Summary:  An AU/ WHI Christmas based on Forever.

Rating:  G   2,690 words

 

Antique Tile

Antique Tile

Joe stood at the window, watching the snow fall. His thoughts turned to a similar scene a year ago. Last Christmas Eve, he had anxiously waited while Alice gave birth to their twin sons. He had never thought of himself as a religious man, but an incident early in her pregnancy changed that. He and Pa agreed it had been Providence that Alice had survived after that gang of cut throats had threatened her due to her brother John’s gambling debts. Only due to the quick thinking of one of the gang members, an undercover U.S. Marshal, the pregnant Alice had lived. Sadly, neither their house nor John had survived. Before the gang members were stopped, they’d set fire to the house and murdered John. It wasn’t until the night the babies were born that they’d learned the undercover marshal was Joe’s long-absent oldest brother, Adam. Joe smiled as he remembered the stunned look on Adam’s face when he told him that the newest Cartwrights were named Eric Adam and Benjamin Adam because he had saved both their lives.

Since then, Adam had been on administrative leave. Officially, it was to clear up the paperwork and for his superiors to offer him another position. Unofficially, it was to prevent Adam from resigning. While his head understood his superiors’ decision not to tell him of Hoss’s death or Joe’s marriage over concerns that knowledge could jeopardize his cover, his heart said something different. He’d confessed to Joe that action had seriously damaged Adam’s trust in the men. And he hadn’t yet forgiven them—or himself—for not being home immediately after Hoss had passed.

Joe’s gaze moved indoors to the Christmas tree. It felt good that the three brothers were able to choose and cut it together this year. His thoughts turned to each of the ornaments on the tree. The ones each of their mothers had added, and the ones added since Mama’s death. Jamie had even contributed a hand-crocheted angel his mother had made.

*****

December was always Hoss and Joe’s favorite month. As a child, Joe would get excited about presents, while Hoss always reminded him gently of the real meaning of Christmas and that giving was more important than receiving. He smiled inwardly as he remembered just how long it had taken him to learn that lesson.

Joe’s thoughts turned to how deeply losing Hoss had affected his oldest brother. Adam was coming to grips with it by designing and building a new house for Joe and Alice. Jamie had been interested in the process, and Adam included him in every step. They were bonding as brothers while working together; first on the plans at the dining room table in the ranch house and, more recently, at the work site.

While Joe was forever grateful that Alice and the babies had survived the fire, a small part of him still mourned the loss of the quilt Alice had been repairing. She had been replacing its well-worn binding and several blocks, due to wear and stains. The quilt had been his mother’s last gift to him. He vaguely remembered her finishing it shortly before her death.

It had smelled of his Mama. He smiled inwardly remembering when Adam was in college, Joe had been confused as to why its scent seemed to increase, not decrease. That is, until he’d caught Hoss coming out of Joe’s room with an atomizer. First Adam and later Hoss had spritzed the quilt with his Mama’s favorite scent. Hoss wasn’t quite as adept as Adam at giving a light spritz to the quilt.

Joe remembered the first Christmas after Mama’s death. He missed her terribly, and Pa was busy with the ranch. Just as Adam had immediately after her death, he again stepped in to fill in as surrogate father for both Hoss and Joe. It was Adam who had pulled from the storage chest the quilt his Mama had made. And he’d bundled his youngest brother in it. With Hoss on one side and Adam on the other on his Mama’s settee, Little Joe had felt loved and comforted. Through the years, the quilt had gotten quite a workout. Joe had often wrapped himself in it during those long nights when he missed her the most, and anytime he was sick.

The pattern was one each woman in Mama’s family had made for the next generation. The quilt made by his grandmother had been the only keepsake Mama had from her own mother. It had been cruelly destroyed by her former mother-in-law. So the quilt she’d made for Joe had been the last in a long line of family heirlooms, and made its loss even harder.

She had shared its history with his older brothers and Pa. After her death, it became one of Joe’s favorite stories. He loved to hear it over and over. Each one told it slightly differently. What he would give to hear Hoss’s version just once more!

He remembered the Christmas Eve when he was ten and getting over a bad cold. That afternoon Adam was away in college, Pa was in town and Hop Sing was busy in the kitchen…

***

The door opened as Hoss entered the house. Joe had heard him on the porch stomping the snow off his boots and clothes before coming inside. As he took off his coat and hat, Joe immediately cornered him.

“Hoss, tell me the story of Mama’s quilt.”

“Ah, Joe. I just got in from the cold. Let me warm up and get somethin’ to eat before ya start demandin’ stuff.”

