Jubilant Montana Christmas Read online

  He rumbled around the kitchen, poured himself a cup of tea and then stood over her until she sighed and looked up at him. “Ignoring me never works, Leena,” he said in a dark tone.

  “But it works fine for you to forget me at the bakery today?”

  “It is inconvenient to interrupt my work every day to chase after you.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Chasing after me?” She took a deep breath. “I work in town. The winter arrived early this year, and it is very cold. I thought my husband would show me the courtesy and respect of coming to drive me home. Especially because you couldn’t drive me in this morning.”

  “This is why you should be home. There would be no inconvenience for anyone.”

  “For you!” She glared at him. “Why can’t you see that working is important to me?”

  “And why can’t you see that I’m tired of being the laughingstock of this town, ja?” His blue eyes flashed with anger. “The man who can’t even make enough money to keep his wife.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “That isn’t how it is, Karl.” She reached to stroke his hand and forearm, but he jerked away from her. Her eyes flashed with hurt at his rejection of her consoling touch. “Why do you care what others think? The MacKinnon men are not laughing at you.”

  “They are not men to be emulated! They don’t know how to control their women. Look what happened to that sister, running wild because she couldn’t control her emotions.” He leaned forward. “I will not allow the same to happen to you, Leena. You have until Christmas, and then you are never to work there again.”

  Her eyes rounded and filled with tears. “No, Karl. We discussed my partnership with Annabelle. You can’t mean this now.”

  “Ja,” he said with a satisfied nod of his head, as though he had just discovered the perfect solution to their problem. “You have a few more weeks to play with your bakery friends. Then you will be home, where you should always have been.”

  Leena shook her head. “Why can’t you see I can do both? I can work there and care for you too.”

  “My decision is final. I am your husband.” He gave her a severe stare, and she broke eye contact, looking down at her unfinished letter. He moved away to the small living area to read a book.

  She sniffled and fought tears as she wrote her mother.

  A week later in early December, the scent of cardamom, cinnamon and almond vied for supremacy in the bakery as both Leena and Annabelle baked their special treats. Leena mixed ingredients together in a bowl and watched as Fidelia moved to the front of the expanded display space.

  Over the summer, Annabelle had taken on the lease of the empty business beside her bakery, doubling her storefront. With two bakers, Annabelle had thought it made sense to have the space for her and Leena’s baked goods as well as to show off Fidelia’s needlework and Sorcha’s homespun yarns.

  “It’s wonderful to see her charming the locals in an entirely different way,” Annabelle murmured as she watched her sister interact with the townsfolk lined up to purchase their baked goods. Leticia was at home with a colicky Angus. Annabelle shrugged a shoulder in an attempt to free her cheek of flour, smiling when she failed, and focused on her friend Leena. “She’s come so far, so fast.”

  Leena nodded absently as she mixed the ingredients to the point of making her shoulder burn from the rapid movement. She tried to focus on her friend and colleague Fidelia Evans, who had been free of her old life as a prostitute at the Boudoir for over a year and free of laudanum for almost as long.

  “What’s the matter, Leena?” Annabelle whispered. “I’ve known for some time that something isn’t right.”

  Leena sniffled and then dropped the wooden spoon into the ceramic bowl with a loud clatter. “I … If I’m to have a harmonious marriage, I am to leave the bakery by Christmas.”

  “What?” Her friend sputtered and stared as her mouth opened and closed in surprise. “That’s … that’s preposterous. That’s only three weeks from now! We all spoke with Karl about your partnership …”

  “Karl is displeased with the amount of time I spend here and has informed me that he expects me at home to perform my wifely duties.”

  Annabelle blushed and shook her head. “Don’t say that too loudly outside the bakery kitchen, Leena. It means other things to most people in town.” She raised an eyebrow and fought a giggle as her friend’s eyes widened, and then Leena flushed beet red with understanding.

