The Christmas Quandary: Sweet Historical Holiday Romance (Hardman Holidays Book 5)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Yes, it is,” Lila said, brushing the crumbs from the child’s face then tweaking her nose. “Did everyone get one?”

  “Maybe even two,” Percy Bruner said, hurriedly snatching another cookie from the basket.

  “Let’s get to work,” Tom said. He set down his satchel then helped Lila remove her coat.

  An hour later, they reminded the children to come back on Friday for another practice, the last they would have before the program Monday evening.

  Tom walked Erin Dodd next door to the parsonage while Lila bundled Maura into her coat and gloves. He returned, shaking snow from his hat.

  “It’s snowing again?” Lila asked, noticing the coating of white on Tom’s shoulders.

  “It is. I hope all the children make it home before the storm kicks up,” he said.

  “All but the Jenkins kids live close to town. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Tom nodded. “I heard Percy mention something to Anna about taking her and the others home in his father’s delivery wagon.”

  Lila appeared relieved as she picked up the empty cookie basket and took Maura’s hand in hers.

  “Time to go home, honey bunny.”

  “I’s tired, Lila,” Maura whined, dragging her little toes as Lila led her to the door.

  “Oh, sweetheart, it isn’t far home and then you can have a nice rest before we eat dinner. How does that sound?” Lila asked, bending down to look in Maura’s angelic face.

  “Good. I wanna go home and see Cully and Mama and Daddy.” Maura’s eyes fluttered shut but she popped them back open.

  Tom shifted his satchel to his right hand and gathered Maura up on his left arm. “Would you mind if I carried you, Maura?”

  “Thanks, Mr. Grove,” she whispered. The child settled her head against his shoulder with an exhausted sigh.

  Tom grinned and looked down at her then winked at Lila. Although he’d never had much opportunity to hold children, he’d experienced plenty in the last few weeks he’d been back in town. He rather liked the feel of tiny arms around his neck. He didn’t even mind sticky fingers pulling on his hand or suit coat. And he especially enjoyed the childish sounds of laughter that rang around the school and the homes of his friends.

  “Thank you for carrying her, Tom. It’s so kind of you,” Lila said, keeping step with him as they strode along the boardwalk to Granger House.

  “Well, you can’t expect this tired girl to trudge home in the snow.” He smiled at Lila. “Besides, this gives me practice for when I have a little sister.”

  Lila’s right eyebrow rose upward. “How do you know you’ll get a sister? It could very well be a brother.”

  “Mark my words, the new addition at the Grove household will be a girl. Mama always wanted a daughter and I just know she’ll finally get one. What in the world would she do with another boy, especially if he turned out to be like me?”

  Lila smiled. “She’d likely be thrilled if she had another boy just like you, Tom Grove, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

  Baffled, he looked at her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you are one of a kind, my friend.”

  Tom remained silent as they followed the walk around to the back door of Granger House. He stepped over the dog as Bart lounged across the top step of the back porch and followed Lila inside the fragrant warmth of the house.

  Filly turned from the stove and stared at them as they trooped inside. “Is everything okay?” she asked, rushing over to Tom, holding out her arms for Maura.

  Half asleep, the child shifted from Tom to her mother like a limp rag doll. “I’s tired, Mama.”

  “Okay, baby.” Filly kissed her forehead, mouthed “thank you” to Tom, and hurried from the room.

  Tom helped Lila remove her coat, peeked at a sleeping Cullen in his cradle, then backed toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Lila. Have a pleasant evening.”

  “Won’t you stay for supper, Tom? We’d be happy to have you,” she said, poking in a few loose hairpins after she removed her hat and hung it by the door.

  “No, I really need to go. I’m glad you came by the school today, though, Lila. It was nice to see you again.” He took another step toward the door.

  “It was nice to see you, too. I may have to come back tomorrow, because I’m positively dying to know what happens in the story.” Lila took a step closer to him.

  If Tom didn’t know better, he’d say she was as reluctant for him to go as he was to leave. Something shimmered in the silvery depths of her eyes, something that gave him hope all was not yet lost.

