A Family for Christmas

by Winnie Griggs

  “Oh.” Leo took a moment to mull that over, then gave a nod. “Then I guess I’m glad you did.” He grinned. “Did you know he has a motor carriage?”

  “Does he now?”

  “Yes, sir. And I’m sure he’d give you a ride if you wanted one.”

  Now, there was a picture to expand the imagination—his father riding in a motor car.

  But Leo was already off on another subject. “Do you like our decorations? We made them ourselves.”

  His father eyed them critically. “They are certainly unique.”

  Leo scrunched his nose. “What does unique mean?”

  While Chance’s father and Leo carried on their conversation, Eve caught his eye and gestured toward the kitchen. “Would you help me with something?” she asked.

  He straightened. “Of course.”

  Once they were inside the kitchen, he looked around. “What do you need help with?”

  She smiled and pointed to a platter on the top shelf of the cupboard. “Would you hand that down to me please?”

  He gave her a puzzled look. Her short stature, of course, made it difficult for her to reach high objects, but it seemed like a strange request all the same. He turned and did as she asked while he tried to hear what was going on in the other room. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Sit here and talk to me while I peel some carrots.”

  This time she had his complete attention. “What?”

  “You heard me. Sit and talk to me.”

  “All right—what’s this really about?”

  She grinned. “I guess I can’t fool you. I just think your father needs a little dose of Leo without you hovering around ready to pounce the minute he says something wrong.”

  Is that what he’d been doing? “You don’t understand. My father—”

  “Your father is a forceful individual. But I think Leo can hold his own. Besides, Dotty is there. She’ll watch out for Leo. And she’s armed with her knitting needles.”

  He smiled at her joke, marveling that it wasn’t so long ago when she wouldn’t have dared say such a thing. He slowly took a seat at the table, studying her face. Was it possible she was on his father’s side?

  Eve took the chair next to his. “Chance, it’s obvious there is something causing tension between you and your father. Perhaps his visit here is an opportunity for the two of you to work things out and reach a more tolerant understanding of each other.”

  “Tolerant understanding. Do you know why he came here? To force me to return to Philadelphia with him—something I’m prepared to fight with all I’m worth.”

  She placed a hand on his. “If he’s come all this way in order to convince you to return, it must mean he cares for you a great deal.”

  She gave him a smile that she probably thought was encouraging. “Besides, he can’t really make you go back if you don’t want to go.”

  “You’d be surprised. He can make it very uncomfortable for me to stay.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Should he tell her? Suddenly he wanted very much to share his concerns with her. He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Through a bit of scheming and manipulation, he now holds an interest in the note to this place. If I don’t pay up by the first of the year, he can take The Blue Bottle from me.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath as he watched her eyes widen in dismay. “Oh, Chance, I’m so sorry. I know how much this place means to you.”

  There was such genuine caring, such tenderness, reflected in her eyes—it was a balm to his very soul. He was almost afraid to move for fear it would dissolve away, but he gently took her hand, sandwiching her delicate appendage between his two larger, work-roughened ones. The memory of that kiss, a memory he’d been working very hard to repress, came flooding inexorably back. He ached to taste her lips again, to pull her so close he could feel the beat of her heart keeping time with his, to thread his fingers through her hair and finally see what it looked like when it was free of those confining pins.

  But he couldn’t do any of those things. Not here with three people on the other side of that door.

  And not until he’d been completely honest with her. He had to tell her everything, reveal his secret shame. Only then could he begin to trust this sweet something he felt growing between them.

  But at times like this it was so difficult to remember....

  She blinked and at last the spell was broken. In truth it had probably lasted only a few seconds. But it had felt so much longer.

  Eve leaned back with a smile, but he thought he saw the slightest trembling in her lips. Was that regret in her eyes? Or relief?

  “We must have faith that it will all work out as it should,” she said bracingly, and it took him a moment to remember she was talking about his father holding his note. “I think in the end your father cares too much about you to do such a thing. And if I’m wrong, well, that still doesn’t mean you have to go back to Philadelphia. You started over once, didn’t you? Surely you can do it again if you must.”

  The last time he’d had a safety net of sorts—this time there would be none. Could he do it? Perhaps, with the right person by his side.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said as he stood. “If I can get my project working, perhaps I can pay off the loan and the whole question will be moot.” He moved toward the door. “Now, delightful as this little interlude has been, I really do think I should get back out there and see how things are going.”

  * * *

  Eve watched him leave the kitchen and slowly began peeling the carrots. Had he also felt that connection when they touched? It had been like that day in the woods when they’d kissed and for the barest moment in time she thought perhaps it would happen again, had thought he wanted it, too. But she’d felt the exact moment when he’d pulled back, had sensed his withdrawal as truly as if he’d removed a physical touch.

