“Aw, shit,” he said, pulling his braces up and tucking his shirt in, then buttoning it closer to the top, like I’d done.
“Here,” I said, tossing him a pair of rolled up socks. I didn’t know if they were his or mine, but it didn’t rightly matter.
He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling them on and grinning. “Good thing we were payin’ attention.” He blanched. “Jimmy, what if we’d been—?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I reckon she’d have knocked, and we’d have had to scramble. T’would have been a fright and a panic, but she’d have had to wait. We’d have come up with some excuse for not answering right away, I s’pose.”
“I s’pose.”
There came a knock at the door just then. Oscar finished with his socks and jumped up, hastening to pull it open. He flourished a hand and bowed, grinning wide.
“Come in, fair traveler. Won’t you rest yourself a bit?”
Irene stepped inside our little kitchen-house and shoved her hood back, smiling and rosy-cheeked. Wet snow caked around the tiny buttons of her heeled boots, and on the hem of her skirt.
“Don’t mind if I do! Hello, Oscar, Jimmy.” She gazed about her with interest. “Well, this is a cozy little space, isn’t it?”
Chapter Nine
A Bit of Leather Cord
“It’s all we could fix up this late in the season. This and the stables— It’s all we got for now. But come spring, we’re meaning to add on,” I said.
Irene shrugged as if she didn’t care one bit.
“This is a good, solid little house. I reckon you’ll be comfortable. It doesn’t take much time or wood to keep a small space heated…and clean. Seems like Clarence is always bringing wood in for our place, and I’m always sweeping and mopping.” She laughed.
“You and Clarence have a nice place, that’s certain.”
Irene nodded. “’Tis nice, but it’s a lot to keep clean. Never mind. What I’m here about is that Clarence and I wanted to invite you over for Christmas Eve.”
Oscar and I blinked at Irene in surprise.
“That’s only four days away. I hope you haven’t planned anything?” she said, when we didn’t answer right away.
“No, we haven’t,” I said. “That’s mighty kind of you. Are you sure Clarence is okay with it?” I couldn’t help asking, since he’d seen less than friendly the couple of times we’d seen him.
Irene rolled her eyes. “Clarence is an old grouch, but he likes to keep me happy, so he’s agreed to have you over.”
“I see,” I said, grinning at the way she seemed to find Clarence’s stoic coldness amusing.
“Jimmy, can we?” Oscar said, then cleared his throat and scratched at his chin, widening his stance. “I mean, that sounds just fine. I think we should go.”
He glanced at Irene to see if she’d noticed his initial deference. But she didn’t seem to have marked it. She turned to me and raised her eyebrows.
“What do you say, Jimmy? We’ve got three bags of sweet potatoes in the cellar and I’m gonna make a pie. Maybe a cake, too. It’s Christmas, after all.”
Well, I couldn’t resist that smile, to be honest. I inclined my chin. “That would be nice.”
Irene clapped her gloved hands together. “Wonderful! Why don’t you ride over in the morning on the twenty-fourth, as soon as you’re done your chores? We’ll spend the day telling stories, playing games and eating good food. Does that sound nice?”
Oscar’s eyes had glazed o’er at Irene’s words, and I almost started drooling myself.
“That sounds… I mean.” I glanced at Oscar. “We’d like that very much.”
“Oh, I’m so very glad,” Irene said.
“Now, ma’am, I was planning to go hunting for something good to cook Oscar for Christmas Day. Did you want me to see if I could get a goose or a turkey or something, for Christmas Eve?”
