Summary:\u00a0 A Christmas peek at Ben and Adam on the trail West.
\nRating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 (4,040 words)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam, son?\u00a0 What are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
Eight-year-old Adam Cartwright started, winced, and then shifted his body to hide<\/em> what he was doing.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t that what he was doing was wrong\u2026exactly\u2026it was just that\u2026well\u2026the paper he was doing it on just happened to belong at the end of one of his pa\u2019s books.<\/p>\n It was the only blank paper he could find in the wagon.<\/p>\n \u201cNothing,\u201d the small boy replied with a glance over his shoulder as he shifted again to make sure his behind covered the scrap of paper entirely.<\/p>\n It was twilight time, so that answer was okay.\u00a0 Otherwise he\u2019d probably get a lecture about how on a wagon train there was no time to do \u2018nothing\u2019 and he should be doing something.<\/em><\/p>\n Which he was.<\/p>\n His pa was giving him \u2018that\u2019 look.\u00a0 Pa had a lot of them, but this was one of the ones he had a hard time figuring out.\u00a0 Like some words, it seemed to have different meanings depending on what was going on.\u00a0 Words like \u2018bank\u2019 or \u2018bat\u2019.<\/p>\n Or \u2018right\u2019.<\/p>\n \u2018Wrong\u2019 on the other hand had only one meaning he knew about.<\/p>\n Pa closed the distance between them.\u00a0 Reaching out a hand, he placed it on his forehead.\u00a0 \u201cNo fever.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine, Pa.\u00a0 Just\u2026tired.\u201d<\/p>\n It was the truth.\u00a0 He was<\/em> tired.\u00a0 Tired of traveling. Tired of being cooped up in a wagon with no place for a man to stretch his legs.\u00a0 Tired of too little<\/em> food and too much<\/em> snow and too<\/em> many people \u2013 who were just as tired \u2013 snapping and snarling at one another like hungry wolves lined up on one of the white banks that framed the trail.<\/p>\n \u201cHhmph,\u201d his father said \u2013 which was Pa\u2019s way of answering when he thought that what someone else felt was his<\/em> fault.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not,\u201d the boy said.<\/p>\n \u201cNot what?\u201d Pa asked with a leap of his black brows.<\/p>\n \u201cYou fault.\u201d\u00a0 Adam held his father\u2019s gaze.\u00a0 \u201cAny of it.\u201d<\/p>\n The big man drew a breath.\u00a0 Pa seemed to stuggle with something \u2013 anger maybe \u2013 for a moment, and then he rewarded him with a weary smile.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen did you get to be so wise?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shrugged.\u00a0 \u201cI think you told me I got that from Ma.\u201d<\/p>\n There it was \u2013 that wince of deep pain \u2013 then Pa smiled again.\u00a0 This time his father\u2019s hand caressed his thick black hair.\u00a0 \u201cSo I did.\u00a0 And your pa is never wrong, right?\u201d<\/p>\n The boy grinned.\u00a0 \u201cRight!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo\u2026\u201d Pa said as he began to rummage around the wagon\u2019s interior for whatever he\u2019d come for, \u201cnot going to visit Quill tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, sir\u2026er\u2026yes, sir.\u201d\u00a0 He frowned. What was the proper way to answer that?\u00a0 He sure wished he knew more about grammar.\u00a0 There were teachers among the inhabitants of the wagon train. Sadly, there were more of them than there was time for any kind of schooling.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve got chores to do before bed.\u00a0 I thought I\u2019d take him what\u2019s left of the Johnny cakes Miss Murray made me this morning as a sort of, well, you know\u2026Christmas present.\u201d<\/p>\n His father paused and looked at him.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s kind of you, son.\u00a0 Be sure to do so before dark.\u00a0 And if it\u2019s dark before you leave, Quill needs to walk you at least part of the way back.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam surpressed a sigh.\u00a0 \u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa straightened up.\u00a0 He had another one of \u2018those\u2019 looks; one he knew too well.\u00a0 \u201cI know you think I am overprotective,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cThe other boys your age \u2013\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t have you<\/em> as their pa.\u201d\u00a0 Adam smiled.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n And it was.<\/p>\n \u201cAh!\u201d\u00a0 Pa dove deep into a pile of cast-off clothes and came up with his pipe.