Disclaimer:  I don't own the characters from The Sentinel or Power Rangers.  They are/were owned by Pet Fly, Inc. and Saban respectively.  I am not a professional author making any sort of money off this story, it was written for non profit pleasure.

 

Notes and Timeline:  Part of the Cascade Tribe Series.  Another ‘flashback’ type story for the holiday season.  Seems to be becoming my own little tradition.  Merry Christmas to all.

 

A New Home For Christmas

By Mele

 

Simon delivered the telegram just before suppertime, finding the whole Ellison clan getting ready to sit down for the evening meal.

 

“Sorry to interrupt, Jim, but I figured you’d want this as soon as possible,” the big sheriff said, handing over the message.

 

“Thanks, Simon,” Jim muttered as he unfolded the paper and read the brief message inside.  He sighed deeply as he almost reverently refolded the missive, tucking it absently in his shirt pocket.

 

“Jim?”  Blair’s voice carried both concern and curiosity, and the older man looked over at him with an oddly sad little half-smile.

 

“Looks like we’re getting another member to the family,” he announced in the unnatural quiet. 

 

“Oh?  When?”  That was Hannah, who helped the two bachelors raise the six orphans they’d adopted.  The first five had come to live with them three years before, the only survivors of a brutal attack on their wagon train.  Early this year had brought them Jason, the son of an old friend of Simon and Jim. 

 

"That train to San Francisco comes through tomorrow morning, right, Simon?"  At the sheriff's nod Ellison continued.  "I'll leave on that, catch another train into Arizona.  The girl is in Mesa, if I'm lucky that'll be on the train's route.  If not, I'll just hire a horse and wagon and pick her up."

 

"It's another girl?" Zack asked, sounding decidedly disappointed.

 

"Yeah.  She's about the same age as you guys."  The six children were all eight years old.

 

"How'd anyone know to contact you?  You know the family?" Hannah asked, naturally curious but not sounding the slightest bit judgmental.

 

"I knew her mother; promised her a couple of years ago that I'd take the girl if anything happened to her.  She'd just found out she had consumption, that's why she moved to Arizona.  The doctors told her to.  She was determined to fight her disease, but I guess…" his voice trailed off with a little sigh.

 

"That poor child!  And here it is less than a week before Christmas.  You think you can get her back here by then?"  Hannah's warm heart couldn't bear the thought of what the little girl had to be suffering; losing her mother right before the holiday.

 

"I hate to take off right now, but I don't want her to be alone any longer than necessary.  According to this telegram, they'll take her to the orphanage until I arrive.  You'll be okay taking care of everything here, Chief?" he asked his so far silent guide.

 

"Don't even worry about it, Jim.  Go.  Get the girl, bring her home.  The kids and Hannah and I can handle everything here," Blair agreed readily, his blue eyes warm with sympathy for the child he had yet to meet.

 

"And I'll keep an eye on them, too," Simon added, giving the mischievous youngsters a mock-stern glare.  Not one of them was in the slightest bit impressed with the Sheriff's efforts.

 

"What's the new girl's name?" Trini queried after a moment.

 

"Kim.  Kimberly Ann Hart.  And that is enough about that for now.  Has everyone cleaned up for supper?  Simon, would you like to stay and have a bite to eat?  Zack, go bring one of the extra chairs in, and Aisha, please set another place at the table."

 

Soon the spacious dining room was filled with lively conversation punctuated by the occasional burst of childish laughter.  And if Jim Ellison seemed a little more quiet than usual - a trifle more subdued - only Blair noticed, and he held his concern for later, when they could talk alone.

 

~*~

 

“So, Jim, who was she?” Blair asked quietly, after having silently watched Jim pack for five minutes.

 

“Just someone I knew a long time ago,” the older man replied shortly.

 

“Someone who was important to you,” Sandburg contradicted evenly.

 

“At the time…yes.  But we’re talking nearly eighteen years ago, Chief.  That’s a long time; things change…people change.”

 

The younger man remained silent, his sympathetic gaze following his friend as he restlessly paced.  Finally the Sentinel sighed in defeat.

 

“Her name was Clarice.  I met her in Portland; she was working in a saloon there.  I was seventeen, with too much money and too little good sense, looking for adventure and to get away from this place.  She was beautiful; tiny…barely came up to the middle of my chest…red hair that seemed to glow from within.  Big brown eyes and a voice like an angel.  Just twenty years old herself, she was my first.  I knew what she was, knew what she did…hell, I’d paid her myself.  But still, I fell for her.  Fell hard.  And I thought she felt the same way.”  The big man paused, looking out his bedroom window with a distant expression.

 

“We spent time together each day, taking picnics, rides, walking together, whatever we could find to do.  I bought her small trinkets and gifts, just to make her smile.  And at night…I paid each night, but told myself it was just to keep her from getting in trouble with the saloon owner, until I could take her away from that life.  Finally, I got a job at a local ranch, found a small farm for sale that I thought I could afford, figured I could work the ranch during the day, the farm at night, support us both that way.  Christ, I was an idiot…” he trailed off moodily, sitting down on the edge of his bed and rubbing the area between his eyes as if it hurt.

 

“I came in to tell her my big plans, just in time to see her going upstairs with some drunk, dirty cowboy.  I raced up there and pulled him away, told her she didn’t have to do that anymore, that I’d be taking care of her.  I laid out my plans to free her from that life.  Whew, you wouldn’t believe the temper that little girl had.  She informed me in no uncertain terms that if she wanted to spend her life toiling on some dirt farm, working sunup to sundown, she’d have stayed with her parents.  She was going to have a career as a singer, and if this was the price she had to pay for her chance, then so be it.  And that I was a pure fool for thinking she felt any desire for me outside the money she could make providing her services.  All this with an entire bar of strangers looking on.  I think I got a full lifetime's worth of humiliation in the space of ten minutes.  I slunk out of there, got on my horse, and left Portland behind.  It was probably five years before I ever went back there, and by then she was long gone.”

 

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Blair said simply, honestly hurting for the youth he’d been so long ago.

 

“Well, it turned out for the best.  Still, at the time I thought I’d never get over it.  In time…a decade or so…the hurt faded,” Jim noted wryly.

 

“You said you promised to take care of her daughter a couple of years ago?” Sandburg prompted.

 

“Yeah, I ran into her in San Francisco.  Remember when we went there looking for Ed Moore?  When you were checking with the newspaper office, I had dropped in to see the sheriff.  When I was leaving I literally bumped into her.  She was hurrying down the sidewalk with a little girl in tow, and I swear she nearly fainted when she recognized me.  But, as always, Clarice was nothing if not quick.  She introduced me to her daughter, and invited me to join her for a cup of tea at a nearby hotel where she’d been staying.  She sent Kimberly on up to their room, then just prattled on about how she’d finally fulfilled her dream, she’d been performing with a theatre troupe for the last five years or so.  She asked about what I was doing, told me about Kimberly, just inconsequential things.  It wasn’t until I was about to excuse myself that she told me she was sick.”

 

“She just sprung it on you?” Sandburg asked with some surprise.

 

“Yeah.  She didn’t look like she was sick.  Maybe a bit underweight, but then again, she’d always been petite.  I’d told her about the kids; even shown her the picture of them when she’d expressed her disbelief.  I guess that’s what gave her the idea to make her request.  Said her parents were dead; not that it mattered since they’d disowned her anyway.  She didn’t know who Kimberly’s father was, the girl was the result of her not being careful, or so she said.  Despite the circumstances, it was plain that Clarice was devoted to her daughter, and there was no way I could refuse her request.  Just no way…” he trailed off sadly.

 

“Nor should you have.  You did the right thing, Jim.  No question there.  We can give her a good home, some stability, and a lot of love.  Not the same as having her mom alive, I know, but still better than an orphanage.  How…how are you feeling?” he wondered, knowing full well his friend’s carefully hidden soft side.

