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Jamie smiled at his daughter as she padded quietly into the kitchen, clutching her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The snow had started the night before, and was piled in drifts waist-high outside the new Big House. It was impossible to see outside – impossible to leave the house – so he’d wanted to keep all of his family close. That was why Jem and wee Mandy had been tucked away in one of the spare bedrooms on the third floor – it would be easier to protect them, and Brianna and Roger, if need be.
Claire looked up briefly as Brianna entered and sat across from them at the kitchen table, before bending back to her work. The bones in Jamie’s maimed hand always ached something fierce during rain and snowstorms, and she was taking advantage of the warm glow of the kitchen fire to gently rub a comfrey salve into his stiff joints. “All settled, then?”
Brianna nodded, propping her chin on folded hands. “Yeah – though they’re both too excited to be sleeping over again to go to sleep. Roger is telling them all about Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus? Is that Spanish?”
Claire snorted. “We called him Father Christmas, in England. He’s – well, he’s a jolly old man who visits everyone’s house on Christmas eve. He leaves presents for the children, and they leave him cookies and milk in thanks.”
“A strange old man who visits yer home in the dead of night?” Jamie’s brows rose in alarm. “Wi’ presents for the weans? Wouldn’t they be scared to death?”
Brianna’s brows knit. “No, Da – the kids are too focused on getting their presents. Really, though – it’s just the parents giving their kids gifts.”
“It doesna matter, a nighean. Wouldn’t you be scared if I let strange men just come and go as they please?”
Claire tugged on Jamie’s hand so he would meet her gaze. “It’s just a story we tell – or will tell – the children, to get them to sleep on Christmas Eve.”
Jamie shook his head. “I dinna ken why any parent would feel safe, knowing that a strange old man was creeping around the house in the dark. A good father keeps his family protected from all strangers, and defends his house from intruders.” He narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “Why are ye smiling? I dinna understand why ye’d encourage the man to visit. We only leave food out for the Wee Folk so that they don’t bother us. And yet ye say all the bairns actually want this man to come?”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Da –”
“Did you raise her to believe in such things, Sassenach?” His knee nudged Claire’s, teasing.
Claire focused on his hand once more – but he could hear the smile in her voice. “It gave her a bit of magic in her life – though God knows she already had quite the imagination. Just like her father.”
“Mmphmm.” Jamie bent to gently kiss Claire’s forehead. “Ah, well. I suppose the lass turned out all right, anyway – even if ye filled her heid wi’ such nonsense.”