MacKinnon’s Rangers 03.5 - Upon A Winter's Night by Pamela Clare Read Free Book Online

certain she is well, my lord." Cooke handed him another cup of water. "Knowing you would wish to know their business, I made some inquiries. It seems they have a dispute with Haviland , my lord, and need your help."

    CHAPTER 5

    Amalie reached out and tied the string she’d bound to the end of the pine garland to the nail Joseph had driven into the wall, hoping it would be strong enough to hold the garland in place. "What do you think?"

    Joseph reached up, caught her about the waist, and lowered her to the floor from the chair she’d been standing on, a grin tugging at his lips. "I think it is strange to hang branches from trees inside your home when there is a forest outside your door. If you wish to see trees, why not go outside?"

    Amalie couldn’t help but smile. "It is a way of celebrating the season. And the scent of pine — is it not sweet?"

    She sniffed the air, loving the freshness.

    He grinned. "You can smell pine even better if you go into the forest."

    "It is far too cold to spend our days out of doors."

    Joseph chuckled, putting the chair back in its place at the table.

    She turned slowly, taking in the sight of the sitting room, only the discord between her and Morgan marring the moment. " Bien! "

    She, Annie, and Sarah had thrown themselves into preparing for Christmas, first decorating Iain and Annie’s house and then Morgan and Amalie’s. This Christmas would be a happy one, even if their men should find themselves unable to return from Albany in time. The three of them had discussed it at length and had decided that from now on Christmas at the MacKinnon farm would blend together all of their traditions — Catholic and Protestant, Scottish, English, and French.

    Pine garlands hung around the doors and windows and above the hearth as had been the custom for Annie’s and Sarah’s families. Advent candles sat in the center of each family’s table, surrounded by wreaths of holly that Sarah had made. Slender tapers of precious beeswax sat in brass holders in the windowsills as they had at the abbey when Amalie was a child.

    On Christmas Eve, they would light those candles as a sign of welcome to weary travelers, and they would leave a meal on the table of each cabin. There would be no Mass on Christmas Day, for there was no church or priest, but they would pray together and then feast — roasted turkey and venison with gravy, potatoes, corn bread, and pickled vegetables, with Annie’s shortbread, sugared plums, and apple pies for dessert.

    This blending of traditions might not have entirely pleased the mère supérieure , but it brought them all together like the family they had become, starting new traditions that they would pass to their children.

    At that thought, Amalie glanced toward the bedroom, where the twins, Lachlan and Connor Joseph, slept, and found herself smiling. Her sons would grow up with something she’d never had — a family, a sense of home.

    A thud came from upstairs, followed by Annie and Sarah’s muffled laughter — and a groan from Killy , who had been helping them hang pine garlands.

    Joseph called up to them. "Are you all right, old woman?"

    " Killy is well," Annie answered, clearly fighting not to laugh. "He stood too near the edge and…fell off the chair."

    "I’d best help him before he breaks his neck." A grin on his face, Joseph started up the stairs.

    From outside came a man’s voice. "Hallo in the house!"

    This was followed by a low bellowing noise.

    In a little more than a heartbeat, Killy and Joseph stood together by the front door, muskets in hand.

    Joseph looked out the window, his brow bending in a surprised frown. "I see a man with a wagon."

    Amalie peeked outside. A man stood holding the reins of two enormous black draft horses, their traces tied to a farm wagon. "It is Farmer Fairley."

    "Oh!"

    Amalie turned to find Sarah standing beside Annie at the bottom of the stairs, a shocked expression on her face. Her newborn in her arms, she