A white Christmas on the prairie seemed a sure thing. And in the evening the vast horizon glittered as if there were clusters of diamonds we could skim from the snow's surface. The moon and stars reflected from the snow so we could see almost as good as day.

With Mr. Greeley to feed the livestock Jake was left with time on his hands, but I didn't mind. He liked to whittle with wood to pass the time, as we often sat with my son in a circle warmed by a glowing fire. He'd even whittled a miniature replica of the manger scene along with a baby Jesus. I took the time to knit some stocking to hang over the fireplace. That night he looked at me and I could almost hear his mind churning like a wheelhouse grinding.

I woke next morning to a gentle snow falling with edge of frost on the window of my bedroom. But when I swiped my hand across the sheet to feel the warm, firm skin of my husband, he wasn't there.

I jumped from bed, but it was too late. I threw my bathrobe on and dashed across the hard, cold floor in my bare feet. I could see where Skye had made coffee. Two empty cups sat at the table. "Skye, tell me Jake didn't hike out alone?"

Skye showed no concern. "Mr. Greeley and Jake went north toward the Dakotas to fetch a Christmas tree."

"But what if my husband has a spell? What If he passes out in the snow? How's Mr. Greeley going to take care of him?" I feared another seizure could come without warning.

"Have a little faith, Jane. You were the one that told me all we need is faith the size of a mustard seed."

"Did I fail to tell you common sense and faith do best hand and hand?"

Skye smiled and handed me a steaming cup of coffee. As I breathed it in, it cleared my head. Skye breathed a sigh. "No disrespect Ma'am. But sometimes we need spoonful of our own medicine."

It was then I knew Skye's faith exceeded the rest of us on the homestead. I was willing to let it rest.

Little Josh came running up to me with his matted hair, and tried the sleep from his eyes. I picked him up and held him on my hip. "My, boy. You are almost to heavy lift. Why you are heavier than a sack of corn?"

I noted Sky had plucked the feathers of our goose named Molly, and had the bird set to boil. I regretted the day we named her. And I was glad I didn't have to put the axe to her neck. All the same, it would make for a nice Christmas dinner.

I must have thanked Skye more times than I could count. "You must know by now, you're more than a friend, but you are more a sister to me I never had."

"And that's why I speak my mind. Isn't that what siblings do?"

"I reckon so. I don't ever want to lose you. But should you have a family of your own one day, I will be sure to dote over your children."

She hugged me. "Don't fret none about your husband. He's much stronger these days. Harmless flakes fall, and we will have a blessed Christmas."

I hadn't said anymore to Skye, but I reserved some worry over the men making it back before nightfall.

As the day wore on, I watched the rim of the sun fade away in the west. I pinned my hopes to the north and prayed in my rocker where I strained to see across the open prairie in the fading light. Skye stoked the fire. My son fell asleep on our rug, playing with cowboy and Indian men, Jake had whittled from wood.

As the night crawled along, Skye placed a shawl over my shoulder. My eyes fell like lead curtains and I dozed.

A rap on the door rattled my senses. It took my breadth. I wasn't sure who it was. I feared the worst. I reached for my double-barreled shotgun.

Skye slid the bar from the door. When she opened it, thick flakes fluttered in the brush of cold air. But no one stood before us unless it were a ghost. I held the shotgun up from my chair, but my son strode between me and the door. I yelled. "who's out there?


"Merry Christmas!" Jake roared and stood before me with a perfectly plum pine tree for decorations.

"I swear you have a death wish! I near put a hole in you."

Josh leaped into his arms. "Pappa!"

Mr. Greeley stepped inside along with Jake, doing the jig to shake the snow off. Jake set the boy down and then lifted me off my feet and gave me a wet bear hug.

After Jake set me down and let me breathe, I spoke. "Hang your coats on a nail and warm yourselves by the fire."

"Do you mind if I invite some guests?" asked Jake with sheepish grin.

"For Lands Sake, you mean for Christmas?"

Jake opened the door again before Skye could bolt it shut. Standing in the doorway, was Redhawk and Joseph.

I was speechless. Redhawk unloaded beaver pelts that were slung over his shoulder. "I brought Joseph with me. His grandfather passed away. He's agreed to live with me on the ranch."

I took turns giving them each a hug as they stepped inside from the sharp cold. "Merry Christmas and make yourselves at home."

I introduced Joseph to Skye and watched Redhawk take interest in Skye with his eyes.
That night the men told stories about how they followed the glow of the evening sky from the north star to the milky way, like a painted sky of trinkets leading them home where they presented gifts of fur.

When Josh was sound asleep, the men unfurled blankets on the floor and settled in our cabin for the night. When Jake and I retired behind our door, he slipped my Christmas gift into my hand, a necklace made of gold. "Merry Christmas, he said."

"Where did you find this nugget?"

In the darkness of our room he pressed me against the door and put his finger to my mouth.

I put the palm of my hand to his forehead. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Just making sure you don't have gold fever." I secretly worried it was found on sacred land. But I never told him.

"The only fever I got is for you," said Jake.