A Yellowstone Christmas (Yellowstone Romance Series (Christmas Novella)) Read online

  A Yellowstone Christmas

  Yellowstone Romance Series Novella

  By Peggy L Henderson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author.

  Copyright © 2012 by Peggy Henderson

  All rights reserved

  Acknowledgment

  As always, a huge thank you goes out to my critique partner, Carol Spradling. You’re the reason this series even exists.

  My husband and best friend, Richard Henderson. Your support in my writing means so much to me.

  Shirl Deems and Barbara Ouradnik, my beta readers on this novella.

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to one of the nicest people I have had the pleasure of getting to know this year, Barbara Ouradnik. Our friendship began a few months ago over endless conversations about the characters in this series, as if they were real people. Now I feel so fortunate to count you as one of the best friends a girl could ever have. Thank you for all your encouragement and being such a positive influence in my life.

  Chapter One

  “Come on, Matthew. We have to hurry.” Aimee Osborne’s hushed voice sounded urgent. She frantically waved her hands in front of her, urging her five-year-old son on. She gripped the pine branch she held in her gloved hand more firmly, using the fan-shaped needled branches like a broom in an effort to obliterate the tracks left behind in the deep snow by her snowshoes. She knew it was a futile exercise. Her pursuers had to be close. Aimee had no idea how much of a head start they had, so there was no time to adequately cover her own tracks and Matthew’s.

  “I’m trying, Mama,” the little boy said, a note of panic in his voice. He swished his own makeshift broom along the snow-covered ground, his arms moving furiously back and forth. The heavy furs he wore to keep out the winter cold hampered his efforts.

  Aimee glanced up, squinting into the bright sun. The snowy landscape reflected the rays of the sun, nearly blinding her. Her head and most of her face were covered in thick fox fur. Combined with the snowshoes she wore, the bulky buffalo robes that kept her warm made moving around in the deep snow awkward and laborious.

  She scanned as far into the distance as she could. Lodgepole pines and spruce trees in all directions were weighed down heavily with snow. It was easy for someone to hide behind the trees and not be seen. Easy for an ambush. Catching her breath, she reached for her son’s arm.

  “It’s no use, Matthew. This is only slowing us down. Let’s find a place to hide.”

  The boy stared up at her. “Papa always says it’s important to cover your tracks when you think you’re being followed.”

  “Yes, I know,” Aimee said. “But I think in this case we need to think of something else. What would your papa do?”

  Matthew’s forehead scrunched in deep concentration, then his eyes widened. “If you can’t outrun your enemy, you need the element of surprise,” he quoted his father’s words.

  Aimee smiled beneath the heavy fur that covered her face. “Let’s go hide over there.” She pointed to a stand of trees about fifty yards away. “Drag your branch behind you, and cover your tracks as best as possible. We’ll hide among those trees.” With one final glance over her shoulder to see if their pursuers were visible yet, she pushed onward, dragging her own pine branch behind her. By the time she and her son reached the stand of spruce trees, sweat ran in rivulets between her breasts and down her back. She swiped a gloved hand across her forehead while she tried to catch her breath. Her bulky hides that kept her warm in the winter chill now heated her like an oven.

  “All we can do now is wait and see,” she said in a hushed tone. Matthew continued to sweep at the snow around them in a continued effort to obliterate their tracks as best as possible.

  “We only have one weapon to use in case we’re discovered,” Aimee said softly, crouching beneath the tree. The area where they huddled under low-hanging branches was dry and covered in a thick layer of pine needles.

  Countless minutes passed. The forest remained eerily quiet, the air still and devoid of even the slightest breeze. Matthew adjusted his weight from one foot to the other, crunching pine needles beneath his feet. At least he was able to move a little in their cramped hiding spot.

  Aimee touched him lightly on the shoulder. Her little boy shot her an anxious glance, his eyes wide with nervous anticipation. Pride swelled in her heart for her son. For a five-year-old, he showed remarkable patience and self-control. Something he’d learned from his father. She pulled the fur from around her face and smiled softly. Her breath swirled in a white ghostly pattern around her face. She held a finger to her lips, silently cautioning her son for quiet.

  Leaning forward on the balls of her feet, adjusting the cumbersome snowshoes underneath her, Aimee peered between the branches of the spruce. A snowshoe hare unexpectedly darted closely in front of their hiding place. Aimee stiffened, and her heart rate increased. Something, or more likely someone, had to be near to cause the hare to spook like that. Matthew gripped her hand. He was also aware of the impending danger.

  An earsplitting shrill yell suddenly pierced the stillness of the afternoon. A shadowy movement to the right of them spurred Aimee into action.

  “Now, Matthew,” she yelled.

  With a loud war cry of his own, the boy darted from beneath the spruce, sending a shower of snow from the branches.

  Aimee followed her son from under the tree, and scooped a pile of snow in her hands, forming a tight ball. A large dark figure abruptly loomed in front of her. With a screech, she hurled her projectile at the fur-clad figure. She never got the chance to reach for more snow. A strong arm snaked around her waist, yanking her fully from her hiding spot. Matthew growled like a bear beside her and threw a snowball at her captor’s head before another figure, much smaller and closer to Matthew’s size, tackled him from the side.

