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"What are you girls making such a fuss over?" asked Josiah, coming to the window to see for himself. "A bear! Emma, fetch my Hawken!"

Josiah hadn't needed to say a word, for Emma was already going for his rifle. If Josiah could shoot this bear, it would mean fresh meat for Christmas!

The bear seemed oblivious to his peril, and casually lumbered by the cabin as though he were king of the mountain. At first, Emma thought it was a grizzly, but she recognized the dark fur and smaller size, and knew it was a black bear-- something they had back in Indiana.

Taking careful aim, Josiah brought down the bear with just one shot. Reloading his Hawken, Josiah pulled the bar off the door, and then cautiously approached the fallen bear. After nudging it with his foot, he grinned back at the girls standing in the doorway. "We got meat!"

"Praise the Lord!" Emma said happily.

Josiah scowled. "I was the one what shot him-- not God."

"God brought the bear to our cabin, and you didn't even have to go hunting."

Josiah was getting frustrated. "The bear woke up, and left its den to explore! God had nothing to do with it!"

Folding her arms, Emma looked patiently at Josiah. "Then, you don't have to have any Christmas supper. Mary has been praying for fresh meat, and God brought it to our door. I call that an answer to prayer."

"Answer, nothing!" The cold was biting into Josiah's bare chest, but he ignored it with clenched teeth. "When are you going to get it into yer thick skull that God doesn't care! The only time He pays attention to me, is to make my life harder!"

When Josiah's frame gave an involuntary shudder from the cold, Emma's concern shifted. "You're freezing, Mr. Brown. Before you begin harvesting the meat, I'd better fetch your capote."

Grudgingly, Josiah entered the lodge, causing Mary to scamper behind Emma while she pulled out the heavy blanket coat.

"Best stand watch with yer shotgun, Emma. That bear will be attracting animals soon."

"I will," nodded Emma, handing the warm coat to her husband. "Please, Mr. Brown, let's not quarrel. Not now-- not so soon before Christmas."

"You think a lot of that Christmas of yers, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"At least we'll be gnawing something besides jerky," Josiah shrugged on his coat and then tied the sash shut to keep the garment closed. Retrieving a sharp trading knife from his belongings, he stepped out the door, muttering into the air about too much religion.

As Emma wrapped herself in some warm blankets to go outside, she saw Mary's distressed face. "I know, Little One. Your pa has a lot to answer for, but that's why we must pray for his soul. Will you do that? Will you help me pray?"

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