Christmas in Heaven by SandySha
Christmas in Heaven by SandySha
The story photo is from the Santa Lucia Preserve,
where it snowed on December 21, 2022
Thanks to Doc (Terri Derr) for her unending patience and help with the beta
Scott sat at the desk in his room, pen in hand, poised over the journal he’d started when he left Boston. Each night for the last ten months, when he could, he’d jot down the events of his day – his thoughts and feelings. It was all here, from when he boarded the train in Boston to his arrival at the ranch weeks later. His emotions at finding a father he thought didn’t want him, to discovering a brother he didn’t know he had. The ups, the downs, the good, and the bad…it was all recorded in his leather-bound journal.
It had been a busy month, and tonight was the first time he’d had a moment to himself. He dipped the pen tip in the ink well and took a breath… where to start?
December 24, 1870
It is Christmas Eve, in a season of firsts. It is my first Christmas away from Boston since returning from the war, and the first with a family I never dreamed of having.
I received three letters from my grandfather this month… a record number. In all of them, he insists I return ‘home.’ If he could only see Lancer and realize how happy I am here. Perhaps I can convince him to make the trip to California next year. I love my grandfather, but the feelings I have for this place — my father and brother…well, I know he’d understand my steadfast resolve to stay.
December has flown by, and I haven’t had time to sit down and record all that has happened. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, and I must say I have a feeling of euphoria…a joy I’ve never felt before.
We started the month with Teresa’s seventeenth birthday party on the 1st. She wore her lavender dress with a matching bow in her hair. She looked just as beautiful as she did all those months ago when Joe Barker was here. I had no heart to tell her the dress brought back a few unpleasant memories.
Our little lady received gifts from everyone, including Maria, Cipriano, and the ranch hands. I gave her a writing journal, much like the one I use. I told her it was time she started recording her own memories and adventures. Murdoch presented her with a new bonnet, picked out by Aggie Conway, I’m sure. What delighted Teresa the most was the palomino filly Johnny gave her. It was hard keeping that one a secret. He spent hours working with the horse so that by the time he gifted it to Teresa, even a child could ride her. It was a sight to see when Johnny and Teresa rode across the range together. Teresa was laughing so loud you could hear her all the way back to the hacienda.
.
My birthday on the 19th was met by yours truly with some apprehension. It was, after all, my twenty-fifth and the first at Lancer. I really didn’t know what to expect. As it turned out, it was the happiest birthday I can remember and a day I shall never forget.
Murdoch’s gift was a book called A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. The illustrations are magnificent, and he and I have spent hours looking at them together. His stories of his homeland have added to the gift. I believe that has been the best part of the present …spending precious time with my father.
Teresa’s gift was a new shirt, a blue one. She said she was tired of my brown and beige shirts and thought it was time I wore something that brought out the color of my eyes. I must admit I love the shirt and the color.
Johnny gave me an expertly hand-woven set of braided reins for my horse. After dinner, he and I went to town for a private celebration in the saloon.
I couldn’t have asked for a better day.
.
Johnny’s twenty-first birthday came four days after mine on the 23rd. My little brother has finally met his majority. When I laughingly mentioned the same to him, he firmly stated he’d met his ‘majority’ years ago– he was just now getting around to matching it with his age.
This was the first birthday at Lancer he could remember. However, Murdoch regaled us with the exploits of the two-year-old Johnny while we celebrated. Johnny’s objections and blushing face made the tales all the more special.
Murdoch’s gift was a new saddle with the Lancer ‘L’ burned into the leather. Teresa had a green shirt for him and a chocolate birthday cake. Maria presented him with a blue flowered shirt. We’ll see which he likes the best. At least he’ll have something to wear besides red.
As for me, it was hard to find a present for a man who wants nothing. I finally decided on something he didn’t have…a book of his own. After searching several bookstores in Sacramento, I finally found the perfect one – an illustrated book on horses. The smile on his face was worth the effort of obtaining the book.
Of course, we went to town after dinner, where he insisted, and I wholeheartedly agreed, we visit the bordello instead of the saloon.
In only a few days, it will be Murdoch’s birthday on the 28th. Deciding on Christmas gifts wasn’t easy with everyone’s birthday in December.
The days leading up to this first Christmas at Lancer have been full of excitement and expectation for everyone.
As I said, it is a season of firsts. There is no doubt from the smile that never leaves our father’s face that he enjoys having his entire family together for this first Christmas as much as we enjoy being here.