  “About the other day, Tom, I wanted you to know…” Lila moved closer to him and placed her hand on his arm. “That is, I wanted to say how much…”

  The door opened and Emerson strolled inside, brushing snow from his shoulders and knocking it off his hat. “My goodness, when it decides to snow out here, it doesn’t hesitate at all, does it?” He looked up and noticed Lila standing near Tom. “Oh, hello.” He stuck a hand out Tom’s direction.

  Tom took it and offered the man a polite nod. “Good evening, Mr. Lylan. Enjoy the warmth and company of Granger House.”

  “I intend to, Mr. Grove. Are you not staying for dinner? It seems as though Luke and Filly have as many visitors for meals as a boarding house.”

  Tom laughed. “No, I’m not staying, but you wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment.” He darted a quick glance at Lila then opened the door. “Good night.”

  As he walked home through the blowing snow, Tom contemplated how hard he’d have to work to make Lila completely forget she’d agreed to wed Emerson.

  If the light shining in her eyes reflected what was in her heart, perhaps the battle wouldn’t be all uphill.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Tom! Tom Grove!”

  Tom stopped and turned to watch Ed Daily hurry toward him as the man exited the newspaper office. Mr. Daily had owned the newspaper for as long as Tom could remember. In between school and working on the farm, Tom had written several articles for the paper before he left for Portland.

  His mother had proudly cut each one out and saved it. As he recalled how naïve and young he’d been when he’d written those articles, he felt a little embarrassed. A career had to start somewhere. In truth, his had started with Mr. Daily and the Hardman newspaper.

  “Evening, Mr. Daily. May I help you with something?” Tom asked as the man thumped him on the back.

  “Possibly, Tom. Do you have plans for the evening?” Ed asked, keeping his beefy hand on Tom’s shoulder.

  “No, sir, other than grading a bunch of arithmetic assignments.” Tom glanced over at the older man, wondering what schemes the man was up to. Ed Daily most often had an underlying motive for everything he did. Inviting a former employee to dinner out of the blue smacked of some purpose other than catching up on something as trivial as the weather, or how Tom liked teaching school.

  “Perfect. Come home with me for dinner. I’ve got something I want to discuss with you.” Ed turned a corner, still maintaining his hold on Tom, as though he feared it he let go, he might disappear.

  “I wouldn’t want to present an imposition to your wife, sir.” Tom hesitated, but Ed nudged him onward.

  “No imposition at all. I told her at lunch I may bring home a guest for dinner.” Ed held open the gate to his yard and motioned Tom to precede him. “Over the years, she’s grown accustomed to an extra mouth or two popping up at mealtimes.”

  Tom grinned. “She and Filly Granger would have that in common, then.”

  Ed laughed. “I imagine so. Ginny can’t boil water without nearly burning down the house and Dora and Greg are frequent guests. With all the folks Luke invites home, Filly might as well open a restaurant.” The man snapped his fingers and offered Tom a thoughtful look. “Now there is a grand idea. I wouldn’t mind being able to order one of her delicious cream pies anytime I felt like indulging in a piece.”

  Tom, too, had enjoyed her cream pie on more than one occ
asion and heartily agreed with Ed, but kept his thoughts to himself.

  Ed opened the front door and marched inside, divesting himself of his outerwear. “Bess, honey, we’re home.”

  A small, plump woman with kind eyes and an indulgent smile breezed down the hall, wiping her hands on a voluminous apron.

  “Hello, darling. You’re right on time,” she said, accepting a kiss from Ed on her cheek. She then turned to Tom and took both of his hands on hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

  “Tom Grove! How delightful to see you. Ed said he planned to talk you into coming for dinner. I’m so glad you could make it. Take off your coat and come on back to the kitchen.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tom said, politely nodding to the woman. He removed his things and hung them on the hall tree then followed Ed to the kitchen.

  “Unless we’re throwing a shindig, we keep things pretty informal around here,” Ed said, pointing to a table near a window set for three. “Have a seat, son.”

  Tom waited until Ed seated his wife before pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down. “Thank you for the kind invitation to have supper with you,” he said, smiling at Mrs. Daily.

