Epilogue
A YEAR LATER …
“ I can ’ t believe it ’ s almost Christmas again.” CeeCee swayed with her newborn baby in her arms.
“ This year has flown by like a hawk chasing after a mouse.” Esme Dubois pulled a Christmas cake from CeeCee ’ s oven. The two women had been baking all morning, getting ready for the fellowship dinner after Church Thursday. The whole town of Silverpines and many of the surrounding ranches will come for the Christmas service and dinner afterward.
CeeCee was excited this year. Last year she knew no one, but after a year of living here and meeting all the locals, and with her baby finally old enough that she could get out among the people again, she could hardly wait.
Damien entered the kitchen. “ Mmmm. It smells like Christmas in here!” He grabbed CeeCee around the waist and pulled her against him. She giggled. “ Stop, you ’ ll make me drop your son.”
“ I trust you to not drop our son.” He chuckled. “ Good day, Miss Esme.”
“ Good day, Mr. Burnett.” Esme smiled at the happy couple as she pulled a tray of sugar cookies from the oven.
CeeCee, gathered a bowl of icing dots she and Esme had made earlier for the cookies. Gingerbread men sat on a tray at the window cooling. She would ice them soon.
Damien reached around her and the baby to snatch a cookie. CeeCee swatted his hand. “ You!” she teased.
“ I ’ m checking for quality!” He insisted. Turning her toward him, he took the baby and kissed her forehead. Walking away, then cooed to his son, “ How ’ s my big handsome boy, today?”
CeeCee turned back to Esme. “ Now, I can help you.”
They laughed. Esme was the niece of Mademoiselle L ’ Rusoe who had told Widow Carter about CeeCee down in Louisiana. They had spied each other in Silverpines the day of the fire that wiped out the back of the mercantile, most of Damien ’ s shop, and a small portion of the post office. No one had been hurt, but the damage to Damien ’ s woodworking shop was devastating. If it had not been for CeeCee ’ s secret stash of union money that her papa had traded early in the war for thirty-three cents on the dollar, there was no telling what condition they ’ d be in today. She was able to save her husband’s business and the fire brought them together so quickly they no longer needed time to “ get to know each other” before they finalized their consummation papers. Nine months later, she gave birth to their son and over those nine months she grew close to Esme and many other women in Silverpines. Damien had already made friends since he settled there a year before her, but Andre Dubois was now a close friend as well. It felt like home, now, and she was happier than she had been in a long time.
Mayor Leachman and his wife invited CeeCee to play their piano often. It wasn ’ t the same as touring in New York, but it was wonderful to be able to play for an audience. Damien got busy after the fire and built what had been commissioned by his customers. He was busier than ever, rebuilding what he had lost to the fire. She only hoped that at some point he would get caught up and be able to build a piano for their home. She missed having one at her disposal anytime of the day or night. With his entire inventory ruined by the fire, having a piano in her home didn ’ t seem nearly as important.
“ Ah! I believe we are done.” Esme sighed as she sat down at the breakfast table. She blew up on the frayed tendrils of her wiry dark hair that had fallen out of her braids.
“ You have done so well.” CeeCee looked over the multitude of trays with cooling cookies, muffins, and the Christmas cake that looked too good to eat. Esme had such a talent with frosting and with a baker ’ s pipping bag she made pretty basket weave and flowers. The cake looked like a basket of Christmas roses, ribbons, and greenery when she finished.
“ So! ” Damien came back into the kitchen. “ This little one tells me he is hungry, and I was wondering what you supposed we might have for supper?”
CeeCee sighed. She ’ d been on her feet all day cooking for the Christmas Fellowship Dinner. “ How about ham sandwiches?”
“ Oh, say,” Esme leapt to her feet. “ I ’ ve got some filé gumbo that I canned last summer, would you like me to bring one over for you to warm on your stove?”
“ That would be wonderful!” CeeCee smiled. It was so nice to have someone near who cooked as she had been used to back in Louisiana. Crab and shrimp were available in the Pacific Ocean, fresh fish and lobster, too. She missed alligator tail and crawdads, but it was good to be able to fix most of the things she loved and longed for from home. Esme was an excellent cook. Just like her aunt, she had a gift with spices and could make a dark tasty roux.
“ I ’ ve got a round of sourdough bread,” CeeCee said. “ Here, you take one of the rounds and I ’ ll take one of your gumbo jars.”
“ Deal.” Esme giggled. “ I ’ ll be right back.” She said as she slipped out the back door.
