It Must've Been the Mistletoe

by L. P. Dover

  “I know you wouldn’t.” She kissed the top of my head. “Come on, let’s go. Your grandfather hates to be late.”

  We walked downstairs, and I grabbed my basket out of the kitchen. Helen stood by the door with my shawl and draped it over my shoulders. “Good luck,” she whispered.

  “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”

  My great-grandfather was already outside, and he waved me over to the two men he was talking to. There were two carriages, both with horses. “Adeline, this is Reginald and Edward. I don’t think you’ve met them yet.”

  I bowed my head and curtsied. “How do you do,” I said, trying my best to play the part of an 1865 maiden.

  My great-grandfather placed his hand on the older gentleman’s shoulder. His hair was almost fully gray, down to his moustache. The black suit he wore looked brand new. I was glad my grandparents took care of the people who worked for them. “This is Reginald, your grandmother’s coachman. He’ll be bringing you home tonight when you’re ready.”

  Reginald held his hat in his hand and bowed his head. “Good evening, Ms. Hamilton.”

  Then my great-grandfather placed his hand on the other gentleman’s shoulders. “And this is Edward, my coachman.”

  Edward was a bit younger than Reginald. His blond hair didn’t have as much gray, and his face was less wrinkled. He wore the same kind of suit as Reginald.

  “How do you do, Ms. Hamilton.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” I said sweetly.

  Grandmother walked out at that moment, and Grandfather helped her into the phaeton. He held his hand out to me and I got in, taking the seat across from them. Once we were on our way, my heart started racing. Even though the baking tradition was silly, I couldn’t help but be nervous.

  My great-grandfather smiled at me. “You and Mr. Blair had a lot to say to each other last night.”

  I nodded. “We did. I enjoyed his company.”

  “Good to hear, good to hear. I don’t know much about him, but he seems like a gentleman. You had many of the other young men jealous.”

  “Which was most entertaining,” Grandmother added.

  He chuckled and agreed with a single nod. “Yes, it certainly was.”

  The carriage ride was much bumpier than I’d ever imagined it would be, and I had a hard time imagining what people would do when they were ill or injured and had to take long carriage rides to the nearest hospital. That’s probably why house calls were more prevalent in this time.

  When we arrived at the town hall, there were almost too many people milling about. I must have looked stunned, because my great-grandmother patted my hand. “When your grandfather and I leave, Reginald will be here with you to take you home when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you. I’ll probably be ready right after the raffle.”

  She tried her best not to smile, and I could tell she didn’t believe me. “If that is your wish, my dear.”

  Edward opened the carriage door and my grandparents exited. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my basket and followed suit. We walked into the town hall and everyone was buzzing about like busy bees.

  My great-grandmother pointed at a bald-headed man who was putting numbers on the baskets. “Take your basket to that gentleman. His name is Marcus McGee. He’ll give you a number and then you can go sit with the other women.”

  I looked over at the group of women, and I was shocked to see I wasn’t the oldest. There was at least one woman older than me, and she didn’t appear to be very happy to be in attendance. That makes two of us.

  Sucking up my insecurities, I walked to the front of the room, where I noticed William standing in a corner with other men. His lips pulled back slightly when he saw me, in a very devilish kind of smile. I bet the majority of the thirty women in the room wanted him to pick their basket. My chances of getting him was slim to none.

  Marcus watched me approach and his grin widened. “Hello, Ms. Adeline Hamilton.”

  “Hello,” I replied.

  Taking my basket, he set it down with the others and handed me a number. It was number thirty. “Have a seat and we’ll get started shortly. Did your grandparents explain how this game is played?”

  “Yes, they did.” Unfortunately. “Thank you.”

  Turning on my heel, I headed over to the excited group of women and sat down beside the one who looked to be around my age. Her dress was navy with plum stripes and her chestnut colored hair was pulled away from her face in an elaborate up-do.

  “Hello,” I said and held out my hand. “I’m Adeline Hamilton.”

  Smiling meekly, she shook it. “Yes, I had a chance to see you yesterday, when I came to your party over at the Hamilton Manor. We were never introduced. My name is Hannah Gardner.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Hannah. I hate I didn’t get to speak to you there.”

  She snickered. “Your attention was quite diverted. I don’t blame you. William Blair is most agreeable.”

  I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Glancing over my shoulder, William was busy talking to another man with blond hair and glasses and a kind smile. “He’s easy to talk to. It’s hard to find that nowadays.”

  “Yes, I dare say it is. My late husband and I could talk for hours.”

  Her comment brought my attention back to her; shocked she was a widow at such a young age. Taking in her face, I noticed she had an angelic quality to her. “Is this your first time doing this then?”

  She nodded. “I just moved to Asheville a few months ago with my parents. They said I should re-enter society.”

  “You don’t seem happy about that.”

  Her eyes glistened. “I’m not. I’m a thirty-one-year-old widow. My husband died two and a half years ago in the war, and I’ve just come out of mourning. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him.”

  My heart broke for her. I knew all too well of the lives that had been lost in the Civil War. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” I murmured. “I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

  Taking a deep breath, she let it out slow and smiled. “It’s not easy, but I must move forward.” She glanced at the men across the room. “Although, I’m not sure how I will fare. Most of the gentlemen here would prefer a young, vibrant woman.” She motioned her hand toward the other girls.