 

“Ah, hell, I don’t know, Chief.  It was a long time ago, like I said.  Still…knowing she’s really gone now, that hurts.  A lot.  More than I expected it to.  But I’m not the important thing here, little Kimberly is.  And if I’m going to be in town in time to catch that train I need to get some sleep.  So if you’re finished…?” he gestured to the door with an expectant expression.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.  Look, you sure you don’t want any company?” Blair knew it would be hard on the kids if he left as well, but he felt he had to offer.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure, Blair.  But thank you.  Now go get some sleep, Junior.  You’re going to be in charge here, and they will definitely run you ragged,” he grinned, enjoying Sandburg’s exaggerated shudder of fear.

 

“Oh, geez, fine.  I’m going, I’m going,” he grumbled, eluding Jim’s teasing swat at his head.  “Good night, Jim.”

 

“Night, Chief.” 

 

Still, despite his weariness, it was hours before Ellison drifted into a troubled sleep filled with dreams of the beautiful woman-child who had enchanted him so long ago.

 

~*~

 

San Francisco was a bustling, busy place; already twice the size Jim remembered it as being.  He spent a miserable three-hour layover there, sipping a drink at a nearby saloon, his senses all dialed way down in deference to the overabundance of stimuli.  The ceaseless rumble and stench of the train was nearly pleasant after the city.

 

By the time he stepped out onto the platform in Mesa he was more exhausted than he would have been had he ridden the way on horseback.  Despite his desire to be heading home as quickly as possible he went first to the local hotel to secure a room and clean up.  Then it was on to the sheriff's office, as per the telegram's instructions, to find out where he could pick up Kimberly.

 

Entering the small office, which sat tucked in between a gunsmith's shop and a general store, Jim found the sheriff alone, sitting behind his desk and whittling some kind of small animal out of a dark piece of wood.

 

"Sheriff Langley?"

 

"That'd be me.  Who might you be?" the man asked setting, aside his woodcraft and sitting up straight in his chair.

 

"Jim Ellison, from Cascade, Washington.  Came in response to a telegram you sent."

 

"Ah, Mr. Ellison, you came sooner than I expected," the sheriff replied, standing up to shake Jim's hand before waving him to a seat. 

 

"I didn't figure the little girl needed to be left too long in the orphanage.  I can't imagine this has been easy for her," Ellison commented, setting his hat on the corner of the desk.

 

"Oh, boy, you've got that right.  Her mama doted on her, and the feeling was completely mutual.  Little Kimberly's been through hell the last few days.  Hell, the last few months.  She wouldn't leave her mama; if they tried to keep her away she'd find a way to sneak in.  In the end it was easier to not try to deny her wishes; after all, it was Clarice's wish, too," Langley explained, polishing his glasses on his shirt.

 

"Who're 'they'?" Jim wanted to know.

 

"They are the folks what run the sanatorium where Clarice ended up when her disease got to be too much.  When she first got here she was able to rent a small house for herself and the girl, but about three months ago she collapsed, and Kimberly is just too darn small to be able to take care of a sick adult, even her mama."

 

"Sounds like you know her pretty well."  Jim didn't expect the small stab of jealousy at that thought, and certainly hadn't wanted it to creep into his tone.

 

“It’s a small town, I know most of the folks.  But you’re right, I took a special interest in Clarice.  I guess maybe in a different situation I would have looked toward marrying her, giving Kimberly a daddy.  But the situation wasn’t different, and the best I could do was be a friend to them, so a friend I was.  I still am.  Which is why you’re sitting here jawing with me.  What was your relationship with Clarice?” he asked, settling his ample bulk back in his chair and studying the man in front of him.

 

“I knew her a long time ago.  Then a couple of years back I ran into her in San Francisco, she told me about being ill, and Kimberly.  Asked me to take care of the little girl should something happen to her.  And I’m guessing you already knew this, since you telegraphed me,” Jim concluded with a challenging look.

 

“More or less.  She said you had a family now, had adopted some kids.  You still carrying a picture?” Langley wondered.

 

Knowing full well what the sheriff was looking for, Jim withdrew a small picture they’d had taken the previous summer, showing the six children, along with Blair, Hannah and Jim.  Without comment he handed the photograph over.

 

“Hmmm…I thought she said you had five young ‘uns.”

 

“I adopted Jason early this year,” Ellison explained, pointing to a little boy with dark hair and a fair complexion.  Unconsciously the Sentinel’s expression relaxed and his light blue eyes softened as he gazed at the photo of his family.  Langley noticed the change and any lingering doubts he had about this stoic man in front of him dissipated.  This was a man who loved his children.

 

“Now that is a fine-looking group of youngsters. And who are these other two adults?”

 

“Blair is a good friend, helps me run the ranch.  I guess you could say we’re business partners, and he’s an honorary uncle to the kids.  Hannah works for me, tending the house and children.  I figured I’d need help handling the girls at least,” Jim admitted, smiling a little.  Little boys were easy enough for him to figure out, but the girls presented a problem in logic the big man was not prepared for.

 

“Nice setup.  And you have enough room for Kimberly?”

 

“Absolutely.”  Jim paused, studying the sheriff.  “And you needn’t worry that she’ll be lost in the shuffle.  None of the kids are ignored or neglected.”

 

Langley laughed at that comment.  “You’ve obviously not met young Miss Kimberly.  Believe me, I KNOW she won’t get lost in the shuffle.  She may not have inherited her mama’s red hair, but she definitely got her spirit.  That little one won’t stand for being ignored.”

 

“Ah…do I sense a warning there?” Ellison couldn’t help but grin.

 

“Perhaps.  Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great kid, she really is.  But Clarice may have doted on her a bit much, you understand?  Said Kim was one of only two people she’d ever really loved in her life.”  The sheriff’s eyes were sad at the thought.

 

“That’s a pity.  Wonder who the other one was?”  Jim wasn’t really expecting an answer; he was just remembering a beautiful young woman with a seemingly bright future, and a fierce desire to realize her dreams.

 

“You don’t know?”  Langley looked surprised.

 

“I’d hope it was Kimberly’s father, but Clarice indicated that wasn’t the case.”

 

“Good God, Ellison.  It was you.  She used to talk about you sometimes, about how much she’d loved you, and how she destroyed that love.  She said at the time she thought it was the right thing to do, but it ended up being the only regret of her life.  Honestly – and she was very honest about her past to me – she didn’t regret the time she spent in that saloon in Portland, having Kimberly, lying and backstabbing to get ahead in her career.  Hell, she didn’t even regret getting sick; said she figured it was a sort of justice.  But she regretted losing you, hurting you.  She told me how you were just a kid, but even then she knew you were special, meant for special things.  Said she wished she’d be around to know the man you’d grown into.  She said it was the only decision she made in her life she wanted to change: telling you to leave.  You didn’t know?”  Langley’s expression was sympathetic in the face of Ellison’s grief.

 

“No.”  It was impossible to tell if that was an answer to his question or a denial of what he’d been told.  Jim felt an old, unused corner of his heart come back to painful life; the realization of just how much he’d lost so long ago hurt more than he would have ever believed.

 

An awkward silence filled the small office for a few minutes, until Langley cleared his throat, getting the Sentinel’s attention.  “Guess I should take you on out to get Kimberly now.  I reckon you’ll be wanting to get home before Christmas if possible.”

 

“Yeah,” Jim replied, his voice roughened by emotion. 

 

They stood together and headed out; within minutes they reached the orphanage on the outskirts of town.  The quiet walk had given Ellison a chance to settle his emotions so he could present a calm presence to the little girl.  A tall, rawboned woman swathed in a nun’s habit met them at the door with a serene smile.

 

“Sheriff, what brings you to our home?” she queried even as she ushered them into her office.

