Parson Clay's Christmas Pup: A Wyldhaven Series Christmas Romance Novella Read online

  By

  THE WYLDHAVEN SERIES

  by Lynnette Bonner

  Not a Sparrow Falls - BOOK ONE

  On Eagles’ Wings - BOOK TWO

  Beauty from Ashes - BOOK THREE

  Consider the Lilies - BOOK FOUR

  Novellas Releasing During the 2019 Holiday Season

  Sheriff Reagan’s Christmas Boots - BOOK FIVE (Novella)

  Doc Griffin’s Christmas Sleigh - BOOK SIX (Novella)

  Deputy Joe’s Christmas Saddle - BOOK SEVEN (Novella)

  Marshal Zane’s Christmas Horse - BOOK EIGHT (Novella)

  Washington Nolan’s Christmas Watch - BOOK NINE (Novella)

  Parson Clay’s Christmas Pup - BOOK TEN (Novella)

  Kin Davis’ Christmas Send-Off - BOOK ELEVEN (Novella)

  Songs in the Night - BOOK TWELVE – Coming Soon!

  OTHER HISTORICAL BOOKS

  by Lynnette Bonner

  THE SHEPHERD’S HEART SERIES

  Rocky Mountain Oasis - BOOK ONE

  High Desert Haven - BOOK TWO

  Fair Valley Refuge - BOOK THREE

  Spring Meadow Sanctuary - BOOK FOUR

  Find all other books by Lynnette Bonner at:

  www.lynnettebonner.com

  Parson Clay’s Christmas Pup

  WYLDHAVEN, Book 10

  Published by Serene Lake Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Lynnette Bonner. All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Lynnette Bonner of Indie Cover Design, images ©

  www.depositphotos.com, File: # 200808726 – Puppy

  www.depositphotos.com, File: # 29492597 – Man

  www.depositphotos.com, File: # 127044988 – Christmas Presents

  www.depositphotos.com, File: # 18947877 – Trees & Sunrise

  Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Parson Clay’s Christmas Pup is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination.

  Chapter 1

  Preston Clay woke a few days before Christmas, feeling like his throat might be on fire.

  He groaned.

  Perfect.

  Not only had an avalanche prevented him from traveling east to visit with his parents this holiday, but for the past few weeks he had been battling a nagging illness that seemed to now have caught up with him.

  He slipped one hand from beneath the covers and fumbled across the night table for the cup of water that he had left there the evening before. Mercy, but it was cold in his room! How could he feel half frozen and half ablaze all at once? His hand settled around the cup and he lifted his head enough to take a few sips. But each swallow may as well have been filled with razor blades. Giving up, he returned the cup to the bedside table and withdrew beneath his warm feather tick.

  He was supposed to ride out to Camp Sixty-One today to perform a Christmas service, but he didn’t think he was going to make it. All week he had been pushing himself even though he didn’t feel well, but this morning the illness had tipped over into outright agony.

  He would have to send Kin to the camp on his behalf. Kin could at least let them know he wouldn’t be able to make it. And maybe Kin could even read the passages from the book of Luke about the birth of Christ to the assembly.

  Preston smirked. Wouldn’t that be a picture! Kin leading a church service! If only he could be there to see it.

  Across the room the door squeaked on its hinges and Tommy poked his head inside. “P-Parson?”

  Preston feared what might happen to the poor simpleminded young man if he were to come down with whatever this ailment was. He didn’t want to subject him to this unpleasantness. “Tommy, I need you to go out and close the door, okay?” His voice rasped and he paused to swallow. “Can you get Kin for me?”

  Tommy hesitated. “Kin d-done went to f-finish Miss Dixie’s s-sleigh.”

  Preston’s eyes slipped closed. Yes. He should have remembered that Kin was finishing up that project. Now how was he going to communicate with Camp Sixty-One?

