Enjoy three short stories in this collection that covers three Christmas adventures with Andi, her friends, and her family on the Circle C ranch. Click the link to hop over to the story you want to read. Then click back to the Contents. It’s easy to read these stories on your phone, tablet or lapbook. © 2026 Susan K. Marlow
Contents
Andi’s Christmas Good-bye
Chapter One
December 1876
Eight-year-old Andi Carter and her best friend, Riley, sat on the top railing of the corral late one Saturday afternoon in early December.
“You know I can rope better than you,” Andi boasted. She clutched her worn lasso and grinned at Riley. “Leastways, I don’t ever rope calves’ hooves and get dragged around the cow pasture.”
“That was two whole years ago,” Riley said with a huff. “And at least I roped the calf. Why, you could barely rope at all back then.” He grinned “You couldn’t even rope Duke, but I—”
“I don’t want to talk about roping ranch dogs.” Andi frowned and clutched her lasso tighter.
“You started it.” Riley gave her a playful shove.
Andi nearly flew from the top railing. Just in time she threw her arms around one of the tall posts. She hugged it and scowled at Riley.
They’d practiced their roping skills all afternoon. Andi’s aim was nearly always straight and true. Her rope dropped over her pony’s neck “slicker than grease,” as Riley’s Uncle Sid often told her.
Andi had roped Coco eight times this afternoon. She never missed, so long as he wasn’t trotting too fast.
Riley was good at roping too.
But he’s not as good as me. Andi sighed happily.
“All right, all right. I’ll say it.” Riley took a deep breath. “You rope better than I do, but—”
“You always have to add ‘but’ to everything I say.”
“But . . .” Riley laughed. “I can trick ride.”
Andi’s happy thoughts dissolved quicker than a morning mist. Her friend told the truth about that. Why did Riley have to bring up such a sore topic on an otherwise perfectly good Saturday afternoon?
No matter how many times Andi begged Mother and big brother Chad to let her trick ride on Coco, the answer was always, “Trick riding is too dangerous for little girls.”
Hmm, but not too dangerous for little boys? No fair!
Mother didn’t seem to mind if their ranch foreman, Sid, had taught Riley how to trick ride. Ranch boss Chad didn’t seem to care either.
But they both agreed that Andi would not trick ride.
She shivered a little in the sun’s warm rays. Mother and Chad were probably remembering what happened to Father over two years ago. He’d been thrown from his horse and killed. Weren’t they worried that Riley might fall off Midnight and be killed?
Apparently not. Chad never ordered his foreman to stop teaching his young nephew “dangerous” stunts.
“Hey, look!” Riley broke into Andi’s thoughts. He gave a long, low whistle. “That’s a mighty fine horse coming up your driveway. I wonder whose it is.”
Andi twisted around on the railing and shaded her eyes.
Sure enough, a tall rider was trotting up the dusty Circle C driveway. Each step puffed the dust up and around his beautiful tobiano paint horse. The winter storms had not yet arrived to dump rain and turn that pesky dust to mud.
“Hey there!” the rider hollered. “Howdy!”
Chad, who had just strolled out from the barn, hiked himself up on the corral railing and returned the howdy.
The rider nudged his mount into an easy lope the last fifty yards of the driveway. He brought the paint horse to a stop alongside the corral.
Andi watched, openmouthed. Two years ago, Riley’s mother had felt well enough to spend Christmas with Riley, her brother Sid, and Andi’s entire family. She had stayed on the ranch for two months, but Mrs. Carrie Prescott had eventually returned to San Francisco.
Riley had wanted to go with her, but she was still not completely healed from her consumption illness.
“Not yet, Son,” his mother had told him sadly. “It won’t be long, though. You like it here on the Circle C, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes!” Riley answered. “Uncle Sid is good to me, and Andi’s my best friend.”
Mrs. Prescott had smiled. “Your father is so busy with the army these days that he’s barely at the fort. Be patient.”
“Yes, Mama,” Riley promised. He’d waved a cheerful good-bye when she left, clearly happy for her long visit, but just as cheerful to be staying behind on the Circle C.
But now? Andi stared at the tall army captain in his blue uniform. Riley’s father was here. What could this mean?
Maybe Captain Prescott had come for a visit, like Riley’s mother had. Perhaps he was here to check up on Riley before going off on more army duties.
Why, oh why had Riley’s father shown up today?
Andi didn’t have to wait long to hear the answer to her worrisome, unspoken question.
“Why have you come, Pa?” Riley asked, hugging his father tighter.
Captain Prescott chuckled. “Don’t you know, Son? I’ve come to take you home.”
Chapter Two
Andi gasped and gripped the corral post. Home? To that big fort what’s-its-name in San Francisco?
“You’re taking me back to the Presidio?” Riley’s eyes shone.
“For a little while,” Captain Prescott said. “But I’m being transferred to Fort Alcatraz after the holidays. Your mother is feeling much better. We can be a family again.”
Andi slumped. Riley couldn’t leave the ranch. He just couldn’t. Her friend had lived with his Uncle Sid on the Circle C for so long that Andi hardly remembered what her life was like before Riley showed up.
Had it already been three years? Every adventure in Andi’s short life included Riley. Together they had gotten lost and then found by the Yokut Indians.
They had gone to the state fair two years in a row. Riley won third place when he brought mean Henry the rooster to the fair. He’d sat behind Andi on the long train ride and explained all about coal, and how it made the train go.
The only place Andi had gone and where Riley did not follow was school. Now, she wished Uncle Sid had made him attend so she could have seen him more often.
Hot tears stung her eyes. Who will I play with all day? No. Riley could not leave.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Andi.”
The captain’s words jerked Andi from her spinning thoughts. Her head snapped up.
“What do you say?” Chad prompted. Clearly, he had introduced himself and his younger sister.
“N-nice to meet you,” Andi stammered.
Inside she cringed. It was not nice to meet Riley’s father at all. He was taking Riley away from her.
“Stay for supper, sir,” Chad invited. “You, Sid, and Riley are welcome around our table for a going-away party.” He ruffled Riley’s brown tangles. “This is a happy day, boy.”
“It sure is, Mr. Carter!” Riley crowed. Then he caught Andi’s gaze. His lips pressed together into a straight line. Whatever he planned to say next stayed inside.
Andi dropped from the corral railing and ran for the barn. If she stayed one minute longer, Chad, Riley, and Captain Prescott would see her cry. She could not let that happen.
Slipping past the double doors, she climbed up the ladder into the hayloft and found one of Bella’s kittens. Pulling the tabby-striped ball of fluff into her arms, she sobbed until no more tears poured out.
The afternoon dragged on.
Later, the December sun went down, bringing with it the chill of a clear, crisp evening. Still, Andi did not come down from the loft.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of footsteps echoed inside the quiet, darkened barn. Then came a swishing noise—the sound of hay tossed to half a dozen hungry horses. Whinnies, snorts, and snuffling were sounds Andi usually loved. Tonight, she ignored them.
A glow from the lantern shone below. It came closer, then up the ladder until Andi had to squint against the brightness.
A dark face showed from behind the yellow light. Andi couldn’t tell who it was at first, but her oldest and favorite brother’s voice gave him away. “Hey, honey. It’s suppertime. Come down. We have guests.”
“I know.” She made no move to slide over to the edge of the loft. She scooped up an orange kitten and held him against her chest.
Instead of scolding her and demanding she come down this instant, Justin sighed. He climbed all the way up the ladder, brushed the hay away, and set the lantern down in a safe spot. Then he hauled himself into the loft.
He whistled. “I haven’t been up here for ages.” He spied a rope hanging from high above, secured to the barn’s peak. “Same old rope we all played on. You and Riley have had hours of fun up here, haven’t you?”
Tears threatened to spill, but Andi wiped her eyes before they could dribble down her cheeks. She nodded. “Riley found a giant spider’s web up here the time Aunt Rebecca came for Christmas. You wouldn’t believe how many flies were caught in that web, and how many spiders I put in a jar!”
Justin smiled. “You caught them for your lizard Pickles.”
“Most of them, anyway.” Andi gave him a grin, but just a small one.
Justin settled against a wooden crate and looked at his sister. Then he took a deep breath. “You know, Andi, that this day had to come sometime. Riley’s stay with his Uncle Sid was only supposed to last six months.”
Andi’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Her brother nodded. “When Mrs. Prescott couldn’t shake her sickness, the doctors encouraged her to let her young son stay on the ranch until she was completely healed.”
He scooted closer to Andi and put an arm around her. “Think how much Riley’s mother missed him as the months—and then the years—went by. Think how much Riley must have missed his mother. Instead of drowning in your own sorrow, you should be happy that Riley can go home and be with his father and mother.”
Andi ducked her head, relaxed, and let the kitten go. As usual, Justin knew just the right words to help soothe her hurting heart.
“You have so many good memories with this friend,” Justin reminded her. “Christmas is coming. Instead of crying for what can never be, perhaps you could think of a special gift for Riley’s going away. Something he will remember you by, like a Christmas good-bye.”
Andi pondered but didn’t reply.
“What do you say? Come on down for supper and show Riley and his father that a Carter can rejoice with others. You know the verse. ‘Rejoice with them that do rejoice and—’”
“‘—weep with them that weep,’” Andi finished.
