Summer Holiday

by Nancy Campbell Allen

  Her head spun.

  “We are prepared to offer a respectable salary increase, of course. I’ll not ask for your answer tonight, but be aware that if you decide against it, your original application for shopgirl manager of the Linens, Gloves, and Ribbons Department has been approved. You may accept that position instead.”

  Tessa inhaled and straightened in her seat. “I am incredibly honored and will have a decision for you Monday morning.”

  He smiled. “Excellent. And now, I am off to enjoy a rousing variety and musical show on Middle Pier. I hear this town’s entertainments rival all others.”

  “I’ve found that to be true.” They stood, and he shook her hand.

  “Until Monday, then.”

  He left, and she stared at the door he closed quietly behind him. She put a hand to her forehead, wondering if she’d been knocked in the head. Movement caught her eye, and she saw David leaning against the doorjamb between his office and the conference room.

  He watched her quietly, a smile lifting on one side.

  The answer to her next question would fill her with emotion, whether joy or sadness she didn’t know. “Did you suggest that to him? Was it your idea?”

  He shook his head. “On the life of my family and all I hold dear, it was Phillip’s suggestion after watching you today. He’d intended the position to be implemented regardless, and he witnessed a master ringleader at work.”

  She put her hand to her midsection and exhaled. A laugh bubbled up and escaped, and she doubled over. David was at her side in a flash.

  “You realize, of course, that Blight helped me after all?”

  His brow wrinkled.

  “Had he not thrown the puppy and baby at me today, I’d not have had a circus to perform in.”

  “Did you ever locate the mother?”

  She nodded. “A flower girl.”

  He shook his head and managed a grim smile. “I hate him.” He took both of her hands. “You were never able to turn in your scavenger hunt items, though, and I’m disappointed about that, so I am going to present them to you instead. I convinced Mr. Gibbons to open your cabinet and give me the satchel. Come.”

  He pulled her into his office and patted his desktop. While she sat, he closed the drapes over the large windows that overlooked the promenade. “All that work to preserve your reputation, and here we sit behind glass for all to see.”

  She laughed, and he plunked the satchel next to her on the desk.

  “Here is what I find meaningful in these objects. This one.” He pulled out a small piece of paper. “This is a receipt for the Italian ice we were eating when I realized I was falling in love with you.”

  She bit her lip, and he turned her hand palm up and placed the paper in it.

  “This envelope contains the hair from a Judy puppet. It is significant because it represents your resourcefulness in carrying scissors at the ready and your amazing ability to charm anyone, anywhere.” He added the small envelope to her hand.

  “This is marzipan candy I bought earlier from Mr. Frederickson. I was angry that, after all our running around, we weren’t able to enjoy even one piece of it. You were resourceful and clever, even when your opponent cheated.” The treat joined the pile in her hand.

  “This cameo is quite the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen, but it is perhaps one of your most amazing accomplishments. You were clever to think of Mr. Timely, but not only that, you had built a relationship with him beforehand that helped facilitate this small, ugly miracle.”

  She laughed, feeling misty-eyed again, and he clipped the brooch to her blouse.

  “This bolt from beneath the Ferris wheel reinforced your clear ability to follow through. Max and I both offered to get a bolt for you, but you insisted on following the rules of that ridiculous search and did it the right way.

  “This is the ribbon you used today to make a leash for that ridiculous dog, who has no known owner, I understand.”

  She nodded and sniffed. “Val has it.”

  “I was never prouder of someone in my life than watching you today.” He tied the ribbon around her wrist in a big bow. “These bite marks in the ribbon show where the puppy rebelled.”

  She laughed.

  “This is the paper signed by the water polo team, all of whom ogled you like lechers.”

  She scoffed.

  “True, it’s true. But you let me cover your eyes in good fun, and you laughed. And it made me realize, as if I needed the reminder, that I was fortunate indeed to be the man by your side.”

  She shook her head, tears building in earnest.

  “And my favorite piece of the lot.” He pulled out the strongman receipt. He grinned and stepped between her knees. “Must I truly explain why?”

  She laughed, and the tears spilled over. He took the items piled in her hand and set them aside. Without bothering with any further sentiments or pretty words, he slid his arms around her and lowered his lips to hers. He waged a gentle assault against her senses, and a slow burn began in her midsection, spreading until she thought she’d go up in flames.

  She clutched his lapels, knowing that even if he kissed her forever, it wouldn’t be long enough. She sighed, exhausted and euphoric. And every painful, emotional moment had been worth the reward. She would accept the first position Phillip had offered, and she would set a trend for other shopgirls to follow. She’d reconciled herself to the fact that David had helped her—half the town had helped her—and despite not doing it all on her own, she was better for it.

  Perhaps the most amazing thing of all was that she’d fallen in love with a man she’d known for a week. She knew it in her heart, deep down where she kept the hopes and dreams she thought she’d outgrown. He pulled her closer, and she sighed as he trailed his lips along her neck.

  “I adore you, Tessa Baker.”