  Leena was from Norway, and, although she spoke English well, she sometimes misspoke in ways that had them pealing with laughter. Not today, however.

  “What do you want to do, Leena?”

  Leena shook her head. “As a child, I always thought that I needed to be a good wife first. That anything else was secondary. At least that’s what my father taught me.” She bowed her head in a guilty manner. When Annabelle remained silent and refrained from any censorious comment, Leena whispered, “But, as I grew older, I changed.”

  “What would your mother say?”

  “I don’t know. She was a good wife and mother, ja? But she was defiant in her own way.” Leena rubbed at her eyebrow. “Taking in washing, working for a wealthy family when we needed money. My father was always persuaded to her way of thinking.”

  Annabelle sighed and pulled out stools, urging Leena to sit down. “I think you should follow your mother’s example. Although that may be hard to do with only three weeks before Karl’s ultimatum. However, you need to focus on who you are and what you want. Not on what anyone else thinks you should do and be, Leena.”

  “I have been married less than six months, and I fear it was the greatest mistake of my life.” Her eyes rounded, and she slapped a hand over her mouth as though to trap the words that had already escaped.

  “Oh, no,” Annabelle whispered. “I had no idea. I thought … I thought you wanted to marry him.”

  “Nathanial needs him as a business partner. What better way to ensure he remains here than to marry me?” She shrugged. “It is a common practice, ja?”

  “I thought you cared for him,” Annabelle murmured. She gripped her friend’s hand as Leena’s eyes filled.

  “I did. I do.” She took a deep breath. “We’ve known each other since I was a girl, learning to cook and bake from my mother.” She swiped at her cheek. “I never thought he would want to marry me.”

  “Why not?” Annabelle asked with a frown. “You’re smart, kind and beautiful. You can cook far better than most. What more could he want?”

  Leena shrugged. “He never showed much attention to me until we were here. And then I was excited he was interested in me. I never thought about why he changed. Why he noticed me.” She swiped at her nose with a handkerchief. “I know I’m chubby, short and plain. No man’s ideal.”

  “Hogwash,” Annabelle said with a growl, reminiscent of the disgusted noises her husband, Cailean, often made, and shared a worried glance with her sister who stood in the doorway. “Do you love him, Leena?”

  Leena shook her head as though that were not important. “It’s better to be practical than emotional.”

  Annabelle bit her lip and spoke to her sister. “Did you suspect anything?”

  Fidelia nodded. “Yes. I was trained to force a smile and to fabricate joy. I know what it looks like.” She stared at Leena. “Are you well?”

  Leena frowned at Fidelia’s question and then jolted. “Of course. He’s not mean. Not like that.”

  Annabelle sighed, rubbing at her forehead and smearing it with more flour. “But he wants you to give up something you love simply because he resents the time you spend here.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Leena to respond. When her friend gave a small jerk of her head in agreement, Annabelle shook her head. “What do you want, Leena?” she asked again.

  Leena sat on the stool with her shoulders stooped and any of her usual vivaciousness missing. “I want to be brave, like you two. And Sorcha. And Leticia.” Her gaze moved between the sisters, including them both in her commen
t. “I don’t know how.”

  Annabelle was silent a long moment before she spoke. “I won’t tell you what to do, Leena. Only you can determine what it is you must do. What I would say is that the patterns established early in a marriage become harder and harder to change as time goes on.”

  “What does your brother say?” Fidelia asked as she moved to the sink to wash a few dishes during the lull between customers.

  “Why should he know anything?” Leena shrugged. “As far as I know, he suspects nothing.”

  “Your brother is a good man.” Annabelle sat staring into space. “He would not like knowing you are unhappy.”

  Leena emitted a small sound of frustration. “I have no right to be unhappy.”

  Fidelia wiped her hands on a towel and stood in the midmorning ray of sunshine, warming herself as though a cat while she studied Leena, a woman she considered friend. “Don’t you? Why should men have the majority stake in determining our happiness and how we achieve it?”

