Western Christmas Brides: A Bride and Baby for Christmas / Miss Christina's Christmas Wish / A Kiss from the Cowboy

“H—Mrs. Olsen, what are you doing here? Is everything all right at Brett’s place?”

The genuine concern in his eyes made her heart swell. “Everything is fine,” she said. “Brett and Fiona say hello.” Holding up the basket, she said, “I have something for Ab—Miss White.”

“What?” Abigail asked.

Ignoring Abigail’s tone and glare, Hannah held her smile in place. “May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the counter.

“Of course,” Teddy said. “Allow me.” He took the basket and set it on the counter.

While removing the cloth, Hannah said, “I made an etching of the children’s recital for you to include with your article.”

“Teddy has already completed the typeset for this week’s edition,” Abigail said, stepping up behind the counter. “We won’t be able to use it.”

Refusing to allow her disappointment to show, and seeing how Teddy was preparing to protest, Hannah said, “I understand. I told the children I may not have it completed in time.” Taking the children’s drawings out of the basket, she handed them to Abigail. “They asked me to give you these either way.”

She’d purposefully put Wyatt’s letter on the top of the pile. Frowning, Abigail started flipping through the pieces of paper.

“Some of the children are too young to write, so they drew pictures,” Hannah explained.

Teddy leaned across the counter and picked up Wyatt’s letter. “‘Dear Miss White. I haven’t read the article yet, but thank you for writing about our recital. It was fun and my ma and pa are going to like seeing my picture in the paper. Sincerely, your friend, Wyatt Blackwell.’”

Hannah smiled at how well Teddy had deciphered some of the misspelled words.

He picked up another one that said Abigail was a very good reporter, and another one that said having their picture in the paper was very exciting. That usually only outlaws got their pictures in newspapers.

Laughing at that one, Teddy picked up the one that Rhett had drawn. It was of several small stick people and one large one with “thank you” written at the bottom. “These are adorable.” Transferring his smiling eyes toward his sister, he said, “Aren’t they, Abigail?”

Abigail didn’t respond, but did seem to be concentrating on a longer letter written by one of the older children. Hannah knew the letter. It was from Patty Owens and claimed she’d like to become a reporter someday.

“May I see the etching?” Teddy asked.

“Of course,” Hannah replied, taking it and the corresponding drawing out of the basket. “I listed all of the children on the drawing,” she said. “In case you were able to print it and wanted to include their names.”

“Wow,” he said, examining the block of wood. “I recognize each one of the children. We have to print it.” Handing it to his sister, he said, “Don’t we?”

Abigail didn’t reply, but took the etching.

“I’m afraid it’s larger than any others I’ve done, but I had to make it that big to fit everyone in.”

“It’s perfect,” Teddy said. “Perfect.”

Hannah’s stomach was still churning and she couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath—that was due to standing so close to Teddy. She had thought long and hard about the list he’d given back to her, and how she couldn’t marry any of those men. She’d told herself she’d created the etchings because of Abigail, but in truth, she’d made them because of Teddy. He was so kind and generous and deserved that in return.

Pulling her trailing thoughts back to the task at hand, she reached into the basket. “I made another etching, Abigail.” The other woman’s name hadn’t rolled off her tongue easily and she hoped no one had noticed that. Handing Abigail the small etching, Hannah said, “I made this one of you, in case you’d like to use it.”

Abigail took the block of wood, and Hannah’s stomach completely flip-flopped. Drawing Abigail from memory had been easy. The hard part had been softening her features to make her look as attractive as possible. While drawing, she’d focused on the feature Teddy and Abigail shared—their eyes. So rather than squinting, she’d drawn Abigail’s eyes as round and prominent as Teddy’s were. She’d also changed Abigail’s hair a smidgen. Rather than having it pulled back so tightly, she’d loosened it and drawn a few stray curls near her temples, but had made sure the pencil behind one ear was still visible.

Nervous beyond compare, Hannah said, “My thought had been that you might like to use it if you wanted to print one of the thank-you notes from the children. If there was room in the newspaper, of course.”

Abigail glanced up from the etching, and for the first time ever, there wasn’t loathing in her eyes.

Swallowing a hiccup, Hannah handed Abigail the final piece of paper out of the basket. “Here’s the corresponding drawing.” It was much larger than the etching.

Abigail placed a hand over her mouth as she took the paper with her other hand and stared at it.

Not sure what to do next, Hannah lifted the pie out of the basket. “I brought this, too,” she said to Teddy. “You left before having any dessert on Thanksgiving.”

* * *

Teddy had never seen such a genuine act of kindness in his life, and may never witness one that would compare to this if he lived to be a hundred and one. He wanted to force Abigail to respond, to say something positive, but had accepted Abigail was her own person and needed to accept her own responsibilities.

So did he. “Thank you,” he said. “I was sorry to have missed tasting your pumpkin pie. I believe I’ll have a piece even before I start pulling type.”

“No.”

Teddy balled his hands into fists at Abigail’s voice, and at Hannah’s dejected look. To her credit, she never faltered in putting the cloth back into the basket.

“I’ll pull type, Teddy,” Abigail said. “While you escort Hannah home before Brett and Fiona start to worry about her.”

“That’s not necessary,” Hannah said.

As Abigail stacked the letters from the children into a pile, she said, “It’s the least we can do.”

Teddy was surprised, but agreed. “It is the least we can do.”

“These,” Abigail said, while picking up both etchings, “are amazing, and we will print them in this edition. Thank you for making them. And thank you for bringing them over this morning.”

Relief washed over Teddy, especially as Hannah’s face took on a glow as she placed a hand on her stomach.

“You’re very welcome,” Hannah said. “The children were so excited about the prospect.”

“We’ll print extra copies,” Teddy said, “so they each get their very own copy.”

“They’ll like that,” Hannah answered.

“Teddy,” Abigail said, “shouldn’t you get your coat so you can walk Hannah home?”

“Really, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is,” Teddy said, almost afraid to leave the two women alone. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He hurried around the counter and then through a doorway into the back of the building to grab his coat. Rushing back toward the office, he heard Abigail speak again.

“This was very thoughtful of you,” she said. “Very thoughtful.”

He entered the room as Hannah lifted the basket off the counter.

“I—I sincerely appreciate you providing me with the opportunity to make etchings for the newspaper,” she said. “It’s helped me and my situation considerably. More than you know.”