  Unable to help her son, Aimee was hurled to the ground, sinking in the deep fresh powder, pinned underneath her adversary.

  “You think you can escape this easily, woman?” a deep voice drawled inches from her face, hot breath brushing against her cheek. Aimee ceased her struggles. Her body shook with laughter that she’d suppressed until now. Staring up into a pair of deep brown eyes, she pulled her hands from between herself and the man who had her pinned into the snow, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I’ve got a few more weapons in my arsenal,” she purred, breathing heavily, and pulled his head down toward her.

  “You don’t fight fair, woman,” the man growled, and covered her mouth with his own.

  “Neither do you, Daniel,” Aimee mouthed against her husband’s lips. “You knew there’d be no chance of Matthew and me ever concealing our tracks from you.”

  “Zach and Sam did all the tracking,” Daniel said, an innocent grin brightening his face. He heaved himself off the snow-covered ground, pulling Aimee with him. Both their heads turned in the direction of their three sons, who wrestled loudly in the snow several feet away. Two-year-old Samuel growled like a bear, and threw himself on top both of his brothers.

  “Maybe we should find that tree now,” Aimee suggested, nodding toward the boys. She brushed away the snow from her furs, and slipped her hands into her gloves. She bent to peel her youngest s
on away from his older brothers.

  “Come on Sam, we need to find that perfect Christmas tree,” she said when the boy kicked wildly in her arms.

  The twins Zach and Matthew scrambled up from the ground. “We want to help you chop it down, Papa,” Zach said loudly.

  “Good idea,” Daniel said, reaching for his flintlock in the snow. “I’ll just sit back and keep your mother warm while you two do the work.”

  Both Matthew and Zach rolled their eyes. “I don’t see how kissing keeps someone warm,” Matthew said.

  “Someday you’ll see,” Daniel said, patting his son on the head. He pulled Sam from Aimee’s arms and set the boy on his shoulders.

  “I think there are some nice-looking young spruce trees just a little further along the river,” Aimee said, pointing ahead. “One of them should make a nice tree for the cabin.” She adjusted the strap on one of her snowshoes that had come loose when Daniel pulled her to the ground, and headed toward the Madison River some hundred yards ahead. Snowdrifts lined the banks of the river, which was barely half as wide as it would be in summer. Ice sealed off the banks on either side.

  Zach and Matthew ran ahead as quickly as their snowshoe-clad feet would carry them, chasing a family of river otters until the animals dove into the water.

  “We want this one, Papa,” Zach said minutes later, pointing at a young spruce that stood to the side of several others. Matthew nodded in agreement.

  Aimee glanced up at her husband. Although Daniel was not an overly tall man, her petite stature made him appear larger and more imposing. “I guess we found our tree,” she said brightly.

  Daniel shook his head, and frowned. The twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. It was the same every year at this time. For the last six years, Aimee had insisted on a Christmas tree, and Daniel had put on an exaggerated show of irritation over it every time. He reached up, and pulled a squirming Sam from his shoulders. The toddler waddled off toward his brothers, babbling loudly.

  “You know that Elk Runner will try and set fire to it again this year,” Daniel said, watching his sons swipe at the snow on their chosen tree’s branches.

  “He won’t be invited to Christmas dinner if he tries,” Aimee warned. “You’d better make sure he’s clear about that, Daniel.” She shot him a stern look and nudged his arm to get his full attention. She pointed her other gloved hand at him in warning. “If he wants peach cobbler or huckleberry pie, he’d better not go near my tree. And if he tries another crazy stunt like releasing a squirrel up the trunk, I’ll ban him from our house forever.”

  Daniel chuckled. He shook his head slightly. “He thinks the cold of winter plays with your mind for wanting to bring a tree into the cabin without chopping it into firewood, and decorating it with your trinkets.”

  “I don’t tell him how to celebrate his traditions, so why should he always mock mine?” Aimee’s eyebrows shot up. “And don’t tell me he doesn’t enjoy the food, or the gifts I give him when he and his family come for Christmas dinner.”

  Daniel’s indulgent grin brightened into a wide smile that always set her heart fluttering, even after six years of marriage to him. Her husband’s hardened features softened, and his intense deep eyes warmed her like a hot mug of chocolate when he favored her with such a smile. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle as far as they would reach.

  Daniel kissed the top of her fur-covered head. “It is precisely your heated reactions that encourage his behavior,” he said softly.

  “Well, he needs to be put in his place,” Aimee grumbled, but she knew Daniel was right. If she simply ignored her brother-in-law, and didn’t react to his antics like Daniel had obviously learned to do over the years, he might stop tormenting her about her different ways.