  She laughed and patted her husband’s cheek. “There’s nothing kind about it. This one has something he wanted to discuss with you and decided the dinner table was the best place to do it.”

  Tom smiled and waited as Ed offered thanks for their meal. Once a full plate sat in front of him, he looked to Ed.

  The man buttered a warm piece of bread and set it on his plate before he looked to his guest. “Well, Tom, you’re probably anxious to know what I wanted to discuss.”

  “Yes, sir. Admittedly, I am curious.”

  Ed smiled at his wife and cleared his throat. “Well, Bess and I aren’t getting any younger and I’ve been thinking it’s time to begin planning my retirement. What I mean is that I want to find someone who will take over the newspaper and keep it going. I won’t sell it to just anyone. It has to be a person who’ll do a good job of running it and keep the community at the heart of it.”

  Tom stared at Ed, wondering what any of that had to do with him.

  The older man leaned back in his chair. “I’ve followed your career in Portland, Tom. Read most every article you’ve written. I have to admit you do a first-rate job. That article you wrote about the woman who killed four husbands before she was caught gave me the willies.”

  Mrs. Daily shot her husband a scathing glare, as though she issued a silent warning about appropriate dinner topics.

  Ed cleared his throat again. “Anyway, after following your career since you’ve been in Portland and seeing how you fit right back into the community upon your return to town for the holidays, I’ve concluded you would be my first choice.”

  “First choice, sir?” Tom asked, bewildered by the man’s conversation. Did Mr. Daily want him to work for him until someone new took over the newspaper?

  “To buy the paper and take over, of course.”

  Tom choked on the milk he’d just swallowed and slapped a napkin over his mouth as he coughed.

  Ed thumped him on the back with enough force to loosen a few bones as he chuckled. “Took you by surprise, didn’t I?”

  Tom nodded. Another round of coughing ensued before he felt he could speak. “Sir, I’m honored by the offer, but I don’t have that kind of money. Even if I did, I hadn’t considered moving back to Hardman.”

  Mrs. Daily gave her husband an “I told you so” look before taking a bite of her roast.

  Ed grinned and turned his attention back to Tom. “I know this is catching you unawares, Tom, but I want you to give it some thought. You’ll be here a few more weeks before returning to Portland. Just let me know what you decide before you leave. If you are interested, we could work out the details. You wouldn’t have to pay me a lump sum all at once. I’m not planning to retire until late spring or possibly summer, longer if I can’t find a qualified buyer. At any rate, if you decide it’s something you want to do, you could certainly come to work with me any time and I’ll train you in all aspects of running the business. You’ll do fine writing articles and editing the work of reporters. I know you have the knowledge to run and maintain the equipment.” Ed pointed to Tom’s casted arm. “But there are other things you need to learn, like balancing the account books, creating advertisements, that sort of thing.”

  “Thank you, sir, for thinking of me and offering the opportunity. I really do need time to consider the possibilities.” Tom looked at the man who had been a mentor of sorts to him. “I’ll be entirely truthful with you. The kind of money required to purchase your business isn’t something I have. I do well enough in my job, but not that well.”

  “I know that, Tom, but I’m also aware that you come from a good family, have strong morals, and work hard.” Ed smiled and forked a bite of mashed potatoes. “If you decide you want to give it a go, we’ll make it work.”

  Stunned by the offer, Tom could hardly swallow. He barely tasted the fine meal Mrs. Daily prepared and had no idea how he managed to carry on any sort of conversation as they ate.

  After the meal, he lingered only a short while, answering Ed’s many questions about the life of a reporter at a big newspaper before thanking Mrs. Daily for the meal and Ed for inviting him.

  At the door, he shook hands with the man. “Thank you, again, Mr. Daily, for the opportunity. It certainly gives me a lot to think about.”

  “I hope your thoughts lean toward taking me up on the offer. Have a good evening, son, and we’ll see you at the Christmas carnival.”

  “Good night, sir.”

  Tom strode out into the darkness, hunkering into his coat as snow swirled around him. On top of trying to decide what to do about his affections for Lila, he now had a whole lot more to consider.