CeeCee took her son from Damien and sat at the breakfast table to feed him from her abundant supply of mother ’ s milk. He sat too and grinned at the two of them. “ I can never get enough of this,” he said dreamily.
“ What? Ogling my breast, or watching your son chow down like a half-starved ranch hand?”
“ Both.” He rose and kissed her forehead. “ May I make you some tea?”
“ Yes, please.” She sighed. Life had turned out so good. Mademoiselle L ’ Rusoe had been absolutely right. This was CeeCee ’ s destiny. She was happy as a bug in a rug here in Oregon. What a wonderful happenstance that Esme had married a logger here and knew to tell Widow Carter about CeeCee when Damien came to call on the matchmaker. They were perfect for each other. The only thing missing in her life was her own piano. Surely, someday Damien would make one just for her. When he had time.
Tomorrow would be Christmas. People from all over would come to town for church services and the big feast afterward. The Leachmans offered their barn for the feast and a hoedown as long as the weather held up. People who came from ranches and farms miles out would stay the night in bunk beds set up by the locals in barns that were big enough. No one would go without a place to sleep. The Timber Town folks who lived in tents and slept on cots, had brought extra cots to help the towns folk set up temporary sleeping quarters. Esme had brought CeeCee six cots for her carriage house.
CeeCee closed her eyes, pleased with everything, she relaxed as her son suckled happily. What new brides would she meet tomorrow? With the ranchers and farmers coming only twice a year for the special church services, Christmas and Founders ’ day, the Silverpinians anxiously awaited meeting the newcomers. CeeCee, too, was anxious to see who had moved to the area. She had a Christmas Concerto planned, and would play it in the Leachman ’ s ballroom. She had taken Damien Junior with her to practice these last three weeks.
Damien rushed in the back door. “ Close your eyes!” He startled her and the baby.
“ Why?” She giggled.
“ Just close ‘ em,” he said quickly, then ran to the front of the house. She could hear soft banging, quiet voices, and boots shuffling across her foyer and into their parlor. What was going on? Looking down at her son, who was now asleep, despite the commotion, she rose to put him in his cradle that Damien had made for her to keep the child in the kitchen when she was cooking. Turning to leave the kitchen, Damien blocked her from going through the swinging door.
“ Wait!” he said breathlessly. “ Are your eyes closed?”
“ No. ” She giggled.
“ Well, close them, then I ’ ll let you through.” He sounded very excited. What had he done?
“ All right, my eyes are closed.” She said and put her hands up to feel her way forward. Damien took one of her hands and led her through the dining room. “ All right, open your eyes,” he said.
She slowly opened her eyes, and gasped. “ Oh, Damien! Is that for me?”
“ Yes, darling, Merry Christmas!”
Her eyes beheld a baby grand piano, ornately carved with critters that reminded her of Louisiana. Alligators, crawdads, shrimp, crabs, fish, swamps with cattails and reeds. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen! She eased toward it and sat down, sliding the key cover back, she gingerly touched the ivory keys. Damien came around behind her. “ Do you like it?”
“ Like it? Oh Damien, I love it,” she uttered as she began to play a B-flat scale. “ It ’ s perfect.”
“ So, tomorrow, we ’ ll have everyone come over here, instead of Mayor Leachmans to hear your Christmas Concerto.”
She turned watery eyes to gaze at him. How she loved this man! “ Yes. ” She paused. “ Do you think they will mind?”
He chuckled. “ They ’ ve known all along. They are expecting it.”
She gasped. “ How ’ d you keep this a secret?”
“ It wasn ’ t easy.” He laughed.
She played her new piano for hours, while Esme scurried through with her canning jar of gumbo. She stopped for a moment to listen to CeeCee play, then went to her home. Damien heated the gumbo up and cut the bread, while CeeCee played. She stopped to eat and feed Damien Junior, then went back to the seat and played until it was time for bed. She rocked her son to sleep, humming her Christmas Concerto as she rocked. He fell deeply asleep, and she carried him upstairs to his bed next to theirs. Tomorrow was Christmas. She couldn ’ t wait to perform for those who were willing to come to her house to hear.
Christmas morning, they rose early with the baby ’ s cooing. She took him downstairs and opened his gift. He was too small to enjoy the presents waiting for him. Esme had made him a rattling toy, carved from the timber her husband harvested. Damien had made him a wagon with moving wheels, and a horse. CeeCee had sewed him a pretty lacy dress that he could wear to church until he was old enough for britches. Damien sat beside her and opened the gift she had for him. It was nothing as wonderful as her piano, but it was some well-made dress shirts for church and special occasions. His suit was still nice, but his shirts were lacking. She had worked all year to make him these new ones so he would look nice when they attended church and other social gatherings.