Right now, she was in the weeping mood.
Justin hugged her. “We will all weep with you after Riley has left. But for now, can you rejoice that he’s going home to be with his family?”
Andi bit her lip. Did she really want Riley to see her with a red face and puffy eyes and remember her that way?
Of course not!
She untangled herself from Justin’s hold and stood up. Carefully, she picked every piece of hay from her hair and clothes. Then she looked her brother full in the face.
“I’ll try.”
Justin smiled and lifted the lantern. “Good girl.”
His words and glowing face warmed Andi through and through. But there was one teensy-weensy problem.
What could she give Riley for a Christmas good-bye?
Chapter Three
A Christmas good-bye gift, Justin said. It must be something so special that Riley would never, ever forget Andi Carter. Even if he lives to be one hundred, she thought.
What could she give him? It would take days and days to think of something just right, but Andi did not have days and days. She had only one day, Sunday. That was hardly enough time to think of a present for her best friend.
Even if she did think up something, Goodwin’s Mercantile was not open on Sunday. No stores in Fresno opened on Sunday, the Lord’s Day.
Riley and his father planned on leaving the Circle C ranch bright and early Monday morning. “It’s a long train trip back to the Presidio,” he’d told the Carter family after supper Saturday evening. “Plus, I have to settle Riley’s horse Midnight and my Toby into a freight car.”
So soon? Andi had gasped, but only on the inside. After her talk with Justin, she had repeated the Bible verse about rejoicing over and over in her head. Whenever she wanted to cry, she recited that verse.
No tears! When Riley left, she could cry as much as she wanted. Justin had said so. But not now.
After Sunday school, Andi ducked into her room.
She opened her treasure box and dug around inside. Maybe there was something in here that might please Riley and cause him to remember her forever and ever.
She lifted out her favorite treasure, a rattlesnake’s rattle Mitch had brought home from the hills a couple of years ago. She shook it.
The rustle, rustle of the segments brought a smile to Andi’s face. Boy, how she’d scared Melinda’s friend Sarah that first awful day of school! When she told Riley about it that afternoon, they had both rolled in the hay, laughing their heads off.
A rattlesnake’s rattle might make a good Christmas good-bye. Then she noticed that one of the brittle segments had broken off.
Andi sighed. No. Sooner or later, a rattlesnake’s rattle would break up and fall apart. She tossed it back inside her special box. Then she poked around to find something extra special, but nothing else struck her fancy.
Riley wouldn’t care about the shell necklace from Choo-nook, even though he had been there when the Indian girl gave it to Andi. She shook her head. A necklace would remind Riley of Choo-nook, not Andi.
A wild turkey feather was no good, either. How would a feather remind Riley of his best friend when he was far away in the city?
Andi flung herself on her bed and thought. She couldn’t give Riley a kitten. His mother might not let him keep it.
She couldn’t send a baby chick or a calf, either.
She glanced at the piggy bank on her bookshelf. There was no use counting her money. What few dimes, pennies, and quarters she found were no good today. Not when the town’s stores were closed.
Besides, whatever she bought—a top, a whistle, or a bright-blue bandana—were just things. Riley wouldn’t find anything special in store-bought toys.
Just then, the Sunday afternoon sunshine shone in through the French doors. Something reflected off a piece of glass on her shelf, catching Andi’s eye.
She sat up and took a closer look. Sitting next to her piggy bank, a photograph in a gilded frame rested. The picture showed a girl and a boy, along with their horses.
Andi reached up. Trembling fingers took hold of the picture, and she brought it close to her face.
Just last month, Aunt Rebecca had arrived at the ranch on one of her famous surprise visits. Along with a couple of wide-brimmed hats for Andi and Melinda, she also brought a young man, a photographer.
Andi didn’t want to argue with her aunt, so she put on her white dress and the horrible hat. Then she stood stiff as a statue while the fussy photographer hid under his black cloth and snapped her picture.
Later, after Melinda was subjected to the same picture-taking event, Andi came up with an idea—an excellent idea. Perhaps the photographer would be willing to take a picture of Andi and Riley and their horses.
Aunt Rebecca hemmed and hawed and frowned, but she finally agreed to make the arrangements.
Andi studied the photograph in her hands. A smile cracked her face. Riley had not been too happy about this idea, but he’d gone along with it. Good ol’ Riley! He stood stiffly, clutching his big, black horse’s reins, looking like he wished he was anyplace else.
Andi, dressed in white, stood next to Riley, smiling brightly and showing off her young filly.
Andi and Riley. Taffy and Midnight.
Sudden, happy tears swam in Andi’s eyes. This was the perfect Christmas good-bye. Riley could not forget Andi if he had her likeness. She quickly found a scrap of tissue paper and tied up the package with a bright-blue ribbon.
When Andi finished, she set the gift on her bedside table. Then she whispered, “I can’t wait to see his face!”
Chapter Four
Monday morning dawned clear, but crisp and cold. Winter was without a doubt on the way. Christmas waited just around the corner.
Andi had been up since before dawn. She didn’t want to miss Riley’s going away, even though the whole family had said good-bye last night in the parlor.
Andi had said good-bye too, but it wasn’t the same when she stood with all the grown-ups. She knew Riley felt awkward too.
“Meet me tomorrow morning in the hayloft before you leave,” she’d whispered before she went upstairs to bed.
Now, Andi waited on scratchy hay, shivering in the dimly lit, predawn barn.
Meow.
Bella rubbed her head against Andi’s legs, purring a happy good morning at this unexpected loft visitor.
Riley’s head popped up at the top of the ladder just then. “Hi, Andi!”
Andi nearly jumped out of her skin. “You scared me.”
Riley swung into the loft and plopped down next to her. “I was practicing my Indian sneak.”
“That was pretty good,” Andi admitted.
Riley laughed. “I’ve got it down real good by now.”
He sure did. He’d sneaked up on Andi without making a sound.
Riley looked up at the high peak. “Can I swing on the rope one more time?”
Andi shrugged. “Sure.”
Riley scrambled to his feet and grabbed the end of the rope Slipping and sliding, he climbed to the top of a large haystack. Then with a whoop, he pushed off and swung in a wide arc over Andi’s head.
When he let go, he fell into a pile of hay not far from Andi. “I’m gonna miss this hayloft,” he said softly when he’d brushed off the hay and settled himself next to Andi. “I’m gonna miss you.”
Tears stung Andi’s eyes. Rejoice with them that do rejoice. “I’m gonna miss you too.” Her voice caught. “But I’m glad you can be with your mother and father again.”
Riley picked up a piece of hay and twirled it between his fingers. “You have the best ranch in all of California.”
“Riley!” Captain Prescott called. “Let’s go!”
Riley rose. “Coming, Pa!”
Andi dug her hand into her pocket. It was now or never. “Wait, Riley. I”—she swallowed—“I have something for you. Something so you won’t forget me.”
Riley laughed. “I’ll never forget you, Andi. Not ever. You’re my best friend.”
Andi thrust the tissue-wrapped package into his hands. “This is to make sure you don’t.” She smiled. “Plus, it’s a Christmas present.”
Riley yanked the ribbon loose and tore away the tissue paper. “Andi!”
He gasped and looked at her. His hazel eyes were wide and full of surprise. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
Andi stood up and faced him. “Say ‘thank you’ and get going before your pa comes looking for you.” Then she threw her arms around her friend. “Good-bye, Riley.”
“Riley!” His father’s voice grew louder. He poked his head into the barn. “Time to go. Now.”
Riley gently pulled himself from Andi’s tight hug. “Thank you.” With the photo clutched in one hand, he scurried down the ladder, waved, and disappeared from Andi’s life.
After Riley left, Andi threw herself down into the hay and sobbed her heart out.
Note: Riley Prescott returns to the Carter ranch eight years later (1884) in the Circle C Milestones book, The Last Ride.
Andi’s Christmas Blizzard
Chapter One
December 1877
“I sure wish it would snow.”
Nine-year-old Andi Carter slumped in her chair at the breakfast table and picked at her bowl of oatmeal. It was drenched in white sugar and thick cream, but she couldn’t enjoy it. Not today.
Just past the tall French doors that led outside to the patio, the California sun shone down warm and bright. The temperature had dropped last night, but the water in the horse trough didn’t freeze.
She was pretty sure the thermometer would hit seventy degrees in the shade.
What kind of Christmas was that?
The stories in Andi’s school readers revolved around winter, and winter everywhere except California was filled with snow, icicles, and red-cheeked children—mostly boys—flying down hills on their new Christmas sleds.
She plopped her elbows on the table and glared out the window. “Why, oh why, can’t it snow, even once?”
“Snow?” Chad scratched his chin and turned to Justin. “How’s your memory, big brother? Do you remember the last time it snowed on this ranch?”
Justin pondered. Then he snapped his fingers. “I do remember. I was thirteen. You were twelve. Mitch somehow got his face washed in two inches of snow.”
“No, brother Justin,” Chad argued. “One inch of snow.”
The brothers laughed at this old, well-worn story.
Mitch did not laugh. “You were a couple of bullies. I remember it perfectly. A mean trick to play on a seven-year-old boy, washing his face in the snow like that.”
Chad and Justin gave Mitch innocent blue looks. “We? Bullies? We were including you in our romp in the snow.”
