One of our neighbors already has Christmas lights up, and even though I watch holiday movies year round, it's a bit early for me to start decorating. That is a tradition saved for the day after Thanksgiving. However, I am all for enjoying an early "taste" of the Christmas season.
Christmas is a time when anything can happen, or so my characters always believe. It is a time of hope, love, and miracles. A Home for Christmas includes three stories about realistic men, women, and children who help others, who seek to find the good in the darkness, and who strive to make every day count. From Montana to Wyoming to Colorado, I hope these tales will warm your heart as much as they do mine.
Did you know: American-style muffins are 'quick breads' made in individual molds. Quick breads were not developed until the end of the 18th century. English-style muffins made with yeast and cooked on a griddle date back to the tenth or eleventh century in Wales. (foodreference.com)
Enjoy an Excerpt from "Teton Christmas" in
A Home for Christmas
“Your aunt hasn’t told you anything about living out here, has she?”
McKensie shrugged. “A great many things, but no, she did not speak of cowboys waiting in the shadows to accost me when I least expect. I may not be from around here, sir, but I promise that I am not a fool with flights of fancy. Dangers lurk in the shadows in Asheville as much as they do here. I simply choose not to dwell on them.” She nodded toward the telegraph office. “I had set myself a task, and if you are still worried about my safety, I invite you to join me.”
“How do you know I’m not one of those dangerous shadows, Miss Stewart?”
McKensie leaned toward him, grinned, and whispered, “Because, Mr. Cutter, my aunt speaks quite highly of you.” She left him to wonder over that and walked into the telegraph office. He didn’t follow her inside, but she watched through the window where he stood, waiting by the door like a determined sentinel at his post. When she stepped back outside, McKensie tucked her scarf underneath her chin to ward off the frigid wind that had sneaked up during the brief time she was inside.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Cutter, I do believe I’d prefer the warmth of the hotel right about now.”
He smiled and held out his arm, which she gladly accepted as they navigated the icy and snowy road back to the hotel. “You knew who I was the entire time?”
McKensie shook her head. “Not until that wretched man called you Cutter. My aunt described you well in her letters, though I must say I did not expect someone so . . .”
He opened the door to the hotel dining room and waited for her to pass him. “So what?”
“Tall.” She didn’t bother to hide her amusement. “Won’t you join us?” McKensie walked toward the table where her aunt and sister sat, and she noticed with delight that the food had arrived. “Aunt Caitlyn, look who found me outside.”
Caitlyn stood and reached for Brandon’s hands “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.”
“Unexpected business brought me into town a day early.”
“Then we are the ones who shall benefit.” Caitlyn indicated the two empty chairs. “Please, join us.”
“Thank you, but I must be on my way. I’ll return in a few hours for the tree hunt.” Brandon smiled as he tipped his hat to the women.
McKensie settled back into her seat. “Tree hunt?”
Caitlyn nodded. “Brandon searches for and cuts down the big tree for this room, and now that you’re both here, why don’t you two join him and Deke on the hunt?”
Madison scrunched her nose. “In the forest?”
Caitlyn’s gay laughter filled the air. “Where else do you suppose we’d find a Christmas tree around here?”
“I’ll go.”
Two bright pairs of eyes settled on McKensie. She merely shrugged and sipped from the glass of hot cider the waitress set down in front of her. “It will be an adventure, Maddy. Do say you’ll come.”
Madison shook her head. “You’ve given me enough adventure for one holiday, and it’s only beginning. I’d just as soon decorate on the inside of the hotel.”
McKensie spread jam over her warm biscuit and glanced across the table at her sister and then turned her attention to their aunt. “What exactly does one wear when Christmas tree hunting?”
Excerpt from "Teton Christmas" in A Home for Christmas copyright © MK McClintock
I hope you make time every now and then to escape into a good book and relax with a pot of tea, or your beverage of choice, and a tasty treat.
The Beverage: Hot Cocoa with cinnamon, snowflake marshmallows, and a candy cane
The Treat: Cranberry-Orange Pecan Muffins (scroll down for recipe)
The Book: A Home for Christmas
Cranberry-Orange Pecan Muffins
These muffins are a nice treat for breakfast, lunch, or as dessert. We especially enjoy them as an afternoon delight with a cup or tea or hot cocoa. They pair well with herbal teas that have a touch of spice.
For your convenience, you can download a PDF copy of the recipe.
Enjoy, and thank you for visiting!
Updated: Mar 13
Emma, Hattie, Briley, and Clara are the women of Crooked Creek, and boy have they taught me a lot. Next year I will be spending a lot of time with these remarkable women and the men and friends who entered their lives in the individual stories. Until then, it's nice to revisit them from time to time. I was craving Irish Soda Bread the other day and immediately thought of Briley, the Irish lass who came to Montana thinking she'd meet her new husband, only to find herself alone.