  “Maybe. But you forget one thing; it’s Christmas time. Anything’s possible.”

  Her grin widened. “Yes, it is.”

  I bumped her in the shoulder and lowered my voice. “After the contest, I hear that everyone goes to the pond and ice skates. If we don’t like our dates, we can always keep each other company. What do you say?”

  She nodded once. “I can handle that.”

  About that time, Marcus raised his hands and cleared his throat. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As you know, every Christmas, we hold several social events. But this one is extra special because it’s how I met my wife. If it weren’t for her smoked pork and potatoes with fresh-churned butter, I don’t know if we’d be here today.”

  Everyone chuckled at this.

  “Not to mention, the pumpkin pie for dessert,” he added with a laugh. Turning to the table of baskets, he breathed in deep and grabbed his stomach. “I must say, these baskets sure do smell delicious right about now.” The crowd laughed again.

  A woman in a silky, burgundy dress with her white hair pulled into a bun, walked up and handed him a bowl full of tiny pieces of paper. He smiled lovingly at her and bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  “That’s his wife,” Hannah whispered. “At least this process worked for them.”

  I already knew it wouldn’t for me. “Just pray you don’t get James Ferguson.”

  A scoff escaped her lips. “In my age, it’s easy to see he’s an arrogant buffoon.”

  “You and I will get along just perfectly,” I said, laughing.

  “All right, everyone, let’s get started,” Marcus announced. “Gentlemen, when I call your name, come up here and pick a
number.”

  I lowered my voice. “What number do you have?”

  Hannah opened her tiny piece of paper. “Eight.”

  I showed her mine. “Good luck.”

  She giggled. “You too.”

  One by one, Marcus called the men up, they picked a number out of a hat, and they received the corresponding baskets, along with their dates. The room thinned out quicker than I’d anticipated. Luckily, William was still in the crowd with his friend in the glasses, but so was Mr. Ferguson. Heart racing, my stomach clenched every time one of the men walked up to get a number.

  As the numbers dwindled, I couldn’t help but notice a woman dressed in an elegant, pinkish-rose gown, that matched perfectly with her golden blonde hair and creamy skin. Although it wasn’t her beauty that’d caught my attention, but how she couldn’t take her eyes off William.

  “Who is that?” I whispered.

  Hannah followed my line of sight and sighed. “Her name’s Elizabeth Ferguson, James Ferguson’s sister. She’s entitled and not very nice. I’d steer clear of her.”

  “Must run in the family.” Now that she mentioned the relation, I could see the resemblance between her and her brother. They both had the same color hair and eyes.

  “Number fifteen,” Marcus announced. Elizabeth snarled her lip and stood, clearly unhappy with her date. I was though, because it wasn’t William.

  Hannah moved closer and clutched my arm. “I’m so ready for this to be over.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “The suspense is killing me.” It all came down to three men and three women: William, James, the man in the glasses, and me, Hannah, and another woman I didn’t know.

  “Mr. James Ferguson,” Marcus called out. James grinned over at us and picked a number out of the bowl. I squeezed Hannah’s arm. Please, God, let him get the other woman. Mr. Ferguson handed Marcus the number and they both looked over at us. “Number thirteen.”

  Hannah and I breathed a sigh of relief, and I looked up at the ceiling. Thank you, God.

  The woman whose basket got picked, jumped out of her seat with delight. Mr. Ferguson glared over at William, who in return, tried to hide his smirk and failed miserably.

  “It’s up to me and you, Hannah. We should be safe now. The guy in the glasses looks pretty sweet.”

  She peered over at him and smiled. “Yes, he does.”

  “Mr. Fred Simmons,” Marcus called.

  The guy in the glasses walked up to the front and pulled out a number. Marcus patted him on the shoulder and handed him Hannah’s basket. “Number eight.” Hannah stood and sucked in a nervous breath.

  “I’ll see you at the pond,” I said low.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Fred walked over with her basket and held out his arm. He seemed just as nervous as she was, which might bode well for Hannah. I couldn’t imagine losing a husband at so young an age, but hopefully, in my dream, she’d find happiness.

  Marcus held up my basket and chuckled. “Mr. William Blair, if you would please come up here and claim the remaining basket.”

  William looked over at me and we both walked up together. He drew the last piece of paper, and inside was my number thirty.

  “I smell some homemade biscuits in there, young man. I might be stealing them out of your basket.”

  William shook his hand. “Sorry, Mayor. I don’t think I’ll be sharing this one.”

  Marcus burst out laughing and so did everyone in the crowd. William held out his arm and I took it. My great-grandmother waved at me, as William and I walked to the main doors.

  “Who would’ve thought you’d get stuck with me?” William teased.

  Well, it was my dream, so with me wanting him to pick my number, I was probably able to make it so. “Is that so bad?”

  Chuckling, he opened the doors and everyone else was already by the pond. “Not at all. I’m glad I got you.” He set the basket down and opened it. “What all do we have in here?”