“I got you back with those dead bugs I collected fro—”
“Never mind.” Andi sighed impatiently. She did not want to hear this snow tale one more time. “Why couldn’t it snow more than one time in”—she wrinkled her forehead and did the arithmetic—“twelve years?”
Justin winked. “You cipher quite well, honey.”
Right now, Andi’s favorite and easiest subject was not important. “Don’t change the subject,”
Mother smiled. “Your brothers have decided to take today off from ranch work, Andrea. They’re heading for the high country to cut down our Christmas tree.”
Andi’s eyes widened. “Even Justin?”
“Yes, even me. The courts can do without my lawyering for one day.” He chuckled. “Would you like to come along?”
Andi dropped her spoon. It landed in her oatmeal with a quiet splat. A blob of mush found Andi’s cheek, but she ignored the messy spot. “Me? Really? But what about—”
She snapped her mouth shut just in time. She did not want the word “school” to fly out of her mouth. There were still three days left before school let out for the holidays.
Worse, Mother was still the substitute teacher while Miss Hall’s sprained ankle healed. Would she let her own daughter play hooky from school?
Mother looked at her kindly. “It won’t hurt if you miss one day of school. I’m sure the schoolboard won’t scold the substitute teacher for allowing a student to have a little fun with her brothers.” She turned to Justin. “Am I right?”
Justin, a member of the schoolboard, nodded. “As always, Mother.”
“And you will be home in time for supper?”
“Yes, and we’ll be as hungry as four bears,” Chad replied, grinning. “We’re only going high enough to find a bushy fir tree.”
“High enough to find some snow,” Andi said.
“Of course, Sis,” Mitch agreed.
A sudden burst of generosity exploded inside Andi. As much as she wanted to play hooky from school and find snow today, it might be nicer to wait for Melinda.
“Maybe Melinda would like to come with us. She’ll be home next week from Miss Whitaker’s Academy. I bet she’s ready for a nice, long holiday. She’s been gone since the fall.”
It seemed like an eternity since Andi’s fourteen-year-old big sister had left, and she missed her dreadfully.
“That is very kind, Andrea,” Mother said, smiling. “But Melinda would probably rather walk in the door and see everything decorated and smelling like Christmas.”
“True,” Mitch said. “She’s not one to tramp around in the wilderness.”
Andi clapped her hands. “I am!”
“That’s why we invited you to go along this year,” Chad reminded her.
“You’d better finish that cereal so you have the energy to help with the tree,” Mother suggested.
Andi dug into her now-cold oatmeal and chugged it down so fast that Mother warned her to slow down before she choked.
I’m going to see snow! Her thoughts whirled faster than the top Cory had brought to school last week. Most years Chad and Mitch cut the tree while she was in school. It was a rough trip—too exhausting for little girls.
Not this year, though. “I reckon nine years old is big enough to go on such a snowy adventure,” she said to herself. Everyone else had left the table.
A minute later, she pushed back her chair, carried her empty bowl to the kitchen, and flew up the stairs to get ready for the all-day adventure into the mountains.
*****
Andi clomped down the stairs feeling like a grizzly bear dressed for winter. She slid her hand along the banister railing but knew she was too bundled to climb aboard and slide down.
Under her overalls Andi wore a pair of long johns—red flannel underwear—and a flannel shirt Mitch had lent her. She found her red wool coat and hat without any trouble.
Finding mittens was harder. No one needed mittens in California, at least not in the valley.
But Mother helped, and soon Andi was loaded with winter clothes both on her body and in her arms.
She piled the heaping load of outerwear into the wagon bed. Then she laid her snowshoes on top. Funny-looking footwear, but the boys promised they would show her how they worked. They’d better. Snowshoes looked tricky.
Mitch tossed in a saw and a double-bit ax.
“Be extra careful with this,” Mother advised. She handed Mitch a wicker basket full of a picnic lunch.
A picnic in December! Yum! Andi wriggled with joy. How blessed she was to have this wonderful family. “Do I get to help pick out the tree?”
“Absolutely,” Chad replied. He tossed his winter gear into the wagon bed and looked east. The sun had climbed a little higher into the December sky. “Perfect day. No fog, sunny, and crisp.”
“And no rain,” Andi put in. Rain meant mud. Circle C ranch mud was the sloppiest, gooiest mud in the entire state. Once, Andi lost a new pair of riding boots when the mud oozed up past her knees. The only way to get out of the sucking mud was to slip out of her boots and leave them behind.
What a terrible, muddy day that was!
Chad pointed to the faraway peaks. “You’ll see snow, today, little sister. You can count on it.” He ruffled Andi’s hair and headed for the barn.
Ten minutes later, the bay horses, Jingo and Barney, were hitched up to the wagon. Andi found a couple strings of old bells in the tack room and tied them to the harness.
Jingo shook his mane, and the bells jingled. Perfect!
Andi climbed into the back of the wagon. “Let’s go!”
Mother strolled up to the wagon just then. Her arms overflowed with blankets. “You will be warm and cozy if you don’t have to sit on that hard wagon bed.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Andi piled the blankets on the floor of the wagon bed and plopped down to try them out. They felt warm and cozy, all right. Too warm and cozy.
Drops of sweat were starting to form at the back of Andi’s neck. The sun was so warm that she wanted to peel off her flannel underwear. Maybe she had dressed too warmly too soon.
Justin, Chad, and Mitch were in shirtsleeves.
“Have a lovely time,” Mother said. “Hot chili and Luisa’s famous cornbread for supper.”
Andi’s stomach rumbled, even though breakfast had just ended. Yummy!
Chad gave the horses a slap with the reins. The wagon jerked, and they were on their way.
Chapter Two
“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way . . .”
Andi sang at the top of her lungs, right along with her brothers. The words, mixed with the horses’ jingling bells, echoed back from the rolling hills. It was a Christmas song, and Andi knew most of the words.
She sang all the verses she knew and thought the song was over, but then Chad sang another verse in a clear, deep voice.
“A day or two ago,
I thought I’d take a ride,
And soon Miss Fanny Bright
Was seated at my side.
The horse was lean and lank;
Misfortune seemed his lot.
He got into a drifted bank,
And then we got upsot.”
“What does upsot mean, Chad?” Andi asked.
“Spilled out of the sleigh,” Chad answered. Then he sang the rest of the ballad about a poor young man who was left adrift in the snow when his sleigh overturned.
Andi laughed at all the silly verses.
The morning flew by. Jingo and Barney trotted along until the road became too steep, narrow, and curvy. Then Chad slowed the horses to a walk.
Andi had been too busy singing and watching the hills that seemed to grow larger the higher they went. Then she glanced behind the wagon and gasped. “Look!”
The wagon had left two long, wide lines in a thin dusting of snow. The brown, winter-dead grass pushed up through the snow, but not for long. Ten minutes later, the snow was a few inches deep. Only the tops of the highest grasses could poke through.
An hour later, the world turned sparkling white.
Andi looked up. High overhead, towering ponderosa pines and firs poked the sky. For sure, I want to do this every year.
She took a deep breath.
Then she blew tiny puffs of air and watched the clouds of breath float away. “Why is my breath cloudy?” she asked.
Justin turned from his place on the high wagon seat and answered patiently. “Your warm breath is full of tiny water droplets. The cold air can’t hold all that water, so when your breath hits the cold air, it condenses, which makes your breath look misty.”
Andi didn’t know what “condenses” meant, so she just smiled and said “oh.” Then she went back to daydreaming of ice castles and snow princesses.
The wagon jerked to a sudden halt in the middle of one of Andi’s imaginary stories. She fell backward onto the mound of blankets. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Justin said. “The snow is too deep to drive the wagon any farther.”
“We’d need a sleigh to keep going,” Mitch added. “Look how deep it is.”
Andi glanced over the side of the wagon and gasped. “Snow!” She couldn’t wait to explore this white fluffiness.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Chad warned. “You’d better bundle up in more clothes.”
Andi’s brothers jumped down from the wagon and pulled on their coats and heavy gloves.
“I hope you’re wearing extra socks inside those boots,” Chad said. “From here on, we walk, and it’s a long way.”
Andi looked with longing at Mother’s picnic basket. “Can we eat first?”
Mitch nodded. “Good idea, lil Sis. I’m hungry too.”
Andi dug into Mother’s tasty roast-beef sandwiches and leftover chocolate cake from last night. She took a sip from her canteen and squealed. Ice-cold lemonade instead of water!
Wouldn’t the boys be surprised?
They were, and it wasn’t long before they felt refreshed and ready to go after that perfect Christmas tree.
The road soon narrowed to a slight path through the forest. The snow came up past Andi’s knees. She trudged behind her brothers, panting. This is a lot of work.
She didn’t say it out loud. They might not take her next year if she couldn’t keep up. So, she lifted her legs higher and kept going.
After what seemed like hours later, Justin held up his hand. “It’s time for snowshoes,” he said. “We can’t keep breaking this path. I’m beat.” He pulled Andi up next to him. “So is Andi.”
No, I’m not, Andi wanted to argue, but that would not be the truth. Her legs trembled from working so hard.
