A Western Christmas. Louise M. Gouge

only make her appear ungrateful. Besides, a few extra moments with Caleb, and his daughters, would be a treat worth savoring for many days to come.

      “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll only be a moment.”

      * * *

      Over the next two days, Ellie made a concentrated effort to avoid the entire Voss family. She managed to do so easily enough, primarily by sticking close to home. But her self-imposed isolation came to an end Sunday morning. Church beckoned, as did the promised dinner with Caleb and his daughters, a meal Ellie was looking forward to more than was probably wise.

      The day dawned clear and cold. The sky was a brilliant blue that looked brittle enough to crack. Tucking her hands inside her muffler to keep them warm, Ellie stepped onto her father’s porch, smiled up at the heavens, then made the short trek next door to the church.

      She’d dreamed of Caleb again last night, the same dream she’d had the night before and the night before that. They’d been sitting together in front of a roaring fire, the scene playing out exactly as she’d imagined at play practice. While she read to their children, Caleb stoked the fire. The twins were there with them, plus a babe in a cradle, and...

      It had only been a dream, she reminded herself, triggered no doubt by a long-ago affection for a boy who had grown into an attractive man. A man so averse to falling in love he was prepared to take wedding vows with a stranger.

      Ellie would be smart to keep her distance, especially emotionally. She would see the Voss family today, and then go back to avoiding them.

      As if to mock her resolve, she caught sight of Caleb and his daughters crossing the street. Her stomach performed a quick, hard roll. Caleb was handsome in all black save for his crisp white shirt. The girls were absolutely adorable all wrapped up in matching blue coats, mittens, hats and scarves.

      “Miss Ellie,” one of the two bundles shouted as she lifted her hand in a wave.

      “Hello, Hannah,” Ellie called out in return.

      The child’s eyes widened. “How did you know it was me?”

      The little girl’s surprise was understandable. Ellie doubted many people could tell the twins apart. On first glance the girls were identical. But they had very different personalities.

      Hannah held herself with more confidence than her sister. She was certainly more precocious. Her smile also came quicker, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

      Clearly impatient for an answer to her question, Hannah jammed two tiny fists on her hips. “Did you really know it was me or did you just guess?”

      Holding back a laugh, Ellie smiled down at the gregarious child. “Actually, I can tell you apart from your sister rather easily.”

      “You can? That’s really, kind of...” Hannah seemed to search for the right word “...amazing.”

      “Yes,” Grace agreed, slipping in front of her sister so she could join the conversation. “Very, very amazing.”

      Not for the first time, Ellie felt a need to pull the two girls close. They were smart and sweet, the kind of children any teacher would be glad to have in her classroom. And that any woman would be proud to mother as if they were her own children.

      Careful, her better judgment warned for the hundredth time in a smattering of days. Remember your place.

      Hannah attempted to reclaim her spot in front of Ellie, all but shoving her sister out of the way.

      Silent until now, Caleb muttered something to the girls then set a hand on each of his daughter’s shoulders. The gesture was all it took to put an immediate end to their jockeying for position.

      Impressed, Ellie lifted her gaze to meet his.

      His eyes were dark beneath the brim of his hat, his smile a mere tilt of one corner of his mouth. Ellie thought she detected a hint of humor in his expression, and something that looked like affection. For her, or the girls, or all three?

      The responding hope in Ellie’s heart felt too intimate, too real. How was she supposed to remain immune to the man when he looked at her like...like...that?

      “It’s good to see you again this morning.” His deep voice fell over her soft as a caress.

      She swallowed back a sigh. “Good to see you, too.”

      Their gazes held a long, silent beat. As always, whenever he gave her his undivided attention, an unspoken message passed between them, one Ellie didn’t fully understand. Right then, in that moment, she somehow felt less alone.

      Which made little sense. She wasn’t alone. She had her father, and would soon add his future bride, Betsy, to the ranks of her family.

      And yet, with Caleb eyeing her so closely, his gaze soft and welcoming, a warm sensation moved through her. Ellie couldn’t help but think of far-off dreams and a happily settled future.

      “Will you sit with us during service?” Hannah asked.

      Touched by the request, Ellie once again smiled down at the child. “If it’s all right with your father, then, yes, I’d like that very much.”

      “As would I.” Caleb held out his hand to her.

      Ellie accepted the silent call without hesitation, then just as smoothly, reached out and grasped hold of one of Grace’s hands. Caleb took one of Hannah’s and the four of them entered the church linked together.

      Caleb steered their tiny group to one of the middle pews. A lot of shuffling and giggling ensued as he and Ellie removed the children’s hats, coats and gloves. Almost as soon as they were settled in their chosen seats, the girls between the adults, the strains of the first hymn filled the church.

      As if the organist and Ellie were in cahoots—which, admittedly, they were—the song was “What Child Is This?”

      Hannah and Grace launched into the tune with great enthusiasm. Grace had a better memory than her sister, but Hannah caught up at the end of each line, all but shouting the words sleeping and then keeping.

      Eyes dancing in amusement, Caleb chuckled softly. Ellie glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

      “I believe a bit of practice at home is in order,” he whispered for her ears only.

      They shared a smile over the children’s heads. Other young voices joined in the song, voices that belonged to children in the play. Ellie’s heart soared. Evidently her second rehearsal had been a success.

      The rest of the service went quickly. Her father’s sermon was on God’s love given to mankind in the gift of His Son, an appropriate message for the season. After the congregation sang the last hymn, her father dismissed them all with a prayer and a blessing for the coming week.

      Ellie and Caleb went through the arduous process of swathing the twins in their winter weather gear. She then escorted the Voss family around the back of the church and into the tiny room off the kitchen of the parsonage where she and Caleb once again began unraveling two squirming children from coats, gloves, scarves and hats.

      A pleasant female voice rang out from the kitchen beyond. “Do I hear the sound of familiar laughter?”

      “You do, indeed,” Ellie called out in response.

      Betsy Anderson, the woman engaged to Ellie’s father and who also served as Caleb’s housekeeper, stuck her head around the corner. Her light brown eyes peeked out from behind wire-framed glasses and, in what Ellie considered Betsy’s no-nonsense style, her gold-streaked, brown hair hung in a single braid down her back.

      Somewhere in her late thirties, maybe early forties, the other woman’s face was slightly lined, probably due as much to her worry for her dying sister as from age.

      At the moment, however, Betsy’s pleasantly round features wore a happy smile. Her cheeks were pink from exertion, as if she’d hurried to the house and then went to work immediately