  “I have nowhere to go,” Leena whispered.

  Annabelle’s smile bloomed, and she wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I knew there would come a time when someone would need a refuge. Why do you think I was adamant on having the small back room made larger so that there was a sitting room and a sleeping area?”

  “Karl would never forgive you.” Yet Leena’s eyes shone with hope as she stared at Annabelle.

  “You know I don’t care. You are my friend, not Karl.” Annabelle bit her lip. “I fear I’m constantly courting this town’s displeasure, and allowing you to remain here will anger many who believe a woman should always remain at her husband’s side.”

  Fidelia’s eyes gleamed with humor. “But then you’ve never courted their favor.”

  Annabelle smiled. “No, I haven’t.” She gave Leena a gentle squeeze. “Think about it. You don’t have to do anything now.”

  Leena nodded and returned her focus to the forgotten bowl in front of her, allowing the sisters’ conversation to roll over her as she considered her possibilities.

  Chapter 2

  Karl sat in their home at the table near the door, waiting for Leena to arrive. He fidgeted in an attempt to find a comfortable position on the too-small chairs. A tall man at over six feet, his large frame caused him to be uncomfortable in most chairs. When the door creaked open, he met his wife’s surprised glance with a glower. “Why should you be surprised to see me?”

  She set down a small basket from the bakery on the floor for a moment and took off her cape, hat and scarf to hang on a peg by the door. She picked up the basket once more as she moved to the kitchen, where she extracted a loaf of bread and a packet of ginger cookies, and then held her hand over the warm stove, shivering as heat penetrated her cold fingers.

  “Answer me, Leena,” he said in a low voice.

  “Since you didn’t pick me up again, I thought you’d still be at the sawmill,” she murmured.

  “Is it because you wish to avoid me?” He rose and caged her in the area by the sink.

  She flushed and bowed her head. “I don’t desire to argue with you again. I had a long and busy day at the bakery,” she whispered.

  “Ja, and that is why I wish you to cease working there. I want you home.” He frowned as she continued to look at her feet. “Leena? I thought we had agreed to this once we were married.”

  She shook her head. “You agreed.” She took a deep breath and met his confused gaze with a mutinous one. “I never did.”

  His brows furrowed, and then his jaw clamped with anger. “You tricked me into allowing you to work in the bakery,” he growled.

  “No, I was never dishonest.” She pushed at his arms, forcing him back a step and preventing him from hovering over her. “Stop hemming me in.” She met his incredulous stare and raised her chin, instinctively mimicking Sorcha. “We agreed I could work in the bakery to ensure there was enough money to help with winter bills when work was slow in the sawmill.”

  He flushed red. “That was last year, Leena. Before we married. You are my wife now. I want you home.”

  She shivered but then shook her head. “No. I want to continue to work at the bakery. I enjoy my work.”

  “What will happen when a spebarn comes?” He flushed, as he rarely slipped into Norwegian, and it was a sign of his agitation.

  “There is no baby yet, Karl,” she said as she blushed. “And Annabelle has made a room at the bakery to be a nursery. I believe I could continue to work and to care for our baby.”

  “That damn Annabelle woman,” he rasped. “She is a meddler and fills your head with ideas.” His eyes narrowed as she blushed a brighter red.

  “Don’t forbid me from working there, Karl,” she pleaded. “I want to introduce the townsfolk to our Christmas food.”

  “Why should they want to eat pepperkake or julekake? Why should you care to bake for them?” He shook his head in confusion as he stared at his recalcitrant wife.

  She frowned as she met his incredulous, mocking gaze as she thought about selling Norwegian-style gingerbread or the Norwegian Christmas cake to the townsfolk of Bear Grass Springs. “Why can’t you understand that I want more from life than washing your clothes, darning your socks and preparing your meals? I enjoy being business partners with Annabelle and working in the bakery. I like my friends!”