“That’s what you get for spending all your time in a fancy lawyer’s office instead of giving Mitch and me a hand on the range,” Chad teased. But he and Mitch stopped to latch their snowshoes to their boots.
Justin helped Andi with her snowshoes.
Andi grinned. “I’m glad I can wear them. They’re too heavy to carry.”
Two minutes later, Andi was not glad she could wear her snowshoes. Ker-plunk! She tripped over the snowshoes’ tips and fell head first into the snow. Brrr!
She now knew what it felt like to have her face washed in snow. No wonder Mitch didn’t like that old story. The snow was so cold that it burned like fire on her cheeks. “These things are harder to use than I thought they’d be,” she said.
“You’ll get used to them,” Chad told her. “Let’s go.”
Chad was right. The farther into the forest they hiked, the easier the snowshoes became to use.
So long as Andi made sure she lifted each foot all the way up, the tip did not catch on the snow. Snowshoes were long, heavy, and clumsy, but she made them work.
Chad and Mitch walked fast. Andi couldn’t keep up, so Justin stayed behind with her. More often than not, he held her mittened hand and saved her from a dump in the snow.
“Are you doing all right?” Justin asked a few minutes later. He pulled Andi to her feet after another tumble and brushed off the snow.
“What’s the hurry?” She panted for breath. “They’ll pick out . . . the tree before I can . . . get there.”
“Don’t worry.” Justin smiled. “I promise they’ll wait for you.”
“Over here!” Chad yelled. His voice echoed, “over here . . .”
“Come on, honey,” Justin urged. “It’s not far now.”
Justin was right. Just around the bend of the trail, a beautiful clearing opened up. “Oh, my!” Andi whispered.
Chad grinned. “Yes, sirree. The best spot for trees.” He waved his hand across a vast blanket of white. Elk and deer tracks showed everywhere in the deep snow. Tall trees rose high. Young trees stood half-buried under a fresh layer of snow.
“Go ’head and pick out a tree, Andi,” Mitch said.
Andi beamed. She wasn’t tired anymore. She spent the next half hour looking over the fir trees. One was too bushy. Another was too short. Others showed too much elk and deer damage.
“This one,” Andi finally shouted, pointing straight up.
A white fir stood about ten feet tall. It was much taller than Justin, Chad, or Mitch, but it would fit perfectly in Mother’s high-ceilinged parlor.
Chad whistled, long and low. “I think you’re right, Andi. This tree looks just about perfect.”
The boys spent the next fifteen minutes scraping snow from around the base of the tree so they could chop it down.
Finally, Chad grabbed the ax and went to work. “Stay out of the way,” he warned Andi.
She scooted halfway across the clearing, just in case.
Soon, a zing and a whack told Andi the tree was coming down, and in her direction. It hit the ground with a muffled thunk. Snow flew up and smacked her cheeks.
“It stings!” she yelled.
Her big brothers kept busy trimming the branches and getting the tree ready to haul back to the wagon. It looked like a heavy tree, but Justin, Chad, and Mitch were strong. They could drag it across the snow with no problem.
After trimming the branches, Mitch found the long rope they’d brought along. The boys started wrapping the tree’s branches close to the trunk.
Andi couldn’t help with this part of the Christmas tree adventure. She reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. Then she added more snow until she had a perfect ball. She grinned. Snow was a wonder. It made perfect round balls.
What should she do with this marvelous creation? Remembering how cold her face had become in the snow, she was sure snow in other parts of a body would be just as cold.
Andi started toward her brothers. Mitch and Justin were on the far side of the tree, tightening the knots. Chad was closer. He was down on his knees, tying the final knots in his length of the rope. His back was to Andi, and his coat collar lay open.
Perfect!
One step, two steps . . . Andi reached out and yanked his coat collar wide open. The snowball fit perfectly down his neck. She dropped it in and jumped back, ready to flee.
“Yowwie!” Chad’s surprised yelp echoed throughout the meadow. He shivered, shook the snow out of his coat the best he could, and spun on Andi. “I’m gonna get you for that.” A wicked, teasing smile covered his face.
Heart hammering, Andi ran. Or tried to run. She had taken off her snowshoes, and the snow was deep, too deep to outrun Chad and his long legs. Each step made Andi sink deeper.
Chad caught up. “Gotcha!” He scooped Andi up in his arms and headed back toward Justin and Mitch and the tree. They were watching with wide smiles.
“Let me down!” Andi hollered. Panic rose like a flood. What would Chad do? Wash her face in snow like he had washed Mitch’s? Suddenly, her innocent joke was not funny. “I won’t do it again. I promise!”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Chad said. “Not after today.”
Chad counted, “One, two, three,” then he heaved Andi high in the air. She sailed in a wide arc, arms and legs flailing. She shrieked.
Then splat! A deep snowdrift rushed up and hit her full in the face. Her scream was cut off. Snow filled her mouth and nose. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t—
Chuckling, Chad plucked her out. “Learned your lesson?”
Andi shook her head, and the snow went flying from her woolen hat. She brushed off her arms and legs then peered into her brother’s bright-blue eyes. “Yes, Chad, I learned my lesson. But oh! Could you please do it again? It was so fun flying through the air.” She pointed to the snowdrift. “With a soft landing, even though it’s cold.”
Chad stared at her, mouth agape. Then he threw back his head and howled his laughter. He tossed her twice more then said it was time to go.
Andi and her brothers strapped on their snowshoes and began the long hike back to the wagon. The boys took turns hauling the giant tree down the trail. They also cut spruce and cedar boughs along the way for household decorations.
Andi yawned. Playing in the snow had worn her out. Her steps came slower and slower. Justin tugged her hand. “I know you’re tired, but you have to keep up.”
Fearing she might be left home next Christmas spurred Andi on. It felt late. Was it suppertime already? The sun should have been bright, though it was not very high in the sky. The trees blocked the light, but it sure seemed dark right now.
Andi glanced behind her shoulder. Her snowy shadow no longer showed on the trail. She looked up. The whole sky had turned overcast and gray. “Umm, is it going to snow? I hope so.”
This was something Andi wanted to see. Snow falling from the sky. A few weeks ago, when Mother and Andi had been held captive in a cabin up in the foothills, she had seen snowflakes.
Those few snowflakes had melted fast. Before she could enjoy their beauty, the flakes had turned back into drizzly rain.
But now? Maybe thousands and thousands of tiny, delicate snowflakes would fall from the sky. Oh, please! Let it snow!
Andi’s brothers stopped short. They looked surprised. They had been so busy hauling the tree back to the wagon that they had not glanced up at the sky.
They did so now, then they looked at each other. “Uh-oh.”
Andi’s stomach turned over at their worried expressions.
“A storm’s headed our way,” Chad said. “It’s—”
A sudden, icy wind snatched away the rest of Chad’s words. The wind whipped down the path and tore through Andi’s coat like a cold knife.
She gasped.
Chapter Three
“We gotta go!” Mitch yelled. “C’mon! Hurry!” He took off down the path.
“Go where?” Andi wanted to know. “Why?”
Nobody heard her questions over the howling wind.
Justin and Chad dropped the tree. Justin grabbed Andi and ripped the snowshoes from her feet. Then he picked her up and started running. Andi heard him huff and puff.
The wind slammed against them, driving hard little icicles into their backs. Snow blew everywhere, slamming into Andi’s face. It felt like sharp needles. Ouch!
Then a terrible thought struck her. They were leaving their beautiful Christmas tree behind, in the middle of the trail. “What about our Christmas tree?” she shouted.
Justin shook his head and didn’t answer. Clearly, he needed all of his breath for running.
The wind carried them down the path at a fast run. So much snow blew that Andi could barely see the fir trees. Just ahead, Chad and Mitch looked like dark, fuzzy shapes.
A minute later, Chad stopped. He reached out his arms for Andi. Justin handed her over, panting. He nodded his thanks.
Chad took off at a lumbering run. Andi held onto his neck.
Nobody spoke. Nobody told Andi where they were going. She shivered and ducked her head against Chad’s chest. “I’m cold,” she yelled between chattering teeth.
“I . . . know,” Chad hollered back. He was panting.
A minute later, Andi saw the dark outlines of the wagon and the two horses.
Mitch and Justin were already there. They grabbed the bridles and urged the horses off the trail, deeper into the woods. The trees would give them some protection.
Chad and Andi nearly blew into the wagon. He dropped her on the forest side, where the wind wasn’t blowing as hard. Andi clamped her jaw shut against the cold. Not even all of her layers of outerwear could keep her from shivering.
Cold fear clutched her heart. How would they get warm?
The horses and wagon stood in a thicket of close-growing young trees. The horses whinnied. They didn’t like the scratchy branches one bit.
Chad calmed them down and set the wagon brake. Then he made his way over to Justin. “It’s the best shelter I can find for now,” he hollered over the blizzard’s whipping wind.
Justin pulled Andi close to his face. “Listen to me. I have to help make some kind of shelter. I’m putting you in the back of the wagon. Cover up with the blankets and stay put. Do you understand?”
Andi nodded. Justin lifted her and dropped her into the wagon bed. Scared out of her wits—and colder than ever—she burrowed under the blankets.
The coverings didn’t help much, but at least the wind was blocked a little. An icy ache entered her belly. Her head hurt from clenching her jaw, and she shivered.