.
Setting the pen down, Scott smiled. It felt good getting it all down on paper. The ritual of writing in his journal had become a cleansing, a release of all things bothering him.
He leaned forward and looked out the window. Seeing movement near the corral, he shook his head. He didn’t have to guess who it was.
He’d written that the days leading up to Christmas were full of excitement and expectation for everyone, but that wasn’t true. Although Johnny smiled when he was supposed to smile and laughed on cue, there was no mistaking he was holding back and hesitant to join the festivities.
Thye’d all noticed, but only Teresa had questioned it. With Teresa’s enthusiasm for the holidays, she’d seen the signs early on in the month. When she’d gone to Murdoch, he’d told her to give Johnny time, that he was sure the boy wasn’t used to the customs and maybe felt overwhelmed.
Scott had let it slide until now. He could tell his brother was troubled. Determined to find out what was wrong, he headed downstairs.
When he stepped into the Great room, he noted Murdoch sitting in front of the fire.
Murdoch laid the book he was reading in his lap and lowered his glasses. “Scott? I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I thought I’d get a breath of fresh air.”
Murdoch glanced towards the French doors and smiled. “I think that is an excellent idea. Perhaps near the barn…”
Scott returned the smile. “Or the corral.”
Murdoch nodded. “You might want to take your heavy coat. It’s cold out there.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, and Scott…,” Murdoch put his glasses on and raised his book, “let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”
“Yes, Sir.”
******
Scott reached for his coat, and his hand stopped. Not only was his jacket there, but also Johnny’s. He slipped his coat on and opened the door to be met by a gust of wind that chilled him to the bone. Shivering, he raised the collar around his neck and stepped into the night.
“What is that boy thinking? It’s freezing out here.”
Walking across the yard to the corral, Scott could see Johnny leaning on the top rail, staring at a star-studded night sky.
“Johnny.” As he said the name, Scott’s breath turned to a fleeting, misty cloud.
Johnny didn’t turn to look at him. “Pretty out here, ain’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” Scott stopped next to his brother. “But, it’s freezing, and you forgot your jacket.”
Johnny glanced sideways and laughed. “Yeah, guess I did.” He took the offered coat and shrugged into it. “Thanks. That feels good.”
Scott rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them. “You were quiet at dinner.”
Johnny crossed his arms over the top rail of the corral and laid his chin on them but didn’t say a word.
“Is there anything wrong?”
“No.” Johnny shook his head and sighed. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing’s wrong.” Scott leaned against the corral so that his arm was touching his brother’s arm. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know. It’s just…” There was another sigh.
Scott waited. He knew Johnny would talk when he was ready.
“You ever wonder about heaven?”
“Heaven?” That was the last thing he’d expected. “Uh…not recently. Why?”
Johnny looked up at the stars. “I spent most of my Christmases sitting in saloons. Even before Mama died, that’s where we’d end up. After…well, after she died and I was on my own, I found work sweeping floors, cleaning out stalls, and anything I could get to make a few pesos to buy food.”
Johnny looked out over the ranch and sighed. “I never had a real Christmas, not one I can remember anyway. The closest I’ve ever come was when I was ten before Mama died. We were happy…that one night, at least. After that, there were no good memories, no presents, and no one who cared about me.
“On Christmas Eve, I’d sneak into the back of whatever mission was in town and listen to the Midnight Mass. They always talked about heaven with gates made of pearls and how we all had mansions waiting for us, how all the streets were paved in gold, as transparent as glass, and that there was plenty of food and no one went without.
“After the Mass, I’d go back to where I was sleeping that night and eat the food I bought. Then I’d go to sleep, dreaming of how nice it must be in heaven.
“Later, after I started hiring my gun, I always ended up in the saloon with all the others who didn’t have any place to go. It didn’t matter where I was; all the saloons were alike. A Priest told me once we were lost souls, and I guess I…we were. I stopped thinking about heaven. Figured I’d be dead soon enough and it wasn’t heaven I was headed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I made out alright. Besides, there’s no changing the past.”
“When you were older, did you ever go to Midnight Mass?”
“No. After the things I’ve done, the men I’ve.…” he shook his head. “No, Scott. I didn’t think I’d be welcome in church after I started hiring out.” He looked at Scott’s downturned head. “Didn’t mean to ruin the night for you.”