  “Let’s chop down that tree, wife, before you change your mind, and we have to look for another one.” Daniel pulled her close for a kiss, then released her and headed toward the tree his sons danced around impatiently. He pulled a long-handled ax from under his robe, and handed it to Zach. After giving each boy a turn to swing the ax, Daniel finished chopping down the tree. He tied a rope around the end of the trunk, and they headed back the way they came, toward their cabin a few miles upstream of the river, Daniel dragging the tree behind him.

  Fifty yards from the cabin Daniel abruptly stopped. Aimee released Sam’s hand she’d been holding, and shot a questioning look at her husband. All softness left his face, and he stared with an intensity she recognized when he sensed danger. He dropped the rope, and gripped his rifle. Suddenly, a faint wail pierced the air.

  “What on earth?” Aimee said. Daniel reached for her arm, no doubt to pull her back, but she darted to the side to avoid his grip, and headed for the cabin. A small fur-covered bundle lay in the snow at the foot of the cabin door. Without a second thought, Aimee picked up the bundle, moving aside some of the fur. A newborn infant cried loudly in her arms.

  Chapter Two

  Daniel glanced over Aimee’s shoulder at the crying infant in her arms. His wife hovered over the baby like a mother grizzly. Her cherished Christmas tree was all but forgotten as she fussed over the child.

  “He can’t be more than a couple of hours old, Daniel.” Aimee darted a worried look up at him. “He’s hungry, and I have nothing to give a newborn. You have to go and find his mother, or he will die.”

  Aimee voiced what Daniel already knew. He studied the black-haired infant, and the hides and furs he was wrapped in. The workmanship of the Tukudeka clan of Shoshone was unmistakable. The deerskin hide that the baby’s body was wrapped in was soft and pliable. Daniel’s adoptive people employed laborious and time-consuming methods to tan their hides. No other tribe he knew took the time to soften their hides using two layers of animal brains, and soaking the hides in water for days. It made the material softer than the cotton shirts he bought in St. Louis.

  “Daniel?” Aimee shot him an expectant look that demanded an answer. “Where do you think this baby came from? Do you know of any Tukudeka women who were close to giving birth?”

  “This is not a Tukudeka child,” Daniel said quickly. “No Sheepeater woman would abandon her baby.” The thought disturbed him. Although he was absolutely convinced he was correct, where else but from the people who lived in this area could this child have come from?

  “There are no other tribes in the area this time of year. Who else could it be?”

  “I don’t know.” Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed. “But I will find out.” He adjusted his buffalo robe around his shoulders and met his wife’s worried stare. He offered her a tentative smile, and squeezed her arm. “I will find the mother,” he said, then turned to head out the door.

  “Are we keeping the baby?” Zach ran up to him as soon as Daniel emerged from the cabin.

  “No.” Daniel smiled at his son. “Somewhere he has a family who misses him.”

  “What about our Christmas tree?” Matthew asked, disappointment on his face.

  “The tree will have to wait. I’m counting on you two, and Sam, to help your mother while I’m gone to find this baby’s family.”

  “Yes, Papa,” both boys answered in unison. They couldn’t hide their disappointment on their young faces. It would be good for them to learn to be patient.

  Daniel knelt to eye level with his sons and waited until he had their full attention.

  “Your mother always says this time of year is one of giving. It is important to remember that sometimes we must do things to help others, even if we may not want to do them because it takes us away from the things we wish for.”

  The twins nodded in silence. Daniel patted them both on the head. He stood to his feet. “Take Sam inside and offer your mother any assistance she might need.”

  After the boys disappeared into the house, Daniel scanned the area around his cabin. Faint footprints in the snow led from the old cabin nestled against a stand of pine trees some fifty yards away. Daniel didn’t expect to find the woman who had birthed the c
hild in the old cabin, but he headed for it anyway. Slowly, he opened the creaking door, and peered into the darkness. For years, this cabin had been used as a storage area for his traps, furs and supplies. His eyes fell on his old bunk against the left wall. Blood covered the cotton blanket on the cot. No doubt this was where the woman had given birth to her child.

  Who was she, and why would she abandon her baby? A Tukudeka woman would have been in the village’s birthing hut preparing for her child’s arrival for several days already. He convinced himself again that this was not a Tukudeka child.

  Daniel hurried from the cabin. Part of him was relieved that this mysterious woman had found a safe place to deliver her baby. The thought that she might have brought danger to his family entered his mind. She had to have been laboring long before arriving at the cabin. He and Aimee and the boys hadn’t been gone for more than two hours. That she was running from something, or more likely someone, was obvious. The question of whom she ran from remained to be answered.

  Daniel easily picked up her deep tracks that led away from the main cabin. They led westward into the hills and out of the valley. Her lead could at most be two hours, but probably less. She wasn’t wearing snowshoes, and she had just given birth. Her footprints created deep imprints in the soft fresh powder that had fallen the night before. Every now and then, specks of blood streaked the white snow.

  Daniel scanned his surroundings. He saw no other tracks that might indicate that she had met up with anyone. Determined to find this woman quickly, he increased his pace through the deep snow. If she was on the run from someone, her tracks would lead her pursuers to his cabin. He didn’t like the idea of Aimee and the children alone with the possibility of danger close by.