“I’m sorry. I just missed ya. I’m alone here, and…”

“Joe, you’re not alone. Hop Sing is here.”

“It’s not the same. Please?”

Just then Hop Sing came out with a plate of cookies and hot chocolate for the boys. They thanked him before Hoss took a cookie and sat next to Joe on the settee.

“You’ve heard that story so much. Maybe you’d like another one?”

It was a long-standing joke between the brothers. Joe would ask for the story. Hoss would try to talk him out of it before he’d finally agree.

Pouting a little, Joe answered quickly. “Nah. I want to hear the quilt story.”

After a deep, long-suffering sigh, Hoss launched into his tale. “Well, it all started a couple o’ hundred years ago when Mama’s people left their homes in France. They came to the New World, and settled in a part of Canada called Nova Scotia.” He paused to sip his drink.

Joe interrupted. “You forgot to say why they left France.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m comin’ to that.” Hoss glared at his younger brother before continuing. “Her people left France ‘cause the king there was always gettin’ his people inta wars with England, and they just wanted to live in peace. So, they came to their new homes. They lived in swamps and such, making homes from land nobody else wanted. They was poor as church mice, but happy.”

“Why are church mice poor?”

“I don’t know, Shortshanks.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you ask Pa or Adam next time they tell this story?”

Joe nodded in agreement, intent on Hoss continuing his tale.

“Any how, they were livin’ alone by themselves, minding their own business. After many years, England took over that part of Canada from France. It was part of a treaty to end some war or the other. By this time Mama’s people were called Acadians. They agreed to support the King of England and agreed to not fight anyone.

“Everything went along fine for about fifty years. Then some English general who was full of himself decided to demand the Acadians swear to support the king and to give up their churches. They were Roman Catholic and the English were Protestant. Mama’s people refused, and the general decided to burn them out and throw them off their lands. Only, he didn’t tell the king or government what he was doing and didn’t have permission to do that.”

“Did they punish him?”

“I don’t know. Iffen you keep interrupting, I won’t finish the story before supper.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Hoss smiled and winked. “I know. Anyway, when they still refused to do what he wanted, he decided to boot them out of Canada. He burned their homes and farms, and they fled for their lives. The only thing your great-great-something grandma saved was the quilt she’d made. As far back as anyone could remember, the mamas in her family had taught the daughters how to make that quilt. It was considered good luck and was always part of the gals’ dowries.

“She took it with her when she married. She and her husband got on a ship with some of their neighbors and headed for Louisiana. It was owned by Spain and later France; both were also Roman Catholic. So, at least they could worship the way they wanted. And once President Jefferson bought the Louisiana Territory, they still could. ‘Cause the United States Constitution says so.” Hoss paused, taking another cookie before nodding to emphasize that point.

“So once again, they’d built homes on swamps and such ‘cause nobody else wanted that land. Ever since then, the women in Mama’s family made that same quilt pattern for their children. It’s her family’s quilt pattern, and now it’s yours, too. Mama planned to make one for each of us, but you know she had that bad accident and didn’t make it.”

“Yeah. Adam called it a tragedy. What’s that?”

Hoss sighed before answering. “That’s when somethin’ really bad happens to someone who’s good. Tragic stories and plays have unhappy endings.”

“Why would a story have an unhappy ending?”

“I’ve never understood that.”

“Oh.”

“You know the rest of the story.”

“Why was my quilt in Adam’s trunk?”

“I don’t know.”

Just then, Ben walked in and took off his hat, coat and gun.

“Pa, do you know why my quilt was in Adam’s trunk?”

“When?”

“After Mama, you know, fell off her horse, and um…”

“Oh. Yes, I remember.” He crossed the room and sat in his chair next to the fireplace before continuing. “She made that quilt and gave it to Adam, her eldest son. She had planned to make one for each of you, but never had the chance.”

“Adam gave me his quilt?”

“He did.”

“Why?”

Ben smiled. “He said you needed it more than he did.”

***

Afterwards, every time Joe used the quilt he felt wrapped in both Mama and Adam’s love and protection. He realized he’d never told his oldest brother that. Perhaps he should, he mused. Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the snow had stopped until he saw Adam and Jamie ride up to the barn. Before Joe could blink, Griff and Jamie were taking the horses into the barn to care for them. Joe smiled, remembering the initial wariness Griff had held when meeting a U.S. Marshal. It didn’t take Adam long to put the younger man at ease, and the two quickly formed a friendship. It meant the world to the ex-con that Adam trusted him with the care of his beloved Sport. As Joe watched, his oldest brother strode to the house.