Classic Irish Soda Bread has a nice, crisp crust and a light center, and while I tend to prefer mine with a little dab of Kerrygold butter, it is also delicious with a nice jam. Briley likely would have enjoyed hers plain, perhaps with a bit of soup or stew.
Did you know: "Though soda bread is now most commonly attributed to Ireland, the first people to use soda to leaven their bread was the American Indians. These indigenous Americans were the first to be documented using pearl ash—a natural form of soda created from the ashes of wood—to leaven their breads without the presence of yeast. However, it wasn’t until this process was later discovered and replicated by the Irish that it earned a reputation worldwide." (Inside the Origin of Irish Soda Bread)
I should have already know this, but alas, I did not. There is always something new to learn.
Enjoy an Excerpt from "Briley of Crooked Creek"
Peyton Sawyer considered himself a patient and understanding man most of the time. This was not one of those times. “You’ll stay in there until I see fit, and if you ask again, I’ll guarantee you don’t get out of there until spring.” Peyton swung the door closed and stepped into his office. The door to the office opened from the outside and in swept Clete Foster and a gust of frigid air.
Clete brushed the snow off his coat. “Beggin’ pardon, Sheriff.”
“Don’t beg for anything, Clete.” Peyton rubbed a hand over his dark beard. “Coffee?”
Clete nodded. “Don’t mind if I do, thank you.”
Peyton poured a stream of steaming dark liquid into a clean mug and handed it to his visitor. He forced himself not to return to the back cell when the yelling began. Instead, he ignored the shouts and focused on Clete. “Weren’t you just in town yesterday?”
“I was at that. You see, Sheriff, I came to tell you—”
The racket became a chorus of screams and rattling of the bars. “Ignore it,” Peyton said. “What did you want to tell me?”
Clete grinned. “You got them Teeter brothers in there again?”
“The bane of my existence.” Peyton excused himself for a minute and when he returned, silence followed with him. “They care more about their supper than their indignation.”
“I reckon they would, seeing as how ain’t no two bigger men in these parts. Exceptin’ you, of course, and I reckon Mr. Latimer.”
Peyton raised a brow and settled himself in the chair behind his desk, his long legs crossed beneath the desk. “Now, what’s on your mind, Clete?”
“You see, a lady hired me at the stage stop yesterday to drive her home.”
Peyton waited for whatever Clete had felt necessary to rush over in a storm and tell him. “You hire out all of the time.”
“I do, Sheriff, that I do, but you see this lady was alone. We got to the cabin, and I reckon she was expectin’ someone to be there.”
Peyton rose, catching on to Clete’s concern. “No one was there.”
“Not a soul. She had it all written out on a paper where she was supposed to go. I didn’t feel right leaving her there, but she said she was staying. She has a nice way about speaking like old Mr. Sweeney did, but she’s real music-like. I done what I could, but it ain’t proper or right for a nice lady like her to be alone. I promised I’d check up on her again, but I figure you ought to know. And, she needs a horse, Sheriff. If I was a speculating man, I’d say she didn’t—”
Peyton’s hand rose, effectively cutting off Clete’s rambling. “Where did you drive her?”
“That old cabin west of town before you get to the big meadow. It’s right there on Crooked Creek. Her name is Miss Donaghue . . . how about that, I didn’t get her Christian name.”
Peyton glanced at the clock. It was late enough in the morning to make an unexpected visit. “I appreciate you bringing me this information. You did right by Miss Donaghue. Would you do something else for me?”
“I sure will.”
“Find Casey Latimer—you might look first at Doc Hawkins’s clinic—and ask him to check in on the brothers while I ride out.”
“Right away, Sheriff.” Clete smashed his hat back on his head of thin brown hair, pulled the collar up on his thick coat, and stepped back into the cold.
Excerpt from "Briley of Crooked Creek" copyright © MK McClintock
I hope you make time every now and then to escape into a good book and relax with a pot of tea, or your beverage of choice, and a tasty treat.
The Beverage: Gypsy Cold Care tea by Traditional Medicinals (it's a favorite)
The Treat: Irish Soda Bread* served with Wild Maine Blueberry Jam from Stonewall Kitchen
The Book: "Briley of Crooked Creek," is available as part of The Women of Crooked Creek
*Traditional Irish Soda Bread doesn't have variations, so I gave you a link to a nice, simple recipe that is like the one I use in terms of ingredient measurements. It's such an easy bread to make, and with only four ingredients it's also inexpensive and doesn't time much time.According to The Society for the Preservation of Irish Soda Bread, "Anything else added makes it a 'Tea Cake!'"
