A Lawman's Christmas: A McKettricks of Texas Novel by Linda Lael Miller

the middle of the improvised table when Edrina dragged in, looking despondent.
    â€œYou might as well know straightaway that I’m in trouble again,” she immediately confessed. “Thomas Phillips tried to steal my bonnet at recess, and near strangled me with the ties while he was at it, and I socked him in the stomach. Miss Krenshaw made me stand in the corner for a whole hour, and I have to stay after school to wash the blackboard every day this week.”
    Dara Rose sighed, shook her head in feigned dismay and placed her hands on her hips. “Edrina,” she said, on a long breath, and shook her head again.
    â€œDid Thomas have to stand in the corner, too?” Harriet inquired, already a great believer in fair play.
    â€œYes,” Edrina answered, with precious little satisfaction. “He has to carry in the drinking water for the whole school.”
    â€œWash your hands,” Dara Rose said mildly, when her elder daughter would have sat down to her meal instead.
    Edrina obeyed, with a sigh of her own, and pulled the stool out from under the sink to climb up and plungeher small hands into the basin of warm water Dara Rose had set there.
    â€œMr. McKettrick came by the schoolhouse today,” the child announced. “That sure is a fine horse he rides.”
    Dara Rose felt an odd little catch at the mention of the new marshal and, to her shame, caught herself wondering if he’d found Alvira Krenshaw at all fetching. She was certainly eligible, Miss Krenshaw was, and while she wouldn’t win any prizes for looks, most people agreed that she was a handsome woman with a good head on her shoulders.
    â€œWas there some kind of trouble? Besides your disagreement with Thomas?”
    Edrina had finished washing up, and she climbed deftly back down off the stool, drying her hands on her skirts as she approached the table. “No,” she replied, “but he talked to Miss Krenshaw at the gate for a long time.”
    Dara Rose, who had long since learned to choose her battles, decided to let the hand-drying incident pass. She hoisted Harriet onto the stool, helped her lather to her elbows and then rinse and lifted her down again.
    The three of them gathered at the table.
    It was Harriet’s turn to say grace. “Thank you for the venison and the bread,” she said, in her direct way, her bright head bowed and her eyes squeezed shut. “And if there’s any way I could get that pretty doll in the window of the mercantile for my very own, I would appreciate the kindness. Amen.”
    Dara Rose suppressed a smile even as she endured another pang to her heart. Much as she’d have loved to give her daughters toys for Christmas, she couldn’t afford to do it. And even if she’d had any spare money at all, Edrina and Harriet needed shoes and warm clothes and nourishing food, like milk.
    â€œWhat do you want St. Nicholas to bring you for Christmas?” Harriet asked Edrina, with companionable interest, as they all began to eat.
    Edrina answered without hesitation, a note of gentle tolerance in her voice. “You know there isn’t any St. Nicholas, Harriet,” she reminded her sister. “He’s just a story person, made up by that Mr. Moore.”
    â€œCouldn’t we just pretend he’s real?” Harriet wanted to know. “Just ’til lunch is over?” She sounded more like an adult than a little girl and Dara Rose, though proud of her bright daughters, hoped they weren’t growing up too fast.
    â€œIt wouldn’t hurt to pretend,” she put in quietly.
    Harriet’s face lit up. “What do you want for Christmas, Mama?” she asked eagerly, forgetting all about her food.
    Dara Rose pretended to think very hard for a few moments. “A cow, I think,” she finally decided. “Then we’d have milk and butter of our own. Maybe even cheese.”
    Harriet looked nonplussed. “A cow?” she