Free A Log Cabin Christmas by Wanda E. Brunstetter

heating with embarrassment. He hated how easily he blushed.
    “Are ya gettin’ cold feet?”
    “Of course not. I was just thinking about how Elizabeth and her friend, Helen, are going to the cabin to do some cleaning today. I wish I could be there to help them.”
    “Why can’t ya be?”
    David glanced across the room, noting the bakery wagon he’d been about to work on. Then there was an emerald-green carriage needing a new set of wheels, a coal-box buggy that was only half built, and the town coach the banker had brought in yesterday for new axles and springs. “I have too much work to do here right now. I promised to have the bakery wagon done by the end of next week, not to mention the other orders we have waiting.” Some days could be a bit overwhelming, but David was grateful for the work and good relationships he’d been building with his customers. He was also humbled by their trust in the fine craftsman he was proving himself to be.
    “Maybe you can go over to the cabin when you’re done workin’ today,” Gus suggested.
    “That’s what I’m hoping to do.” David leaned the piece of wood against the wall.
    Gus moved closer to David. “You still gonna live in the log cabin after you and Elizabeth are married?”
    David nodded.
    “Wouldn’t ya rather live at the hotel your granddaddy owns? It’d be closer to your shop and has a lot more conveniences than the cabin.”
    “It wouldn’t be our own place, and all we’d have is one small room.”
    “That dinky old cabin ain’t much bigger than a hotel room.” Gus snorted like an old bull.
    “It’s big enough for our needs, and once my business grows, I can either add on to the cabin or have a house built for us here in town.”
    Just then, David’s mother rushed into the shop, wearing no shawl around her shoulders, despite the chilly day. “Come quickly, David! Your grandfather fell from a ladder, and he doesn’t respond!” Her hazel-colored eyes were wide with fear, and a lock of reddish-brown hair had come loose from the chignon at the back of her head. David figured she must have run all the way here.
    “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” David called to Gus. He grabbed his mother’s hand, and they rushed out the door.

Chapter 2
    W hen David and his mother entered the hotel foyer, he was surprised to see his grandfather standing behind the front desk, where the hotel guests were greeted. He appeared to be unhurt. Had Mother made the whole thing up just to get him to come over here? If so, what was the reason? He was about to ask when Mother swooped across the room and rushed to Grandpa’s side.
    “Papa, are you okay?” She clutched his arm so tightly that David wondered if she would bruise the old man’s skin.
    After Grandma had died of pneumonia three years ago, Mother had been overprotective of Grandpa. Then when David’s father was killed a year later in an accident at the steel mill, she’d almost smothered Grandpa to death.
    “I’m fine, Carolyn,” Grandpa said, pushing her hand away. “Just had the wind knocked out of me when I fell. If you hadn’t rushed out of here so quickly, I’d have told you that.”
    “But you weren’t responding to anything I said. You were just lying on the floor with your eyes closed. That’s why I went to get David.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes—no doubt in an effort to calm herself.
    Grandpa’s gaze shifted to David, who had moved to stand beside his mother. “Were you working at the carriage shop?” he questioned.
    David nodded.
    “I’m sorry she bothered you for nothing.” Grandpa looked at Mother and then back at David. “You know how emotional your mother can be. She probably thought I was dead.”
    “That’s exactly what I thought,” Mother said with a catch in her voice.
    “Grandpa, what were you doing on the ladder?” David asked.
    “I was trying to straighten that.” Grandpa motioned to the slightly crooked oil painting hanging above an enormous