His Frontier Christmas Family

She went to check. Sure enough, two little handles opened to a cupboard so stocked, Callie could only stare. Jar upon jar crammed on the shelves—red tomatoes, purple plums, golden applesauce, blackberry preserves, pearly onions swimming around blood-red beets, dusky green asparagus and brighter green beans. Oh, what she could do with all this!

She grabbed a jar of applesauce and carried it back to the table.

Frisco was already sitting on the bench. “When do we eat?” he asked Levi.

Levi covered his hand with a corner of the cloth at his waist and eased open the oven. “I’d say a quarter hour, by the look of the biscuits.”

“Biscuits?” Sutter hurried to the table and slid in beside Frisco. Mica called her welcome to them both.

Callie’s feet carried her to Levi’s side, her gaze latched on the browning morsels in the oven. “You know how to bake biscuits?”

He nodded, and she almost cried out in loss as he closed the oven door and shut out the sight of the food she hadn’t eaten since Anna had died. “Ma insisted we all learn to fend for ourselves,” he explained. “Cooking, cleaning, sewing.”

“See there, Callie?” Frisco called. “You won’t have to do anything anymore. The preacher’s gonna take care of us all.”

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