  What she didn’t understand was why.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The next morning Chance was at his workbench when Eve stepped out of her bedchamber. Truth to tell, he’d been waiting for her to appear.

  Her smile as they exchanged greetings definitely brightened his morning. “I’m sorry you had to give up your room.”

  She waved a hand. “I volunteered it. And it’s really not a hardship.”

  “But you don’t have a window.” He remembered that had bothered her last week.

  “True, but that means there is no place for the cold air to seep in.”

  He shook his head in mock dismay. “Always looking for the silver lining.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “If one is going to look, then one should look for something good, don’t you think?”

  He grinned at her teasing. She’d definitely come a long way from the prim, too-busy-to-have-fun miss who’d arrived here a few short weeks ago.

  “Did you and your father have time to catch up with each other’s news yet?”

  He shrugged, feeling some of his good mood slip away. “As much as I expected. Sharing the day-to-day minutiae is not something we indulge in very much.”

  “Perhaps you should try it. You might be surprised by the results.”

  He declined to respond to that, and apparently she took that as a sign to press harder.

  “I’m sure he’d like to see your work. Why don’t you show him your washing machine project?”

  “It’s not the sort of thing my father would be interested in.”

  “What isn’t?”

  They both turned at the sound of his father’s voice. He was at the top of the stairs, heading down.

  “You’re up mighty early,” Chance said by way of greeting.

  “And still you two are up ahead of me.”

  Eve smil
ed. “I’m just going into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I’ll have the coffee ready shortly if you gentlemen want to join me in a few minutes.”

  Once she’d left the room, his father turned back to him. “What isn’t the sort of thing I’d be interested in?” he repeated.

  “Eve suggested I show you my current project.”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

  “It’s out back in the work shed.”

  “Then we’ll wait for the sun to come up. How does right after breakfast sound?”

  Was his father really interested, or was he just trying to prove something? “Very well.”

  Chance went back to examining the insides of the mechanical toy he’d just taken apart. To his surprise, his father began wandering around the workshop, examining various items as he went. He paused when he got to the shelf that held the nutcrackers.

  “I see you collect these just as your mother did.”

  “Actually, I made them.”

  That definitely got his father’s attention. “You mean you painted them?”

  “Yes. And carved them.”

  His father picked one up and ran his thumb absently over the back. “I had no idea you were interested in becoming an artisan.”

  “It’s just a hobby.”

  His father examined the one he held more closely. “They’re a bit crude of course—not the style you’d find in your mother’s collection—but they do show promise.”

  Leave it to his father to look for the black cloud rather than Eve’s silver lining. “As I said it’s just a hobby, not something I plan to build a business around.” He stood. “I think I’ll check to see if the coffee’s ready.”

  A few minutes later they were both sitting at the table, sipping cups of coffee while the kitchen filled with the enticing scent of biscuits in the oven.

  “So tell me about this project of yours,” his father prompted. “It must be something big if you were willing to mortgage everything you have for it.”

  “Not big in the way you would define that term.”

  “Chance is being too modest,” Eve said from her position at the stove. “It’s a wonderful idea, something that’s going to help many, many people.”

  “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

  Chance wondered what his father was up to. As meticulous as the man was, he’d no doubt already researched everything to do with this project.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and show him now?” Eve said. “It’s getting light outside and breakfast is still several minutes off.”

  Her attempts to push him and his father together, while well meant, were getting tiresome.

  But to his surprise, his father stood. “Lead the way.”

  As soon as Chance pointed out the equipment he used to his father, he could see the doubt in his eyes. He looked around the entire work area, as if trying to find something worth praising.

  Then Chance swept a hand toward the washing machine and engine. “Here it is.”

  His father frowned. “It’s a washing machine.”

  Had he really not known? “It is. What I’m doing is making improvements to it.”

  “What kind of improvements?”

  Chance patted the machine fondly. “I’m attempting to motorize it.”

  His father grimaced. “What in the world made you decide to focus on this of all things?”

  “Have you ever seen a washerwoman at work? It’s endless, exhausting labor. If I can work the kinks out of this, it will make people’s lives easier.”

  “You’ve sunk a lot of money into this. Where did it all go?”

  “That engine over there that I hope to make power this thing is the third one I had to buy. There were issues with the first two that made them unsuitable. And I’ve had to purchase an additional washing machine to obtain the extra parts and modify others to create the proper gear attachments.”

  “Son, you need to think of your customer when you create a product. Do you honestly think a washerwoman would be able to afford such a costly device?”