\u00a0 \u201cThere is it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you keeping watch tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n The older man nodded. \u201cTil two in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it okay if I stay with Quill until then?\u201d\u00a0 He had<\/em> to try.\u00a0 \u201cHe said he\u2019ll walk me back anytime.\u201d<\/p>\n Brief suspicion passed over the older man\u2019s face.\u00a0 \u201cIs there a reason?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shrugged.\u00a0 \u201cI like Quill and\u2026it\u2019s less lonely when I\u2019m with someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa let out a sigh as he sat beside him.\u00a0 The older man hung his roughened hands between his knees and looked out \u2013 beyond the canvas wall of the wagon.\u00a0 \u201cOne day, son, I promise you, we\u2019ll have a home.\u00a0 I know it\u2019s not been easy.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy placed his small hand over his father\u2019s large one.\u00a0 \u201cIts okay, Pa.\u00a0 We\u2019re together. That\u2019s all that matters.\u201d<\/p>\n His father looked at him.\u00a0 Pa said nothing, but Adam could read it in the older man\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n They asked the question \u2013 \u2018Is it?\u2019<\/p>\n The older man drew a deep breath.\u00a0 Pa patted his thigh before rising.\u00a0 \u201cI need to get going.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou go ahead.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be careful on my way and I\u2019ll have Quill bring me back.\u00a0 I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n The older man nodded.\u00a0 \u201cAnd I know you are a man of your word.\u00a0 I love you, son,\u201d he said as he opened the wagon\u2019s canvas door.<\/p>\n \u201cI love you too, Pa,\u201d Adam replied.<\/p>\n \u201cGive Quill my regards.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Quill Birdsong\u2019s wagon was at the rear of the train \u2013 near the very end.\u00a0 Theirs was somewhere near the middle.\u00a0 He and the older man had become friends after he asked him about his name.\u00a0 It was kind of a funny one with both \u2018quill\u2019 and \u2018bird\u2019 being a part of it.\u00a0 At the time, he\u2019d wondered what Mr. Birdsong\u2019s parents had been thinking of?!\u00a0 Quill came from Germany.\u00a0 He was older than pa \u2013 maybe by twenty years.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t say much about himself, but he\u2019d learned from other people on the wagon train that he\u2019d emigrated with his family on account of the fact that there was no work for him in the Old World. Quill was a weaver by trade and no one needed weavers anymore because machines were doing their work.\u00a0 He\u2019d come to America with his wife, daughter, and his daughter\u2019s children.<\/p>\n Most of them were dead; buried somewhere along the road to California.<\/p>\n Maybe that was why Quill liked him to come by.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t get that wince of deep pain when Mr. Birdsong looked at him.\u00a0 Probably because he was somebody else\u2019s<\/em> son.\u00a0\u00a0 Quill had a small loom he\u2019d brought with him on the wagon train and he would sit and weave while they talked about just about everything \u2013 but especially about words.<\/p>\n And the power of words.<\/p>\n Adam glanced at the back of the wagon.\u00a0 His pa had left it partially open, so he knew the older man was gone.\u00a0\u00a0 Scooching a bit, the boy moved his behind off the piece of paper he\u2019d been hiding. Then, taking it and the book he had purloined the sheet from in hand, he picked up his everlasting pencil and \u2013 using the book as a prop \u2013 began to write again.<\/p>\n \u2018Brown.\u00a0 Earthlike.\u00a0 Dirt-colored.\u00a0 Coffee-colored.\u201d\u00a0 Adam licked his lips and scribbled, \u2018Chocolate-colored.\u2019\u00a0 He paused, pen in hand \u2013 and then struck them all out.\u00a0 \u201cNo,\u201d he said softly. \u201cNo!\u00a0 That\u2019s not right.\u201d\u00a0 The boy closed his eyes and drew a breath and pictured the thing he was trying to describe.\u00a0 What was that word Quill used when he talked about the color his hair had<\/em> been?<\/p>\n Adam smiled.<\/p>\n \u2018Umber\u2019.<\/p>\n That was it.\u00a0 Umber.<\/p>\n Her eyes were \u2018umber\u2019.\u00a0 They were also \u2018limped\u2019.<\/p>\n The pencil hesitated.\u00a0 Limped?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 That wasn\u2019t right!\u00a0 He\u2019d use \u2018liquid\u2019 but that made it sound like her eyes would run off a plate if it was tilted, and \u2018wet, well, wet was vulgar.\u00a0 It conjured up thoughts of smelly hide and moldy wood.