Regina Scott - His Frontier Christmas Family

As Mica gazed up at him, the preacher reared back his head, neck stretching, as if distancing himself from the smiling baby in his arms.

“She won’t bite,” Callie told him.

“Yet,” Frisco predicted.

The preacher’s usually charming smile was strained. “It’s been a long time since I held a baby. I was the youngest in my family, and I moved away when my brothers’ oldest children were about this age.”

So that was the problem. Callie patted his arm and offered him a smile. “You’ll do fine. Just hang on to her until I climb up and stow the rifle, then hand her to me.”

That went smoothly enough, until Levi climbed up onto the bench, reins in one fist. His trousers brushed hers as he settled on the narrow seat, and his sleeve rubbed along her arm as he shook the reins and called to the horses. The wagon turned with the team, bringing her and Levi shoulder to shoulder. Each touch sent a tremor through her.

No, no, no. She’d spent the last five years avoiding such contact with men. She’d all but decided she would never marry. She certainly didn’t want to get all fluttery over a minister of all people, someone who would only judge her and find her wanting. And how did she know he wouldn’t go tearing off to the gold fields one day like every other man she’d ever known? She’d had quite enough of that for one lifetime.

Not even Levi Wallin’s charming smile could convince her otherwise.

* * *

What was wrong with him? Every flick of the reins, every bump of the wagon made him more aware of Callie Murphy sitting beside him. He’d thought his change of heart and his religious studies had helped him become a new man. But had he just traded gold fever for petticoat fever?

He remembered what it had been like when Asa Mercer had brought women from the East Coast to the lonely bachelors in Seattle. His brothers Drew, Simon and James owed their wives to Mercer’s efforts. Even now, seven years later, men still far outnumbered the women in Seattle. That was one of the reasons his sister Beth had written for a mail-order bride for their brother John.

But Levi had no intention of taking a bride. Not for a long while, if ever. His time on the gold fields had shown him the kind of man he was deep down. No wife deserved a husband like that. He had started to rebuild his life, but he had a long way to go.

His brothers didn’t understand. They had all been so pleased, and not a little surprised, to find that their little brother had become a minister. They remembered the scrapes he’d gotten into as a youth—stealing Ma’s blackberry pie off the window ledge where it had been set to cool and claiming a bear had lumbered by. Trying to show his oldest brother Drew he was strong enough to master an ax and bringing down a tree so close to the house it shaved off a corner of the back porch. Attempting to prove himself a man by gambling himself into a debt so deep his entire family had had to chip in to raise him out of it.

The last thoughtless act still made him shudder. He’d worked on Drew’s logging crew for months to pay everyone back. And then he and Scout had heard about the gold strike in the British Territories and run off to make their fortunes.

“You’ll see,” Levi had promised his friend. “We’ll come home rich. They’ll have to respect us.”

Respect had seemed all important then. He was the youngest of his family, Scout the only son of a father who couldn’t have cared less. They had wanted something to call their own, a way to make people look at them with pride. Filling their pockets with gold had sounded easy.

Their adventures had not only failed to find them gold but lost Levi his respect for himself. And no one except Scout, Thaddeus and God knew how far Levi had fallen. It would be a long time before he felt himself worthy of respect again.

The best he could do now was help the Murphy family. He glanced at Callie sitting beside him. She wore a slouch hat that hid her hair and shadowed her face as she gazed down at the baby in her arms. The movement of the wagon must have lulled little Mica to sleep, for thick black lashes swept across her pearly cheeks.

He couldn’t forget the feel of the child in his arms—so tiny, so fragile. Her big blue eyes had gazed at him so trustingly. She was too young to know the things he’d seen, the things he’d done.

Thank You, Lord, for this opportunity to make amends and help a friend.

Peace brushed him like the wings of a dove, reminding him of why he had started down this path. God had never abandoned him, no matter how far Levi had run. He’d been waiting with open arms for Levi to come home. It was a blessing to return the favor with the Murphys.

“How far do we got to go?” one of her brothers asked behind him. The belligerent tone likely belonged to Frisco.

“Will it take much longer?” Sutter whined.

Levi smiled. He’d been the same way once, eager for things to start now. “Have you ridden to Seattle before?”

“’Course we have,” Frisco said, tone now aggrieved.

“Well, it’s that much again to Wallin Landing,” Levi told him.

He glanced back in time to see Frisco slide deeper into the pile of quilts. “That could be hours.”

“Days,” Sutter moaned.

“Maybe we could stop in Seattle,” Callie suggested. “Stretch our legs.”

“Get a sarsaparilla,” Levi offered.

Sutter perked up. Frisco pushed himself closer to the bench. “You got money, preacher?”

Callie scowled at her brother. “I got money, the last of what Adam sent us a few months ago. There’s no call to bother the preacher.”

“It’s no problem,” Levi assured her. “I said I’d provide for you all.”

Frisco leaned up between them, arms braced on the back of the bench. “That’s real nice of you, preacher. And maybe we could get something to eat at one of them fancy hotels.”

“San Francisco Murphy,” Callie said, her voice a low rumble, like a thunderstorm heading their way.

Her brother’s eyes widened, and he ducked back into the wagon bed. “It was just an idea. A fellow can’t live on pumpkin and pinecones.”

“I never fed you pinecones,” Callie complained. “But maybe I should.” She shot Levi a glance. Behind that stern look, he thought he saw a twinkle in her blue-gray eyes. “You got pinecones up your way, preacher?”

“Plenty of them,” Levi assured her. “My brother chops down a lot of trees. I’m sure he could find a few cones, maybe some sawdust.”

“There you go,” Callie said, facing front. “Everything a growing boy needs.”

“You’re no fun,” Frisco grumbled.

“I’d eat pinecones,” Sutter told him. “If I had to.”

“Would not!”

“Would, too!”

Before Levi could move, the two were rolling around in the bed of the wagon, pushing and pummeling each other. With a jolt, he realized their movements were shoving the packs toward the rear of the open wagon.

Callie must have seen the problem as well. “That’s enough!” she cried. “You’ll cost us our things.”

Neither brother paid her the least heed. Face turning red, she reached back a hand, but, holding the baby, she couldn’t seem to catch hold of either boy.

“Hang on,” Levi told her.

She cast him a glance, then resolutely grabbed the side of the bench.

Levi slapped down on the reins, and the horses lunged forward. The movement sent both boys flying into the quilts. Levi reined in, allowing the horses to draw the wagon to the side of the road and stop. Then he turned and gazed down at two scowling faces. Somehow, he thought he’d looked at Drew with just that amount of defiance when his older brother had taken over leadership of the family after Pa had died.

“You wanted to get to Seattle as fast as possible,” he reminded them. “Every time you act up, I’m stopping this wagon. I’ve slept out under the stars before, in colder weather than this. If you want to take a week to go five miles, I’m your man.”