  “You like them more than me?” he rasped, his jaw ticking with anger. “Have I ever treated you poorly?” He waited until she shook her head. “Have I ever raised my hand to you?” Another headshake. “Do you wish you’d married another?” He waited a bit longer until she gave a faint shake of her head.

  He swore and spun away, pacing the short distance to the small sitting area and stood with his back to her. “I don’t know what you want from me, Leena.” Before she could speak, he turned to face her with an expression of barely controlled rage. “Tomorrow is your last day at the bakery. I am your husband, and that is final. Your loyalty is with me. Not to those women.”

  “But you said I had until Christmas,” she whispered.

  “No, tomorrow is your last day. I realize I have been too lenient. Your place is at home.” He marched to the door, yanked on his hat and coat, and stormed out the cabin, leaving her alone for an evening for the first time since they had wed.

  Leena crossed the distance from her cabin to her brother’s house, one hand on the rope to steady herself and to ensure she did not lose her way in the darkness. She poked her head into her brother’s home, into what had been her home for a year before she had married Karl. She looked around, remembering the joy and pride she felt as Nathanial had first showed her this finished home. He wanted a well-built residence near the sawmill to show the residents of Bear Grass Springs the importance of purchasing wood from his business. She shivered as she recalled the months they had spent in a temporary sod home when they had initially arrived in Montana from Norway—the constant battle with dirt and dust, and the unremitting fear that the roof would cave in.

  Now she moved to the fireplace and stoked the embers. She added kindling and waited a few minutes before tossing large pieces of wood onto the fire. Soon the wood crackled, and the room filled with warmth. She sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace, her gaze distant as she considered her argument with Karl.

  “Leena,” Nathanial said, his expression remorseful as she started at his voice. “Are you all right? Why are you here and not at home with Karl?”

  “I’m fine. I wanted to see how you are.”

  He frowned. “The same as I was when I drove you to the bakery this morning, ja?” He sat in the other chair and contemplated the fire for a few moments. “Why aren’t you home with Karl?”

  “We fought, and he left.” She met her brother’s incredulous stare that Karl had left on such a wintry night.

  “What is the matter between you and Karl?”

  She gripped her hands together and continued to stare at the fire. “He wants me to give up my wor
k. Before we married, he agreed with my partnership with Annabelle. Then last week he told me that I had until after Christmas. Tonight he said that tomorrow was to be my last day.”

  Nathanial swore in Norwegian. “That’s ludicrous.”

  “Perhaps.” She took a deep breath. “Will you still call me sister if I’m defiant?” She raised angry blue eyes to meet his. “If I bring shame on the family?”

  He gripped her hand. “You could never bring shame on the family. And, if he is forcing you to take such drastic measures to end your business partnership at the bakery, then I will only ever blame him.”

  Leena nodded and squeezed his hand.

  Nathanial’s voice emerged soft and hesitant. “There are things about Karl’s past that you don’t understand.” He met her confused gaze. “Things you don’t know.”

  Her expression turned mournful. “I should, as his wife.” She cleared her throat. “It merely proves my point that he married me for convenience. For his partnership with you.”

  Her brother’s grip on her hand tightened, preventing her from rising and returning to her empty home. “No, Leena, that’s not true.” Nathanial paused and looked away but continued to hold her hand. “But only Karl can explain, ja? It’s his story to tell.”

  She raised her free hand and rubbed at the few tears that fell. “It seems I’m not worthy enough for that consideration.”

  Her brother’s harsh words stilled her erratic movements. “Fear can silence a man and make him act like a fool. When the time comes, be kind. Be patient.” He released her hand and watched her rise. After a sigh, he rose to match her actions to don winter weather gear to escort her to her cabin. “I refuse to have you lost in this weather.”

  She nodded her thanks, and they slipped outside for the short journey to the cabin she would share with her husband for at least one more night.