  If Ed had made the offer two months ago, Tom would have turned him down flat. However, after spending time back in town, after the news he’d finally have a sibling, after falling in love with Lila, life in the city didn’t hold the same appeal it used to.

  In truth, Tom missed the small town atmosphere, the friendly smiles, and the fresh air. He’d even missed snow, since Portland mostly received rain, rain, and more rain.

  Weighed down by his thoughts, Tom returned to his house and huddled by the fire, contemplating his future.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lila frowned at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the bow tied at her neck and smoothing a hand down the expensive silk of her skirt.

  Although the dress featured the latest style and was made specifically for her by a famous seamstress in London, she hated it.

  Emerson had bestowed three gowns upon her after dinner the previous evening. It turned out he’d gone to Heppner to retrieve them because they hadn’t arrived on the same train he’d traveled on a few days earlier.

  Proudly carrying a trunk into the parlor as Lila sat with Luke and Filly, enjoying a cozy evening by the fire, Emerson beamed as he encouraged her to open it.

  “Shouldn’t I wait for Christmas?” Lila asked, unfastening the buckles and unhooking the latches.

  “No. Consider this a gift to illustrate how much I missed you,” he said, settling onto the settee next to her, closer than Lila liked. When she hesitated, he pushed open the lid, revealing three dresses packed among layers of tissue.

  Exquisitely made, all three gowns featured expensive fabrics and beautiful trims. Any woman would be thrilled to receive them, and Lila tried to be. Nevertheless, she couldn’t abide the color blue.

  She didn’t know why, but she’d never liked clothes in shades of blue. Even as a little girl, she adamantly refused to wear anything blue. She recalled telling her mother, “blue is for summer skies, jolly flowers, little birds, and deep lakes, but not for me to wear.”

  Emerson, on the other hand, favored blue. The three gowns in the trunk were the hue of pale blue he mistakenly deemed perfect for her. Lila thought it looked like someone had drained the color from th
e fabric and left behind a sad, faint reminder of what might have been. Had the gowns been crafted from cobalt or even navy-blue fabric, she wouldn’t have minded. But the light blue shade made her fight to keep from wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  Ashamed by her ungrateful feelings, she forced a bright smile and made over the gowns, showing them to Filly and discussing at length the famous dressmaker who created them.

  “Wait until Abby sees them,” Filly said, carefully fingering the skirt of one adorned with thick panels of lace. “She’ll be beside herself.”

  “I somehow doubt poor Abby will muster that much enthusiasm over anything right now,” Luke commented, glancing up from the newspaper in his hands.

  Filly shot him a reproachful look then turned back to study the gowns. “I like this one best,” she said, pointing to the dress without much adornment.

  If Lila had to pick one to hate the least, it would have been her choice, too. An overskirt and a smart little jacket with oversized buttons topped a pleated dress with just a hint of rich lace at the hem and the throat. The style was one Lila greatly admired — if only it was in a different color.

  “These are so lovely, Emerson. I can’t thank you enough,” Lila said, kissing his cheek and hoping he wouldn’t notice her failure to wear the gowns. She planned to leave them in the trunk until she could find someone who’d enjoy them. Perhaps Ginny would like to have them for after the baby’s arrival. Or maybe Junie Grove would appreciate them. The pale color would look wonderful on her.

  Emerson kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad you like them. I look forward to seeing you wear one tomorrow.”

  Lila bit back a sigh and carried the gowns to her room, resolved to wearing one.

  Now, as she stood gazing in the mirror, she wished she could toss it back in the trunk and never see it again. Emerson hadn’t listened the first dozen times she told him she preferred any color other than blue. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, he refused to accept the fact she didn’t care for his favorite color.

  Part of her wondered if he liked it so well because it accented his bright blue eyes and complimented his coloring. No matter how much she persuaded him otherwise, he was determined for her to wear blue. In the past, he’d given her an atrocious blue hat that Lila had eagerly given to Dora. The woman took it with great enthusiasm, wearing it with panache on top of her golden head.