\u00a0 He was sure the word he was hunting was \u2018limped\u2019 but it didn\u2019t sound right.\u00a0 His full lips twisted.\u00a0 \u2018Limped\u2019 or \u2018limp-ed\u2026.<\/p>\n That was it!\u00a0 Limpid!<\/em><\/p>\n The pencil moved again on the sheet of paper, finishing the line he had been penning when his father came to the wagon unexpectedly.\u00a0 \u201cDeep umber wells,\u201d he read out loud, \u2018limpid pools of welcoming darkness that lift as I approach\u2026.\u2019<\/p>\n Adam dropped the paper to rest on the fabric of his well-worn janes and sighed.<\/p>\n Clara.<\/p>\n Pa wondered what he found so interesting about old Quill.\u00a0 He liked Quill and really liked to visit him.\u00a0 Quill had gone to university in Germany, so he knew all kinds of things and<\/em> he was willing to teach them to him.\u00a0 Quill didn\u2019t spend all his time talking about crops and cows, or the weather, or making a fortune like the other men on the train. He talked about the world he had seen and the things he had done. The older man was soft-spoken and kind, if a little sad most of the time.\u00a0 Yeah, he liked Quill.<\/p>\n But he really<\/em> liked Clara!<\/p>\n He\u2026maybe even\u2026loved her.<\/p>\n Adam looked at his paper again.\u00a0 \u2018Out of the dark she comes, seeking my touch.\u00a0 Deep umber wells, limpid pools of welcoming darkness that lift as I approach.\u00a0 My heart beats in return, hoping her love to earn.\u2019<\/p>\n Well, it wasn\u2019t Shakespeare, but Quill said that didn\u2019t matter.\u00a0 What mattered in a poem was putting feelings into words that were pictures other people could see without seeing anything.\u00a0 Quill had a book of Shakespeare\u2019s complete works. Sometimes when they got tired of talking, he\u2019d get it out and read to him.\u00a0 The older man liked the plays, but it was the sonnets that spoke to him.\u00a0 So many people used so<\/em> many words to say things when \u2013 most of the time \u2013 when just a few \u2018right\u2019 words would do.\u00a0 When he and Pa joined the others for supper, he\u2019d sit and listen to the endless chatter \u2013 to the \u2018so many\u2019 words \u2013 and wonder how it was that most people spoke about nothing.\u00a0 Words were important.<\/p>\n He\u2019d made a vow to himself that he would always use the right ones, even if it meant he had to be quiet to find them.<\/p>\n The boy read through the poem again and nodded.\u00a0 He was pretty happy with the words he\u2019d written so far.\u00a0 Clara was special and so the words had to be special.\u00a0 He was writing the poem for her and had to get it right.\u00a0 \u201cUmber\u2019 he said aloud, relishing the feel of the word on his tongue.\u00a0 \u201cLimp-ed\u2026no\u2026lim-pid<\/em>.\u201d\u00a0 Those two worked for her eyes.\u00a0 But Clara\u2019s hair?\u00a0 It was red-gold, like the color of an old copper kettle but prettier than that. \u00a0Richer.\u00a0 The boy ran through the words he knew people used to describe their pans \u2013 metallic, bronze, reddish. One lady on the train \u2013 Mrs. O\u2019Toole \u2013 had hair the color of Clara\u2019s.\u00a0 People said it was \u2018auburn\u2019, but that still wasn\u2019t it and \u2018coppery\u2019 wasn\u2019t even a word<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t think.<\/p>\n Adam closed his eyes and tried to remember the conversation he and Quill had had about colors.\u00a0 The older man had eyed him and said in soft tones colored by his origins.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cVhat<\/em> is the good of a vord<\/em> like \u2018schwarz or black\u2019?\u00a0 All black says is that there is no light.\u201d\u00a0 Quill had smiled.\u00a0 \u201c\u2018Ebon\u2019 speaks of shifting shadows.\u00a0 Onyx of a darkness cold as flint.\u00a0 Pitch makes your eyes vater vit the memory.\u201d\u00a0 There had been one word for orange-red that he had really liked.\u00a0 What was it?\u00a0 What<\/em> was it??<\/p>\n He chuckled.<\/p>\n Titian.\u00a0 Like the ladies in the paintings by the artist of that name in the book Quill had.<\/p>\n The naked ladies.<\/p>\n Pa would kill him if he knew!<\/p>\n \u201cOut of the dark she comes, seeking my touch,\u201d he read aloud.\u00a0 \u201cDeep umber wells, limpid pools of welcoming darkness that lift as I approach.\u00a0 My heart beats fast in return, hoping her love to earn. The light of the fire turns her reddish hair into a coat of Titian threads that scintillate as she moves.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2018Scintillate\u2019.\u00a0 He loved that one.\u00a0\u00a0 It was like the word itself moved when you said it.<\/p>\n \u201cScintillate.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam read it again and added, thoughtfully,\u201d\u2026scintillate as she moves and my love proves as I give her the gift I bring.