“You haven’t,” Scott smiled. “I remember when I was a boy, I thought there couldn’t be a more beautiful place than Boston at Christmas. Everything was decorated in red, white, and green, and snow was everywhere.
“Every Sunday, Grandfather would take me to church. I learned about the mansions and the streets of gold, and when Christmas came, I would imagine my mother in heaven walking streets covered in snow.”
“Wouldn’t it be something if your Mama and mine were up there living in one of those mansions together and walking the streets of gold?”
“Yes, it would,” Scott paused long enough for Johnny to notice.
“What?”
“If you could have anything you want for Christmas, what would it be?”
Johnny turned away, hiding his face. When he turned back and answered, there was a catch in his voice. “You know where I was this time last year?”
Scott knew Johnny didn’t expect an answer.
“Dios, Scott, I never thought I’d live this long. Sure wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the old man pulling me out of the game. This time last year, I was in a Mexican prison, staring death in the face. I did a lot of thinking about heaven, wondering what it would be like and if I’d even be up there. I even wondered what Christmas in heaven would be like.
“When you came out here, I was looking at the stars and thinking how lucky I was. I’ve got people who care about me now…a father, a sister, and…” He put an arm around Scott’s shoulders. “A brother. No, Scott, I have everything I want. I couldn’t ask for anything else.”
“I feel the same way.”
“What about snow? You miss it?”
Scott laughed. “Snow would have been nice, but I wouldn’t trade what we have here for it.”
Johnny pulled Scott close. “What do you say we go inside and warm up?”
“I think I’ll head up to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah, but I have something I need to do tonight.”
“What?”
“You go on up. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
******
It was almost nine o’clock when Scott heard noises outside in the yard. Going to the window, he saw a parade of lantern-lit carriages and riders moving down the road and under the arch. The Mexican vaqueros and Catholic ranch hands and their families were heading to Morro Coyo for Midnight Mass, while others had set off to church in Green River.
Scott started to go back to bed when a light-colored horse caught his eye. He opened the window and leaned out. He realized Johnny was in the long line of those heading for the mission.
Smiling, Scott closed the window. So, that’s what Johnny had to do tonight. In the months he’d known his brother, Johnny had never attended church with the rest of the family. The few times Murdoch had asked Johnny to go with them, the boy had flatly refused.
Scott hadn’t given it much thought, but after their conversation tonight, he understood or thought he did. To Johnny’s way of thinking, the things he’d done in his life were unforgivable and the reason he believed he wouldn’t be welcome in church. Yet, a few minutes earlier, he’d watched Johnny ride out with the others going to Midnight Mass in Morro Coyo.
Scott knew he should go to bed but wondered if he should wait up for his brother. After somei consideration, he decided to go back downstairs.
Walking into the Great room, Scott heard Murdoch snoring before seeing him. The older man was in his chair in front of the fire. His chin rested on his chest. The book he’d been reading lay open in his lap, and his glasses had slid to the end of his nose.
Knowing Murdoch’s neck would be hurting him in the morning, Scott gently shook his father’s shoulder. “Murdoch.”
The gray head snapped up, and his glasses tumbled into his lap. He cleared his throat, “Scott…”
“I didn’t want to wake you, sir, but if you stay here, your neck will be broken by morning.”
Murdoch pushed himself up in the chair and stretched. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
Murdoch closed the book and laid it on the table beside his chair. Removing his glasses, he looked around the room. “Has your brother gone to bed?”
Scott shook his head. “No. I saw him riding out with the others going to Morro Coyo.”
“Midnight Mass?”
Scott nodded. “It looks like it. Did you know he hasn’t been to church since he was a child?”
“I suspected as much. I haven’t pushed him into going with us on Sundays.”
“Well, Murdoch, it wouldn’t have done you any good, and I suspect you would have had a fight on your hands.”
“So, why tonight?”
“It’s Christmas, Sir. The season for miracles. Don’t question it; just accept it.”
Murdoch laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Should we wait up for him?”
Murdoch shook his head. “No. He won’t be home for hours. Mass lasts an hour to an hour and a half. They will have food afterward. If he stays for that, he won’t be home until close to four.”
“In that case, I’ll call it a night.”
“I’m coming too. Let me bank the fire and lower the lights.” Murdoch stood and walked around the room, lowering the flames on the lamps. “Good night, Son.”
“Good night, Murdoch.”
