Mistletoe Mommy. Danica Favorite
nodded, sniffed some more and once again wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. Then she squared her shoulders and looked at her father.
“I won’t call her mama. Or mother.”
They hadn’t discussed what the children were to call Nellie, and though Luke promised her that they would be a team, he hoped she would understand him making this decision without her.
“You can call her Nellie if you like.”
Ruby nodded. “I don’t want her acting like a mother to me. No kissing, no hugging, no tucking me in at night. I will not treat her like a mother. I will not forget my mother, and nothing you say or do will make me.”
Tears stung the backs of Luke’s eyes at his daughter’s insistence on clinging to her mother. He knew the children missed her, but it hadn’t occurred to him that bringing Nellie in would make them think that he wanted to deny their memories of her.
“I’m glad,” he said. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. Nor would Nellie.”
This time, when Luke held out his arms to his daughter, she came. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you, my sweet Ruby. I know it’s hard, and I’m sorry. I miss your mother every day, and I know you do, too. But we need Nellie. You probably don’t care about this part, but something tells me that she needs us. So let’s all do the best we can to be there for each other, even if it’s not the situation we want for ourselves.”
Ruby nodded slowly, her tears wetting the front of Luke’s shirt. She squeezed him back, and it felt good to be in his daughter’s embrace. And he hoped it felt good to her, as well. Even if she didn’t realize it now, he would always be there for her, always support her, always love her.
“Do you really miss her?” Big blue eyes like her mother’s looked up at him, searching his heart, then breaking it.
“I’ve told you I do.”
“Not very often,” she said. “Sometimes I think you don’t remember her at all.”
Her words turned his insides. Once again, Luke heard Nellie’s voice in the back of his head giving him permission to grieve the way he felt he needed to.
“Missing a person looks different to everyone,” he said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see inside my heart, but the pain of living every day without your mother is there. Nellie isn’t meant to take that away. But she can make some of the things that I’m struggling to do on my own a little easier. I need another adult in my life to help me. I know you want to be that person, but it has to be someone else.”
“All right,” Ruby said, sighing. “I don’t like this, not at all.”
Luke sighed. Ruby wasn’t bending on this point, but at least she’d somewhat agreed to cooperate. He supposed, for today at least, that that was as much of a victory as he could hope for.
Luke hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said his home was small. The tiny cabin was but one room, containing a small stove in the corner that looked like it was used for both heating and cooking, though Nellie had no idea how anything could be cooked on such a contraption. Shelves along one wall contained what appeared to be the family’s meager supplies and very few dishes. A table and chairs sat on one end of the room, awkward and lopsided, like they had been placed there as temporary furnishings, and they’d never gotten around to finding something permanent. The sitting area seemed like another thrown-together spot, with mismatched furniture that appeared to be other people’s castoffs. Though Nellie understood why Luke had been hoping for a clean house, she could see the potential in this space to make it a home.
On the far wall, Nellie could see the makeshift ladder built into the wood to gain access to what she imagined must be the sleeping loft. The only other furnishing in the room was an old trunk, probably full of the other household goods. But as Nellie looked around the room, she saw there was no place to put anything else. She glanced at the two bags she’d brought with her. They seemed to eat up the remaining space in the place, and though she’d once lamented the loss of most of her personal belongings, Nellie couldn’t help but be grateful now that she’d had to leave almost everything behind. There’d be no place to put it.
“It’s not much, I know,” Mrs. Fitzgerald said from behind her. “Luke was going to add another room before Diana’s passing, but since she’s been gone, I think he’s lacked the motivation. Perhaps now...”
Her voice trailed off as she probably thought she’d overstepped. Nellie turned to her and smiled.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I know you mean well. Change will take time, and that’s all right. I’ve been in worse situations, and I know how to make the best of things.”
Nellie set Maeve down, and the little girl immediately scrambled up the ladder to the loft. Amos cast a glance at Nellie, then followed his sister.
“Just let them go,” Mrs. Fitzgerald said. “And do call me Myrna. We don’t stand much on ceremony here.”
The older woman looked around the room, then let her gaze rest upon Nellie again. “I apologize that I didn’t do more to clean things up in here. It’s easier to keep them all at my house when Luke isn’t home. I don’t know how he manages in such a small space. I tried to sweep, but there’s only so much you can do with these little ones running about in here.”
Nellie looked down at the dusty floor. “I can imagine.” Then she gave Myrna a smile. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to manage, just as Diana did.”
Myrna pressed her lips together, then looked around the room before pulling Nellie closer to the stove. “Now, I am not saying this to speak ill of the dead, but I think you need to understand a few things about Diana.”
Pointing to the stove, Myrna said, “That chocolate cake Amos wants. Do you really think you’re going to bake one in this?”
With a sigh, Nellie shook her head. The stove was barely large enough to hold wood for a fire and a kettle on top. She had no idea how she’d make a basic meal on it, let alone a chocolate cake.
“That’s right. You’re not. Diana was no housekeeper, and she couldn’t cook a proper meal to save her life, let alone feed her family. When they first came to Leadville, she and I made a deal. I did all the cooking, and she did all my mending and sewing. I never could sew a straight seam, so it was a good trade for me. I tried explaining to Luke what we’d worked out, but he thought that taking meals from me was accepting charity.”
Myrna let out a long sigh. “I don’t think he ever knew just how poor a cook Diana was. He knew she wasn’t much for housekeeping, but I don’t think any of us had the heart to tell him the truth about—”
The door opened, and Luke entered, a sulking Ruby trudging behind him.
“Tell him the truth about what?” he asked, looking confused.
If no one else could bear telling him that his wife couldn’t cook, Nellie sure wasn’t going to. She smiled at him. “About how difficult it must have been for Diana to cook on your tiny little stove. But just as she managed, so will I.”
Nellie gave him a bright smile as she winked at Myrna. They would have to come to some sort of agreement, because Myrna was right. Cooking on this stove, meant as a heating unit, would be near impossible.
If one could look at a woodstove with fondness and love, that was exactly what Luke appeared to do. “The gentleman at the mercantile did say it was impractical, but Diana thought it the sweetest little thing, and she had to have it, so who was I to refuse?”
Then he sobered and turned his attention back to Nellie. “But if this won’t suit you, I could see what they’d take for it in trade, and what