairs, a table and lamp between them. At the rear of the cabin, a curtained-off area held their sleeping area. Their privy was behind the house.

  After brewing a pot of tea, she chopped vegetables and prepared a simple stew for dinner. While it cooked in a Dutch oven on the stovetop, she pulled out paper and pen to draft a letter to her mother. Ignoring Karl as he entered the house with a blast of freezing air, she continued to write her family in Norway.