The Crooked Creek Series
Updated: Mar 13
Set in post-Civil War Montana Territory, in the mountain valley town of Whitcomb Springs, is a community of strong men and women who have worked to overcome individual struggles faced during and after the war. Escape to Whitcomb Springs with tales of adventure, danger, romance, and hope in this special collection of short stories and novelettes. Each story is written to stand alone.
Did you know: "During the dark days of the Civil War, Lincoln looked away from the fighting momentarily and decided the area now known as Montana needed governing. But violent clashes were to occur in the new territory before it became the 41st state in the Union on November 8, 1889." (americaslibrary.gov)
About the town of Whitcomb Springs
Founded in 1860 by Daniel and Evelyn Whitcomb, in what was then the Nebraska Territory, the mountain town of Whitcomb Springs started with a trading post (now the general store) and two cabins. Daniel and two friends from Pennsylvania, James Bair and Charles Carroll, founded the Whitcomb Timber Company in 1860. James Bair died the first winter after arriving in Montana, caught in a blizzard unawares. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, Daniel and Charles returned east to fight for the Union, believing it their duty to their country and their home state of Pennsylvania. Read more of the abridged history >
Enjoy an Excerpt from "Forsaken Trail"
Abigail knew the animal was aware of her location. It landed back on all fours and approached the base of the tree. The heavy breathing and snorting filled the silence.
“I don’t suppose we can work something out?” she called down to the bear, feeling foolish but not knowing what else to do. “Why don’t you go your way and I’ll go mine?”
Abigail covered her ears and pulled herself as close to the tree trunk as possible. The bear turned its head toward the sound of the gunfire before dropping on all fours. Another bullet hit the tree near the bear's head. The bear snorted again and after the third shot hit the ground a few feet away, the animal turned away from the tree and headed across the clearing to the forest. Abigail kept her tight hold on the branches and didn't look down when she heard the sound of a horse beneath her.
"If you can manage to climb back down, he's gone."
"Yes, but now you're here." Abigail thought she heard a chuckle. She dared a glance but couldn't see much of the man's face, shadowed by his hat.
"I can ride away if you prefer, ma'am, but there isn't another soul likely to come by today." After a minute of silence, she heard a loud sigh. "If you aren't coming down, the least you can do is explain what happened to Tuttle."
"You know—knew—Mr. Tuttle?"
The man below her didn't answer right away. She heard movement and saw he was no longer on his horse.
"I did. Looks like a broken neck."
She squeezed her eyes shut and asked, "Did the bear . . . make it worse?" She dared not ask if the bear tore the poor man apart.
Silence.
"Sir?"
Another chuckle. "No one calls me sir, ma'am. The bear probably figured Tuttle wasn't going anywhere. He was more interested in finding out what crawled up the tree."
"I didn't crawl!" Abigail realized the ridiculousness of her situation and studied the branches beneath her. The climb down wasn't too far. One of her petticoats was caught on a protruding branch. She shifted and the delicate fabric ripped even more. "I don't suppose you'll tell me the truth, but if I come down, will you promise not to harm me?"
"Interesting question seeing as how if I wanted to harm you, I'd've come up after you by now or shot you out of the tree straight away. The bear was more dangerous, and I gallantly, if I may add, chased the bear away."
Excerpt from "Forsaken Trail" copyright © MK McClintock
I hope you make time every now and then to escape into a good book and relax with a pot of tea, or your beverage of choice, and a tasty treat.
The Beverage: Hot cocoa with cinnamon stick
The Treat: Pumpkin Spice Mini Cakes (see below)
The Books: View all currently available stories in the Whitcomb Springs series.
Pumpkin Spice Mini Cakes
Pumpkin, spice, and everything nice fills the air . . . My mother loves setting up tablescapes—big or small—and she has a lot of fun putting these spreads together, so this is all her handy work.
This delicious Pumpkin Spice Mini Cake recipe is courtesy of Victoria Magazine's Fall Baking 2020 issue. Their Special Issues are among my favorites, especially the holiday and baking editions.
The cakes are moist and carry plenty of flavor, without overpowering. There's a nice balance of pumpkin and spice in this recipe. Of course, there's an added touch of allspice for an extra little "punch."
These tasty treats need no embellishment beyond a simple dusting of confectioner's sugar.
Every bite manages to be both light and rich. The cake turned out nice and moist, and other than the additional of 1/2 tsp of allspice, we didn't modify the recipe.
I highly recommend ordering Victoria Magazine's Fall Baking 2020 issue for this and a variety of other recipes. They also have a digital edition.
