family celebrated the birth of Jesus. It was never about the presents one could give or get. It was about the supreme gift of Jesus, God’s most precious gift of love, and how they were to share that love with each other.
Faith found herself growing more anxious by the minute to reach home. She could almost smell the gingerbread and pine boughs. She could imagine them all gathered in front of the rock fireplace—fire blazing and crackling—her mother softly singing. Nancy had done an amazing job of decorating the boardinghouse for the holidays, but it wasn’t the same. No doubt Mimi, who’d been left in charge of Mrs. Weaver, would appreciate the plentiful supply of holiday cooking Nancy had left behind, but Faith wished they could have invited both women to come to Oregon City.
Still, they’d had a nice time the night before with Nancy and Seth. The women of the boardinghouse helped decorate the tree. Even Mrs. Weaver had been anxious to do her part, so they’d made an evening of it with refreshments and a roaring fire. The front sitting room was the perfect setting for their festivities even though Seth at first had thought the large dining room more appropriate.
“No one wants to be crowded at dinner by the Christmas tree,” Nancy had protested. “I think the front sitting room is perfect.”
And so it was.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” Captain Gratton asked, breaking into Faith’s thoughts. “It’s raining, you know.”
She laughed. “Captain Gratton. It’s good to see you again. But to answer your question, I’m not a bit cold. I’m just enjoying the journey, and the rain isn’t even touching me, thanks to the deck covering.”
“It probably doesn’t dare rain on you. That seems to be the way it is for you.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed a bit as she cocked her head. “What do you mean by that?”
The captain pulled up his coat collar. “Just as I said. You enjoy the journey. You seem content in life. How could the rain dare to fall on you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the journey.” She shrugged. “I don’t have much interest in the alternative. I’ve known many a man and woman who lived in the misery of their own making. I have no desire to be like that.”
“No, I can’t imagine you that way.” The captain leaned back against the railing. “Are you going home for Christmas?”
Faith nodded. “I am. My classes are done until after the winter break. That’s not to say that I don’t have plenty of studying to do, however. That’s why this will be a short trip. We will head back to Portland on Saturday.”
“That’s when I’m returning as well.”
She laughed. “Then be sure to save us three seats.”
“Three? I thought there were four of you.”
“There are, but Clementine—she’s the redhead—is staying a little longer. She’s a teacher and doesn’t have to be back to her position right away, so she’s staying to spend time with her fiancé.”
“The tall man who was with you when I got my arm cut?”
“Yes. You have a good memory, Captain.”
“Please just call me Andrew.”
Faith nodded. “And you should call me Faith.”
They said nothing for several minutes after that. Faith continued to stare out at the waters of the Willamette, ever mindful of how attractive the captain was with his neatly trimmed black beard and mustache. She had always liked facial hair. It often gave men a distinguished look. With Andrew Gratton, it made him alluring and mysterious.
“Well, I should get back to my duties,” he said.
Faith looked up to see he had been watching her. She smiled. “And I shall go back inside. I suppose it is rather cold, and I believe the wind has shifted and I’m starting to feel the rain.” She noted that he hadn’t worn a hat or scarf. “You should bundle up better. You don’t want to become sick.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“My pleasure, Captain.” She gave him a curt nod and headed off to join her companions.
Andrew’s lack of hat and scarf, however, stayed with her, and upon her first step into her parents’ house, she asked her mother for yarn.
“What color?” Hope asked, eyeing her daughter with a curious expression.
“I think red would do nicely.”
“What are you up to?”
Faith discarded her coat and hat. “I’m going to make the captain of the Morning Star a hat and scarf. He apparently has neither and was quite cold on our journey here.”
“It seems unlikely that a riverboat captain wouldn’t have the proper attire,” her mother replied. “But