Frontier Christmas.(Kevin Hughes) She had her daughter pack up the bear claws. It took the last of her flour, and sugar. But she knew the men would be over the moon when they saw them, and drool when they ate them. It was worth it to her. She had her two boys hitch up the wagon. She had ham, bacon, and Buffalo steaks in the two giant pots, and beans…no cowboy would think a meal complete without beans. She also had ten winter apples for presents for the ten men. Her boys had finished with the tack, and hitting, so they call climbed on the wagon and off they went. She figured they would be somewhere within five miles of her place.

She figured dry gulch would be a likely place to start looking for the herd, and the men would be nearby. Dry gulch was a shallow natural gully, and would keep most of the wind off of the cattle, it wouldn’t help much with the snow, but there wouldn’t be many drifts. She had lived out here in the plains for nigh on seventeen years, and could read the land and weather as well as any Farmer, or Ranch hand, or Cowboy. So they would start looking for the men in Dry Gulch. If they weren’t there, well, she figured they would be down a little farther by the river, maybe a mile or so away from the big bend. Ice and water made herding difficult, but if they had done a hard week before out on the trail, they might rest the cattle down by the river to get their fill.

As the wagon filled with food, the precious apples, and her two boys, three girls and herself bumped along the prairie she thought back to those same ten men, and how she met them all. It was two winters ago. The year after her husband had died from a broken leg. They didn’t find his body until the Spring thaw. He had gotten the deer, but stepped in a gopher hole, and well, it was a hard way to go, dragging a broken leg, and 75 pounds of meat. She was proud of the fact that he had covered nigh on six miles, after breaking his leg. He was a good man. The meat was still wrapped in the skin of the deer and buffalo. When her husband realized he wasn’t going to make it, his last act had been to bury the meat so the wolves wouldn’t get it. They would eat him instead.

It was such a rough winter though, that the wolves didn’t find his frozen body. His body was still froze through when Jack (her eldest) found it, along with the pebble sign her husband left to let them know there was a cache of meat nearby.

'Yep. Jeff was a man to ride the river with.' She thought to herself. She missed him. But that was then, this is now. Time to carry on living. Life is for the living, is what Jeff used to say, and he had lost two whole families before he married Becky. She had lost one husband, but he was a no account, shiftless bum, leaving her with three children and little else. She wouldn’t disrespect the dead, but she wouldn’t say anything kind about that man either. She would just keep her mouth shut. Jeff had more than made up for having to live with a tumble weed for five years.

As the wagon bumped and swayed under Jack’s steady control of the mules, she thought back to more than a year ago. It started out like any other day, when two strangers rode up to the house. She should have known when they didn’t “Hello the house”, they were up to no good. She also should have known that they had done something to Jack and little Jeff, as they didn’t ride in with them to bring them to the house. It was a rough life out on the plains, and travel was tough. But people took care of one another. Becky had fed many a lone traveler, and even a few families headed out West to the Countries, when Jeff was alive. But Jeff had an uncanny ability to spot ruffians, and hooligans - he would feed them, but watch them with his rifle lazily pointing at them. Once they finished eating, Jeff would take Jack and a second gun, and mosey them along over the hills. There was no Jeff to read the sign in these two men.

She had the girls go in the hidden cellar. Bar the door, and if anyone but me, Jack, or Jeff finds you, don’t open it. If they try and open it, shoot right through the door. All three girls were old enough to handle a gun, and all three had Jeff’s backbone. They wouldn’t be easy prey. She stayed at the door, and greeted the two men. She held the rifle ready, but she knew she would only get one shot, and the way they saddled to each side, so she would have to pick a target, just one, told her all she had to know. One of them, the one on the left started to talk. The other one edging up slowly. She had decided she had run out of time, and was going to take her shot when the one on the right darted at her.

She made a mistake, and turned the gun to take on the one coming at her. She realized her mistake immediately. She wasn’t going to get a shot off at either one of them. But she did pull the trigger, and a shot rang out. It hit the dirt and not much else. Then strong mean hands were pulling her off the porch. She tried to punch, scratch, scream, yelling out for Jack and Little Jeff. That just made the two men laugh.