Darkness pressed down on Andi where she cowered under the blankets. The wind howled, and snowflakes rattled against the wagon’s sides. They sounded like thousands and thousands of tiny pebbles. This snow is no fun. It must be a blizzard.
A scary thought stabbed her freezing thoughts. What if Justin, Chad, and Mitch had been blown away in the blizzard? What if she was left out here all alone? What if—
A sudden bump from underneath the wagon jolted Andi from her scary what ifs. What were her brothers doing under the wagon? Don’t leave me alone!
Time crawled. Then without warning, her blankets flew off. Stinging snow struck Andi’s face.
“Come on!” Chad looked half frozen. He yanked Andi out of the wagon.
“Where are we going?”
Chad didn’t answer. He dropped to his knees and shoved Andi under the wagon.
Instantly, the wind died away. It was still cold, but this was much better. Andi sat up and looked around.
Except for the hole Chad had pushed her through, a wall of snow filled all four sides from the ground up to the wagon bed. The boys were busy hauling snow to pack around the wagon.
Under the wagon, fir branches were piled thickly on top of the snowy ground. Mitch took one of the blankets and laid it over the evergreens.
Andi scooted out of the way and let him work.
Justin, Chad, and Mitch worked fast, but the light was nearly gone by the time they crawled under the wagon. They were breathing hard and shivering.
Justin plugged the entry hole and leaned back against the wagon wheel. “Now, we wait.”
Outside, the snow piled up and the blizzard raged, but under the wagon, Andi could not hear the worst of it. But what about the horses? “Will Barney and Jingo be all right?”
“They’re sheltered by the wagon and the trees,” Chad said. “It won’t be long before we feel warmer too.”
“C-can you build a f-fire?” Andi’s teeth chattered. “I’m awfully c-cold.”
Chad sighed. “No, little sister. Not unless you want to burn the roof over our heads.”
A hot flush crept up Andi’s cheeks. What a silly idea!
“Come here,” Justin said. “I’ll wrap you up in a blanket.”
Andi felt her way across the prickly blanket and into Justin’s arms. A minute later she found herself wrapped up tighter than a mummy.
Justin’s gloved hands were trembling with cold, but he kept his voice cheerful. “You’ll be warm in a jiffy.”
I don’t think I will ever be warm again, Andi thought.
“Did anybody remember to grab the picnic basket?” Mitch asked.
Justin and Chad shook their heads.
“Anybody feel like going after it?”
Nobody volunteered.
For a long time nobody spoke. Slowly, Andi’s shivering grew less. So did Justin’s. He slouched against the wagon wheel and snuggled Andi close.
“Is it suppertime yet?” Andi finally asked.
“Probably,” Mitch answered from a dark corner. The wind moaned. “I think we’re in for a long night.”
“With the four of us in this snug little igloo, we’ll be fine,” Justin said. “Bless Mother for remembering to throw in the blankets this morning. We’ll keep close together to conserve warmth. The storm will be over soon.”
Justin’s cheerful words were met with silence.
Andi did not like the silence. It was too dark and too quiet, except for that awful, howling wind. “Tell me a story.”
Chad groaned. Justin sighed. Mitch let out a big breath. But one by one, her brothers told stories about when they were little boys on the ranch.
Andi’s eyelids drooped. Wrapped in Justin’s arms, she slowly began to feel warm.
She drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Four
Murmuring voices and a scraping sound woke Andi with a start. Where am I? She felt stiff and cold, but at least her shivering had stopped.
Andi opened her eyes. Dim light was trickling through the snowy walls. It was bright enough to see Chad and Mitch. They were digging in the snow.
“What are you doing?” she croaked. Her mouth felt full of cotton.
Neither brother answered. They were too busy.
“The wind died down during the last hour,” Justin told her. “We think the storm has passed.”
“What time is it?”
“Probably a little past sunup.”
Andi frowned. “Don’t you have your pocket watch?”
“I don’t carry Father’s pocket watch with me on tree-cutting expeditions. I wouldn’t want it to get broken.”
Nobody knew the time. Nobody seemed to care.
Andi’s stomach always did an excellent job of telling time. Right now, it told her it was time for breakfast.
Andi felt wiggly too. She wasn’t sure how to tell Justin that she needed to find a tree or a bush as soon as possible. Finally, she whispered in his ear.
“It won’t be long now,” he said. “Look.”
Andi turned toward one snowy wall.
Chad and Mitch were digging a tunnel through the wall. Andi watched as they wriggled through the snow to the outside world.
First Mitch, then Chad disappeared.
A moment later, Mitch poked his head in. “It’s beautiful out here. Come and see.”
Andi crawled into a tunnel first. It was not a tight fit and she hurried as fast as she could. An enormous snowdrift had blown against the wagon during the night.
Finally, Andi saw bright, white light ahead. Sunlight! Mitch took hold of her arms and pulled her the rest of the way.
The morning was crisp and sunny. A thousand sparkly diamonds danced on the snow. Andi squinted.
Justin squirmed his way out from the snow tunnel and stood up. He stretched, stomped, and looked around. Then he motioned Andi to his side. “Over there.” He pointed to a clump of bushes where the snow was not so deep. “Be quick about it.”
Andi hurried.
When she returned to the wagon, Justin, Chad, and Mitch were scraping snow from Jingo’s and Barney’s backs. The horses whinnied their unhappiness, but they’d made it safely through the night. The trees gave them protection, and the wagon had been a good windbreak, but they looked ready to go home.
I’m ready too, Andi thought.
She glanced at the wagon. Snow had filled the wagon box clear up past the sides. Somewhere under there lay the remains of their picnic lunch. It would take a long time to shovel the snow away.
Chad looked at Andi from where he was working with the horses. “I want you to crawl back under the wagon and drag out the blankets.”
A blanket sounded like a good idea, so Andi squeezed back into the little hidey hole, which felt warm and cozy. It smelled like Christmas.
It took two trips to drag the heavy, woolen blankets out into the daylight. Andi shook them free of snow and fir needles and laid them aside.
The boys were whispering to each other.
“What’s the matter?” Andi asked. “Are you thinking of going back for our Christmas tree?” She shaded her eyes and looked up the trail. Their perfect tree had been dropped somewhere back there. The snow was so deep that in her heart, she knew her brothers could not go back for it.
She wasn’t surprised when Mitch said, “I’m afraid not.”
“That tree is snowed in,” Justin added. “It will stay there until the spring thaw.”
Tears welled up but Andi blinked them back. She could not do anything about their perfect tree. Nobody could. It was buried, maybe forever.
“You wanted to see snow, Andi.” Mitch spread his arms wide. “I reckon you’ve seen enough snow to last you many, many years. Not many people experience a blizzard.”
True, Andi thought. Snow was beautiful, but a blizzard was scary. Then she sighed. “We didn’t get a Christmas tree.”
Justin lifted Andi’s chin. “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll cut a tree. It might not be an elegant white fir, but it’ll be pretty. Right now, though, we need to head home. Mother is probably worried about us.”
Andi bit her lip. Justin was right. Mother should not worry.
She had probably worried all night.
Maybe she let the children out of school so she could wait at home for us. Then she thought, No school today! Maybe blizzards were not so bad, after all.
“How are you going to get the wagon out of that snowdrift?” Andi asked. Even if they managed it, wheels were no good in deep snow. “We need a sleigh.”
“You’re right,” Chad said. “But we don’t have one, so we’ll make do with the next best thing.” He rigged the harnesses up on Barney and Jingo. “I’m not leaving good leather harnesses out here for the scavengers to steal.”
Andi glanced from the wagon to Chad and then to Jingo and Barney. A light came on inside her cold, tired mind. “We’re going to ride the horses home.”
Chad nodded. “Which one do you want to ride?”
“Jingo,” Andi answered. She hurried over and stroked his nose. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
Jingo blew a hot, horsey breath into Andi’s face.
Just then, Mitch came around from the other side of the wagon. He was covered with snow from head to toe.
“I found the ax.” He held it up. “We’ll chop down a tree on our way home, where the snow isn’t so deep.”
Andi beamed. They might not bring home the perfect tree, but at least they would bring home a Christmas tree.
*****
It took most of the morning to ride down from the mountains. Barney had no trouble dragging the tree Mitch cut down. It was lighter than a sleigh and lighter than a wagon.
The horses trotted side by side. Justin and Andi rode Jingo. Chad and Mitch rode Barney. Their hooves clomped through the deep snow as easily as if they were trotting along J Street.
Only a trace of snow remained in the foothills. The tree Mitch cut down stayed behind. They would go back for it with the buckboard, but now it was more important to get home.
There wasn’t a flake of snow in the valley. Just mud.
Andi pushed away the blanket she’d wrapped around her shoulders. It was hard to imagine how much snow she had left a few hours ago.
A few miles from the ranch house Chad whistled and waved. “It looks like Mother stayed home and rounded up a search party.”
“Mother is riding with them,” Andi yelled. “Mother!”
Justin nudged Jingo into a lope. Soon, the search party gathered around Andi and her brothers.
“Thank God, you’re safe,” Mother prayed out loud.
Andi slid off Jingo, and Mother slid off Misty. She threw her arms around Andi. Then she looked up at Justin.
“Blizzard,” he said.