  “Ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, biscuits, and a blackberry cobbler.”

  His eyes widened. “You were busy today.”

  I shrugged. “I love to cook.”

  He shut the basket and picked it back up. “And you will share some of this with me?”

  “No,” I gasped, grabbing my stomach. “I grazed all day long. That’s how I know the meal is good. There’s no way I can eat anything right now.”

  He frowned. “What a shame. I was hoping to spend more time with you.”

  Laughter echoed from across the pond. I looked back, and Hannah waved for us to join them. “Who says you can’t? Do you know how to skate?”

  “Maybe a little,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I was told I’d need a pair for tonight, so I brought some. What about you?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve gone before, but I’m not the best.”

  Holding out his arm, he nodded toward his carriage. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.” I linked my arm with his and shivered. I loved the way it felt to be close to him.

  “Thanks. I don’t know how easy it’ll be to skate in this dress.”

  William glanced down at my large hoop skirt and smiled. “I see your point. However, you look breathtaking in it.” Heat rose to my cheeks. “Do you mind if I drop the basket off at my carriage?”

  “Not at all. I’ll just gather my skates and meet you over there.”

  Parting ways, I made my way over to Reginald, who sat in the front seat with a newspaper and a pipe. It was cold outside, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

  “Hello, Reginald,” I called out.

  Lowering the newspaper, he puffed out a cloud of smoke and took off his hat, his soft graying hair growing thin. “Good evening, Ms. Hamilton.” His brows furrowed. “Are you ready for me to take you home?”

  I shook my head. “I just came to get my skates, but you can go back to the house without me. I don’t want you sitting out here in the cold. I’m pretty sure I can find my way back to the house on my own.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Hamilton, but—”

  “Adeline,” I cut in. “Please, call me Adeline.”

  He bowed his head again. “I’m sorry, Miss Adeline, but I will wait here, if you don’t mind.” Taking in a deep breath, he smiled and let it out slowly. “I like being outside and reading the newspaper. It helps me escape.”

  “Escape from what?” I asked.

  His face drooped and he looked down at his pipe. “My wife died a few months ago from pneumonia. I asked the Hamilton’s to give me more work. My children are all grown, and busy with families of their own. I don’t want them feeling like they have to take care of me. And being out and about keeps my mind occupied.”

  “I’m so sorry, Reginald. You’re right, staying busy does help. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling bad that you have to wait on me.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t feel bad, Miss. Staying here also allows me to keep an eye on you. It’s not proper for a young lady to be out on her own, and the young men aren’t as honorable as they were back in my day.”

  “You are absolutely right, Reginald.” If he only knew what life was like in my time, he’d croak. Times sure had changed. Even if things were a little harder in the 1800s—cooking without electricity, no hot showers, and toilet paper that gave your hiney splinters—it was still a less complicated time in life. I had time to breathe and not worry about checking my email or social media outlets. There were clear cut social rules, and I didn’t have to fret over dating apps or men ghosting me. It was a break from reality.

  “Miss Adeline.” William marched over, his skates in hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes. I just need to grab my skates.” Opening the carriage door, the skates were right inside. Thankfully, it wasn’t the kind that strapped around your shoes. They were real skates that slipped on and laced up. William took them from me and I nodded up at Reginald. “William, this is Reginald. He works for my grandparents.”

  William reached up and shook his hand. “It’s n
ice to meet you, sir.”

  Reginald relaxed back in his seat. “Be safe out there, and watch our girl.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll be safe,” I said at the same time, taking William’s arm. Hannah and her date were already on the ice when we got down to the pond. “How do you know Mr. Simmons?” I asked.

  William and I sat down on a fallen tree trunk and put on our skates. “His father owns the furniture store. They’re both excellent woodcrafters. In fact, I watched them make a table the other day. Fascinating stuff.”

  “I’m assuming he’s nice though?” I pointed at Hannah who couldn’t stop laughing. Fred wasn’t a good skater at all, and neither was she. They kept falling left and right, both trying to help each other up and failing.

  William chuckled as he watched them. “Fred’s a good guy,” he claimed. “Just a little shy.”

  “So is Hannah. They look cute out there together.”

  Once my skates were on and secured, William stood and reached for my hands. He pulled me up and winked. “Ready?”

  I’d skated a gazillion times before, but never on a pond. It wasn’t smooth like a skating rink would be. I could totally see myself falling on my face. Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the ice, and William pulled me along. The pond was uneven and choppy, but after a few minutes, I got the hang of it.

  “Do I need to keep holding your hand?” William asked with a chuckle.

  I let him go. “No, I believe I’m good. I can handle it from here.”

  Not everyone from the contest was on the ice. A lot of them congregated around the pond, while others enjoyed eating together. There were a select few who weren’t even around their dates, Mr. Ferguson being one of them. I felt bad for the woman he picked. She sat on a bench with two other women who looked just as sad as her.

  “What are you looking at?”

  I shrugged. “Just at everything in general. I don’t think these raffles really bring people together. Granted, the mayor found his wife that way, but look at all the people who look less than pleased about their partners.” William followed my line of sight.

  He skated closer to me. “You can’t force people to like each other. I guess you could call us lucky.”