 

“Sister, this here’s Jim Ellison.  He’s come for Kimberly Hart, he’s the one her mama wanted to have her.”

 

The woman turned her curious gaze to the Sentinel, checking him over from head to foot, at last catching his gaze with her own steady one.  Jim felt like the woman could see right inside him, a rather unsettling sensation.  After a moment her smile returned, sunnier than before.

 

“I’ll go get the child.  Please, have a seat.”  With that she swept out of the room, leaving the two men to perch on straight back wooden chairs in front of a huge desk.

 

“Whew, guess I passed inspection,” Jim muttered to Langley.

 

“No joke there, Ellison.  She’s a shrewd one, and if she had any feeling she couldn’t trust you she’d have let you know.  And then some.”

 

"It's good such a woman is taking care of the children here, then.  I wish there were more that cared as much.  Did she know Clarice?"  Jim asked, idly curious.

 

"Yes.  For a time they tried to keep Kimberly here, while her mama was still alive.  But, like I said, the girl kept getting away, coming back to see Clarice.  Sister Bernice ended up getting to know them both quite well, gave Clarice some comfort in her final days.  And yes, she also knew about Clarice's past.  And never held it against her.  Sister Bernice is nothing if not a realist.  Oh, here she is," Langley concluded, indicating the small girl being ushered in by the tall nun.

 

Jim's first thought was that he should have told Hannah to make a smaller dress.  Before he'd left Hannah was hurrying to assemble enough material to make a new dress for Kimberly, as she had for the other three girls.  Not having seen the youngster in two years, he'd suggested another in Aisha's size, since she was the smallest of the girls they had.  Now he saw it would still be way too big.

 

"Kimberly, this is Mr. Ellison.  He's come to take you home with him, like your mama wanted," Sister Bernice said, gently urging the girl forward.

 

Jim remained seated, not wanting to intimidate the child.  As Langley had pointed out, Kimberly had not inherited her mother's red hair, but she did have the soft brown eyes and clean, delicate features.  The girl just missed having the beauty her mother had possessed, but still, it was obvious she would grow into a very pretty woman.  There was a nearly palpable aura of sorrow surrounding the child, sadly out of place amongst the Christmas decorations adorning the office.

 

“Hello, Mr. Ellison,” Kim greeted the big man, solemn eyes downcast.

 

“Hello, Kimberly.  I see the sheriff was right, you do look like your mama,” Jim replied in a soft voice.

 

It appeared that was the right thing to say; Kimberly looked back up at him with a hopeful look.  “Really?”

 

“Yeah, really.  You’ve got her big brown eyes, and little upturned nose, and if that hair of yours was red you’d nearly be her twin.”

 

“She was so pretty, you know, before she got sick,” the little girl said sadly.

 

“She was beautiful, just like you,” Ellison agreed.

 

“I’m not beautiful, not like Mama.  But thank you for saying so.”  Kimberly had obviously been well taught in the manners department.

 

“Your mama wanted you to come to Cascade and live with me and my family.  I have six other children, and a housekeeper to help take care of things.  That sound okay to you?”  He had a feeling it would help Kimberly if she felt less like a powerless pawn being controlled by the adults around her.

 

Kimberly seemed to consider it for a few minutes, then turned to Jim with a puzzled look.  “Why do you want me?”

 

Jim was more than a little surprised by that question; obviously this was a youngster accustomed to being very straightforward. 

 

“Right now, mostly because your mama asked me to take you, and because once, a long time ago, I loved her.  She loved you, and wanted you to have every chance at a happy, secure future.  I think I can provide that for you.  AND, I’m betting in time – very likely a short time – I’ll love you too, just because you’re you.  I’ve noticed that’s how it seems to work.”

 

Kimberly thought that over carefully.  “I guess I could give it a try,” she decided at length.

 

“Thank you,” the Sentinel replied, quite seriously.  “If you want to get your things and say goodbye to the Sisters and other children, we can leave whenever you’re ready.”

 

“Okay.  May I be excused?” she turned to Sister Bernice.

 

“Of course, my Dear.  Do what you need to and meet us back here, please.”

 

The three adults watched the petite figure depart, struck by the adultness of her demeanor.

 

“You handled that well, Mr. Ellison.  Kimberly is not the sort who takes well to pretty lies; her mother often treated her as if she were a small adult.  In fact, it would be nice to see her behave more like a child.  It’s good she’s going to a family with more children,” the nun observed.

 

“Thank you, Sister.  For all you’ve done for her and your assistance.  I promise you, I’ll do all I can for Kimberly, see that the rest of her childhood is as happy as possible,” Jim replied, standing as he heard the girl coming back down the stairs.  “That didn’t take long.”

 

“She didn’t really make any friends here,” Sister Bernice whispered as Kimberly approached.  “Do you have everything you need, Child?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.  Thank you.  And Merry Christmas,” Kim said, reaching out as if to shake the nun’s hand, but not objecting when she was pulled into a warm hug.

 

“God be with you, Kimberly Hart.  Have a wonderful life.”

 

~*~

 

The walk back to the hotel was quiet, and Jim ushered his newest charge upstairs, glad to set down the large valise the child had brought along.  Kimberly sat down on the bed nearest the door, staring around with a decided lack of interest.

 

"Guess you've seen plenty of hotels, traveling with your mom all those years," Jim noted, looking down at her from where he stood beside the tall dresser.

 

"Yeah.  A lot.  This one isn't very grand, but Miss Moffett, the owner, she works hard to make it nice as she can.  And she keeps it respectable, no riff raff is allowed.  I used to work here in the afternoons, helping with the cleaning to pay for Mama's medicine.  Can I go downstairs later to say goodbye to her?  When are we leaving, anyway?"

 

"We'll be catching the train tomorrow morning, back to San Francisco, then on up to Cascade.  That's where I live…we live.  And of course you can say goodbye to Miss Moffett; in fact I was thinking some dinner would go down real well right now.  You hungry?" 

 

"A little.  Thank you," she replied timidly.  Jim didn't push her, knowing she'd gain confidence faster if he acted normally and didn't respond to her nervousness.

 

"Well, then, let's go see what she has to offer this evening."  He held the door open for his dainty companion, noting that she had automatically waited for him to open it. Yep, she was definitely well trained in ladylike deportment.  Jim couldn't help a mental chuckle at the thought of how Aisha and Tanya - both of whom were quite the tomboys - would react to this feminine behavior.  

 

They took a table near the fireplace, and soon all the employees had trooped by to bid Kimberly farewell.  A still warm bundle of fresh biscuits and dried beef was pressed upon Jim by the chef, who hugged the child to his chest, unashamed of the tears gleaming in his eyes.

 

Miss Stella Moffett, the owner and Kimberly's former employer, spent nearly a half hour visiting with them while tactfully grilling Ellison about his intentions regarding the girl.  Jim, who took some pride in Blair's title of 'Blessed Protector', found himself in the unaccustomed position of facing others who filled the same role in this youngster's life.

 

"Is there anyone in this town you DON'T know?" Jim queried when they had at last returned to their room.

 

"I'm sorry.  I guess I just made a lot of friends," Kim admitted, looking a bit abashed.

 

"It's not a problem, Sweetheart.  I'm glad so many folks are ready to look after you, actually.  I'm hoping that means your mama also had friends?"  He looked curiously at his companion.

 

"Some."  A frown marred the smooth forehead of the girl, while she chewed anxiously on her lower lip.

 

"What's wrong?"  Ellison's voice was just a whisper of sound in the still room.

 

"Are…are the others going to know about Mama?" she asked at length.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You know…will they know about what Mama was…BEFORE."  Her meaning was now clear to the Sentinel.

 

"They will know only what you or I tell them, Honey, nothing else.  Why?  Did someone give you a hard time here?"

