Read Sweetwater Springs Scrooge: A Montana Sky Holiday Short Story (The Montana Sky Series) for Free Online Page A

through the Christmas Eve service without breaking down from missing her lost loved ones. And she didn’t want to be seen crying in front of the whole town.
    I don’t want to attend church.
    A knock sounded at the front door, and she rose and went into the hallway leading toward the entry.
    Noah erupted from his room, running to beat his grandmother to open it.
    “Noah! What have I told you about running in the house?” But Marian’s tone was mild. Tonight’s Christmas, after all, and the child’s wound as tight as a top with excitement.
    Helga Mueller, the baker, waited outside on the porch with a large basket in her hands. Her son, Mattias, stood next to her with a second covered basket. Behind them was Mr. Mueller, his ruddy face even more red with cold, his arms wrapped around a large bundle covered in brown paper.
    “Frohe Weihnachten!” said Helga in her thick German accent.
    Mattias held up the basket. “Merry Christmas,” he repeated in English. “Mr. Masters sends his respects.” The boy plopped his basket into her arms. “He hired us to make you Christmas dinner. Mutti’s rolls and red cabbage, a turkey with dressing, mashed potatoes, yams, a pumpkin pie. He knew we had the two big stoves to cook for him.”
    “A turkey!” Embarrassment made Marian’s tone sharp. Whatever did Elias think he was doing acting like Scrooge sending food to Bob Crachett’s family? But we have plenty! “We don’t need a turkey. I have a perfectly good ham. Take that bird back and give it to a poor family.”
    Helga’s blue eyes twinkled. “Herr Masters consulted with Reverend Norton, ya. The poor, they’ll be given their own Christmas feast. Mr. Masters’ gift to them when they return home from the party. Ham…turkey.” Like St. Nicholas, she touched a finger to the side of her nose.
    Noah took the basket from Mattias. “I like turkey better than ham anyway,” he commented, his tone matter-of-fact.
    Marian eyed him with suspicion. Had he known about this? Still reeling from shock, she tottered backward, motioning for the Muellers to come inside.
    The family deposited everything on the kitchen table. Once again, they wished her a Merry Christmas in both languages and departed, leaving Marian to stare out the front window until the Muellers trudged down the snowy street and disappeared out of sight.
    Shaking her head, she turned to see Noah sneak a roll out of the basket.
    He gave her an innocent look. “I’m hungry.”
    “You’re always hungry.” She moved to the table and peeled away a strip of the brown paper around the bundle, then the waxed paper underneath to find a huge golden brown turkey, still warm from the oven. The rich scent of roasted meat and sage drifted her way. “My word! Whatever was that man thinking! With just the two of us, we’ll be eating this bird for days!”
    “We should invite Mr. Masters for dinner.”
    That was probably Elias’s sneaky plan. “Noah Michael Turner, did you know about this?”
    “No, grandma.” His eyes held a hint of mischief in their depths. “I didn’t know Mr. Masters was sending us food.”
    She eyed her grandson in askance, then accepted his word. The boy had always been a truthful child.
    “Can I have some turkey, Grandma?”
    “May I.” Marian absently corrected Noah’s English, but her thoughts lingered on Elias’s strange gesture. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and saw they had time. “I’ll cut you some slices.”
    She left Noah happily tucking into a second meal and returned to her room to finish getting ready for the evening. But instead of fastening on her pearl set, she sank onto the bed, pondering the dilemma of Elias Masters. She had no doubt the delivery of a meal was a reciprocal challenge to her calling him a Scrooge. But to go beyond a single meal—no matter how lavish—to gift the needy with food, was a grand gesture beyond what she ever would have thought him capable.
    Imagining some of the poorer families,