“Your boys are kinda sleeping it off out in the wood line. Briar here, well he hits like a mule. The little one might even be dead.“ And they laughed again. She screamed out curses, and tried to fight, But these were tough men, in a tough land, muscles and hands hardened from labor and hard times. She was no match, but she wanted to do her Jeff proud, and kept on fighting.

Just as the men started to rip her dress off, one sleeve already dangling helplessly from her wrist, the first of the ten men rounded the corner of the corral. They had heard the shot. They knew there was a cabin and a woman who fed strangers hereabouts, and two of them men had actually eaten a meal with Becky and Jeff, when the girls were much smaller. As the first of the ten men came around the corner, it only took them a second to read the sign. These were Western Men, born and bred in hard times, but none of them would mishandle a woman. They treated family women with great respect, and the girls in the Saloon with almost the same care. Women were precious out in the Wild Country, and men who forgot that, well, they rarely got a second chance at all.

It was over in less than a minute. Two bad hombres went to meet their maker, and were buried in unmarked graves. Big Bob, the Foreman, wanted to just let the wolves and coyotes take them to their maker. But Old Tom, he was a Christian. He convinced Big Bob that even though these men were evil, the Lord would want them buried and a few words said. Big Bob and the crew agreed, but they drew the line at a marker.

Fast Red, the quickest man with a gun or knife they had ever seen said it best: “God knows where they are, and it is better that no one else does.” So they buried them both in the same grave, and left no marker. Old Tom read two lines from his scripture about dust unto dust, but was savvy enough not to mention forgiveness in front of the crew. They found both the boys just inside the wood line. Jack had put up a fight, but the tree limb that knocked him silly lay nearby covered with his blood. Little Jeff, well he was missing a tooth, but was already awake and trying to help his brother when the men found them both.

They were tough boys. Little Jeff helped with the horses, while the men buried the evil doers. Jack, well, he took more than week to heal up correctly, but by then the men were long gone. They stayed two days at the cabin. They fixed the roof, added a room for the girls, and fenced in the corral. Even though they were Cattlemen and Cowboys, not farmers, they cleared an acre for Becky’s Truck Garden. Figuring she could trade some vegetables for flour and sugar. Becky had thanked them all.

“No problem, Ma’am.” Was all they would say. Like a lot of Western men, they were shy around most respectable women.

Becky heard one of the men say: “You know, I ain’t never had a Christmas in my whole life. I heard back East they get presents and a big dinner.” The men guffawed and laughed out loud. One of them said: “Yeah, and I heard they got buildings ten feet tall, and trains that go forty miles an hour too!” And they all laughed again. But they quieted up when Becky said:

“It’s true. I had a Christmas once in Boston, before we moved out to Ohio. I got an apple, and that Doll right there that my little Cindy takes care of now.“

When Becky spoke up, everyone shut up. The doll was passed around. None of the men had seen a real store bought doll from back East. It was the prettiest thing, and Becky had kept it in good shape. Each of her girls got to have the doll for a few years, but they had to take care of it. It was a bit faded, but the lace was still unbroken, the face still had the pretty cheeks and long eyelashes, and the shoes were made out of real leather. All of the men admired it, and got to hold it for a bit. Becky told them all about the grand dinner, the candles on the Tree, and the sugar candies. None of the men had ever had sugar candies, but since they were holding the doll, they had to figure that Becky was not telling a tall tale. It sounded grand to all the men. On the third morning they all left. But Becky never forgot that man’s words: “I ain’t never had a Christmas in my whole life.”

Well, this year he would have one. All of them would. She traded two shirts and pair of pants to get all the fixins for Bear Claws at the Trading Store. If she would make him a batch of Bear Claws too, he would give her two silver dollars. So Becky made up a small batch for the two dollars. She used one dollar to buy the wagon. She gave that man two bear claws too, and well, that put him in such a good mood, he threw in some tack, a buggy whip, and an old cushion. The other dollar she saved for hard times. She had seven dollars in coin money, and a small nugget of gold about the size of her middle knuckle - hidden in the floor. Not even the kids knew it was there.

They came to Dry Gulch, and sure enough, she could see the main campfire from the ridge. It only took about ten minutes before one of the outriders came up to the wagon. It was Fast Red. He recognized her immediately.