 

"When I was going to school, they did.  Timmy Jerkens, his dad recognized Mama, and he told everyone she was a bad woman.  And they called me names, said I was bad, too.  But Mama wasn't bad…she WASN'T.  She was a good mama, it wasn't her fault she got sick and had to go away.  And it wasn't my fault, either…" she looked up at Jim with tear-filled eyes, her bottom lip quivering.  "She was good.  She was!"

 

"Shhh…shhh…" he picked up the small child and sat down on the far bed, holding her close.  "I know she was a good person, I know.  You're right, there was nothing bad about her, or about you. You don't ever listen to anyone who tries to tell you different.  Your mama loved you more than anything, and you loved her, and anyone who wants to say something bad about either one of you is an idiot.  It's okay, I've got you," he soothed her as well as he could while biting back most of his anger.  Damn, he knew children could be cruel, but to taunt a child whose beloved mother was dying?  That was too much.

 

Gradually Kimberly calmed, pulling away from Jim a little embarrassed at having lost control.  She went to pull back the covers on the bed nearest the door, only to be stopped by her companion.

 

"That one's mine, kiddo.  You get this one over here," he instructed her, indicating the inside bed.

 

"Oh.  Sorry.  I forgot."

 

"Forgot?  I never mentioned that to you, did I?" he asked.

 

"No, Sir.  My mama always insisted on the bed by the door.  It's a protection thing.  She said so."  A spark of humor and spirit was already returning to the tired brown eyes.

 

"Well, as we already established, your mama was a very smart woman.  Now go on and get yourself ready for bed, we are facing an early morning."

 

He couldn't help but chuckle at how she looked warningly at him before going behind the privacy screen in the corner to change.  Already he felt like he'd established a tentative connection with this child, and for just a moment he allowed himself to imagine that Kimberly was his and Clarice's child, in a world that had never existed, where Clarice had nothing to regret.

 

~*~

 

The next morning found them waiting on the train platform, the early morning sunshine slowly beginning to raise the temperatures to a more comfortable level.  Typically, Jim had made sure they were ready to go with a more than adequate allowance for unexpected delays.  Kimberly was quiet and withdrawn, studying her boot-clad feet when not looking out toward the north end of town.  Noticing the child's gaze was once again on something in the distance, Ellison trained his own augmented vision in the same direction.  He sighed in sudden pain as he realized what the girl needed, but was apparently hesitant to ask for.

 

"Come on, Kimberly," he said, holding out a hand to her.  "If we hurry, we have just enough time to stop by and say goodbye to your mama."

 

Grateful brown eyes looked up at him as started toward the north end of town, her small hand held firmly in his large one.  It was still early enough for the main street to be mostly deserted, and the few folks out and about ignored the mismatched duo marching so purposefully along the sidewalk. 

 

The cemetery was remarkably well maintained, the fence had been recently whitewashed and the paths between the markers were lined with good-sized stones.  Clarice Amelia Hart's earthly remains would spend eternity beneath a small stone statue of a harp, with the legend 'Heaven Has Another Angel' arching over it.  Her name and dates of birth and death were carved below, and a cheery bouquet of purple silk flowers rested at its base.

 

"I bought those at the mercantile, purple was her favorite color," Kim said softly, carefully checking that the flowers were secure. 

 

"They're beautiful," he replied, at a loss for anything else to say.  He was struggling with his own sorrow; the sight of her name carved on the stone brought it painfully home to him that she really was dead.  The beautiful young woman she'd been was truly no more; and faint dreams of a possible reconciliation - dreams he'd not even realized he'd had - were dashed against that hard reality.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a train, not even close enough for normal hearing but clearly audible to Sentinel senses.  A gentle touch to Kimberly's shoulder brought her out of her own reverie, and wordlessly they started back toward the train station.  Once there it was a flurry of activity gathering their bags and getting settled on board.  Throughout the child remained mainly silent, and Jim gave her a worried glance from time to time.

 

It wasn't until they were underway and the conductor had taken their tickets that Jim had a chance to really study the youngster.  Tears gleamed in the doe eyes, and she seemed unusually pale.  The occasional sniffle and sigh added to the impression of total misery surrounding the girl.  That desolation was more than Jim could bear to see.

 

"Come here, Honey," he urged her, pulling her gently into his lap.  She came willingly enough, leaning her head wearily against his broad shoulder.

 

"It hurts," she whispered, her hand against her chest.  "I miss her so much."

 

"I know.  But…you want to know what a wise friend of mine said once?" he asked, looking down at her encouragingly.

 

"What?"

 

"He said that the reason your heart hurts after someone you love dies isn't because your heart is breaking.  He said that it hurt because it was getting bigger, so that person would have enough room to live in your heart forever.  It's a growing pain, and when it stops hurting that means the person has enough space now and has moved right on in.  And they'll never move out, no matter what.  That's what he told me."

 

The skin between Kimberly's dark eyebrows crinkled as she thought that over.  Finally she looked back up at her companion with a smile of her own ghosting at the corners of her mouth.  "I like that idea.  And my mama?  She loved rearranging places to suit her.  I bet she's going to need a LOT of room.  What do you think?"

 

"I think that sounds about right, and that your heart will be plenty big enough for her soon."

 

"How far away is Cascade?" she asked after while, moving back over to her own seat.

 

"Pretty far.  We won't be there until late tomorrow," the Sentinel told her.

 

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah, it is.  It'll be nice to be home for Christmas, but seems this year I got my present a few days early," Jim commented.

 

"Oh?  What'd you get?" she asked, looking at their bags curiously.

 

"I got a new daughter, of course," he grinned, enjoying her look of startled pleasure.

 

"Oh."  She seemed to be out of words, instead she just glanced up at him, then down at her feet.  Moments later she repeated the glance, smiling a little while she did so.  It took a bit, but suddenly the big man realized just what it was he was seeing.

 

The little imp was flirting with him.

 

Keeping his face impassive, he mentally groaned.  This was something he was not prepared for, and now he realized that this child - raised for the first eight years of her life by a single mother in a rather indulgent and free atmosphere and primarily amongst adults - would be a unique challenge.

 

~*~

 

“Aren’t your other children going to hate me?” Kimberly asked abruptly, startling Jim out of his thoughts.  The sun was just setting as the miles rumbled by beneath the train, the monotony on the trip having sent them both into a semi dozing state.

 

“Huh?  No, of course they won’t hate you.  Whatever gave you that notion?” he wondered.

 

“I don’t know…sometimes Mama would get a boyfriend, and sometimes he had kids from before.  And they never liked me, you know?  Mama, she’d say they were nice, that they’d be nice to me…but then when no one was looking, they’d be mean,” she explained hesitantly, looking out the window rather than at Jim.

 

“Hey, look at me,” he said kindly, leaning over to touch her knee.  Once he had her attention he spoke firmly, but gently.  “No one is our family is allowed to be unkind to each other, or anyone else, for that matter.  And, Kimberly, you became a member of our family when that telegram arrived.  Everyone is excited about you coming to live with us, I think you’re going to find you’ll be accepted warmly.”  He paused for a moment, thinking.

 

“I know you’re used to being an only child, but those days are in the past.  I suspect you’ll find you both miss and not miss those days.  We’ll make allowances for you getting used to us, and being in a large family, but you WILL be expected to adjust.  I expect you’ll learn – just as we all have – that more people means more love.  And more arguments.  And more laughter.  And more laundry.  And…I think you get the point, right?”  He smiled conspiratorially at her.

 

“Yes, Sir, I guess I do,” she grinned back, though that didn’t completely mask her lingering uneasiness.  Jim had shown her the picture of the other children the night before, and she found herself nervous about meeting them all.

 

“Ah, that’s another thing,” he continued.  “I’m not ‘Sir’.  The kids settled on calling me Papa Jim, which is how I would prefer you to address me.”