Mother’s face turned pale. “I saw the clouds over the mountains last night. The weather came up so fast. We had a terrible rain and windstorm.” She squeezed Andi tight. “I was praying hard.”
“Oh, Mother!” Andi said. “We found the perfect tree, but we had to leave it behind . . . and the boys made a snow igloo out of the wagon and snow . . . and they dug a tunnel to get out this morning . . . and—”
“Hush now.” She smiled. “You can tell me all about it later.”
She laid her gloved hand on Andi’s shoulder. “Luisa has hotcakes, crispy bacon, and hot coffee for breakfast,” Mother told her tired-looking sons. “And hot chocolate for Andrea.”
Mmm! Andi scrambled up on Misty with Mother, and they all headed home.
*****
It wasn’t a bad-looking Douglas fir tree, at least not after everybody added the decorations: cookies, popcorn strings, candles, and fancy glass ornaments.
The tree was so full of decorations that nobody could see the broken-off branches. Being dragged through the snow had not done the Christmas tree any good.
Melinda saw the tree a week later and loved it. She liked the story of how they had gotten the tree even better. Her eyes sparkled at the retelling. “Oh, Andi,” she exclaimed, “weren’t you scared and cold?”
“Oh, yes,” Andi said, “but there’s not many who can say they lived through a blizzard. That’s what Mitch told me.”
When the family gathered around the piano for their carol singing, Melinda started right in. Most of the time they sang songs like “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and “Silent Night.”
This year, though, Melinda began the caroling with “Dashing through the snow . . .”
Andi sang along with all the verses, especially the ones about the poor fellow who’d been dumped in a snowdrift.
She knew exactly how he felt.
Andi’s Interrupted Christmas
Chapter One
Early December 1878
Ten-year-old Andi Carter bounded into the ranch house after school one December afternoon. She flew straight into her mother’s arms. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever! Guess why.”
Big brother Chad walked in just then. “Because it might snow for once?” He took a bite of his apple and grinned.
Andi rolled her eyes. “That would be nice, but no. It’s something much better than snow.”
Mother smiled. “I see you’re bursting with news.”
“Spill it before you explode,” Chad said.
Andi untangled herself from Mother’s embrace. She stepped back and stood up tall. “Out of all the girls—even pretty Mary Ellen Meyers and ladylike Priscilla Johnson—Miss Hall chose me.”
She bounced up and down on her tiptoes. “Isn’t that the most exciting news you ever heard?”
“Depends on what she chose you for,” Chad said. “To clean the chalk boards? I wouldn’t consider that much of an honor.”
“Chad, please.” Mother waved his teasing away. “Let her finish.”
“I’m to play the part of Mary during the Christmas pageant at school on Christmas Eve.”
Mother smiled. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”
“I was sure Mary Ellen would get the part,” Andi said. “On account of her name is Mary. And how pretty she is. Or Priscilla, since she was Mary last year and knows the part.” Andi twirled. “But Miss Hall chose me.”
Andi could not believe her good fortune. Last year she had played a shepherd boy. Her head covering fell off during the pageant, and her dark, tangled hair tumbled down, exposing her as a shepherd girl. Oh, the shame!
The year before that Andi had played an angel—one of many. Johnny Wilson, the classroom bully, said they put all the leftover kids in the angel choir.
Leftover didn’t sound very nice. But then, Johnny was never nice. He always played the part of King Herod. Johnny came by the king’s meanness naturally.
“The older girls usually play Jesus’ mother,” Andi said. “Remember when Melinda played Mary?”
Mother nodded.
Andi sighed. “I’ve always wanted to play the part of Mary, but it never happens. Another girl always gets to.”
Perhaps Miss Hall wanted only ladylike children to play such an important role. Andi knew she would never be ladylike enough to be Mary . . . until this year.
“When Miss Hall said, ‘Andrea Carter will be Mary this year,’ I almost fell out of my seat,” Andi said breathlessly. “I was so surprised!”
Chad looked surprised too.
“Congratulations,” Mother said. “It is an honor to portray the mother of our Lord. I know you will do your best.”
“I sure will!” Andi promised. “I’ll memorize every line word-perfect.”
“Who will be playing the devoted Joseph?” Chad’s blue eyes teased.
“Cory,” she admitted. Her cheeks grew warm. “But he’s better than one of the older boys. They begged Miss Hall not to have to play any parts this year. They said they’re too old. They would rather haul in the hay and the animals for the backgrounds.” Thank goodness!
Andi would simply curl up and die if she was matched with fourteen-year-old Frank Allen or Seth Atkins. She might get teased about Cory playing Joseph, but at least she could look him in the face while she held Baby Jesus and not blush. Speaking of Baby Jesus . . .
“Guess what else, Mother? Mrs. Samuelson is letting me hold her little Richard. He’s one month old and perfect for the Baby. She says he sleeps all the time.”
Andi let out a happy sigh. “I will never forget this Christmas, not for as long as I live.”
She threw her arms around Mother once more, let Chad ruffle her hair, and flew up the stairs to share the good news with her big sister Melinda.
Chapter Two
The next two weeks flew by quicker than a wildfire. Besides keeping up with her schoolwork, Andi had to learn her lines. She had more lines than anybody else in the pageant.
Andi was so happy to be playing Mary that she didn’t care how many lines she must learn. She whipped through her homework so she could practice her part.
The short and easy lines came first, when the angel Gabriel visited Mary. “Behold, the handmaiden of the Lord,” she practiced over and over again.
There were a lot more lines to learn for the scene when Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth. A lot more.
“Once I get through Mary’s song of praise, I won’t have to say anything more,” Andi said at supper one night.
“Why not?” Big brother Mitch asked.
“During the manger scene, Miss Hall says I just need to gaze down at Baby Jesus and act . . . well . . . her exact words were ‘blessed and serene.’”
“I look forward to seeing how you pull that part off,” Chad said.
Chuckles rippled around the table. Even Mother and Andi’s oldest brother Justin were smiling.
Andi ducked her head. That will be harder than learning my lines.
*****
Andi practiced her lines to Justin on the way home from school every day for the next two weeks.
“I can nearly recite the lines myself,” he said. “You sure are giving this your all.”
“I’m going to be the best Mary ever,” Andi told him. “I want to make Miss Hall glad she chose me.”
When the buggy came to a stop in the yard, Andi leaped out and ran into the house. She flew up the stairs to her sister’s room. “Melinda, I’m home!”
Melinda had agreed to help Andi learn her lines. She opened the Bible and found the spot. “I’m ready.”
“Don’t you remember lines from your own part?”
Melinda shook her head. “A few, but I want to make sure you get it right.”
Andi smiled. “Good idea.” She took a breath. “My soul doth magnify the Lord, and”—she gulped—“and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.” She paused.
“Well, go on,” Melinda said.
“I’m trying to.” Andi took another breath. “For he hath . . . hath . . .” She sighed. “Oh, dirty rats! This part always stumps me. It’s like a bump in the road. Once I pass it, I can finish.”
Melinda frowned. “For one thing, Andi, I can tell you that Mary would never say dirty rats.”
True. Andi bit her lip. Losing her temper was not a good way to practice being blessed and serene. And she wanted to be, so very much!
“The next word is regarded,” Melinda said. “‘For he hath regarded the low estate of his—”
“His handmaiden!” Andi cut in. “I can do it now.” The verses rolled off her tongue, one after the other, with only a few more pauses for help.
Melinda grinned. “You’re doing much better. By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ll know your lines perfectly.” She held up a piece of cloth. “Mother said I could stitch your outfit. Shall we try it on?”
Andi fingered the soft blue wool. It matched her eyes perfectly. What a beautiful robe it would make. And the long, white, lace-edged scarf Melinda had borrowed from the top of her dresser made a perfect head covering.
Surely, wearing such a lovely costume would help Andi remember to behave like a blessed and serene mother!
At least she hoped it would . . .
*****
“Johnny Wilson, stop that horseplay this instant and stand still.”
Miss Hall was riled up, no two ways about it.
Andi knew why. Every time the teacher’s back was turned, King Herod started a riot. He got the shepherds and the angels to go after each other.
The girl angels shrieked when the boy shepherds whacked them with their makeshift staffs.
“For unto you is born this dayin the city of David!” Little Julianna Ross shrieked to be heard above the racket.
Toby Wright bumped into the little angel.
Julianna shoved him away and yelled louder. “For unto you is born this day—”
Toby fell into Mercy Thompson. They hit the floor with a loud thump. Mercy wailed.
“For unto you is born—”
“Oh, hush, would you?” Johnny yelled at Julianna. “Your screechy voice is burning my ears.”
Julianna burst into tears.
“Children!”
Miss Hall waded into the commotion and sorted everybody out. When they quieted down, she brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and nodded at Julianna.
“Start over, please, Julianna. From the beginning.” She sighed. “Remember, dear. Angels do not shriek their message. They announce it in a loud and happy voice.”
Andi held a beat-up ragdoll in her arms and listened to Julianna announce Baby Jesus’ birth. The doll looked nothing like Baby Jesus—or even like baby Richard. But it would have to do for now.
There were ten more days to go until the pageant, but today Andi knew her lines perfectly. Better yet, she could say them with feeling, as if she really was Mary.