\u201d\u00a0 His hazel eyes flicked to the package hidden under his well-worn linsey-woolsey coat.\u00a0 He read it again, and then added, \u201c\u2026expecting nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n Quill had told him that the deepest and best kind of love was given expecting nothing in return.<\/p>\n The boy read through his short piece one more time before nodding.\u00a0 Then he carefully folded the paper and placed it in the pocket of his heavy coat before donning the warm item and picking up the small burlap parcel of Johnny cakes.\u00a0 It was close to Christmas.\u00a0 There was a lot of snow on the ground.\u00a0 It seemed funny to worry about freezing when you were just going to visit a neighbor, but this trip had taught him to nothing for granted.<\/p>\n He\u2019d seen too many people who had done that die.<\/p>\n It was a short step and a long hop for Adam to leave the wagon.\u00a0 He\u2019d made sure to grab his hat and gloves before he started his journey.\u00a0 Quill lived at the end of a train of 30 wagons, which was about a quarter of a mile walk from the first one and maybe an eighth of a mile for him.\u00a0 Twilight was falling when his pa left the wagon.\u00a0 Now it was in full swing.\u00a0 The sky was a perfect palette of the colors of fire \u2013 orange, blue and lavender darkening into purple.\u00a0 The boy smiled.\u00a0 Or maybe it would be better to say it was a \u2018kaleidoscope of heliotrope\u2019.<\/p>\n Adam laughed aloud. He liked those words too.<\/p>\n He just liked words.<\/p>\n But not as much as he liked Clara.<\/p>\n Most of the families in the wagon train had settled down for the night, turning in and lacing their canvas coverings tightly against the winter chill.\u00a0 There\u2019d been a lot of grumbling in the camp since it had snowed.\u00a0 They\u2019d left New England in late spring.\u00a0 The California Trail took about six months to complete and the wagon master said at the start that he he meant to get them to Nevada before winter set in.\u00a0 They might have made it too if not for that time in Missouri when it rained and rained and rained and the road turned to mud, slowing, and then stopping them for weeks. \u00a0Or that time in Kansas when they all got sick and had to wait even longer for everyone to recover.\u00a0 And then there were the broken wheels that had to be mended and stops for supplies and on and on.\u00a0 It was almost Christmas now and from the look of things they might still be on the road when the new year arrived.<\/p>\n That was all right with him.\u00a0 He liked snow.<\/p>\n Unlike people, it was quiet.<\/p>\n \u201cYoung Master Adam!\u00a0 And now just where do you\u2019d be going this late in the day, and all on your own?\u201d<\/p>\n It was Mrs. O\u2019Toole, the lady with \u2018auburn\u2019 hair.\u00a0 She was a nice lady, about his pa\u2019s age, who\u2019d been recently widowed and was traveling west to her sister\u2019s place where she meant to start over.\u00a0 She had two sons with her and they were pretty nice too, if a little bossy.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going to see Quill,\u201d Adam replied.\u00a0 \u201cPa said it was okay.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrs. O\u2019Toole\u2019s wagon was number twenty and Quill\u2019s, twenty-nine.\u00a0 So they were three or four hundred paces apart.\u00a0 Quill called her Maggie and seemed to like her well enough though he wasn\u2019t too fond of her boys.\u00a0 The older man said they were \u2018schnippicsh\u2019, which was a German word.\u00a0 Adam wasn\u2019t exactly sure what it meant, but Pa had laughed and laughed when he told him.<\/p>\n And agreed.<\/p>\n \u201cSeems to me you came by this way last night\u2026and the night before,\u201d Mrs. O\u2019Toole said, her tone light and teasing.\u00a0 \u201cNow, Quill\u2019s a fine man \u2013 don\u2019t get me wrong \u2013 but I\u2019m thinking there must be something else draws a young lad like you all the way to the back of the train.\u00a0 Would you be telling me what it is?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam swallowed hard \u2013 and shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cAh.\u00a0 So, it\u2019s a secret then.\u00a0 Well, that\u2019s a fine thing.\u201d The redhead leaned in and lowered her voice.\u00a0 \u201cA woman likes a man of mystery.\u201d Before he could say anything, she added, \u201cNow, just you wait here.\u00a0 I\u2019ve got something for you.\u201d<\/p>\n She ducked inside her wagon and returned a moment later with a box in her hands. He knew what was in it the moment he caught the scent of nutmeg, cinnamon and rose.<\/p>\n \u201cJumbles!