 

“Papa Jim?”

 

“Yeah, it’s not quite ‘Papa’, and not quite ‘Jim’, or so Zack says.”

 

“Jim’s your first name?  Is it really…James?” she queried with a puzzled look.

 

“James Joseph Ellison, as a matter of fact.”

 

“Oh.  You’re James.  I didn’t know,” she said softly, looking at Jim with a strange expression on her small face.

 

“Didn’t know what?”

 

“My full name is Kimberly Jamie Hart.  Mama always said my middle name was in honor of the man she’d loved and lost.  She said it was her fault she lost you, but why did you let it happen?  If you’d stayed she might have not have gotten sick.  I would have had a daddy, and we would have lived in a real house with a white fence and I would have had friends and it would have been perfect!”  Her voice rose with her emotions, and tears welled in her eyes before rolling wetly down her pale cheeks.

 

“Hey, hey, come here,” he pulled her close again, gently countering her brief, angry struggle before she sagged onto his shoulder, crying hard.  “I’m sorry she got sick, I’m sorry we lost her, I wish things could have been different, I really and truly do.”  He was at a loss as to what comfort he might be able to offer her, faced with her unrealistic conviction that life would have been perfect if she’d had a father.  He didn’t bother to contradict her belief it was his fault he left; he knew full well this was not the time to vilify her mother, or point out it was her decision that left her alone.  To do so would be cruel to a child who was already hurting badly, so if some misplaced anger helped ease her pain any…well, he was big enough to carry that burden.  He trusted that in time she would learn the truth and be able to accept it.

 

In the way that it so often happens, once Kimberly let down the walls surrounding her grief, it ran a little wild for a bit.  It was full dark outside by the time her sobs tapered off into sniffles and the occasional hitching breath.  Pulling a clean handkerchief, he bade her dry eyes and tend her nose, continuing to run his warm hand in soothing circles on her slim back. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, leaning back into Jim’s strong arms wearily.

 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he replied calmly.  “I understand how hard things have been.”

 

She sighed deeply, her sleepy gaze falling on an evergreen wreath festooned with red ribbons that hung on the door of the car.  The light from the lanterns shone off a couple of bright brass bells that jingled merrily whenever someone passed through. 

 

“And now it’s Christmas Eve,” she sighed.

 

“So it is.  And before Christmas Eve turns into Christmas you will be in your new home, tucked into your own bed.  And I know it’s hard for you to believe this now, but you are going to be okay.  More than okay, you are going to be happy and wanted and loved.  But, for now, how about you try to accept the fact you’re wanted, and well on your way to being loved,” He kissed her pale brow gently, brushing the dark silk of her hair away from her face. 

 

“You’re not just saying that because you promised Mama?”

 

“No.  I’m saying that because I see this spirited, brave, loving girl, who is facing life with more courage and determination than most adults do.  I watched you visit with your friends at the hotel, I saw how they all cared about you, saw how they all checked me out to be sure you’d be okay with me.  I had to convince the sheriff I was a good enough man to take you away with me, even though he knew that was your mother’s wish.  Then I had to convince Sister Bernice, who I frankly found more intimidating than Sheriff Langley.  All those people were looking out for you, protecting you.  I figure the little gal who can make almost a whole town care about her…well, she must be someone special indeed.  And, I see traces of your mama in your behavior; in that way you have of flipping your hair back, in that little half smile that says you’re finding something amusing.  Yeah, I’d say there’s a lot there to love.”  He looked down at the small girl, who smiled sleepily back up at him, nestling in closer.  Barely two minutes later he heard her breathing deepen and slow into sleep.  He chuckled quietly, and then he leaned into the corner of the seat, closing his eyes to rest, impatient to be home.

 

~*~

 

Cascade was barely discernable outside the train's windows, even to Sentinel vision.  Only a few randomly scattered lanterns, and a wedge of yellow light and music from the saloon just off the main street indicated the presence of civilization.  Being Christmas Eve, the more respectable establishments had already closed their doors, and the bulk of the citizenry was tucked warmly in bed.  Jim had actually dozed off, with Kimberly still held securely in his arms, and the elderly conductor hated to waken the man.  But, their ticket said Cascade was their destination, and he doubted they'd appreciate waking up in Canada.

 

"Sir, we have arrived in Cascade," he announced, giving Ellison's shoulder a firm shake.  Icy blue eyes snapped open with instant clarity, causing the man to step back defensively.  "Sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to startle you."

 

"Not a problem, thank you for waking me," Jim sighed, shifting his burden carefully.  Kimberly was small, that was true, but still, after a time, she got pretty darned heavy and his right arm had born the bulk of her weight and was now as asleep as the youngster.

 

Seeing the passenger had his hands full enough, the conductor tipped his hat respectfully.  "Begging your pardon Sir, but if you wish, I can get your bags while you take care of the child.  No need to wake her.  I noticed someone waiting at the station, and I suspect they are meeting you?"  The lift in his voice at the end turned it into a question.

 

"That would be Sheriff Banks.  I'd appreciate your help, we have just those two bags there," he said, standing wrapping his jacket around the sleeping girl as he stood.  They made their quiet way to the door and down to the platform, where a smiling Simon Banks greeted his friend.

 

"Jim.  Welcome home.  It went well?" he queried, tilting his head at the sleeping bundle in the Sentinel's arms even as he took the two pieces of luggage from the conductor.

 

"As well as such things can go," the younger man sighed, following the sheriff down the steps and toward the waiting wagon.  "I appreciate you meeting me here, Simon.  I owe you one."

 

"It's darned cold out here Jim, and the train was late.  You owe me two," the bigger man grumbled, lifting his burdens into the back of the wagon. 

 

"Aw, Simon, I'm sorry, I just didn't relish the thought of trying to get the horse and wagon out of the livery, get the horse harnessed…and what are you chuckling about?"

 

"Jim, I was just kidding!" the big man grinned at Ellison; his teeth gleaming even in the poor light.

 

"Right…even so, I still owe you," Jim replied skeptically, deftly wrapping the still sleeping child in a blanket and settling her into the back of the wagon before covering her with still another mantle.  He shrugged gratefully into his recovered jacket before grabbing the reins and climbing up to the seat.

 

"Can I give you a lift home?" he asked the sheriff.

 

"Naw, I'm going to go ahead and check in the office.  Rafe's on alone tonight, and while I trust him completely…well, there might be some problems over at the JB Saloon before the night's over."

 

"Daryl's with him mom, huh?" Jim asked quietly.

 

"Yeah.  And she went to visit her family in Tacoma.  We'll celebrate our Christmas next week sometime.  It's fine," Simon replied.

 

"Why don't you come on over to Prospect Ranch tomorrow evening?  Have Christmas dinner with us?  Meet our newest member, sing a few carols.  We'd love to have you, Simon, you know that."

 

The sheriff smiled warmly at the other man, reaching in his coat pocket for a cigar.  "I do believe I will accept that invitation, Mr. Ellison," he said formally, before chuckling over some thought that crossed his mind.  "Christmas at your place is always interesting."

 

"I'll tell Hannah to expect you, and you know you don't want to disappoint her.  She doesn't make peach cobbler for those folks who disappoint her," Jim grinned.

 

"I'll be there!  Don't you dare threaten my peach cobblers!"  Banks chuckled again and waved a dismissive hand at the Sentinel.  "No go on…shoo!  Get yourself and that child home before I arrest you for loitering.  The kinds of folks you find out on the streets these days…"  Simon's voice faded away as the tall sheriff strode toward downtown, a ribbon of cigar smoke following lazily behind him.

 

Jim shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as he slapped the reins against the horse's back to get him moving.  The ride to Prospect Ranch was quiet and uneventful, and they made good time since the horse seemed as anxious as Jim to get home.