  And, much as he hated to admit it, he needed Doc, but he didn’t want to send Tommy down to town on his own. Though he was trustworthy most of the time, sometimes Tommy lost track of the task he had been given and wandered off. Preston didn’t want him wandering around in this weather, especially when he was too ill to go looking for him if he strayed from his assigned task.

  “Okay, Tommy. I need you to let me sleep for a little bit longer okay? Just close the door and sit by the fire and paint in that book that Aurora gave you.”

  “F-fire’s almost out.”

  Preston grunted. True. Even if Kin had banked the fire before he left, it would be low by now. And the first week that Tommy had come to live with them, he’d almost started the hearth on fire. Ever since then, they’d had a rule that Tommy was not allowed to do anything with the stove or the fireplace.

  Willing himself to be strong, he pushed the covers back and sat up on the edge of the bed. Cold slapped him like an avalanche. Every muscle tightened up. And his right calf went into a spasm. He gritted his teeth and stretched out the leg, then forced himself to stand. The room spun. He grabbed for the footboard and missed. He went down to the floor in a heap. Old words that used to be part of his everyday life spun through his mind. He gave himself a little shake. Forgive me, Jesus.

  He banished the curses and refocused. Now what?

  He simply didn’t have the wherewithal to try again. He grabbed the corner of the tick and tugged it on top of himself. But dash, this floor was cold. He rolled over so that part of the tick now lay beneath him. And with that, his strength was gone. Yet Tommy still remained patiently by the door.

  Preston didn’t have what it took to go put wood on the fire. “Put on your coat, okay, Tom-Tom?”

  Tommy chuckled at the nickname. “Okay. I like to p-paint.”

  “I know. Paint me a real nice one and I’ll put it up in the kitchen when I get better.”

  Still, Tommy hesitated. “You get b-better?”

  “Yes. I’ll get better. I just need to sleep. You stay in the house, you hear? Promise me.”

  “T-Tommy p-promise.”

  “Good lad.” Preston closed his eyes then and willed away the wave of dizziness swirling in his head.

  He heard the door squeak and then click shut. Relieved that Tommy had listened to him and not come too close, Preston allowed himself to return to the oblivion of sleep.

  Aurora McClure walked through the beautiful chill of this winter morning with her songbooks clasped in her arms. As she crossed the wooden slats of the Wyldhaven Creek bridge near town, she admired the patterns ice had created along the river banks. Only the very center of the creek remained unfrozen. And that likely would be covered over in the next day or so. Her breath puffed in a cloud before her. It was so cold that the snow squeaked beneath her boots. Despite the chill, she felt light of heart. In just a moment she would be in the warm church, and able to spend the next blessed hour in Preston Clay’s presence.

  Her face heated at the improper thought.

  Just because the parson was single, didn’t mean he was looking for a wife. Not to mention, what did she know about being a parson’s wife? Sure, she played the piano and could sing, but she didn’t have much to offer beyond that. Preston was likely looking for a woman who knew a sight m
ore about the operation of the church. And, if she were honest, he likely didn’t want the daughter of a soiled dove for a wife either.

  She’d best compose her thoughts before arriving at the church. It wouldn’t do to have Preston pestering her about the cause of her flushed cheeks. The thought of explaining to him only made her blush more.

  Ever since she’d come to town posing as a boy to hide from the brothel owner who had wanted to press her into service, and lived with the parson and Kin for several weeks in the guise of a lad, both of them treated her like a younger sibling. So all of her daydreams were likely for naught, because Preston would never see her as anything other than the young girl who had deceived him.

  Preston.

  Listen to her go on! Even if using his first name was only in her thoughts, one of these days she was going to slip and call him Preston to his face, and then where would she be?

  She took the church steps carefully, for they were thick with frost. But when she stepped into the entryway the building was still cold and dark.

  She frowned. On the days when she and Preston went over the music for Sunday’s services, he always started a fire ahead of time to warm the place while he went over his sermon notes. So where could he be? Perhaps he had lost track of time and would be here in a few minutes. It wouldn’t hurt her to get the fire going this time.