  “Of course not. But I’ve been in talks with a Mr. Clarence Braxton, who owns several large hotels, both here in Texas and up in Kansas. His business generates large loads of laundry every day. He’s very interested in something that will make his staff more efficient.”

  His father rubbed his jaw. “I see. Perhaps you did inherit a bit of the Dawson business sense after all.” He crossed his arms over his chest as a cold gust of wind swooshed by. “Are you close to getting this thing working properly?”

  “I believe I am. There are still one or two issues to address, though.” Was his father actually seeing value in the project? Would that be enough to dissuade him from calling in the loan?

  “And you’re trying to tackle the whole thing yourself.”

  “It’s my project, and I enjoy trying to work it all out.”

  “The smart businessman hires out the manual and expert labor part of the job. You could come back to Philadelphia and have access to some of the finest engineers and mechanics in the country. Under your direction they could solve your design problems in no time.”

  So much for his father’s interest and support. He just saw it as another way to convince his son to return to Philadelphia. He’d almost let Eve convince him his father had changed. But the man still didn’t understand him. He probably never would.

  Chance turned and headed back. “Eve will have breakfast on the table by now.”

  He didn’t bother looking back to see if his father was following.

  * * *

  Eve took one look at Chance’s face when they returned and knew it hadn’t gone well. Leo and Dotty were in the kitchen with her now, however, so there was no time to ask questions.

  A few minutes later Chance’s father returned as well and they sat down to breakfast. As they began passing the platters around, Chance’s father spoke up. “You know, I’ve been looking around this place of yours, and with just a bit of planning, I believe you could carve out a nice set of living quarters here.”

  Eve quickly glanced Chance’s way. Did he realize that this meant his father was perhaps thinking of Chance being here long term? But she saw only anger in his face.

  “I’m quite comfortable with the place as it is now,” he said flatly.

  His father’s lips pinched tight for a moment, then he focused on his food.

  Eve caught Chance’s gaze and frowned meaningfully. He grimaced, then cleared his throat. “So tell me, Father, how are my brothers faring? I understand Miles and Rebecca are expecting a new addition to the family.”

  His father’s expression lightened. “That’s true. My new grandchild should be here sometime in March.”

  “Grandchildren are such a blessing,” Dotty said with a smile. “Will this be your first?”

  “My third. Charles has one boy and my second son, Thomas, has a little girl.”

  So, in addition to brothers, Chance had a niece and a nephew. Did he miss being a part of their lives?

  Dotty and Mr. Dawson continued to carry most of the conversation, and for the rest of the meal they managed to avoid sensitive topics.

  After breakfast, Leo headed off to school and Dotty turned to Chance’s father. “I have some shopping to do this morning. You’re welcome to join me and let me show you some of the town.”

  Mr. Dawson gave a short bow. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Once Eve and Chance were alone, she turned to him. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  She saw a slight tensing of his features. Should she leave it alone?

  But he gave a short nod. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t you miss being with your family? I mean, I understand that you’ve built a new life here and that you’re happ
y with it. But don’t you ever want to go back just for a visit?”

  He shrugged. “Someday.”

  Perhaps he wasn’t any closer to his brothers than he was to his father. Which seemed such a shame.

  He took the chair beside her and leaned back. “My family and I have a rather unusual relationship.”

  “In what way?” Was he going to trust her with his story?

  “I told you once I have three older brothers. Miles, Thomas and Kevin are actually my half brothers—the sons of Father and his first wife. There’s roughly two years between each of them. My mother was Father’s second wife and I’m six years younger than my youngest half brother.”

  “And did your brothers hold this against you?”

  “Not at all. Other than treating me like the baby of the family, my brothers and I get along just fine.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be anything unusual in that.”

  “As boys my brothers were greatly admired—they were competitive, talented and ambitious. And when they grew up, they all lived up to their potential.”

  She was still confused. “And haven’t you? I mean, there are so many things you’re good at—carving, mechanics, inventing.”

  He gave her a you-don’t-understand look. “Miles, the oldest, is now a prominent physician. Thomas is a well-respected lawyer. And Kevin is a lieutenant in the army. The two oldest are married to wonderful women and, as my father mentioned at breakfast, have children of their own.”

  She didn’t detect any resentment or jealousy in his tone. “It sounds like a family to be proud of.”

  “Oh, yes. The Dawsons are a family that seems to have it all. With the very notable exception of the youngest son.”

  “That’s not true.” She was outraged on his behalf.

  He shrugged. “I’ve never been the ambitious sort. I like to take each day as it comes. I prefer to tinker with things and see what makes them work, and to seek out adventure rather than sit in an office and direct others.”

  “But that doesn’t make you a lesser man. You’re a business owner, a skilled artisan and a person who is well liked by his neighbors and friends. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that.”