  She smiled and closed her eyes. “And I you, Conte Bellini.”

  One Year Later

  Valentine fluffed Tessa’s long wedding train and smiled encouragingly at her. “You’re stunning,” she murmured, “and your groom is absolutely besotted.”

  They stood just outside the enormous chapel doors in the largest church Tessa had ever seen. A month spent in Italy with David and his family still hadn’t prepared her for the butterflies that now plagued her insides. His parents were kind and welcoming, his mother especially hilarious. His brothers were charming; Valentine’s cousin Eva had become a friend and confidante; and Tessa loved David so much it was like a lovely ache.

  She was deliriously happy and wondered if she should pinch herself. Valentine had given birth four months earlier to a baby boy Tessa adored. Her work was challenging yet rewarding, and David had been patient enough to postpone the wedding until Tessa was well and truly settled into her new job. His patience was especially impressive, given the fact that he’d asked her to marry him one short month after that fateful, crazy day filled with urinating puppies, a crying mystery baby, and more mayhem than the store had ever seen. For eleven months now, she’d been busy but anxious to know she and David were well and truly bound.

  Her father cracked the door open from inside the chapel and smiled. “Are we ready, then?”

  “More than ready.”

  “That is good because I believe the groom will faint if you don’t show your face—and soon.”

  Tessa glanced back at Valentine, who held the train with teary eyes and blew her a kiss. Her father helped her place her veil, and she threaded her arm through his. He nodded to the page boys, the doors swung open, and the aisle stretched interminably. At the end, however, stood David, too handsome for words, watching her approach slowly.

  She was impatient suddenly and wanted to run the length of the aisle, throw her arms around him, and kiss him soundly in front of the whole world. She smiled, and when her father relinquished her hand to David’s, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was her home, her heart, her other half. He caught her gaze through the filmy veil and winked. He linked their fingers togethe
r, despite the fact that such was not a part of their scripted ceremony, and her lips twitched in a smile as she held her bouquet with one hand.

  The words of the ceremony washed over her in Latin, Italian, English—she didn’t even know—but finally they spoke their vows, placed their rings, and he lifted the veil away. He placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her, maintaining the contact long enough that his brothers chortled. A cheer echoed to the ceiling, and she laughed.

  He smiled, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Cara mia,” David murmured in her ear. “Ti amo.”

  “Ti amo, my handsome conte. Ti amo moltissimo.”

  The End

  Click on the covers to visit Nancy’s website:

  About Nancy Campbell Allen

  Nancy Campbell Allen (N.C. Allen) is the author of 11 published novels, which encompass a variety of genres from contemporary romantic suspense to historical fiction. Her Civil War series, Faith of our Fathers, won the Utah Best of State award in 2005 and all three of her historicals featuring Isabelle Webb, Pinkerton spy, have been nominated for the Whitney Award. Her formal schooling includes a B.S. in Elementary Education from Weber State University and she has worked as a freelance editor, contributing to the recent release, We Knew Howard Hughes, by Jim Whetton.

  Nancy served as the Teen Writers Conference chair in 2011 and 2012, and has presented at numerous conferences and events since her initial publication in 1999 with Covenant Communications. Her agent is Pam Victorio of Foreword Literary, and she is currently writing a series of Gothic Steampunk novels and other short novellas. Nancy loves to read, write, travel and research, and enjoys spending time laughing with family and friends. She and her husband have three children, and she lives in Ogden, Utah with her family and one very large Siberian Husky named Thor.

  Visit Nancy’s blog: http://NCAllen.blogspot.com

  Twitter: @necallen

  However Long the Wait

  By Sarah M. Eden

  Chapter One

  Rafton, Staffordshire, 1870

  There were few sights Carina Herrick found more inspiring than the billow of steam rising from a distant train. The back meadow of her family estate afforded a view of the tracks crossing the plain below. She never tired of watching it and wondering who sat inside, where they were going, if they would return. A train held hundreds of stories, each unique, each important in its own way.

  Did the passengers ever glance up this hill and wonder who she was, where she dreamed of going, how she imagined her life playing out? Hers was not an exciting tale with a mysterious ending, but she thought it lovely just the same. Indeed, her reason for standing at the far end of the meadow was a fine one, a glorious one. This was where she came each day to talk with Grant Ambrose, the gentleman she meant to one day marry.

  She had known him a couple of years, though their connection had only grown romantic over the past few months. He was good and kind. He treated her with tenderness and real regard. She was happier in his company than in anyone else’s.

  Her days were spent counting down the hours until she could meet him in their designated place. Here, amongst the trees and flowers, the vista of fields and rolling valleys, and the puff of passing trains, she’d fallen endlessly in love with him.

  He’d told her not a fortnight earlier of his dream to one day oversee a portfolio of investments, to have his hand in new and exciting business ventures. Her family was what society called “old money.” While she did not doubt her father invested in various undertakings, such things were not discussed or mentioned. To be directly involved in business of any kind was considered beneath their dignity. For Grant to share that dream with her showed enormous trust, something that touched her more than he likely knew. He wanted her to be a part of his hopes and his ambitions. He’d asked after hers as well.