  She took kindling from the box by the old wood stove that stood at the back corner of the sanctuary and set about making a fire that was soon spreading heat. Still, Preston had not arrived.

  She paced to the side window of the sanctuary that looked up the hill toward the parsonage.

  The path between here and there remained empty. And there was something oddly still about the scene that made her take a second look. What was it?

  Last night’s fresh layer of snow did have footprints in it. Had Preston left the house? Or had someone else walked the path? Maybe she should practice that hymn with the difficult chord changes. She started to turn from the window, but stilled.

  There was something… Then her focus honed in on the parsonage chimney then. That was it. No smoke. On a cold day such as today, she couldn’t imagine that the cabin Parson Clay shared with Kin and Tommy was warm enough to go without a fire.

  Something wasn’t right.

  She tucked her coat close about her and took the trail up the hill. At the parsonage door, she knocked. “Parson?”

  A moment later the door creaked open. Only Tommy’s face was visible in the opening.

  She smiled. “Morning, Tommy. How are you today?”

  “I’m c-cold. But P-PC has r-rules. T-Tommy’s not allowed t-to make a fire.”

  Aurora put her hand on the door. “And you are a good man for following the rules. How about if I come in and make you one?”

  He tilted his head, obviously uncertain if that would break Parson Clay’s rules.

  “Is the parson here?” She searched the yard as she waited for his response. Everything lay under a quiet blanket of snow.

  Tommy stepped back and opened the door a little wider.

  As she stepped inside and closed it behind her, she noted that Tommy wore his thick winter coat. She rubbed her hands together. It really was almost as cold in here as it was outside. The one room encompassed a kitchen on one end and living quarters on the other. A quick sweeping glance revealed that Preston wasn’t here. Her gaze landed on the closed bedroom door, and her heart thudded. “Where’s PC, Tommy?”

  She felt her face heat at the familiar term. Years ago, Kin had started calling Parson Clay “PC,” and the nickname had sort of grown on the community. Many of them called him that now. But never her. She’d always stuck to formal address—except in her thoughts. But a flick of a glance at Tommy showed he thought nothing of it.

  He shrugged. “He’s s-still s-sleeping.”

  Aurora frowned. Still sleeping? That didn’t sound like Preston at all. When she’d lived here, he had always been the first one up. And right at the crack of dawn. “Maybe you should go check on him?”

  Tommy shook his head. “He g-gone down. H-he t-told me to p-paint in m-my b-book. Want to see?”

  Gone down? What did he mean by that?

  Tommy’s feet shuffled.

  She forced a smile. “Sure. Show it to me while I get the fire going.” She felt pleased that Tommy seemed to like her gift so much. She had originally thought it might keep him occupied while Parson Clay studied, but Tommy had been so taken with the gift that he painted several times a day. She would soon need to get him another book of paper. It didn’t matter that most of his pictures couldn’t be deciphered. It was the joy he got from the process.

  As she made a fuss over Tommy’s painting of a horse—nothing but brown blobs on the paper—and got the fire going, Aurora’s mind scrambled to decide what to do. She couldn’t just go into Preston’s room to see if he was all right! That would be unseemly. But neither could she just leave him alone without knowing what might be wrong. “Gone down” kept ringing in her mind.

  With the fire crackling cheerily, Aurora stepped back and dusted her hands. “There. The house will soon be much warmer. Did you get some breakfast yet?”

  Tommy shook his head. “Nope.”

  Aurora’s worry mounted. “Did PC get up at all this morning?”

  He shook his head. “H-he’s sick.”

  She studied the closed bedroom door. “How sick?”

  Tommy shrugged. “He gone d-down.”

  That did it.

  “Okay. Go sit at the table and I’ll get you some breakfast in just a minute. You can paint some more until I come.”

  Tommy trotted to the table proclaiming his love of painting.