Joe turned as the front door opened and greeted his brother. “You made it back for lunch!”

“Yup,” was Adam’s brief reply as he divested himself of his outerwear and gun.

Not being able to stand the suspense, Joe broke the silence. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. We finished the water closet.”

“So, we can finally see this masterpiece you’ve kept secret?”

“We wanted to surprise you and Alice for Christmas.”

“I know; I’m just teasing.”

Adam winked, “I know.”

“Do we have to wait until Christmas Day to see the finished work?”

“No. Any time is fine. Although, I would like both you and Alice to see it together.”

“After lunch if the snow has stopped?”

“Sure.”

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen with hot coffee for both men.

During lunch it was decided that Alice and Joe would accompany Adam and Jamie to inspect the house while Hop Sing and Ben took care of the twins who were napping.

***

All four of them entered the house together. Jamie was silent, standing back and watching with interest and delight Joe and Alice’s reactions.

The couple walked hand-in-hand through the house. While they knew Adam had planned innovations like pocket doors and various safety features to help keep the twins out of trouble, seeing them in the house was quite different than trying to envision them from a set of plans. The mud room off the kitchen had a large laundry tub that was elevated so the person doing the wash didn’t have to kneel. Adam suggested the tub might also be an option for bathing the twins.

As Alice opened the door to the water closet, she gasped in surprise. Joe wordlessly supported her by putting his arm around her. He found himself speechless with awe at the workmanship. In addition to the sink and commode, there was a bathtub, large enough to stretch out in. Joe fleetingly thought it was even large enough for either two adults or one Hoss’s size. What held the couple’s attention though was the ceramic tile on the floor and halfway up the wall. They had discussed wainscoting, although they had assumed it would be wood, not ceramic.

“I decided that ceramic tile would be easier to clean. I saw something similar in a castle in Europe. And I remember the challenges of cleaning up after growing boys.”

Stunned, Alice turned around slowly. The tiny mosaic tiles on the walls were a repeating pattern of six tiles across and six tiles down.

antique_tile_repeat.png

Her voice breaking, she choked out the words. “Oh, Adam! This… this looks like something I’ve heard of in a palace. It’s above and beyond anything I could have imagined. Thank you seems so inadequate!”

His soothing voice replied, “Your thanks is more than enough. Right, Jamie?”

Jamie nodded enthusiastically.

Joe asked, “How long did it take you to figure this out?”

“Some of the time spent in those trips to San Francisco was learning how to do this. Honestly, I didn’t keep track. Jamie worked with me. Working together on this helped me to work through…” After a brief pause and deep breath, he choked out, “everything.”

Jamie clarified, “It helped both of us.”

Nodding sagely, Joe was uncharacteristically quiet. Alice stepped next to Adam and engulfed him in a hug. After a few moments, they broke apart. Adam looked away, blinking hard.

Softly touching the wall tile, Alice spoke. “It’s amazing, Adam! You did the wall tile in Marie’s quilt pattern.”

“Well, its name seemed appropriate. The mosaic tiles are reproductions of antiques. There is one tile intentionally out of place. In a quilt, according to Marie, a perfect quilt is bad luck.” With a wink, he continued. “I don’t know if it also applies to tiles placed in a quilt pattern and didn’t want to take any chances. Just don’t look too hard because there may be other places that aren’t perfect.”

Joe’s eyes glimmered with tears as he enveloped his older brother in a bear hug. “Thanks for giving me Mama’s quilt twice.” At Adam, Jame and Alice’s looks of confusion, he explained what he knew about his brother’s gift so long ago.

***

Christmas Day dawned bright and clear. Alice had made an antique tile quilt for their bed in colors similar to the quilt Marie had made. Later, she would continue the tradition by making one for each of their children. She helped Adam and Jamie’s wives start their own traditions by similarly reproducing quilts made by their birth mothers.

Each year, after the story of the nativity was told, the children insisted it wasn’t Christmas without retelling the quilt story, the tile story and how the twins got their middle names. After the stories were told the twins Eric and Benjamin always in unison proclaimed, “Now it really is a Merry Christmas!”

And it was.

The End

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Note: In France John Mouras invented the septic tank in 1860, and opened it in 1870 to be sure it worked. He didn’t apply for a patent until 1881, but for the purpose of this story I assumed it would be something Adam and his engineering contacts would be interested in and know about before the patent was approved. A timeline can be found in A Short History of the Septic System.

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