 

He rode through the quiet yard, noticing there was light only in the living room area; both the wings that housed the children were dark and quiet.  That made sense, given how late it was, so he rode right on into the barn, which had been left open pending his arrival.  He'd barely alighted from the wagon when he saw a light approaching, borne by his smiling best friend and Guide.

 

"Jim!  Welcome home!  And a Merry Christmas Eve to you.  You got her?  Great!  The kids actually went ahead and set up her room, at least making the bed and cleaning it up.  They even put a special Christmas decoration in there for her.  If you want to carry her on in I'll take care of the horse and wagon.  And Hannah saved some dinner for you, just in case, since you don't like eating on the train.  Is this her valise?  Pretty heavy, she has more belongings than most of our little ones have come with.  Were there any problems?  You should have seen…"   His voice was cut off when Jim placed one large hand over the smaller man's mouth.

 

"Whoa, Junior, are you going to breathe sometime?  I appreciate the offer to take care of the horse; I'll take you up on that, if you don't mind.  See you inside in a few, okay?"

 

"Yeah, yeah.  I can do that.  Sorry, guess the kids got me a little wound up," he grinned sheepishly, lifting the two bags out of the back of the wagon as Jim lifted the blanket swathed child. 

 

"Right, Chief.  Because you never get wound up all on your own," Jim snickered, heading briskly toward the ranch house.  Hannah stood silhouetted in the doorway, the warmth and light beckoning the tired Sentinel. 

 

Hannah greeted him with a smile and, candle in hand, silently led the way to the girl's wing, where a dim lantern battled the night's darkness.  She indicated the nearest unoccupied cubicle, where Jim could see the bed had been made and all the surfaces gleamed with a recent coat of polish.  Settling Kimberly on the bed, he turned to Hannah, who shooed him toward the door impatiently.

 

"I can take care of her, Jim.  Go set yourself down for a minute and when I'm done I'll get you something to eat," she instructed him, as she efficiently removed the child from her cocoon of blankets.  "My, my, she IS a little one, isn't she?"  Kimberly made no protest, in fact did not even wake up, during Hannah's ministrations and in less than ten minutes she was in a fresh nightgown and nestled warmly in bed.

 

Hannah returned to the main part of the house to find Jim tucking into the meal she had been keeping warm for him.  He looked up a little shame facedly.

 

"I was hungry," he confessed sheepishly.  "I could smell it, and…I couldn't resist.  Thank you for saving some for me."

 

Hannah huffed good-naturedly as she poured herself a cup of tea.  "And you wonder why I can't keep the boys out of the kitchen?  They just follow your example."

 

"I'm not that bad."  He paused in his eating and looked over at her. 

 

"Am I?"

 

~*~

 

Kimberly awoke Christmas morning disoriented, confused, and with the distinct feeling that someone was watching her.  She glanced around her unfamiliar surroundings until her gaze lit upon three girls standing at the entrance to her room.  They were all dressed in similar night dresses, with their long dark hair braided neatly.  Two had the dark complexions natural to those of Negro descent, while the slanted eyes of the third girl proclaimed her Asian heritage.  The four girls studied each other warily, until Kimberly finally broke the silence.

 

"Hello."

 

That was all that was needed to break the ice, it seemed.

 

"Hi, I'm Aisha!  Are you Kimberly?  Merry Christmas!"

 

"Are you ready to get up?  It's almost time for presents!  Oh…I'm Tanya."

 

"I'm Trini.  Good morning, and welcome," the Asian girl said with considerably more calm than her companions, though her eyes danced with happiness.

 

"Hi," Kimberly said hesitantly, sitting up with the covers still pulled protectively up to her neck.  "I'm Kimberly, we got here last night."  She had only a vague memory of the ride from the train to here, and someone with warm, gentle hands getting her ready for bed. 

 

The sound of boots on the wood floor caught the girls' attention. 

 

"Merry Christmas, Papa Jim!"  Three small bodies launched themselves at the Sentinel, who grinned and swept the trio up in a hug. 

 

"Merry Christmas, girls!" he laughed, managing a quick kiss to each round cheek.  "Are you three already terrorizing Kimberly?" he asked, looking over to the newest arrival, who stood at the door of her room uncertainly.  "Good morning, Kimberly.  You ready for Christmas morning?" he asked, setting the other three down.

 

"I guess so," she replied softly, still standing in the same spot, obviously uncomfortable.

 

"Why don't you three go on in the kitchen and see if Hannah needs some help.  We'll be right along, okay?  And no going into the parlor!"

 

"Yes, Sir," sang out three voices as the youngsters scurried toward the main house.

 

Jim approached Kimberly and knelt down in front of her.  "You okay, Honey?"

 

"I think so.  It's just so…I'm not sure what's expected of me," she explained, unable to articulate fully what was troubling her.

 

"Hey, hey, it's not something you have to worry about.  Let's see…we expect you to try to get along with the other kids, to follow the rules, to go to school.  All these things you'll get used to, there's no reason to worry about them right now.  I promise, our main goal is to see you are happy, and healthy, and grow into the best adult you can be.  Now, it's Christmas morning, all the others are pretty excited about the gift exchange and everything, so why don't you come along and join in.  And you can meet the boys, and Hannah, and Blair.  There's absolutely nothing to be afraid of, I promise.  It's like I told you yesterday, you are wanted here."  He pulled her gently into a hug, kissing her cheek and smiling encouragingly at her.  Standing and taking her hand in his, he led her toward the kitchen, pointing out the other girls' rooms along the way.

 

The kitchen was large, clean, and fragrantly warm.  Besides the three girls Kimberly had already encountered there were three boys crowded around a dark haired woman who was stirring something on a large stove.

 

"Good morning, Hannah.  Merry Christmas," Jim greeted her, ushering his small charge forward.  "Kimberly, this is Zack, Adam, and Jason.  Boys this is Kimberly, your new sister."

 

Three pairs of dark eyes looked over the petite girl, and the dark skinned boy, Zack, stepped forward with a wide grin. 

 

"Hi, Kim.  We were hoping you'd get here before Christmas!  This is going to be great!  We're having a special breakfast, and presents, and a big dinner, and pie!  We could smell them baking all day yesterday, but Hannah wouldn't let us have any," the boy explained, before being shooed out of the way by the harried woman.

 

"Zack, you need to settle down a little, before you fly right apart.  Let the poor girl have a moment's peace before you talk her ear off.  Here, take these rolls into the dining room," she requested, placing a large covered basket in his hands.  "And I better find that table set properly," she warned the room at large, resulting in the three girls hastily departing.

 

"Hi," the two remaining boys greeted her, definitely more reserved than the exuberant Zack.  Kimberly noticed that Jason seemed a little unsettled, then remembered that Jim had said he'd joined the family earlier this year, so it was his first Christmas here, too.  That realization made her feel a little better for some reason.

 

She heard another adult male voice emanating from the dining room, and a marked increase in the chatter from the children there.  Jason and Adam looked over at the dining room door with matching grins as a short man with long curly hair fairly burst into the room.

 

"Merry Christmas!" he called out with a wide grin, accepting welcoming hugs from the two boys.  "Hannah, it smells wonderful in here!  Oh, hi, you have got to be Kimberly, I didn't get a chance to meet you last night, what with you being asleep and all," he noted, smiling at the girl.  "I'm Blair, commonly called 'Uncle Blair' around here.  Everyone treating you okay?"

 

"Uh-huh," she replied, looking up at him with wide eyes.  And she'd thought Zack talked fast!

 

"Slow down, Chief, you're setting a bad example for the other children," Jim smiled as Jason and Adam grinned at him. 

 

"That's right, Young Man.  And we wonder where Zack gets it," Hannah added, softening her words with a warm smile.

