Christmas Cowboy Kisses. Carol Arens

ready it for Joseph’s task of cutting out cookies. He knelt on a chair, one of her aprons tied around him to protect his clothing from all the flour that would be flying about as he worked.

      He cut out first one star, then another, until he had almost two dozen, not all of them perfect, but all of them suitable for the cookie sheets Joy had readied. Using her spatula, she transferred one after another of the stars until she had filled the sheet.

      “This one goes into the oven, Joseph. We’ll give them ten minutes and then check them out. They should be pretty near baked by then.” After sliding the pan into the hot oven, Joy brought her other cookie sheet to the table. “Now let’s fill this one,” she said with a smile for the eager boy who watched her.

      In no time, she found room for the rest of his stars on the cookie sheet and placed it on the warming shelf to await its turn in the oven below. She piled up the remnants of the dough and added more from her bread pan, then went through the same process as she had the first time. This time, Joseph was given a cookie cutter that resembled an angel. His tongue was caught in one corner of his mouth as he worked, and Joy and Gideon exchanged smiles as they watched him, Joy lending a hand when needed, for Joseph wasn’t yet adept at fitting the angels closely together on the cookie sheet.

      The morning passed quickly as one pan then another left the oven. The cookies were just a touch brown, marking their readiness for the next step. After the table was piled high across one end with ten dozen cookies, according to Joy’s count, they got ready to frost them. Joy filled a bowl with white icing and found some small bottles of colored sugar in the pantry, which she transferred to empty salt and pepper shakers. “I never did this before,” Joseph announced as Joy began frosting the cookies.

      “Well, it’ll take you and your father both to keep up with me, I fear,” Joy said with a laugh as she moved her frosted cookies closer to the boy. Gideon joined him, and they all sprinkled the colored sugar on the stars and angels before them, Joseph more than generous with his shakers, colored sugar flying about with gusto. Gideon announced that one of them was damaged by too many sugar crystals and must be eaten immediately, calling forth laughter from Joy and his son.

      He made a big production out of eating the angel he’d considered to be damaged, sharing it with Joseph bite for bite. “That’s the best cookie I ever ate, ma’am,” the boy declared fervently. “It surely was good. I’ll bet I could eat another one, if you wouldn’t mind.”

      “I’d be happy to get you a glass of milk to go with it, if you’d like, Joseph. And perhaps even one for your father,” Joy said happily. She hadn’t had this much fun in a month of Sundays, she decided, watching the wide grin spread across the boy’s face.

      “Would you, ma’am? I’d sure like that and I know my daddy would, too,” Joseph said, smiling through the icing that adorned his lips and cheeks.

      Within a few minutes, Grandpa had joined them, and all four sat at the table, drinking milk and sampling the cookies before them. Joy moved as many cookies to the cooled cookie sheets as she could and then found two more in the cupboard to hold the excess. The kitchen dresser held all four sheets and still the table was almost half full.

      “We’ll have enough cookies to last us for a month,” Joy said happily. “We’ll hang some on the tree later on, when the icing is completely dry. Probably by tonight. And in the meantime, I have some other tasks to finish up before the day is over. If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to sit on the rocker in the corner and get out my knitting.”

      “Can I go in the parlor and look at the Christmas tree?” Joseph asked. “I just want to sit on the sofa and enjoy it.”

      “You sure can, son,” Gideon said, ushering the boy away from the knitting scene lest he figure out that the work keeping Joy so busy was intended for him. She’d finished the hat last night and had begun working on the scarf before her eyes closed midway through a row, almost causing a calamity when the stitches came close to sliding from her needles. Now she knit the final ball of yarn into the length she’d determined would fit around the boy’s neck and crisscross on his chest to keep him warm beneath his coat. The mittens would have to wait till after Christmas, for she had another task she wanted to complete before dark.

      She’d found a large ball of brown yarn in her basket of supplies and determined to do a scarf for Gideon, even if it took all evening. She was quick at the task, for she’d been knitting since she was but a youngster. She’d made Grandpa a new hat and scarf over the past weeks, working at it in her bedroom to keep it a secret from him, and had fashioned a vest for him out of the deerhide she’d cleaned and stretched. Now if Gideon’s scarf was ready in time, she’d wrap them in the tissue she’d bought in town a while ago. It was red and would look festive under the tree come morning. She needed only to make out small name tags for the packages and then scoot into the parlor after everyone else was in bed to put them beneath the tree.

      * * *

      Christmas morning began before the sun came up. Joy was busily making cinnamon rolls, having put them to rise atop the warming oven the night before. She fried up a panful of bacon and a dozen eggs, sliding them onto her big platter to sit in the center of the table when everyone had assembled for breakfast. She toasted six slices of bread in the oven, then buttered them and presented them on another small plate.

      “This is a feast fit for a king,” Gideon pronounced. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold and he sat closest to the stove to soak up the warmth. The chores were done, he’d said as he came in the backdoor, and after he’d washed up at the sink, he helped Joseph wash, then sat him on a store catalog atop his chair. Grandpa came in, a smug look on his face as he joined the group around the table.

      They held hands while Gideon said a blessing over their food, and then they all tucked in with a will, the bacon and eggs disappearing quickly. The cinnamon rolls were hot from the oven and Joy cut them up in big squares and passed the butter. They drank coffee and ate the rolls almost in silence, so tasty were the sweet offerings. Joseph drank two glasses of milk, declaring the rolls to be the best thing he’d eaten in forever, causing his father and Joy to laugh heartily.

      They lit the candles on the tree, and then all sat down on the sofa but for Gideon, who announced he would distribute the gifts. Joseph was delighted with the hat and scarf Joy had made and thanked her profusely. Grandpa was surprised at his own knitted gift and muttered his thanks with a low growl. His misty eyes needed wiping with his big kerchief as he unwrapped the vest Joy had stitched so carefully from the deerhide.

      “I sure didn’t expect such a wonderful surprise, girl,” he said in a gruff tone, his smile belying the sound. With Gideon’s help, he donned his gift and beamed as he smoothed his hands over the front, examining the buttonholes Joy had worked into the suede fabric. Gideon was more than happy with the scarf he received, declaring it a lifesaver, for he needed something to keep his ears warm.

      Grandpa pointed at a brown-wrapped package and Gideon lifted it from beneath the tree and cast a questioning look at him. “Give it to Joy,” he said, and Gideon did so with a flourish. Joy took it on her lap with a cry of glee.

      “How did you...? What did you...?” she asked, her cheeks pink with confusion and pleasure as her fingers untied the string that encircled the package. She folded back the paper, and within the wrapping lay a navy blue cloak, three frog fastenings at its throat. Joy stood up and held it before her, admiring the red binding that accented it, encircling the neck and then running down the front of each lapel and down to the hem.

      “Oh, my! Oh, my!” she crooned, unfastening the loops and swirling the cloak about her, holding it closely against her throat and turning in a slow circle before her audience. Grandpa smiled, Joseph clapped his hands with glee and Gideon could only watch in admiration as the woman before him cast warm glances at all the males in her family.

      “You surely do look like a Christmas angel, Joy,” Grandpa said with a hint of tears in his voice. “I knew you’d look beautiful in that thing. Had it ordered from the catalog for you and picked it up a while ago when we went to town.”

      “I didn’t know,” Joy said. “You sure