She tidied up from their Christmas gift exchange and hurried into the kitchen. Damien had already brewed a pot of coffee and was warming up a pot of what he called Christmas porridge. It was rice pudding, actually, but he said it had become a family tradition when he was a boy and he wanted to make it a tradition for his son. CeeCee ate while Damien Junior suckled, and then they all went upstairs to dress for church. CeeCee moved all her sheet music from the top shelf of her wardrobe to the bench seat at her new piano. And the Burnetts were ready to go to church.
She walked in on her husband ’ s arm, and her son in her other. Proud as a peahen. This was the best Christmas ever. Being a year without a piano at her immediate disposal had been a character building trial to say the least. Now she had one of her own. How had Damien fit in the time to fulfill all his customers’ requests and make one so perfectly ascribed for her by Christmas?
People greeted one another as they meandered into the church. She heard Esme ’ s voice and turned to see who she was speaking to.
“ Oh my goodness!” CeeCee heard Esme squeal. “ Does CeeCee know you ’ re here?”
With her name mentioned, she turned with earnest to see what was happening. Esme stood, with her large, burley lumberjack of a husband at her side at the entrance to the church. They were facing a couple CeeCee did not recognize. The foyer of the church made it difficult to make them out. She could only tell they were a dark couple, like Esme. CeeCee stood, with Damien Junior in her arms, to get a better look. The sunlight streamed through the front door and cut across the newcomer ’ s face. CeeCee couldn ’ t believe her eyes! Was it possible?
She excused herself and carried her son with her toward the foyer. Damien looked around and jumped up to follow her. “ What ’ s—”
“ Mireille?” CeeCee dared guess the woman ’ s name. “ Mireille Bergeron?” She clarified.
The woman turned warm brown eyes toward CeeCee and grinned. “ Why, as I live and breathe, Miss CeeCee!”
She stumbled toward CeeCee as CeeCee stumbled toward her. They fell into each others’ arms and hugged fervently for long lost time.
“ I had no idea you were here in Oregon.” CeeCee wiped her tears.
“ And you have a baby!” Mireille said through equally happy tears.
CeeCee glanced down at Mireille ’ s expanding waist. “ And so will you soon!”
“ Yes. ” Mireille glanced up into her husband ’ s eyes. They smiled at one another with so much joy, CeeCee didn ’ t have to ask if she was happy!
“ How ’ s your mother?” CeeCee asked.
Mireille ’ s joy drained from her face, she bowed her head and shook it.
“ Oh, I ’ m so sorry to hear that.” CeeCee said.
“ She ’ s finally at peace.” Mireille said.
“ Where are you living?” CeeCee asked.
“ This is my husband Roderick Ward. He has a ranch on the outskirts of Silverpines. That ’ s why we haven ’ t been into town until now. But I ’ m so glad we came. I hear you ’ re going to be performing on a piano!”
“ Yes. ” CeeCee turned to pull her husband into the group. “ This is Damien. He makes pianos and he made one just for me. Wait ’ til you see it. It ’ s so wonderful!”
“ I can ’ t wait to hear you play again. I ’ ve missed you so much!”
“ I ’ ve missed you, too.” CeeCee pulled Mireille into another warm and long hug. The pastor cleared his throat loudly. CeeCee turned to look at Pastor Thomas.
“ We need to sit down. Please come sit with us!” she said. Glancing at her husband, remembering their first conversation about differentiating themselves from those who were not the same. She smiled at him, knowing he had come to terms with the notion that CeeCee befriended everybody no matter what difference they may have.
They settled into their pew and the Pastor began his Christmas service.
CeeCee held Mireille ’ s hand when she could. Damien Junior needed some attention, too, which prevented her from giving all her attention to her long-time friend from Pointe Coupee Parish. What a wonderful Christmas this was indeed. The Lord had been so good to her. The reprise of her life was to have Mireille and Esme living near her. A little touch of home repeated in her life. A life that she loved and was so very happy. She kissed Damien Junior on the nose and held his new rattle toy in front of him. He smiled and played with it. She turned to Damien and smiled.
“ Thank you.” She mouthed.
“ You ’ re welcome.” He mouthed back to her and squeezed her shoulder.
There was no way she could ever top this Christmas, but she vowed to always try. Somehow, each year she would strive to make it better than the last. As long as she was able.
“’ Til death do we part,” she thought.
THE END