Carla Kelly Read Online Free PDF Page B

frowning at them. “Let's see if that Mr. Otto hasn't lost all his charm. Say a prayer, sport.”
    Julia said her all-purpose, three-word prayer, amending it to “Comfort us , Jesus.” She watched Paul walk to the conductor, give him that patented, measuring stare she was intimately acquainted with, and hold up five fingers. She couldn't help her smile as the conductor—supreme potentate on the Union Pacific—nodded and pointed to a door slightly ajar. Paul held out his hand for her.
    In a moment they were in what looked like an overgrown broom closet.
    “What…?”
    Paul sat her on a stool next to a wall of janitorial supplies. “Your middle name's Amanda, isn't it? I didn't bother with the finer points when I did this last summer.”
    She nodded, already feeling a lift to her spirits. She closed her eyes as Paul took off her hat, the feathery thing he had bought three days ago, put it in her lap, and placed his hands firmly on her curly hair.
    “Julia Amanda Darling, by the power of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood, I give you a blessing of comfort.”
    His words were quietly spoken, calm and firm, as he blessed her with peace of mind and freedom from fear, and the courage to endure the pain of their separation. He admonished her to think more of others and less of herself. Maybe his words should have stung a little, but they didn't. What he said, what he pronounced on her head, was precisely what she needed. She could only add her prayers to his and draw strength from his resolve, as he had so obviously intended.
    When he finished, Paul kissed the top of her head, fingered her curls as though he wanted to imprint that memory in his senses, and rested his hands briefly on her shoulders.
    “You okay, sport?” he asked.
    She turned around to look him square in the eyes. “Never better.”
    “I have to catch a train then.”
    The conductor was still waiting by the passenger compartment. He nodded to Paul. “One minute left,” he said, with another nod to Julia and a decided twinkle in his eye.
    Paul kissed her. “I'm serious about your curly hair,” he whispered. “I really like it short. I'm thinking… When ZCMI delivers my suit, just… just keep it at the foot of your bed. I'd leave my Stetson too, but the other one burned up. A stockman is naked in Wyoming without his lid.”
    With one last tug at her hair, he got on the train and did not look back. That's better , Julia thought. She squared her shoulders, turned around, and left the train depot without a backward glance.
    The ride home with Papa was a quiet one. “He gave me a blessing, Papa,” was all she said, and maybe all she needed to say. When she got home, she went upstairs into the bedroom across the hall where Paul had stayed. Thank goodness Mama hadn't stripped the sheets from the bed yet. She grabbed the pillow on his bed and pressed her face to it, sighing in relief to breathe in the fragrance of bay rum. She put his pillow on her bed, pressed her face into it, and slept soundly for the first time in weeks. When she woke up, she went to the kitchen and looked around for the replacement cookbook Mama had bought, and which Julia had not the heart to open. She smiled when she found it and flipped to the chapter on cakes.
    “Now, what would you like, Uncle Albert?” she asked out loud, turning the pages. She stopped on Lemon Queens, and her mouth started to water. “ I want this, Uncle Albert,” she murmured. “I'll try it on you, and make it for Paul in December…” She wavered a moment, because suddenly Christmas seemed almost as far away to her as when she was a little girl, and waiting impatiently for something wonderful under the tree. I suppose I have not changed much , she thought next, and her face grew rosy. I'm still anticipating something wonderful .
    Her resolve returned. Paul had told her to think of others and not of herself. She smiled again. I'll think of you, Uncle Albert, and maybe only a little of myself, because I want