13
Holly woke with her heart pounding with excitement. It was Christmas day. Dawn had broken and Holly could make out the sky turning from slate to a paler shade of grey. Free of clouds and crisp as starched linen, the day promised to spread out wide like a starched sheet.
Quickly, she got out of bed and dressed. Her breath came out in gusts of vapor. How cold it had turned overnight! Hopefully, the newborn foal and his recovering mother were warm. She hastened to pull on her woolen socks and Margaret's boots beneath her petticoat and long broadcloth skirt. Then, she splashed a bit of water on her face, pulled a brush through her hair, and drew a shawl over her blouse. It was time to start a fire in the stove.
As soon as she entered the main room, the smell of pine and sap and popcorn m