 

"Can't help it, it's Christmas morning.  Jim and Kimberly made it back in time, and I swear I heard Santa Claus rustling around in here.  Of course, he had to be VERY quiet, or Papa Jim probably would have shot him as an intruder, huh?" he asked the two boys with an exaggerated wink.

 

"Oh, hush!  Just listen to you spouting such nonsense," Hannah scolded, waving her hands at him to shoo him out of her kitchen.  "Go make sure they are ready in there," she instructed, handing him a heaping bowl of scrambled eggs.  "Breakfast is ready."

 

With the remaining boys and Jim lending a hand, the rest of the breakfast was carted into the dining room.  A place had been set for Kimberly along the side with the other girls, while Jim and Blair took positions at either end of the long table.  A quick prayer of thanks, then the hungry family dove into the hearty meal, the sound of eating interspersed with lively conversation and frequent laughter.  After they finished, it was up to the youngsters to clear the table and do the dishes, which all of them helped with, including Kimberly.  As soon as the last dish was dried and replaced in the cupboard, the seven children presented themselves to the adults, fairly thrumming with suppressed excitement.

 

"So, what do you want to do now?" Jim asked, an innocently curious look on his face.

 

"PRESENTS!" six voices insisted, making the big man recoil in mock pain.

 

"Okay, okay, I get the hint.  It's time for present opening.  You may go on into the parlor," he informed them, initiating a mad rush for the parlor door.

 

Once inside the children stopped, for a moment stunned by the sight of the brightly festooned tree and cheerful bundles beneath it.  However, it didn't take long for them to recover and search out their individual piles of presents.

 

"Hey, hey, guys!  Slow down!  Look at what you're getting, and who you're getting it from.  There's no rush, no one is going to take it away," Ellison instructed them, sitting down on one of the big chairs arranged around the room.  "You two did a wonderful job, it's beautiful," he added in a quiet voice to Hannah and Blair.

 

Kimberly, feeling left out and bereft, stood silently by the door, watching the other children, until Trini looked up and noticed her.

 

"Come on, Kimberly, and open your presents," she invited, indicating a small pile of unopened packages.

 

"I have presents?" the girl asked with wide eyes.  "How could I have presents?"

 

"It's Christmas, Child, how could you NOT have presents?" Hannah countered, giving the youngster an encouraging nod.  "Come see what you have here."

 

Hurrying across to sit down next to Trini, she carefully studied the tag before opening the first gift, finding a new dress in the same material the other girls' new dresses were made of. 

 

"Come here, Hon, and let me see," Hannah instructed her, taking the dress and holding it up in front of the youngster.  "Looks like I'll need to take it in just a mite, maybe hem it a little.  You're a dainty little thing, aren't you?"  The woman's smile was warm and affectionate, and Kimberly couldn't help but smile back happily.

 

The other gifts turned out to be a whistle made special for her by the boys, a picture made from dried plants and pinecones from the girls, a couple of sticks of peppermint, and a shiny silver mug with her name scratched on it in decorative letters.  Some cookies, nuts and apples filled her stocking, along with a small book by a popular children's author.

 

Kimberly quietly surveyed her gifts, comparing them to the sometimes elaborate gifts she'd received when her mother's career was going very well.  In those days she got several store bought dresses, dolls, and trinkets of all sorts.  They'd celebrate the holiday at whatever hotel they were staying at, eating dinner in the restaurant and opening gifts the next morning in their motel room.  Her mother always accepted whatever gift Kim got her with joy and gratitude, but the child couldn't help but notice she'd often never see it after that morning.  Eventually Kimberly would lose or forget the trinkets she'd received, the dresses were given to church poor boxes within a couple of months, and they'd move on to new towns and new motels.

 

Remembering all those grand presents she used to get didn't touch her heart as much as realizing Hannah had labored over that dress just for her, as had the other children.  They'd worked to make her presents, not even knowing her yet, just understanding she'd lost her family.  They had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome, and deep inside she realized that was the greatest gift she'd ever received.  She had a home now, and it stunned her to realize she would be there in the same house, with the same people, the next year, and the next, and the next…

 

A warm feeling of permanence settled on her heart; she belonged.

 

~*~

 

After dinner the family, along with the visiting Simon Banks, retired back to the parlor where the piano stood.  Hannah had been taught to play in her youth, so she provided the accompaniment while they all sang the old, familiar Christmas carols. 

 

Their talents were as varied as their personalities, with Blair, Zack and Tanya possessing the good, strong voices and the ability to carry a tune.  The rest of the children had serviceable, if not remarkable, voices, while Simon had a very mellow bass voice that nicely countered the higher tones of the youngsters.  Since Jason and Kimberly had not had reason to sing before, they each took a turn soloing, so the rest of the family could hear them.  Jason’s voice was soft and toneless, wavering nearly off key; but Kimberly had a clear, beautiful voice, which had obviously been trained.  When asked about that, she told them her mother had given her lessons since she could remember, and she often sang to herself when bored or lonely.

 

Soon the big house rang with music, and for an hour or so they gave a private concert to a family of mice that lived under the hutch in the dining room.  Eventually Hannah complained of cramped hands, and the family retired to the living room, where the children settled down to some quiet indoor games.  Jim was pleased to note that Kimberly was invited to join in, which she did with considerable spirit.  Already the girl looked happier, with a sparkle in her brown eyes and a frequent smile and girlish giggle.

 

As bedtime neared Simon excused himself, thanking them for the hospitality and heading back into town.  The children went through their evening wash-up, emerging fresh faced and dressed for bed.  They settled around the adults for another budding Christmas tradition; talking about what their first families did for the holidays.

 

With two new kids, there was a lot to tell, and as was the case more than one tear was shed for the loved ones they had lost.  Blair told of his roving childhood with his free spirited mother, Jim of the elaborate Christmases the Ellisons always had, and Hannah spoke of her family’s tradition of inviting a poor family to their Christmas dinner.

 

Though only five when orphaned, Trini, Zack, Tanya, Aisha and Adam all remembered some aspects of the holidays, and spoke of their lost families with obvious love and longing.  For Jason and Kimberly, it was a rather reassuring experience; obviously Jim did not expect them to forget their old families just because they were now part of a new one.  When it was their turn to tell, Jason went first.

 

“My pa, he always believed in being the one to work on Christmas day, so his deputies could have the day off.  Ma, I don’t think she liked it much, but she didn’t complain any, she said it was the price he paid for being in charge.  She always looked mighty proud when she said that,” the boy noted with sad eyes.  He sniffed a little, then continued.  “Last year, he only had one prisoner, this fellow who’d got drunk at the saloon the night before.  When he wasn’t raising a ruckus at the saloon, he was a shoemaker, and really good, too.  But Pa said Mr. Adale had a hard time telling the devil ‘no’, and so he’d get in trouble.  He was always sorry, but it worried Pa because he said someday Mr. Adale would hurt someone bad, if he wasn’t careful.”

 

“Did he hurt someone?” Zack asked, his round face alight with curiosity.

 

“Just himself.  Pa found him a few weeks later, said it looked like he got drunk and fell into a watering troth.  Reckoned he’d hit his head and knocked himself out and drowned.  I was real sad because Mr. Adale used to give me licorice whips for delivering shoes to folks sometimes,” Jason reported.

 

“That’s awful!” Aisha cried, her dark eyes wide with horror.

 

“That’s what Ma said, too,” Jason agreed.           

 

“But what about Christmas?” Adam asked, steering the story back to the original purpose.

 

“Oh, well, Ma would insist on decorating Pa’s office and around the jail cells, hanging up some ribbons and sprigs of pine, bells and wreaths she made herself.  And of course, the Christmas tree, right there in the corner of the office.  Boy, didn’t some of the prisoners look funny when they saw that!  And Christmas morning Ma and I would bring breakfast over to Pa, and we’d open our presents there.  And if there were any prisoners, like Mr. Adale last year, why Ma’d just serve them up nice as anything.  Pa always said it was a good thing she didn’t come around the jail too often ‘cause she’d spoil the prisoners.” 

