A Bride and Baby for Christmas
Lauri Robinson
Dedicated to my granddaughter Karlee Jo.
Love you forever and ever.
I’ve had so much fun writing about the community members of Oak Grove, and was especially excited to spend the holidays with them. From the time she made an appearance in Winning the Mail-Order Bride, I knew Hannah would have her own story—and because she needed a bit of a miracle, a Christmas story was perfect for her. And Teddy… Well, he was absolutely perfect for her. He just didn’t know it.
While I was writing this story Teddy’s actions reminded me of my grandfather. When I was in grade school my family moved from Northern Minnesota to Kansas. I remember hearing my mother talking to my grandfather on the phone. She told him the store had trees for sale, but they were so dried-out she was afraid to put one in the house. A week or so after that conversation a UPS truck delivered a tree wrapped in burlap to our door. My grandfather had cut down a tree on his property and obtained a special permit to ship it out of state so we could have a ‘real’ Christmas tree.
That’s what this season is about. Miracles. Whether they are trees, cradles or babies. Take a moment to remember your Christmas miracles. And smile.
Blessings to you and yours!
Lauri
Although moments ago she’d seen Teddy White out the window and watched him walking across the field that separated the house from town, the quick knock on the door startled Hannah Olsen so fully, the papers she’d been stacking scattered across the table and onto the chair. Hannah sucked in a deep breath and scooped the papers into a pile before calling, “Come in.”
Teddy stepped in quickly and closed the door behind him. “Good day, Mrs. Olsen,” he said while removing his narrow-brimmed hat. “Fiona asked if I could stop by and pick up your etchings.”
Having grown used to people adding “Mrs.” to her name Hannah no longer flinched at that. However, a flutter happened inside her—and it wasn’t her unborn child. Teddy’s voice did that to her, and she should have prepared herself for it. For months, her heart had taken to fluttering whenever he was near, and lately, it had gotten worse.
Forcing herself to speak around the frog in her throat, she said, “Yes, thank you, Mr. White.” Shaken enough already, she kept her attention on the papers and wooden blocks. Looking at him would only make the flutters worse. “I’m sorry I didn’t have them completed earlier, but I do now.”
“I’m sorry Abigail insisted upon so many this week.” He stepped closer to the table. “It’s because of the holiday. She wants plenty of pictures in the Thanksgiving edition.”
His sincerity surpassed her will not to look at him. Tiny specks of snow clung to his leather jacket, which was the same shade of brown as his eyes. Genuine regret sat in those eyes today. Hannah had seen that before. He often apologized for his sister.
“It wasn’t too many,” she assured, while stepping away from the table. “I just let time slip away when I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sure you’re busy with many other things,” he said.
Hannah’s hands went to her stomach. She had very little to do, except worry. Her father had said her baby would be ridiculed for not having a father, just like Herb Lundberg had been. A day hadn’t gone by where Herb hadn’t been blamed for something, even on the days he hadn’t been in school. That wouldn’t happen to her child. She’d make sure of it. That’s why she’d left Wisconsin, and would never go back. Not about to admit all that to Teddy, she searched for something else to say. “The wind is bitter today.”
“Yes, it is,” Teddy said with a smile, and a glance toward the