Seven- a holiday exerpt

Christmas Eve
New York City, 1799

A light snow began to fall over the great city of New York. Ichabod Crane made his way down the quiet, cobblestone street, shivering in the cold. He blew into his glove-covered hands, grateful when he reached number seven, Chesnut Street. A faint orange glow from the parlour window caught the young Constable's eye, and he frowned slightly. `Do not tell me they are up at this ridiculous hour of the night!' he shook his head in disbelief.

Ichabod kicked his black leather boot against the door, trying to bang off as much snow as possible. Inside, Young Masbath lit the last tiny candle attached to the medium-sized Christmas tree, while Katrina hung the last of the bright green holly along the fireplace mantle.

"He's home!" Young Masbath cried with delight, blowing out the match quickly. Katrina glanced over her shoulder after hearing the knocking, and she quickly abandoned her post. "I'll go and let him in!" The boy dashed out of the room and threw open the front door, revealing a startled Ichabod. Before the Constable knew what was happening, he was embraced tightly by the young lad and practically dragged inside. "We've waited for you, sir!" Young Masbath exclaimed. "We've been expectorating you for HOURS!"

Ichabod chuckled, ruffling the boy's short, black hair. "That's expecting," he corrected with a small smile.

Katrina soon approached them, beaming as she threw her arms around her husband, kissing his icy cheek. "Oh my love, you're frozen!" she led him into the parlour to stand before the fire, but Ichabod stopped short in the doorway. The parlour looked so different than from when he had left earlier that morning.

Katrina and Young Masbath were grinning at each other. "What do you think, love?" Katrina asked, linking her arm through Ichabod's. He tried to speak, but could not find the proper words. Katrina gently ordered Young Masbath to fetch a mug of hot, mulled cider, and her husband's robe and slippers while she removed his soaking overcoat, hanging it up to dry.

"Sit down, Ichabod. You must be exhausted," she insisted.

Ichabod stared at her, doing as he was told. "When did you do all of this?" he finally asked, watching the ward come into the parlour again with a large, steaming mug in his hand and a soft, cotton robe over his arm. The slippers dangled from his fingertips, and he managed to set everything down without dropping them.

"Never mind that." Katrina watched as he gratefully accepted the cider, and sipped from it, smiling as Young Masbath began to untie his boots. "How is your health?" she added.

"Fair." Ichabod admitted. "I sneezed six times when I first got into the court house this morning, and I had to convince my superiors that I was in deed well enough to patrol today."

Katrina sighed. "Running about in this weather after you recently recovered from pneumonia!" she clucked her tongue.

"Life must go on, my dear. Ah...thank you, Young Masbath." Ichabod grunted as the last boot was removed, and he allowed the boy to slide his slippers on.

"You sound as though you still have a cold." Katrina sighed. "You're still a bit congested."

Ichabod pulled her close, and kissed her lips. "I'll be all right. Now tell me...when did this magic happen?"

Young Masbath curled at Ichabod's feet, letting the flames warm his slightly pale cheeks.

"While you were on duty, Mouse and I went to fetch a tree, and we went into town to do a bit of shopping." She rubbed Ichabod's hands, which were cold as well. "You needed a bit of cheer when you returned."

"Cheer?"

"It's Christmas, sir!" Young Masbath cried.

"Ah..." Ichabod frowned slightly.

Young Masbath stared. "You don't look excited, sir..."

Katrina caressed Ichabod's forehead. "So what are our plans for tomorrow night? Am I finally going to meet your family?"

"My mother is dead, Katrina, I told you this. And I have not seen my father in years...I am certain he is dead as well."

Katrina shook her head. "Aunts, Uncles, Cousins?"

Ichabod lowered his eyes. "I have no family."

"You have us, then." Young Masbath announced, resting his forehead against Ichabod's knees. Katrina grinned.

"Well put, mouse!" she complimented.

Ichabod smiled slightly. "I never celebrated Christmas, actually," he admitted, blushing. "I spent most of them in my laboratory..."

"You'll do nothing of the sort this year!" Katrina interrupted.

Ichabod sniffed, shivering. "I can not seem to warm up." He whispered.

"I'll fetch another blanket, sir." Young Masbath stood up and rushed out of the room.

Katrina watched him leave before perching on Ichabod's lap. "Such a dear boy. He was a great help to me today. She whispered, kissing the tip of Ichabod's nose. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the faint but steady beating of his heart. She felt Ichabod wrap his arms around her, not surprised by the weakness of the hug. Young Masbath shortly returned with a heavy patchwork quilt, and wrapped both of them in it.

"Ding dong merrily on high..." the boy began to sing softly. "In heavn' the bells are ringing..."

Katrina's eyes were sparkling as she joined in. "Ding dong merrily the sky...is risen with angels singing..."

Ichabod finished the last of his sweeet cider, setting the empty mug on the floor, able to embrace his wife fully now, taking in her soft, sunflower scent. "Young Masbath..." he began. "I believe it is time for you to go to sleep. It is already very late."

"And the sooner you do so, the sooner you will receive your gifts!" Katrina laughed as the child stood quickly. Young Masbath quickly kissed both Katrina and Ichabod on the cheek before embracing them.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Mouse." Ichabod whispered, rubbing the lad's back before he took off upstairs. When he was gone, Katrina sighed again.

"Well...now what?" she asked, running the tip of her finger down the bridge of his nose. Ichabod's breath suddenly hitched, and he quicly fetched his handkerchief from his trouser pocket.

"HUHISHHHHH! ESHHHHH!" he sneezed violently twice, making her jump, startled.

"God bless!" she gasped, frowning. "You may have to go to bed shortly as well, love. I do not want you catching a chill on Christmas day."

Ichabod cleared his throat. "It would be my luck if I do," he grumbled. "ESHHHHHUH! HUSHHHHUH!"

Katrina slid down to the floor, helping Ichabod to his feet. "Let me take care of you." She encouraged, allowing him to wrap his arm around her waist for support, and brought him up the darkened steps. "We will have a good Christmas, Ichabod." She insisted, rubbing his back. "I promise."