  Aurora squinted at the pine door. When she’d lived here, there’d been only one bedroom, but after Tommy moved in, the parson and Kin had constructed a second one that Kin and Tommy now shared. But she knew the parson had remained in the original one.

  The room she now needed to enter!

  Aurora approached the door and tapped softly. “Parson? You okay in there?”

  When there was no reply, Aurora’s pulse gave a little stutter.

  Chapter 2

  Aurora turned the knob on Preston’s bedroom door, and pushed it open just a crack. “Preston?” Drat! There she had done it and let his name slip. She really needed to get a handle on her thoughts and not think of him in such familiar terms.

  Had he heard her? He still hadn’t responded. Aurora pressed farther into the room. “Parson?”

  He made a little groaning sound—from the floor!

  Aurora’s pulse spiked. Gone down indeed!

  She scurried a little closer. At least he had pulled the thick quilt from his bed! All she could see was his tousled sandy brown hair poking from one end of where he’d rolled himself up in it.

  Her hand trembled as she reached out to tuck the blanket away from his face. He had a sheen of moisture on his forehead! Without further thought, she sank to her knees beside him. Instinctively, she laid her hand against his skin. He was burning up! And was that— She leaned a little closer. Small red dots covered the column of his throat.

  She needed to fetch Doc right away! But what about his fever? She made a quick decision. First, she needed to cool him. She dashed from the room and scrambled into the kitchen.

  “Breakfast?” Tommy asked hopefully.

  “In a minute, Tommy.” She grabbed a basin and pumped the handle on the kitchen pump. “Parson Clay is very sick. I need to help him for a minute. You keep painting, all right?”

  “All right.”

  That was one thing that could be said for Tommy. He was very compliant.

  Aurora searched the cupboards for a rag and thankfully the parson and Kin hadn’t done much, if any, rearranging since she had lived here, because everything seemed to be in about the same place. She found the rags, hefted the bowl of water, and then dashed back to the cabin’s main bedroom.

  Heaven help them if any of the Wyldhaven gossips ev
er learned that she was in his room tending him alone! But she knew Doc wouldn’t tell, and she also knew enough about fevers to know that the sooner she got this one to come down, the better it would be for Preston.

  “Parson?” She congratulated herself for not using his given name. “You have a fever. I’m here to help.” She wasn’t even sure if he was lucid enough to understand her. But since he made no response, she took that as permission. She sank onto the floor beside him and dipped the rag in the cool water then wrung it out. Leaning close, she dabbed the rag across his forehead.

  He jerked away.

  “I know it’s cold. I’m so sorry. But it’s important that we get your fever down.”

  Whether he’d heard her words, or whether he had adapted to the cool cloth, she wasn’t sure, but it didn’t seem to bother him so much after that. Aurora laid the rag against his neck, until it was warm to the touch, then she put it back in the water. She kept dipping and ringing and dabbing.

  But she couldn’t stay here much longer. The parson needed Doc. Why hadn’t he sent Tommy on that errand? Yet even as the question filled her mind, Aurora knew she wouldn’t let Tommy go into town on his own either. But what Tommy could do was sit here and cool PC while she ran down. She dashed back into the dining room. “Tommy? I need your help. Can you come here for a minute please?”

  In his usual compliant way, Tommy rose and followed her without question.

  She showed him how to run the rag along Parson Clay’s forehead and over his neck. “Just like that, okay? I’m going to fetch Doc and I will be right back. You keep doing this, all right?

  Tommy nodded. “Tommy h-help PC.”

  “Yes good. You help PC, and I’ll be right back.” Willing herself not to panic, Aurora dashed down the hill into town. Twice she skated on the ice and almost fell, but each time she managed to right herself. She burst into the boardinghouse and was relieved to see Dixie manning the main desk. “Oh Dixie! I’m so glad to see you.” She laid a hand over her chest, and gulped a few breaths. “I need Doc. Is he here?”