******
Scott woke, shivering. He lifted his head, peering through half-closed eyes; he could see it was still dark outside. Pulling the heavy quilt on his bed under his chin, he snuggled back into its warmth. It was Christmas morning, and there was no work today. He decided he could catch a few more hours of sleep. He’d just dropped off when he heard shouting in the hall.
“Wake up, everyone! Wake up!”
Scott jumped out of bed, cursing under his breath, when his feet hit the cold floor. He was reaching for his robe when the door to his room flew open.
“Scott…Scott! Hurry…”
“What’s wrong—?” Scott barely had the words out when Johnny sprinted away.
Down the hall, he heard Murdoch’s door being opened.
“Murdoch, get up….everyone get up…..Teresa….!”
When Scott reached the hall, he saw Johnny turn the corner, heading for the stairs.
Murdoch stepped out of his room, shaking his head. “What’s he shouting about?”
“I don’t know. He’s gone downstairs.”
Teresa stepped out of her room. “Was that Johnny shouting?”
“Yes, dear. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but we’d better go down and see.” Murdoch tied the belt of his robe around him and struggled into his slippers.
Scott wiped the sleep from his eyes and started down the hall. “What time is?”
“A little after five,” Teresa answered with a yawn.
Moving down the staircase, they were met with a burst of cold air.
“He’s got the French Doors open,” Murdoch growled. “John, close the door!”
Johnny ran from outside and waved. “Come on, you’ve gotta come see!”
Scott edged by Murdoch and Teresa. “This better be good.”
Stepping out the doors, he stopped. Standing under the protection of the portico, he watched Johnny spinning around with his arms up, his smiling face raised to the heavens, as snowflakes fell.
“You see this?” Johnny laughed. “Scott, it looks like you got your snow.”
Scott turned and looked at his father. “Murdoch, I thought you said it never snowed in the San Joaquin.”
Murdoch laughed, “Scott, I’ve been here for twenty-seven years. We’ve had flurries a time or two, but never has it snowed enough to stick to the ground. This is extraordinary.”
Teresa ran out to stand next to Johnny, holding her palm up to catch the flakes. “Oh, it’s beautiful. I’ve never had a white Christmas. It’s a miracle, a Christmas miracle.”
Murdoch shook his head. “Both of you come inside before you catch your death.”
Teresa ran inside, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll get dressed and start breakfast.”
“Johnny?”
“I’ll be right there. You go ahead.”
Murdoch followed Teresa inside and closed the door, leaving the brothers outside.
“Well…” Johnny smiled and held up his arms. “What do you think?”
“It’s amazing. But you want me to believe you caused it to snow?”
The sun was rising behind dark snow clouds. A shaft of light broke through, reflecting off the hacienda’s snow-covered roof.
Johnny grinned. “Naw, but I’m glad you got your snow. Didn’t you say it would make things just about perfect?”
“I did.” They turned to look at the house. “What more could I want? And what about you?”
“I went to church last night for the first time in a lot of years. The Priest spoke of the mansions and streets of gold. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to imagine what it was like in heaven. I already knew.
“To me, this…,” he waved his arms towards the hacienda, “is heaven. The arch out front is as good as those gates made of pearls; that house is my mansion, and those roads leading into it … those roads might as well be paved in gold.”
“I couldn’t agree more. This is better than anything I could have imagined.”
“And now, you know what heaven looks like in the snow.”
“And we both know what Christmas in heaven is like.” Scott put an arm around Johnny’s shoulder. “Let’s get inside and clean up. We still have presents to open.”
******
Scott went back to his room to dress and shave. As he started to leave, he saw his journal on the desk and knew he had to make a quick entry.
.
December 25, 1870
“I woke this morning to the one thing I was missing for Christmas. Snow.
Murdoch said in all the time he’d been in the valley, it had never snowed enough to stick. Yet, the view from my window proves it does snow in the San Joaquin Valley. Teresa called it a miracle, and perhaps it is.
Last night, Johnny asked me what Christmas in heaven would be like. I didn’t know how to reply, but he found the answer. To him, Lancer is as close to heaven as he’s ever been.
I firmly believe Christmas is a time of forgiveness, even if it is only yourself you’re forgiving. My brother has proven that and has found his heaven on earth. I wholeheartedly agree, and believe I’ve found it also.
Another first in a season of so many firsts, a Christmas in heaven.”
Thanks to the Santa Lucia Preserve
End
December 2023
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