 

There was a round of laughter at that admission; Jason's louder than the rest as he remembered his parents with a potent combination of love, loss and longing.  His smile turned unconsciously wistful as he continued.  "So, anyway, that's what we did for Christmas.  I don't really remember what I got in the way of presents as much as I remember seeing the jail decorated and Ma serving ham and eggs to Mr. Adale.  Or the year a cattle rustler was in there.  He joined us in singing carols; my gosh but he had a good voice.  Ma just couldn't believe a man who sang so good could be a rustler.  But he was, went to prison and everything after his trial…" Jason trailed off for a moment, then smiled a little abashedly.  "I guess that's all I really remember."

 

"Pretty interesting way of celebrating Christmas," Jim pointed out with a smile for the dark haired youngster.  "And it sounds just like something Jack Scott would do."  The elder Scott had been a good friend years before, having lived in Cascade for a few years in his teens.  Jim still felt the ache of loss thinking about the circumstances surrounding his murder.

 

"Kimberly, would you think I was rude if I asked to take a break before you tell your story?   I need to run outside," Aisha asked, looking anxiously at the other girl.

 

"Okay," Kim agreed, looking a little puzzled until Blair leaned in closer with a quick whisper that cleared up the mystery.

 

"The outhouse."

 

As it turned out, Aisha was not the only member of the family who needed to make a trek outside, and fifteen minutes had elapsed before they reassembled around the fire.  Kimberly looked down a little shyly, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders, not quite obscuring the fact she was hiding something held in her left arm.

 

"Ever since I can remember Mama and I traveled all the time.  Some Christmases were in places with snow, some where it rained, and once even where it was very warm; almost like summer.  It didn't matter where we were, Mama said, what mattered was that we were together.  She always bought me pretty clothes and stuff, and members of the troupe usually gave me gifts as well.  But, when you travel a lot, well, things get broken and they get lost, and it's hard to keep track of everything."

 

The other girls in particular looked scandalized at the thought of having pretty, new, store bought things and breaking them, or even losing them!  How could Kimberly be so careless? 

 

The newest member of the family understood the looks and tried to explain how it could happen.  "I never meant to lose things, or break them, but honestly, we were packing and moving on every week or so, all year round.  And folks would steal from us, too.  There's a lot of mean folks around, they don't think twice about taking what's not theirs.  But anyway, wherever we ended up for Christmas, Mama would make sure our room had a few decorations up.  Then, after the late performance, she'd come back up to our room and wake me up.  She'd bring some cocoa or warm cider, and we'd sit and wait for it to be midnight, and sometimes she'd sing carols to me; beautiful carols she learned when she was growing up in Boston.  She never sang those ones onstage, only to me."

 

"Then, when it was past midnight, we'd open our presents, and we'd always end up laughing at the crazy things some of Mama's friends gave us.  I always saved a present from her for last, and she'd save one from me.  And after we opened that last gift she'd look at me and say 'nope, I was right all along, you ARE the best gift ever', and I just felt so…so…" tears obliterated her soft voice, and kind hearted Aisha was the first to embrace her new sister.

 

"Just like you're OUR gift this year.  I'm sorry about your mama, but I'm glad you're here," she said, squeezing Kimberly with all her might.

 

"Me, too," added Trini, embracing the two girls.

 

"Me, three."  And Tanya joined the group hug, giggles helping chase the tears away, while the boys watched with mildly amazed expressions.  Who the heck could figure out girls, anyway?

 

"You're lumpy," Aisha complained finally, drawing back and looking at the mysterious bulge under Kimberly's shawl.  "What have you got under there?"

 

Kimberly looked up at Jim with a shyly hopeful expression.  "Well, there were some things were never lost or got broken, mostly because Mama kept them in her satchel she carried with her everywhere.  And when we got to the next hotel, she'd open that right away and take this out and put it somewhere where we could be see it easily."  With that Kimberly drew out a music box; a beautiful dark-haired woman in an elegant gown turned sedately to the haunting tune that came from the box upon which she stood. 

 

"I was hoping…maybe…I could put it somewhere in here?  Ever since I remember, wherever this music box is, it's where my home is.  And…since I'm going to be here…" she trailed off uncertainly at the look on Jim's face.

 

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Blair stepped into the awkward moment smoothly, smiling brightly at the uncomfortable girl.  "How about over here on the mantle?" he suggested, moving a plate aside to make room. 

 

Kim smiled in relief and stretched up to carefully place the cherished item safely on the wide, sturdy shelf. 

 

"That looks perfect," Ellison said, finally breaking free of whatever had so struck him before.  "Thank you for trusting us with this," he said, hugging the small girl to him, referring to so much more than a knickknack.

 

Relieved that her new father-to-be wasn't angry after all, she hugged back, even as she yawned.  A yawn that was echoed by nearly everyone else in the room.

 

"I think that's a signal that it's past bedtime for a certain seven children I know.  Say your goodnights and I'll be there in a few minutes to shut down the lights," Jim announced, noting with amusement that for once no one was complaining about going to bed.

 

Kisses and thank yous and hugs were dispensed in liberal quantities before the youngsters scurried off to their respective rooms, leaving three exhausted but happy adults in their wake.

 

"Ah, it was a wonderful Christmas," Hannah sighed as she heaved herself out of the comfortable chair she'd occupied during the last couple of hours.  "But I don't think I can stay awake another minute.  Good night, boys," she said, taking a lamp and heading toward her ground floor bedroom.

 

"Well, I'd say it was a successful day," Blair added, standing up and stretching.  "Just curious about one thing, Jim.  Why the reaction to the music box?"  There were times, as the Guide had long since found out, that a direct question was the only thing his Sentinel would respond to.

 

Jim stared at the item in question, then huffed out a snort of ironic laughter.  "I gave that to Clarice when we were together.  She loved gifts, and I like giving gifts to those I love.  I meant it to encourage her in her dream to be a singer," he shrugged.  "I can't believe she kept it."

 

"Didn't you tell me the sheriff said she'd loved you?  Of course she'd kept it, cherished it.  Used it to remind her of the good things in this world."  Blair looked at his best friend with considerable sympathy before continuing in a husky voice.

 

"I really do wish it had turned out happier.  For both of you.  But I can't help but be grateful that I ended up with you in my life, I can't imagine what my life would be like without you and the kids."  He paused and colored self-consciously.  "And I do believe I must be tired, too.  No other reason I'd be engaging in such rampant sentimentality.  Good night, Jim."

 

"Good night, Chief."  He waited until Blair was almost out of the room.  "And Blair…I feel the same way.  Merry Christmas."

 

Sandburg glanced back with a luminous smile.  "Merry Christmas, Jim."

 

The Sentinel went into the boys' wing, checking in that his three sons were safely tucked into bed.  Finding the trio already sleeping deeply, he turned off the lantern in the main area after checking that the door and windows were secure.

 

In the girls' wing he found things much the same; the four youngsters were sleeping the sleep of the innocent.  Checking they were safe and warm, he paused a moment over his newest charge, seeing more strongly the resemblance to her mother in the sleeping countenance.  Regret welled up inside him for the lost opportunity with Clarice, and he vowed to do everything in his power to ensure he didn't fail her daughter.  It was all he had he could give to the woman he'd loved.

 

Satisfied that his family was safe and happy, he turned off the last lantern and made his way upstairs to his own room.  The Sentinel could go off duty for now, could rest and prepare for a new day with new challenges and new joys.

 

While outside the gentle rain gave way to heavy snow, wrapping the ranch in a mantle of pristine white; pure, untouched and perfect.

 

The End.