  When she’d told him of her time spent watching the train and imagining far-off places and adventures, he hadn’t laughed, neither had he insisted she be sensible, as her mother had on the one occasion Carina had been foolish enough to divulge her wonderings. Grant had urged her to speak more of it, to imagine more specifically, to share with him the places she longed to see and visit, not merely those she imagined others traveling to.

  With him, she felt alive and valued, as if all things were possible. With him, she felt loved.

  He turned the corner of the shrubbery lined path he always took from his family home to this particular spot. A warm blanket of peace and contentment settled over her as she watched him approach.

  Someday, I will have his companionship in more than mere snippets. Someday, his home and mine will be the same.

  Grant moved at a faster clip than usual, his movements filled with purpose and an unmistakable eagerness. Did he have news? His uncle, a vastly successful man of business, was visiting from Lancashire, and Grant had hoped to find some favor in the man’s eyes. He wished to learn all he could about the path he meant to pursue.

  His eyes met hers, and Grant began to run. He reached her side in no time at all and, unlike their usual staid greetings, he wrapped his arms about her and lifted her from the ground, spinning her in a gleeful circle. The colorful trees all around them blurred into a rainbow of autumn hues.

  A giggle escaped her lips, which did not happen often. She laughed out the syllable of his name. He was a happy person, but this degree of joy was unprecedented.

  He set her on her feet but did not release his hold on her. “I spoke with my uncle.”

  He could not seem to hold entirely still, as if the words he held back danced inside him. His eyes shone with excitement. He made no effort to conceal his smile.

  “Tell me all before you burst.” Her own enthusiasm grew with every heartbeat. She did not know precisely what he meant to say, but his eagerness was contagious.

  Grant took her hands in his, his eyes sparkling. “I told him all I am learning and studying. I also told him of my interest in business pursuits. He was impressed, Carina. He said as much himself.”

  “How could he not be?” Her words bounced about with the excitement building inside her.

  He grinned. “You may think highly of me, but that is not a universal opinion.”

  “Nonsense.”

  How she loved the sound of his quiet, gentle laugh. It suited him perfectly. “Never let it be said that you are not a fierce defender of those you care for.”

  “As are you,” she reminded him. “I will never forget you coming to my rescue when Mr. Baskon was being so terrible.” Mr. Baskon, a widower nearly three times her age, had been unrelenting in his unwanted attention to her at a local assembly a few weeks earlier. Grant had neatly removed him from the room and, though she did not know what transpired between the two men, Mr. Baskon had not returned. Somehow, Grant had managed it without drawing undue attention.

  “He has not continued to bother you, has he?” True concern touched his words.

  “He has not,” she assured him. “I am grateful for that.”

  “As am I.” He pulled her arm through his and walked with her along the edge of the meadow.

  “What transpired in your discussion with your uncle?” she pressed.

  “He was impressed with the knowledge I have already acquired and says I have a good head on my shoulders.” He beamed with pride. Carina felt certain her own pride shone on her face as well. “He wishes to take me under his wing, to personally oversee my continued education in business matters and pursuits. I am to be a junior partner.”

  “Oh, Grant.” This was all they could possibly have hoped for.

  “He has no sons of his own, and neither of his daughters married men who are interested in joining their father-in-law’s business.”

  “He has no heir?”

  Grant made a gesture somewhere between a shrug and a shake of his head. “It is not quite the same as inherited estates. He will leave a great deal of money to his daughters, but the interests of the company, the future running of it, is independent of that.”
<
br />   Her family, he knew well, belonged to the world of entailments and the need for heirs to protect future generations. His family, though of good standing and firmly entrenched in the gentry, were not as tied to those things. Their status had grown in only two generations from the bottom rung, with little beyond a bit of land here and there to sustain them, to a family of significant and increasing wealth accumulated through shrewd investments and the active pursuit of industry.

  She did not entirely understand the world in which his past and present existed, but neither did he entirely understand hers. It was the future that most concerned them, not the past. And for many weeks they had spoken of that future in terms of togetherness.

  “Your uncle, then, wishes you to take over the running of the businesses when he is no longer able or no longer wishes to do so?”

  He nodded. “Those businesses are very successful, and he will teach me to keep them that way. The path before me has always seemed uncertain, but I need no longer worry on that score.”

  He would have an income and stability. They might at last move from vague ideas of their future together to actually planning and building it. She could not hold back her joy. His smile spoke of the same feelings.

  “I will have to work swiftly tonight to have everything in readiness,” he said as they continued walking, a light breeze rustling the stiff leaves around them, sending a few fluttering to the ground. “My uncle is generous, but he is also very strict. I fear if I delay him at all in the morning, I will simply be left behind.”

  As if nature herself were as stunned as Carina, the wind grew still.

  “In the morning?” The question emerged quieter than she’d intended.