Free The Rough Rider by Gilbert Morris

slowly and carefully and said, “Well—come in, I guess.”
    “Isn’t Jeb here?” Gail asked, disappointed at not seeing her brother.
    “Yeah, I’m here!” Jeb came sailing out of the bedroom. He had grown over the past year and was at least six inches taller. At twelve, he was still thin and lanky and shooting up like a weed. “What’re you doing here, sis?”
    She went over and wrapped her arms around him and said, “I’m here to play Santa Claus. It’s not Christmas yet, but I couldn’t wait! How are all of you?” She looked over to where Bart, Riley, and Pearl were sitting on the couch looking a little sheepish at her appearance. They mumbled their greetings, and Gail felt the tension in the room. Quickly she said, “Well, here’s something all of you can enjoy! Let’s have it, Doctor!”
    Burns set his bundle down awkwardly, reached into thesack, and brought out a smaller package. “The prize bird!” he said proudly, holding up a huge plucked chicken. “Already smoked and the fattest hen we could find!” He put it on the table and added to it a cake and several other good things to eat.
    Martha reached out and touched the huge chicken with a trembling finger. “I haven’t seen a bird like this in a long time,” she whispered quietly. “It’ll be so good!”
    “Well, that takes care of Christmas dinner. Now, here’s what I brought you, Ma.” Gail brought out a package that contained a warm black coat, a pair of real gloves, and a new hat. “This will keep you warm!” She looked at her mother, who was holding the garments almost reverently, stroking the fine wool.
    Gail patted her and said, “Now, Pa, this is for you!” She handed him a package, and when Lawson sat there staring at it helplessly, she said, “Go on—open it! It won’t bite you.”
    Lawson stared at her with a strange look in his red-veined eyes, then fumbled at the paper, opened it, and held up a pair of fine leather gloves with wool lining inside.
    “I know how you hate for your hands to be cold, Pa. These ought to last you a long time,” Gail said.
    Harry Lawson had not said thank you often in his life. Now he sat there staring at the gloves as if they had suddenly appeared magically. He could not seem to speak, and it was only when Pearl said, “Go on, Pa—try them on,” that he awkwardly tugged them onto his large hands. He sat there looking at them, and finally he lifted his eyes and whispered, “Thank you, daughter. It was a kind thought.”
    It was Jeb’s turn then, and to his delight, he got not only a fine new pair of boots just his size but also a bone-handled pocketknife that he had wanted for years. He stood holding them, and then gave his sister a broad smile that made it all worthwhile. “Thank you, Gail,” he said. “I ain’t ever gonna forget this Christmas.”
    Gail passed out the remaining gifts to Bart, Riley, and Pearl, who sheepishly received them, mumbling their thank-you’s.
    Finally, when all the gifts had been opened, Martha said, “I wish we had something to give you, Gail, but we don’t.”
    “Oh, that’s all right, Ma. Next year things will be better, you’ll see!” A spasm of coughing came from her stepfather and she said, “Pa, are you not feeling well?”
    “He had a spell three weeks ago,” Martha said quickly.
    “What was it?” Burns inquired, at once aware of the pale face of the big man. He walked over and said, “I’ve got some free medical advice leftover from last year. I wouldn’t mind looking you over while I’m here.”
    “Please do, Doctor!” Martha said. “He ain’t been right since then. Go on into the bedroom, Harry. Let the doctor examine you.”
    Harry got to his feet and mumbled, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt since you’re already here.” He moved slowly and carefully into the bedroom, and Gail noticed that he was rubbing his chest strangely.
    While the two were in the bedroom, Gail told the family about her certificate for completing the