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAye,\u201d she replied, her tone wistful.\u00a0 \u201cI was thinking I\u2019d send some to old Quinn for the holidays since he lacks a woman\u2019s touch.\u00a0 Will you be taking them for me?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s tummy growled in time with his disappointment.\u00a0 It had been a long time since he\u2019d eaten and even then it wasn\u2019t much.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t remember <\/em>the last time he\u2019d had a sweet!\u00a0 Mrs. O\u2019Toole\u2019s jumble butter cookies were the stuff of legends among the boys on the wagon train and for a moment \u2013 just a moment \u2013 he\u2019d thought they were his.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll make sure Quill gets them, Ma\u2019am,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cBless you, Master Cartwright, you\u2019re sure to make an old man happy.\u00a0 Now, be off with you.\u00a0 The sun\u2019s nearly down.\u201d<\/p>\n He\u2019d only taken two steps when she called him back.\u00a0 \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am?\u201d Adam asked as he turned toward her.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd be sure to take one or two for yourself,\u201d she said with a smile.\u00a0 \u201cTis only right to pay the courier.\u201d<\/p>\n A moment later he was on his way with a twisted jumble tucked safely in each of his coat pockets \u2013 one for himself and one for Clara.\u00a0 That<\/em> one was wrapped in the end paper he\u2019d taken from his pa\u2019s book and written his sonnet on.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Quill liked to stay up late, so Adam wasn\u2019t surprised to see that the lantern on his wagon was still lit.\u00a0 It meant the older man was still awake and willing to receive visitors.\u00a0 He hoped Clara would be awake too.\u00a0 It had been a few days since he\u2019d seen her and the last time she hadn\u2019t been feeling too well.\u00a0 The road to California was long and hard on everyone and he wanted her to know how he felt just\u2026.<\/p>\n Well, just in case.<\/p>\n The boy\u2019s small fingers closed on the wrapped jumble in his pocket. That<\/em> would make her eyes light up even if his poem didn\u2019t!<\/p>\n \u201cAdam!\u00a0 It\u2019s sehr<\/em> late, my boy.\u00a0 Does your vater<\/em> know you are here?\u201d\u00a0 The older man had opened the flap of the wagon and descended to the ground. His shirttail was out, so he was probably headed for the trees.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, sir.\u00a0 Pa\u2019s keeping watch tonight, so he said it was okay for me to come\u2026as long as you walk me partway back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course.\u00a0 Of course.\u201d\u00a0 The older man eyed him.\u00a0 \u201cYou must be cold, kleine junge<\/em>.\u00a0 Climb into the wagon.\u00a0 I vill <\/em>return in a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.\u00a0 I am\u2026a little.\u00a0 Is\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs Clara inside?\u201d<\/p>\n Quill grimed and nodded.\u00a0 \u201cShe is. She has been vaiting<\/em> for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n The older man\u00a0 chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cReally.\u00a0 She has been vaiting for her young man to come calling.\u201d<\/p>\n He\u2019d almost blushed when Mrs. O\u2019Toole leaned in.<\/p>\n Now he did.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t know what it was exactly about Clara.\u00a0 It was like there was something that tied them together.\u00a0 He thought about her all of the time \u2013 about her limpid brown eyes and how they lit up when she saw him like he was something special.<\/p>\n Quill placed a hand on his back and shoved him gently. \u201cGeh rein, geh jetzt!\u201dI<\/em><\/p>\n One night when he and his pa had been sitting outside the wagon, staring up at the stars, Pa had started talking about ma.\u00a0 Pa didn\u2019t do that very often.\u00a0 It hurt too much.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t say anything.\u00a0 He just listened.\u00a0 Pa talked about how ma and him had met and married, and how happy she\u2019d had been to find out she was with child \u2013 how she had looked forward to loving and taking care of him. Then Pa said something he never had before. He started to talk about himself and how deeply he had loved her and how lost he was without her.<\/p>\n His soul mate.<\/p>\n Pa said it was as if they had been two parts of one whole, split; a whole that had not been complete until they found each other.\u00a0 Then he\u2019d looked right at him and said, \u2018Son, one day you will find that special someone for yourself and it will be the same.