Read A Texas Christmas for Free Online

knew it, they’d be the scandal of the year.

Chapter 7
     
    Maggie woke at dawn. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. Sun flooded a room bare of anything but a bed, a small trunk, and several hooks on the wall to serve as a wardrobe. The room was sterile, impersonal, cold; then she looked out at the sun rising over the canyon wall. The light turned the rocks into breathtaking colors. Rocks spread out in layers of earth colored like Spanish skirts dancing a thousand feet from sky to riverbed.
    She crawled from the bed and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Maggie was drawn to the beauty of nature as she’d never been to any of the great paintings she’d seen in museums painted by masters.
    When she turned, she saw Sam standing in the archway to her bedroom with his son on his arm.
    “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
    “That it is,” he answered, but he was looking at her. “I love seeing your hair like that, so wild and grand. I remember when I was six I used to stare at it when I thought you weren’t looking. I memorized that color. No other woman I’ve ever seen has that exact color.”
    She touched her hair. “I should have braided it last night, but I was too tired. I’m afraid it does tend to go wild.”
    “No. Don’t tie it up today. Leave it down.” He moved a few steps into the room. “Maggie, no one will see it but me, and I like seeing it down.”
    For the past year she’d felt so old. All she’d done was work and worry about what to do with her life. Most days she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending cycle of work. She worried when she couldn’t sleep that she’d grow old without anything changing but the seasons. Like her parents, she’d fade year by year, until when she finally died, only a few would notice.
    “I’ll wear it down,” she said. “But I’ll tie it out of my face.”
    Reaching for her brush, she looked back at the archway and discovered he was gone. Quickly, she dropped the blanket and slipped into her robe. She was buttoning it when Webster toddled into the room carrying a long, thin strand of leather.
    Maggie knelt down and accepted his gift. “Thank you,” she said as the little boy smiled and ran back to his father.
    Looking out the doorway, she saw Sam below, leaning over his workbench. Webster was bumping his way down the stairs on his bottom one step at a time.
    “Sam, there are no doors.”
    He looked up. “I saw no use for them.”
    “But I need to change my clothes. Will you promise to stay down there?”
    “I will.”
    She ran back to her bags and dressed as quickly as she could, then ran back to the landing. “Sam. There are no mirrors.” He opened his mouth, but before he could form words, she shouted down, “I know, you have no use for them.”
    “Right.” He grinned.
    Maggie walked back into what was now her bedroom. Her things were scattered across the floor. Evidently the man saw no use for chairs, tables, dressers, or wardrobes either.
    Tying back her hair as best she could without a mirror, Maggie slipped into her boots and stormed down the stairs.
    Sam didn’t look up from his work, but Webster, who was sitting beneath the table playing with the scraps of leather, smiled at her. She noticed the legs of the table were connected by wide slats so that if Webster wanted out he would have to pass by his father’s long legs. She also noticed that the hearth was built high so he couldn’t have reached any fire within. Anywhere in this house would be safe for a toddler, except the stairs, and Sam had taught his son how to go down them.
    “Does he go with you everywhere?”
    “If I’m on my land he does.” Sam watched her as if trying to guess what she was thinking. “It’s cold and the snow is threatening, but if you like, you could walk with us through our morning chores before we fix breakfast.”
    “All right. Maybe I can even help.”
    “Maybe,” he said as he lifted Webster up.
    By the time she got back