Mary, who had seen a real, live angel. Mary, whom God had chosen to be the mother of the Savior.
Even Miss Hall was pleased. She’d smiled at Andi during practice yesterday and praised her. “Such feeling, Andrea! Very good.”
But today, Andi didn’t want to put feeling into her words. She didn’t want to say her lines at all.
She wanted to go home. She felt strange—
“Andrea, did you hear me?”
Andi’s head snapped up. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s hear Mary’s Song now, if you please.”
Andi set the ragdoll down and crossed the room. She looked at Susannah Warner, who was playing the part of Elizabeth. She had a lot of lines too.
“Blessed art thou among women,” Susannah began.
Andi barely heard the long speech. Her head spun, and her tongue felt fuzzy. She stared at Susannah and wished she were anyplace else.
“And blessed is she that believed . . .” Susannah recited. She droned on and on.
Susannah’s words ran together in Andi’s head. She barely heard her . . . and missed her cue.
“My soul doth magnify the Lord,” Miss Hall said.
Andi blinked and tried to remember what came next. When she realized she had ten long verses to recite before she could sit down, she recited them as fast as she could. Then she sank down in her place beside Cory to wait for the manger scene.
“Goodness gracious, Andrea!” Miss Hall frowned. “What’s come over you? You must show more feeling.” She clucked her tongue. “I want you to try it again after the manger scene.”
I don’t want to, Andi thought with a heavy sigh.
She had felt poorly ever since Justin had dropped her off at school that morning. The day had crawled by. The afternoon practice was crawling even slower.
Andi’s cheeks felt flushed. Her throat hurt.
I want to go home.
When the angels finished their lines and brushed by Andi on their way back to “heaven,” she shivered. They’d stirred up a draft.
A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over Andi. She clutched the doll and bent over to steady herself.
“Let us now go even unto Bethlehem . . .”
Andi barely heard the shepherds.
“You feelin’ all right?” Cory whispered.
Andi nodded. “Just tired.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s almost four o’clock.”
Maybe she’d feel better when she crawled into the buggy. She could lean against Justin on the ride home.
“Mary and Joseph!” Miss Hall clapped her hands. “Quickly, now. School’s nearly out. Come up here so the shepherds can visit the manger.”
Cory shot up and grabbed the sturdy oak branch he was using for a staff. When Andi didn’t move, he reached down and yanked her arm. “Come on. Miss Hall means business.”
“Hurry, Andrea,” Miss Hall said. “After the manger scene, you will need to go over your lines with Susannah again.”
Andi rose and squinted at Cory through bleary eyes. He seemed to be spinning. Or I’m spinning.
She swallowed. Her throat burned. The world spun faster. “I want my mother.” Andi closed her eyes and collapsed to the floor with a noisy thunk.
Chapter Three
Andi did not get her wish. When she opened her eyes, it was not Mother but Justin who was lifting her up in his arms. His face was pale, and his eyebrows were scrunched up in a worried frown.
“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked softly. “How do you feel?”
Hot tears gathered behind Andi’s eyelids. She blinked.
A tear dribbled down the side of her face and into her ear. “I’m hot.” She shivered. “No, I’m cold. I’m—” She broke off and whimpered. “I want to go home. I want Mother.”
“All in good time,” Justin said. “But first we need to make a call on Dr. Weaver. You’re burning up.” He straightened and lifted Andi higher. “It won’t take long.”
Andi’s feet dangled. She snuggled her head against Justin’s chest and tried to make sense of where she was.
“I do hope it’s nothing serious, Justin.”
Hearing Miss Hall’s worried voice made everything click. School. The pageant practice.
Andi moaned. I swooned, just like a weak, silly young lady.
A worse thought followed. In front of everybody! She lifted her head, horrified that she might see her schoolmates laughing at her.
The classroom was empty. Miss Hall must have dismissed school and shooed the students out the door while Andi was unconscious. She let out a shallow breath of relief.
“If you could find Andi’s cloak please?” Justin was saying. “We need to be on our way.”
Miss Hall nodded. “Of course. Come with me.”
Justin’s steps lulled Andi into a doze. She barely noticed when Miss Hall and Justin wrapped her up in her outerwear.
“Use my shawl to cover her head,” Miss Hall said. “It’s pouring rivers outdoors.”
Andi fingered the wooly garment. It smelled like the classroom. Ugh. But she was too tired and too miserable to yank it from her face.
Justin mumbled his thanks, tightened his arms around Andi, and hurried from the schoolroom.
Andi’s world blurred into the sounds of splashing hoof beats, pattering rain, and Justin’s footsteps. She felt herself heaved to and fro. Her throat burned. It was worse than any scratchy throat she had ever had.
A slamming door and the doctor’s cheerful voice woke her completely. Dr. Weaver helped Andi sit up. He peered into her eyes. He looked down her throat and frowned. “Under your tongue, missy,” he instructed.
A cold thermometer poked into her mouth.
A few minutes later, he checked the thermometer and let her lie down. “Rest easy, Andrea, while I talk to Justin.”
Andi closed her eyes but kept her ears wide open.
“I’ll wait for the rash to show up before I make my final diagnosis,” Dr. Weaver said. “But offhand I’d say she’s got herself a case of scarlet fever.”
Justin squeezed Andi’s hand. “How bad?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Weaver replied. “You need to bundle her up and whisk her home as fast as your buggy can carry you. She’ll need careful nursing, but I can’t keep her here. Your mother would have my hide.”
Justin chuckled. It was the first happy sound Andi had heard this afternoon. “You’re right about that.”
Dr. Weaver did not laugh. “I reckon I’d best get ready for another round of this wretched illness.” He let out a deep sigh. “We already had our fill of it last spring.”
Andi’s mind cleared in an instant. Scarlet fever? She shivered. A scarlet fever epidemic had sent Andi to Aunt Rebecca’s last May. San Francisco was a safe place when the rest of the valley was suffering.
Scarlet fever? Oh, please, no!
Cory had come down with it. So had Andi’s other town friends. Even big brother Mitch had caught it.
Had they felt this awful? She hurt all over.
Justin fumbled with Andi’s cloak. “Time to go.”
Andi opened her eyes. “Do I have scarlet—”
“Shh.” Justin accepted a woolen blanket and a sack of licorice lozenges the doctor held out. “Thanks.”
“The lozenges, along with ice chips, will help soothe her throat,” Dr. Weaver said. “But she’ll have to fight off the fever herself. There’s no quick cure.”
Justin’s jaw clenched. “I know.”
He wrapped Andi up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, hiked her up in his arms, and turned to go.
Dr. Weaver opened the door. “I’ll drop by the ranch tomorrow to check on her.” He laid a gentle hand on Andi’s forehead and smiled. “You rest quietly, do what your mother tells you, drink lots of tea, and suck on the lozenges.”
“Do I really have scarlet fever?” Andi croaked.
The doctor winked. “Yes, I’m pretty sure you do. But you’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”
A couple of weeks? Andi’s heart leaped to her sore throat, making it feel tighter than ever. Her eyes were too dry for tears, but they stung anyway. “I can’t be sick. Not now. I’m Mary in the pageant and—”
“Hush, my dear,” Dr. Weaver scolded her softly. “Don’t irritate your sore throat with talking. And don’t excite yourself. You’ll only make your illness worse.”
How could she make herself any sicker than she already felt? Andi wanted to argue with Dr. Weaver. She wanted to beg him to give her medicine that would make her well by tomorrow.
I have to go to school. I must be there for the practice.
By the time she gathered her woozy wits to form the words, Justin had bundled her out the door and into the covered buggy. He climbed in beside her and slapped the reins over Pal’s back. The horse leaped into a trot.
Andi remembered no more.
Chapter Four
It took Andi less than a day to figure out that scarlet fever was nothing like a cold . . . or chicken pox . . . or even influenza.
None of those illnesses set her throat on fire or made her see wild horses racing around her room. The horses snorted and reared, and Andi couldn’t get away.
The next minute, the horses galloped far away down a dark tunnel that turned into the size of a pinprick. A second later, the pinprick swelled to a gigantic horse’s head, which opened its mouth and—
“Mother!” Andi clutched the sheets and rolled her head from side to side. “Make them go away.”
Mother’s quiet voice whispered “there, there.” She laid a cold, damp cloth on Andi’s forehead.
Andi opened her eyes. The light of a low-burning lamp shone from her nightstand. Mother sat beside her.
“Oh, Mother!” Andi told her about the horses. “They were all around me,” she finished with a sob.
“Shh,” Mother said. “You’re delirious.” She stood up.
Andi grasped her hand. “Don’t go!”
“I’m only going to ask Mitch to break off more ice chunks from the block in the icebox. I’ll be right back.”
She bent down and brushed Andi’s sweat-soaked hair from her face. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
But Andi did not feel better in the morning. She felt worse than ever.
Dr. Weaver checked her neck and face then gently rolled her over and peeked at her back. “Yes, it’s scarlet fever, all right. There’s no mistaking this rash.”
He looked up at Mother. “Two more cases broke out during the night. I hope that’s as far as it goes, but one can never be sure.”
He rose and shook his head. “So far, it looks like Andrea’s case is pretty mild. Not like what we saw last spring when we lost—”
Mother cleared her throat, and the doctor broke off.