\u2019<\/p>\n Adam pulled the jumble cookie out of his pocket and removed it from its paper wrapping.\u00a0 He read his poem again and realized with a start that he hadn\u2019t really written for Clara.\u00a0 He\u2019d written it for himself out of a deep desire to express something inexpressible.<\/p>\n His need to be loved.<\/p>\n Adam heard a shuffle in the corner and an old, well-worn Indian blanket shifted, revealing what lay beneath.\u00a0 Clara\u2019s deep umber eyes lit up when she saw him.\u00a0 Rising to her feet she moved quickly across the wagon\u2019s rude floorboards to his side.\u00a0 When she stopped, Adam reached out to touch her, marveling again at the silken softness of her coat beneath his fingers.\u00a0 \u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s for you, girl,\u201d he said as he held the cookie out. \u201cJust for you.\u201d<\/p>\n She\u2019d caught the scent of the jumble now.\u00a0 Taking it, she downed it in one bite and then jumped on him and knocked him to the ground.<\/p>\n Adam couldn\u2019t help it.\u00a0 He giggled as her rough tongue washed his face and her fluffy tail beat a tune against the crate Quill used as a chair.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Later, as Quill enjoyed his own jumble, Clara rested on the floor beside Adam\u2019s feet.\u00a0 She sure was beautiful with those dark brown eyes and her thick coat of Titian fur!\u00a0 Quill called her a \u2018roter spitz.\u00a0 Spitz was the kind of dog she was and \u2018roter\u2019 described her red coat.\u00a0 She was just about the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.<\/p>\n \u201cShe sure loves you,\u201d Quill said quietly.<\/p>\n He looked up. \u201cYou think so?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJa, or she vould not be be vhere she is, sitting vit you instead of me!\u201d he laughed.<\/p>\n Adam reached down to ruffle the dog\u2019s thick mane.\u00a0 \u201cWell, I can tell you I sure love her to.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cVould you like Clara to take you home?\u00a0 You could keep her overnight, if your vater vould allow.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa wasn\u2019t too keen on animals, at least in the house\u2026or wagon.<\/p>\n He pushed his fingers into her warm fur.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d really like that, but Pa\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa what?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam started.\u00a0 He turned to find his father entering the wagon.<\/p>\n \u201cMy shift ended early,\u201d he said as he brushed snow from the shoulders of his thick coat. \u00a0His lips twisted with a smile.\u00a0 \u201cA little<\/em> early.\u00a0 It\u2019s a little after midnight.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy jumped to his feet. \u00a0\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Pa!\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t paying attention.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t mean to worry you!\u201d<\/p>\n His father held up a hand.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re not in trouble, son.\u00a0 And I wasn\u2019t worried.\u00a0 I knew you were with Quill.\u201d\u00a0 He paused as he eyed the dog on the floor.\u00a0 \u201cAnd Clara.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI offered the boy that Clara could valk him home and stay until morning.\u00a0 You may consider it a kind of Christmas present, if you like.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s look was one he hadn\u2019t seen before, and that was kind of hard.\u00a0 It was sort of stern, but softened like butter on a windowsill into a kind of\u2026smile\u2026as he watched.<\/p>\n \u201cWould you like that, Adam?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n It took a second to respond.\u00a0 \u201cI sure would!\u00a0 Do you mean I can<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n His father stepped forward to place a hand on his head.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s Christmas Day, son.\u00a0 How could I refuse?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n That night as they lay snuggled in his bedding inside the wagon, while Pa snored, the wind howled, and the stars blazed overhead, Adam told Clara that she was his soul mate and that he would love her until the end of time and then he read her his poem.<\/p>\n She was suitably impressed.<\/p>\n But she liked the second jumble in his pocket even more.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Prompt: Adam finds a soul mate<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar \u2013 Day 10 –\u00a0At the End of Their Rope – Belle<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n