Mr. Darling. Will you do that for me?”
James nodded. “He'll still be Mr. Otto?”
“Always and forever,” she said, opening the book again. “Cross my heart.”
“So that's the book,” Paul said, after she finished reading, knelt for James's prayer, and turned off the light.
“The very one.” Julia closed the door to James's room and took the tape measure from Paul. “What's this for?”
“Your mother says you are to measure me for temple clothes and garments, which she and you will make during the next few months.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Here are the measurements she needs.” He nudged her shoulder and pointed. “I'm really looking forward to the measurement from my crotch to my ankle.”
“Slow down, cowboy,” Julia said. “ You're going to hold that tape measure at your crotch and I'll handle the ankle part! Mama didn't raise silly women.”
“I had to try,” he joked. “And I suppose you'll want to do the chest measurements and neck to waist measurements in a well-lighted place like the dining room, where your father is still making that elevator?”
“You are smart, for a cowpuncher.”
Keep it light, keep it light , Julia thought, after family prayers, with all of them kneeling in the parlor. I'll miss you dreadfully, Mr. Otto .
“We'll be going early to catch that short line to Ogden,” he said. “I've been on the Overland Express so much in the past year that I think I'll be a conductor, if ranching ever gets boring.”
“You'd have to go through Rock Springs several times a week,” Julia pointed out, not wanting him to go upstairs to bed.
“That's a scary thought,” he said. He hesitated, then looked at Papa. “Jed, would you give me a blessing? I'm just not easy about James, or leaving Julia, or thinking about that house that isn't going anywhere.”
“I'd be honored. Kneel down, son.” He rested his hands on Paul's shoulders. “When Julia left here a year ago, I blessed her to look at people different from her in new ways.”
“And you blessed me to be kept safe from storm and fire too,” Julia said softly, kneeling beside Mama.
“So I did,” Papa said, his voice thoughtful. “Paul, I know it says Hixon in your family Bible, but we know it's Hickman now. Any preferences?”
“The Bible burned up. I lost everything except my father's medicine bag and Julia, which means I lost exactly nothing. Make it Hickman. We're starting over.”
Julia didn't even try to swallow the lump in her throat. Tears coursed down her cheeks as her father blessed Paul with peace of mind and heart and told him not to worry about the house. “The Lord generally provides,” he concluded, “even if not in ways we imagine, because His ways are most certainly not ours.”
When Paul rose, Julia stayed on her knees. “My turn, Paul,” she said simply. “You speak, and Papa, your hands too.”
“Walk with me, Darling,” he said, when he finished and lifted her to her feet. “We'll be back in a little while.”
It was a Christmas world outside, she decided, with snow gently falling, as it had all season; today it was Christmas snow. They strolled arm in arm, taking little glances inside the houses on the block, with Christmas trees and people gathered around them. It was late enough that some guests were leaving, with laughter and arms full of presents or carrying sleepy children.
“You've had Christmases like this all your life,” Paul commented. “Going to miss them?”
She shook her head, remembering last year's belated Christmas at the Double Tipi. “Maybe not too much, if you're there.”
“I'll be there. No more separations like this one, please. My hands in the bunkhouse are really getting tired of my foul mood. They were all hoping we'd get married at Christmas, but they just don't quite understand that we can't, until March.”
“Try not to be crabby,” she told him. “Mama is going to keep me very busy sewing!”
“I may be crabby, but I pay
James nodded. “He'll still be Mr. Otto?”
“Always and forever,” she said, opening the book again. “Cross my heart.”
“So that's the book,” Paul said, after she finished reading, knelt for James's prayer, and turned off the light.
“The very one.” Julia closed the door to James's room and took the tape measure from Paul. “What's this for?”
“Your mother says you are to measure me for temple clothes and garments, which she and you will make during the next few months.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Here are the measurements she needs.” He nudged her shoulder and pointed. “I'm really looking forward to the measurement from my crotch to my ankle.”
“Slow down, cowboy,” Julia said. “ You're going to hold that tape measure at your crotch and I'll handle the ankle part! Mama didn't raise silly women.”
“I had to try,” he joked. “And I suppose you'll want to do the chest measurements and neck to waist measurements in a well-lighted place like the dining room, where your father is still making that elevator?”
“You are smart, for a cowpuncher.”
Keep it light, keep it light , Julia thought, after family prayers, with all of them kneeling in the parlor. I'll miss you dreadfully, Mr. Otto .
“We'll be going early to catch that short line to Ogden,” he said. “I've been on the Overland Express so much in the past year that I think I'll be a conductor, if ranching ever gets boring.”
“You'd have to go through Rock Springs several times a week,” Julia pointed out, not wanting him to go upstairs to bed.
“That's a scary thought,” he said. He hesitated, then looked at Papa. “Jed, would you give me a blessing? I'm just not easy about James, or leaving Julia, or thinking about that house that isn't going anywhere.”
“I'd be honored. Kneel down, son.” He rested his hands on Paul's shoulders. “When Julia left here a year ago, I blessed her to look at people different from her in new ways.”
“And you blessed me to be kept safe from storm and fire too,” Julia said softly, kneeling beside Mama.
“So I did,” Papa said, his voice thoughtful. “Paul, I know it says Hixon in your family Bible, but we know it's Hickman now. Any preferences?”
“The Bible burned up. I lost everything except my father's medicine bag and Julia, which means I lost exactly nothing. Make it Hickman. We're starting over.”
Julia didn't even try to swallow the lump in her throat. Tears coursed down her cheeks as her father blessed Paul with peace of mind and heart and told him not to worry about the house. “The Lord generally provides,” he concluded, “even if not in ways we imagine, because His ways are most certainly not ours.”
When Paul rose, Julia stayed on her knees. “My turn, Paul,” she said simply. “You speak, and Papa, your hands too.”
“Walk with me, Darling,” he said, when he finished and lifted her to her feet. “We'll be back in a little while.”
It was a Christmas world outside, she decided, with snow gently falling, as it had all season; today it was Christmas snow. They strolled arm in arm, taking little glances inside the houses on the block, with Christmas trees and people gathered around them. It was late enough that some guests were leaving, with laughter and arms full of presents or carrying sleepy children.
“You've had Christmases like this all your life,” Paul commented. “Going to miss them?”
She shook her head, remembering last year's belated Christmas at the Double Tipi. “Maybe not too much, if you're there.”
“I'll be there. No more separations like this one, please. My hands in the bunkhouse are really getting tired of my foul mood. They were all hoping we'd get married at Christmas, but they just don't quite understand that we can't, until March.”
“Try not to be crabby,” she told him. “Mama is going to keep me very busy sewing!”
“I may be crabby, but I pay
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