Chapter 33
Before Christmas Eve a case of nerves came over Violet.
She had been so calm, organized, and confident that she had everything under control, but suddenly the jitters hit hard and fast, and she wondered if she had time to catch the Union Pacific out of town. Hop the train and chug off into the sunset, never to be heard of again. Stranger things had happened and would happen again, certainly.
But the absurd notion passed as quickly as her fear.
Violet intended to put on the most wonderful Christmas celebration, one so incredible that folks in Wylder would still talk about it in July.
Lin had finished all the pinecone decorations, so they were going to hang them from the paper garlands the children had assembled. They would swag them from corner to corner, making the schoolroom look magical.
When she devised the plan of hanging the garlands, Violet hadn’t had an injured arm. Now she struggled, holding one end of a paper chain up near the ceiling while standing on a chair while Lin stood on another chair holding the other end ten feet away. It seemed unlikely that they would get this accomplished without falling onto their heads or tearing the garlands to shreds.
Hammering tiny nails into the walls to hold the swags with one hand proved impossible, so Lin attempted the feat. Chinese women, including the one currently wielding a hammer, weren’t known for being statuesque.
“Wait a minute. Let’s look at this again, Lin.” Violet stepped down off the chair, placed the garland on the floor, and stood back. “I don’t see how we are going to get this done. We may need to make a new plan, although I hate to give up on this one. The paper chains and pinecones will be so festive—if we can hang them.”
Lin climbed down and put her hands on her hips. “Too short. Need tallness.”
“Yes, you’re right. We need tallness here.”
They had more work to do, but the garlands were the most important part of decorating left undone. The smaller tasks weren’t as essential—and not nearly as obvious. The garlands and tree were the things that everyone would notice when they walked in, and Violet wanted them to be magnificent.
One of the fathers of a pupil delivered a spruce tree to the schoolroom yesterday. He had set it in a pail and placed it in a corner. Tomorrow the children would decorate it. Tuesday, prior to the arrival of the townspeople, she would place small white candles on the branches and light them.
A knock sounded on the front door. Being Sunday morning, she didn’t expect anyone, so they turned to each other in surprise.
Violet looked at the belly stove. She and Lin had filled it with wood and opened the vent.
“We started the fire so there’s probably a curl of smoke showing from the chimney, that’s all.” She walked toward the door while she reassured Lin. “Surely someone is coming to check, to make sure the schoolhouse is secure. There’s no need to be concerned.”
The other woman gripped the hammer at her side. “Bad men. Remember, bad men.”
Violet paused. Lin had a good point. She couldn’t assume the assassins hadn’t caught up to them. She tiptoed to the door and peeked out the peephole.
Chinese assassins had not come calling.
The man on the steps bent to peer into the tiny hole at the same instant she did.
She pulled the door open and gazed at the man standing before her. He removed his hat and nodded. “Ma’am.”
A large chestnut-colored horse stood by the hitching post behind him. Weathered saddlebags hung on either side of the animal.
The horse had not been secured to the post. Its reins hung down over its head and touched the ground before its front hooves.
“You’ve forgotten to tie your horse.”
“No, ma’am, I haven’t. Charles is fine, I assure you.”
The man’s southern drawl brought a wave of homesickness. It had been a while since she heard words roll off a tongue the way his did.
“Are you sure? He’s not tied to the post—aren’t you worried he’ll run off?”
The man looked over his shoulder toward the animal. Then he turned his attention back on Violet. When he smiled, she involuntarily leaned closer, as if drawn to him by an invisible thread. It made no sense, but her body angled forward.
“Charles is the best stock the other side of the Mississippi can offer. He knows better than to run. He’s a horse with character, ma’am. No need to worry.” He wore his hair long and now he ran his fingers through it and pushed the brown tendrils away from his face.
He had eyes the color of the Atlantic Ocean. They were deep, dark, vivid blue.
Violet stared. She had seen those eyes before.
“Have we met? A long time ago, maybe?”
His smile grew. “You remember me. I always said that if I lived, I would find the girl who saved my life and thank her. I never make a promise I don’t intend to keep.”
She gasped.
Her heartbeat quickened. It couldn’t be—but it was!
“I’d recognize you anywhere, Miss Bloom. You’re still the most beautiful female I’ve ever had the honor to look upon.” He grinned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I would apologize for being so frank, but I can’t. I mean every bit of it—you are prettier than you were when you saved my life, and you were a living angel then, ma’am.”
“Tate Taylor. Why, as I live and breathe…” Dozens of questions ran through her mind, but she couldn’t speak a word. It was enough to stand and stare at the man who she had spent nearly half of her life thinking had perished.
“And I live and breathe, too. Because of you, that is.”
His words were tender and touched her heart. Tears came to her eyes.
Violet threw propriety to the wind and raised her good arm to hug him. Tate dropped his hat, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into an embrace that was a genuine Christmas blessing.
Tears fell freely as she held onto the man who she had wondered about for so long. He had made such a profound impression on her that there had not been one day since they met that she did not think about him.
“I believed you were dead.”
“I would have been if you hadn’t walked by in that hospital.”
She hugged him with her one good arm. “I prayed you had lived but I genuinely believed you had died.” Violet pulled back so she could see his face. No awkwardness existed between them. Being this close to him felt perfectly fine. “I’m so glad you’re alive. This is such a gift, seeing you again. After all these years of wondering, here you are. Who would have imagined such a thing might happen?”
Tate pushed a curl off her cheek with a gentle fingertip. “I have thought about nothing else for years. It has been my life’s mission to find you and thank you. Seeing you again, holding you close, staring into your kind eyes…this is a dream come true. Truly, this is everything to me.”
“Me, too,” Violet whispered.