“Well How de do, Miss Becky! What are you doing out here in this cold and snow?”

He eyed the wagon with the three pretty girls and the two grown boys in it with undisguised curiosity.

“I brought Christmas for you boys!”

Well, let me tell you, when Big Bob saw all the food, the bear claws (and truth be told, the pretty girls too), it was all he could do to speak. Western men don’t cry, but they get damn close on occasion. The boys built the fire up big and proper, and quicker than a jackrabbit could hop they built a big lean to, for the girls, and brought in some logs for stools. Well, when the men were done eating, and the Bear Claws were given out. Two a piece. One to eat now. One for Breakfast, Well, okay Western Men don’t cry, but a little puddle of mist did fall from more than one eye among them. They ate in silence. It was the first bear claw (which would come to be called a “donut” in the modern world) they had ever tasted for six of them. Big Bob, Old Tom, Fast Red, and Riley, well they had bear claws in ST. Louis, and swore you could buy them in a shop. They assured Becky tho, that the shop made Bear Claws were not in the same class as hers. That made Becky just beam with pride.

Then she gave out the apples. The men were speechless. A present? Big quiet men had no way to express their feelings, so they just thanked her and put the apples away in saddle bags, hidden in pockets, or under their blankets. But Becky wasn’t done just yet.

“Are you all ready for some dancing?”

If God himself had appeared at that moment, the men couldn’t have been more surprised. They just stared stupidly at Becky, as if they didn’t understand.

Becky spoke up again:

“Jack here is a fair to middling fiddle player. He knows a ton of songs. Ruth, Ethel, Mary and I haven’t been to a barn dance since my husband died. We would love to dance. Now if you want to court any of us, well you will just have to come by the cabin proper like. But as for me, I would sure like to dance.“

It turned out that Old Tom couldn’t dance a lick, but he could sing like an Angel. Riley could play a bit of fiddle so Jack could get in a good stomping or step too. Everyone but Old Tom got several turns dancing with Becky or one of the girls. It seemed the girls got lighter and lighter on their feet as the night wore on. They never got tired, and never refused a dance. Finally, about midnight, the girls gathered in the lean to, the fire grew a little lower, and stories of the trail were told as a reward for the dancing. The girls found out that some of the men had ridden on a train. Two had fought in Indian Wars. Two more had schooling. Real schooling. They could cipher and do numbers.

The girls were fascinated. They had never seen writing before. So Old Tom, he carefully tore an empty page out of his Bible, and with a careful graceful hand, wrote out each of the Girls names and Jack’s and Little Jeff’s too. He wrote out Becky’s name too. He showed them how to trace the letters in the ground, so they could practice. If asked to sign their name, well, within weeks, all the girls, Becky and the two boys could. They could make their mark now, with letters! What a gift.

In the morning, it didn’t surprise Becky at all that Fast Red asked permission to court Ruth. She had seen the looks the night before. She was surprised that Old Tom took a shine to Ethel. She got a bigger surprise when Old Tom saddled up to ride home with them. He was done with the Trail. If Ethel would have him, he was meaning to become a farmer. That made Becky smile. The biggest surprise came when Big Bob, the Foreman, asked Becky if he could come a courting. She hadn’t seen that coming at all. She had to admit, he was a fine figure of a man. Quiet. Competent. Fair. Like Jeff, but different.

“Becky, I ain’t never been married. I have spent more than half my life on the trail. I have saved up a mite. I was going to buy a little spread down in Texas. But, well, if you ain’t married off once we get this herd to St. Louis, well, I would like to come back and take your hand in marriage.“

Becky surprised herself and set all the men and her children off into fits of hoopin and hollerin, when she brazenly reached up and kissed Big Bob full on the lips.

“Done and Done!“ She said.

Which stood as written in stone in the Old West, until the circuit preacher could marry them off proper like.

The man who had said almost two years earlier at Becky’s place: “I ain’t never had a Christmas in my whole life.” Spoke up before they all parted ways:

“I just want to say, Ma’am. If this is what Christmas is like. I want one every year.”

Becky didn’t hesitate at all.

“Slim, Done and done! You all show up at the Cabin next year, and we will have Christmas. And any other year you can make it.”

And they did.

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