Andi knew what he was going to say. When we lost some of the youngest children. They had died.
“Andrea’s a strong girl.” He grinned and patted her knee. “You’ll beat this thing.”
“Not in time for the pageant,” Andi croaked.
She winced. It hurt too much to talk. Even if the doctor and Mother allowed her to go, Andi would never be able to say her lines. Ice chips numbed her throat for a minute, but the licorice lozenges did nothing.
After Dr. Weaver left, Andi slept. The frightening vision of the horses came and went. She remembered nothing but ice chips, cold cloths, fresh sheets, and lukewarm, awful tea.
Andi wondered if she would ever feel well again.
*****
Andi opened her eyes. The winter sun had risen and was shining through the French doors of her balcony. How long have I been lying here? It felt like days and days.
Her heart skipped a beat. Had Christmas come and gone? Did I miss it?
In the wingback chair next to the bed, her brother Mitch lay snoring. His head was thrown back over the top edge, and one leg hung over the chair’s arm. A blanket lay crumpled on the floor. He looked uncomfortable.
“Mitch?” Andi whispered. Her throat still burned, but she knew without taking her temperature that her fever was gone.
“Huh? What?” Mitch jerked awake and slammed his feet to the floor. Jumping up, he closed the distance between the chair and Andi’s bed. “Your fever broke.”
His face split into a wide grin, and he wagged his finger at her. “You had us mighty worried, Sis. You were fighting battles in your head.” He whistled. “One hundred and four. We’ve been praying day and night for your fever to break.”
Is that what being delirious meant? Fighting dream battles that seemed so real they scared her half to death? She smiled weakly. “Am I cured?”
Mother walked in just then. “Absolutely not.” She glided across the room. “But thank the good Lord, the worst is over.”
She kissed Andi’s cheek. “You’ve been a very sick little girl these past four days, and you won’t be out of the woods for at least another week—possibly two.”
Only four days had passed. Andi’s heart skipped a beat in joy. I haven’t missed the Christmas pageant!
Andi threw back her covers and sat up. “I’ve got to go to school this morning,” she said. “If I don’t, Miss Hall will choose somebody else to be Mary.”
She swallowed past the burning lump in her throat, stood up . . . and fell like a stone.
Mother and Mitch caught her halfway to the floor.
“The infection has sapped your strength,” Mother said. She guided Andi back into bed, propped her head against two fluffy pillows, and gave her a firm look.
“I may allow you up long enough to use the chamber pot, but you will stay in bed until this”—she slid Andi’s nightgown sleeve past her elbow—“is completely gone.”
Andi stared at the bumpy, red rash. “Will I be well enough by Christmas Eve to be in the pageant?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s next Wednesday, only six days from now.”
Andi opened her mouth to protest, but Mother shook her head.
“Your sore throat will disappear in a day or two, and the rash will be gone by Christmas, but you will still be too weak to go anywhere.”
“Please?” Andi whispered. Unwanted tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t miss the pageant!
“I’ll tie her down or sit on her if you need me to, Mother.” Mitch gave Andi the same look Mother had given her a minute ago. “We’ve seen for ourselves what happens when someone gets up too soon after being ill with this thing.”
Mother sat down on the bed and stroked Andi’s hair.
“It happened to one of our ranch hands many years ago,” she said. “He went back to work too soon and well, he got sicker, and that time he didn’t recover.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open.
“A Christmas pageant is not worth losing you, sweetheart,” Mother said. “You will stay in bed for at least another few days. Then we will see about letting you up to join the family for Christmas Day.”
“Yes, Mother.” Andi suddenly felt tired. Talking with her family had drained her. She slumped against the pillow and closed her eyes. “I’m sleepy.”
A few minutes later, she opened her eyes. Mitch and Mother had left the room. Andi rolled over and let her unshed tears trickle down her cheeks. There would be no Christmas pageant for her this year.
Maybe no Christmas either.
Chapter Five
Andi woke from an afternoon nap four days later to find Justin sitting in the chair next to her bed.
He smiled. “You look better every day.” He held out a plate of sugar cookies and a cup of steaming chocolate. “Luisa fixed you a Christmas treat. I wanted to talk to you, so I offered to bring it upstairs.”
Andi scooted up against the headboard. For the first time in the week since she’d fallen ill, she felt hungry.
“The cocoa is still warm,” Justin said.
Andi eagerly accepted the plate on her lap and bit into the crispy, sugary treat. Her mouth exploded in delight. When she swallowed the hot chocolate, her throat no longer burned.
“Mmm.” She sighed. “Tell Luisa thank you.”
“I will,” Justin said.
He helped himself to a cookie and leaned back in his chair. “I have some school news I thought you might like to hear,” he said, taking a bite.
Andi stopped chewing. There were only two more days until the pageant. “I don’t want to hear the news that Priscilla Johnson took my part as Mary.”
Justin chuckled. “I wouldn’t ruin your Christmas by telling you that, honey. Actually, I wanted to tell you that school is closed until after the Christmas holidays.”
Andi’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“Dr. Weaver ordered a quarantine because of the number of scarlet fever cases.”
Andi lost her appetite, even for sugary treats. She no longer felt sad because she couldn’t be Mary in the pageant. Now, none of the townsfolk would enjoy the schoolchildren’s retelling of the Christmas story.
“What about the pageant?” Andi sniffed back tears. “Our town’s Christmas is ruined.”
Justin took another cookie and smiled at Andi. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about our Christmas being ruined. I heard a rumor that the school’s yearly Christmas pageant has not been canceled—merely interrupted.”
Andi wrinkled her eyebrows. “Huh?”
“So long as no new cases of scarlet fever break out, Miss Hall hopes to present the pageant on New Year’s Eve. By then, you’ll be well enough to take up your role as Mary and—”
“Really?” Andi stifled a squeal. Mother would scold if she heard hollering from upstairs. She glanced around the room. “Where’s my Bible? I need to relearn my lines!”
*****
“My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.”
It was easy for Andi to put feeling into her words tonight. Her whole heart was praising God by the time she recited, “for He that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is His name.”
He had done mighty things for her. Playing Mary for half the town of Fresno was proof of God’s goodness.
There were no new cases of scarlet fever. The townsfolk packed themselves into the community hall.
The angels sang sweetly, only muffing their lines once. Johnny Wilson told the Wise Men to find the baby king and report back. Only one shepherd boy tripped when the ragged group bowed down before the sleeping infant in Mary’s arms.
Andi didn’t have to work very hard to look blessed and serene during the final manger scene. She felt utterly worn out from the evening’s excitement. She clutched baby Richard and hoped she didn’t fall over with him into the feedbox.
When she swayed, Cory wrapped his arm around her. The crowd murmured their approval of Joseph’s care for Mary.
Andi prayed that the last song, “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” would end soon.
A bleating from one of the lambs on loan from a local sheepherder rose above the singing. Baa, baa!
A second lamb joined its brother. A small calf bawled and stretched its neck against the rope that tied it to the backdrop.
Moooo!
The scenery wobbled. Andi hugged the baby a little bit tighter. Would the background stay put?
The choir of angels and shepherds finished their song.
Reverend Harris offered up a short prayer and dismissed the crowd. He clearly did not want to keep praying until the calf brought down the house.
The applause thundered, waking the baby. Richard howled his unhappiness. Mrs. Samuelson rescued her son, thanked Andi, and moved off.
There was food and drink and fellowship in the large hall, enough to bring in the New Year with a bang.
Very soon, a New Year’s ball would be in full swing at the Fresno House, the big hotel down the street. Rumors flew that fireworks would light up the sky at midnight.
Andi slumped against a bale of hay and closed her eyes. Not for me. She dozed off.
Chad’s hand shaking her shoulder woke Andi with a start. “You did good, little sister. A more blessed and serene Mary I’ve never seen.” He chuckled. “And I know the reason why.”
“So do I,” Andi murmured drowsily.
Chad hauled her to her feet then swung her up in his arms. “You’re done in. Let’s find the rest of the family and head home.”
Andi nodded. She was too tired to reply. But she was not too tired to smile to herself. It had been a close call, but her Christmas had not been canceled after all.
Merely interrupted.
Keep reading to learn more about Andi’s adventures on the Circle C ranch in the Old West.
Circle C Series
Circle C Beginnings – Meet spunky, six-year-old Andi Carter, who is eager to grow up and experience the Wild West in 1874. Exploring the Circle C ranch with her friend Riley, meeting Indians, and a visit to the state fair are a few of Andi’s adventures. Ages 6-9
Circle C Stepping Stones – Andi is nine years old, and her filly Taffy is three, the perfect age for them to finally become a horse-and-rider pair. Join Andi’s adventures on the Circle C ranch with her family and friends in 1877 California. Ages 7-10
Circle C Adventures – Living on the Circle C ranch in 1880 is a dream come true for twelve-year-old Andrea “Andi” Carter. Follow her latest escapades as she stumbles in and out of trouble and learns life lessons from her strong and loving ranching family. Ages 9-13
Circle C Milestones – Andrea Carter is back in this series for older readers. More exciting adventures with an older, teen Andi, on the Circle C ranch in 1880s California. Will she finally realize her dream of helping run the ranch, or does God have other plans for this spunky young woman? Ages 11 and up.
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