Greatest Gift of All; Chapter 2

 

Greatest Gift of All; Chapter 2

© 2025 by Amber Wright

Date: Christmas Eve, 1900

Place: Boston, Massachusetts

Lance closed the livery door where he stored his old clapboard wagon and where he rented a team of horses to pull his lumber. Just as he started to leave on foot, a girl’s voice called to him excitedly.

He stopped with a slight groan and turned around. It was the livery man’s eleven year-old daughter. She smiled up at him.

“Hello, Lance. I saw you through my window,” Holly Sandborne began. “I was doing boring lessons so I came out.”

“Lessons, on Christmas Eve?”

“Embroidery.” Holly wrinkled up her pug nose. “My thorn in this rosebush! I always prick my fingers until they bleed.”

Lance laughed, half out of obligation. Thorn in this rosebush! She said the most absurd things. But now was no time to stall

around, chatting with the little girl who was always full of words. He had to go. Now.

“Anyhow, I thought you wouldn’t mind me talking to for a bit.” Holly tossed her blond curls back and looked around chirpily, confident.

A bit, he groaned inside. Her “bit” was at least ten minutes long. He’d have to have a good excuse. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He smiled. “Sure.”

At that, she began talking away in her usual nonstop way. He listened dutifully.

• • •

Ebron pulled his collar up and hoped his ears wouldn’t freeze off. It was that cold. He found icy smoke curling before him as he walked. A walking ice chimney, he smiled. Never figured on being that. Well… he stopped thinking and started listening.

Ahead of him on the road outside the city limits of Boston, the sound of a chopping tree rang through the still, icy air. Ebron moved his feet forward. Maybe this man who was chopping the tree would need a helper.

Him.

As his feet pushed through the snow, he heard his stomach growling. He pulled out his red and white striped candy cane to lick on and started in the direction of the noise.

• • •

Quit talking, Lance reminded himself. It’s time to go…and look for Ebron. He pulled one of Holly’s curls, ready to say goodbye.

“Careful!” Holly whined. “Mother will be upset if my hair is mussed. She’ll think I’ve been unladylike and will have to discipline,” here she wrinkled her nose.

“Discipline, hmm?”

“That means,” Holly rolled her eyes and flung out one hand in an exasperated way, “I’ll have to walk around all day with a book on top of my head. That!”

“A book? Ha-ha. That’d suit you.”

Holly was giving him a mean look when she suddenly froze. Her mother was calling down to her from an upstairs window.

“Holly,” her mother’s head stretched over the window box where flowers tumbled over in summer. “Come back in to your lessons! Mrs. Hays doesn’t have all day—or time for runaways.”

Holly answered meekly and gave Lance a wry smile. “I suppose I must go.”

“You do that.” Lance patted her head and sighed inside. Mrs. Sandborne had saved the day. “Practice makes perfect.”

“They say that,” she skipped away with a glance back. “But I never get any results from that. Goodbye!”

“Hey wait,” Lance blinked. “Have you seen, er, my brother today?”

Holly stopped on the doorstep to face him. “Which brother?”

“Ebron.” He swallowed.

“Yes, I said hello to him from my window and he didn’t hear me.” Holly began to frown. “I wondered what I had said to—”

“Which direction was he going in?” Lance cut in with a start. If Ebron hadn’t heard Holly shouting at him, he must be in a very bad sorts. I hope he isn’t frozen already.

He waved and quickly strode in the direction Holly had pointed to. As he went, he asked passersby if they had seen a little boy about twelve. After he had described his little brother, they all gave him an answer.

Soon, he was out of the city of Boston and into the woodsy area where he had come from. Surely Ebron hadn’t started towards the logging camp, looking for him?

• • •

Snow piled up on both sides him, making a fluffy embankment, as Ebron shuffled along.

His feet were now almost two cubes of ice and his nose hurt and his eyes stung. How much farther was the man with the tree at?

He started to grow dizzy so he grabbed onto the branches he passed.

He took a deep breath, and walked on. His break had cost him. Now he was much farther behind the man. The chopping noises were gone and a crunching of boots began, going towards the road he had come from. Slowly, he plowed his frozen feet through the thick snow and found the road again. Ahead, almost at the curve, a man was dragging a small pine tree. Probably for him and his children. He felt a stab of loneliness.

God, he saw the snow before him blur. Why did you have to take Mama? Now we never have holidays…except for when Pa and them drink. I want a holiday. Please. He felt a hot wetness slide down his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off when his fuzzy mitts.

Then he walked on. Towards the man and his dragging pine tree.

• • •

Lance found new tracks. Small ones. The size of what a twelve year-old would have.

Ebron, where are you? he squinted in the cold and pulled his collar up. The icy wind was piercing into him through his thin coat.

Minutes passed. No sign of Ebron.

Had the wild animals eaten him? Had somebody kidnapped him? His heartbeat tumbled into his ears. If so, he would never forgive himself. A fine brother’s keeper I am! He chewed on the side of his mouth, hoping Ebron would pop out from the bushes and scare him. Nothing. Only silence.

Then Lance closed his eyes, something he had not done in a long, long time.

• • •

“Mama said I could come here to play with Ebron.” Holly said brightly to the now half sober Clem Boyd. Her blueberry colored tam atop her blond curls matched her eyes. “Has Lance found him yet?”

Clem Boyd sat down with a cry. Holly stared. Clem Boyd never cried. She cleared her throat, and cleared her throat again. He was still sitting there, crying. What must I do? I know, Lachlan. He’ll know. She turned to go but Clem reached out to her. Holly stopped and her eyes rounded like blueberry tarts. His hand was shaking.

“Mr. Boyd?” her voice rattled.

“I…uh,” Clem took a gulp. “I told Ebron to leave…to go. I…am…sorry.”

Her eyes blinked in a scared sort of way. His own father told him to leave? Why, Ebron’s my age. We’re still children, really.

She gulped and tried to be cheerful. “Lance will find him. Don’t worry.” She grinned. “You’ll see.”

Clem looked up with hopeful, red eyes. “I pray so. If only—” he wailed softly.

Holly patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, Mr. Boyd. Grown ups can make mistakes too. I do all the time.”

Clem blinked and found his voice again. “But you’re little and you only make little mistakes. I’m big,” his voice cracked, “and I make big mistakes.”

“Well, if God’s little enough to forgive me for my little mistakes,” she smiled her most cheerful smile. “Then God’s big enough to forgive you for your big mistakes.”