His Frontier Christmas Family. Regina Scott

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said otherwise.

      Cuddling Mica, she glanced around the room for the first time. This was the cabin Adam should have built. The log walls were planed to fit tightly together; the chinking, where it was needed, was firm and clean. She couldn’t feel any breeze coming through the plank floor, couldn’t see an ounce of sunlight peering in except through the windows. And there wasn’t a trace of smoke staining the stone fireplace at one end.

      Sutter stood near the hearth, nose to the wall. Behind him was a plank table flanked by benches, and beyond him, marvel of marvels, sat a stove. She’d only seen one before, in a high-price cookhouse in Vancouver. She caught Sutter glancing at the black-and-silver beast as if just as awed by it.

      At the opposite end of the room, Frisco stood stiff-backed near open stairs leading up to the loft. Several wood chairs and a carved bench were clustered close by on a colorful rag rug. Quilted cushions covered the seats. Behind them, three windows looked out onto the lake. They had shutters that could be closed against the night, but they were surrounded by red and white curtains, tied back with bows.

      Of course.

      Behind her, the door opened, and Callie stiffened. Turning, she was more than a little relieved to find Levi alone. He brought in the last pack and her rifle, moving slowly as if he thought she might bolt otherwise. He wasn’t far off.

      His smile faded as he glanced from Frisco to Sutter. “Everything all right?”

      “Just fine,” Callie told him. “Frisco, Sutter, help the preacher bring in the quilts.”

      Her brothers ran for the door, no doubt eager to escape.

      “Don’t let them out of your sight,” she warned Levi.

      Brows up, he left the pack and gun and hurried after her brothers.

      They returned immediately with the quilts, dropping them at Callie’s feet. Then Frisco grabbed the pack with his and Sutter’s belongings. “Where are we bunking?”

      Levi nodded to the stairs. “In the loft. Why don’t you go look around while I show Callie the rest of the house? Leave space for me to sleep.”

      The last was said to air, for her brothers were already halfway across the room, Sutter’s arms filled with quilts.

      “They’re high-spirited,” Callie told him, hearing a defiant note in her voice.

      “So was I.” Levi turned his look to her with a smile. “Welcome to your new home. This is the main living area.” He nodded toward the stove. “The door by the hearth leads to a covered walkway to the church.”

      Apparently the people of Wallin Landing didn’t want their pastor to get wet. Mica nodded as if she approved.

      He turned toward the stairs again, taking Callie under them to where a door opened to another room. “This is where you and Mica will be sleeping.”

      Callie ventured inside. The space was easily three times the size of the tent Ma and Pa had shared and nearly as big as Adam’s entire cabin. An iron bedstead rested against one wall, with a wooden chest at its foot. There was even a little table beside the bed with a glass lantern on it. The quilt was purple, blue and white, like waves on a wind-tossed sea, and purple curtains hung at the window. It was fancier than the best hotel room Pa had ever rented for them.

      Callie’s throat felt tight. “You sure you want to give this up, preacher?”

      His smile was prettier than the first show of color in the creek. “For you and Mica, of course.”

      Now her eyes felt hot. Callie blinked against the tears building.

      “Will it do?” he asked, head cocked.

      Callie could only nod, afraid her voice would betray her.

      His smile deepened.

      “You’ll probably want your own quilt on the bed,” he said, moving forward to tug at the covering. “Ma sewed this one for me. I can’t believe it made the journey to Vital Creek and back.”

      “I can’t believe someone didn’t steal it from you,” Callie said, fighting a pang at the sight of the quilt being bundled up in his arms. “Vital Creek was mighty cold, even in the summer.”

      He chuckled. “It was at that. I didn’t bathe for months.” He seemed to recollect himself, for pink tinged his high cheekbones. “If you’ll tell me what you want in here, I’ll leave you to settle in.”

      Callie pointed through the door to the pack, rifle and quilts, and he carried them into the room and bowed out. She shut the door behind him. Swallowing, she glanced around again, then her eyes lit on the door latch. She raised a brow.

      “No lock,” she told Mica. “Guess we’ll have to shove the chest over the door every night.”

      Mica nodded.

      Callie ventured to the bed and lay the baby down on it. Mica immediately righted herself, wiggling on the surface as if she loved the feel of her new bed. Was it really as soft as it looked? Callie bent, braced her hands on either side of Mica and pushed down. Mica positively bounced. Something squeaked.

      Callie frowned at the noise, but Mica grunted, eyes on Callie and chin tipped as if asking to bounce again. Callie obliged her. Mica collapsed in a fit of giggles.

      Callie was more interested in what had caused that squeak. She’d done her best not to share her bed with mice over the years, and she wasn’t about to start now. She bent and peered under the bed. Not even dust marred the plank surface. In the shadowed light, however, she could see what appeared to be a net of metal under the mattress, holding the bed in place.

      She straightened. “Well! What do you know about that?”

      Mica wiggled, asking to be bounced again.

      Callie gave her one more, then set about unpacking. Ma’s quilt, worn as it was, didn’t look nearly so pretty on the iron bedstead, but at least it made the place feel a bit more like home. And who was she to complain? A real cookstove, a room all to herself and Mica and a bed with springs. It was more than she’d ever dreamed of.

      There has to be a price.

      She shook the thought away. Just because everything good had cost too much on the gold fields didn’t mean she had to pay here. So far, Levi had been good to his word. This was a great deal better than their claim.

      Perhaps that was why, when her fingers brushed the smooth shell of her mother’s comb and the fabric of her dress at the bottom of the pack, she hesitated. It was the last dress Ma had owned, other than the one they’d buried her in. Callie had been saving it to cut up for Mica. Maybe there was a better use for it, for the time being.

      Maybe it was time she thought about trying to fit in again.

      * * *

      As soon as Callie shut the bedroom door, Levi drew in a breath. She’d liked the room. He wasn’t sure why that pleased him so much. But he’d seen the tears come to her eyes, the way she’d gazed about as if awed by her surroundings. It seemed all she needed was a little peace and quiet. Surely he could give her that. He’d already convinced Beth to come

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