by Stacy Henrie
And he did. What he couldn’t fully stomach was that she might feel more for his family’s summer mansion than she did for him. She hadn’t said as much but she hadn’t denied it either. Her answer had simply been that she didn’t know.
His own growing feelings for her were evident to himself and had become even clearer after he’d kissed her in the attic. James loved her, plain and simple. But his decision to live in America again and buy a farm had been his own. He wasn’t staying for Phoebe, though he hoped to continue seeing her, whether she secured Baywood House or not.
He’d know for certain tomorrow where her heart lay. The realization filled him with both anticipation and anxiety. Whatever happened, he would be forever grateful for Phoebe’s surprise entry into his life. And hopefully, God willing, he thought, slipping his hands into his pockets, she wouldn’t be permanently exiting it after the auction.
• • •
“You’re buying a farm? Near Newport?” Phoebe gaped in shock at James. The glow of sunset lit up the eager expression on his handsome face. He’d asked if she would walk to the cliff side after supper and she’d nervously agreed, wondering what he wished to say to her. The purchase of a farm hadn’t been one of the topics she’d considered.
James nodded. “I haven’t decided which one yet, but I’m going to be a gentleman farmer after all.”
“That’s . . . that’s wonderful, James.” And it was. His dream was coming true, and she hoped that after tomorrow’s auction hers would too.
Her surprise deepened further when he reached for her hand. She’d missed his touch, however briefly she’d experienced it the other day. “Would you ever consider making a farm your home instead of a palatial mansion?”
Phoebe glanced away, her thoughts a snarl inside her head. Was he asking what she thought? Now that he was staying could they have a life together, if she chose the same kind of life as him? “I suppose there is a certain freedom that comes with farm life that is appealing.”
He squeezed her hand in obvious hope, but Phoebe wasn’t finished. “But I’m also trying to better my life and my mother’s, James.” She turned to look at him again, willing him to understand. “Would a farm provide a better life? More so than Baywood?”
“I think it matters most who you share that life with,” he said not unkindly, even as he released her hand. “To me this is a chance, Phoebe. A chance to live an independent life by my own rules.” His eyes softened as he studied her openly. “A chance to live by our own rules, if you so desire.”
A part of her longed to fall into his arms and accept, and yet . . . Baywood House had long been her dream, even before she’d had the means to secure it.
“I’m happy for you, James. I really am.” She blew out a sigh of regret, then squared her shoulders. “But I still want to see my dream come true too.”
A frown pulled at his mouth, the one she’d enjoyed kissing the other day, but he dipped his head in a nod of understanding. “Then I will see you at the auction tomorrow, Phoebe.”
Chapter 5
Nearly all of the furniture had been claimed. Phoebe couldn’t even recall which buyer had just purchased Mrs. Austin’s buffet cupboard. After today, the rooms of Baywood House would be as bare as they’d been when the mansion was first built.
Phoebe’s heartbeat spiked again as it had over and over since the auction had begun. Inside her gloves, her palms felt clammy. Her mother sat beside her, a picture of calm. At the front of the ballroom, James was seated in a stiff-back chair, his demeanor growing more and more sorrowful as his family’s furnishings were sold off one by one.
“Only a few pieces of furniture left, which means we’re almost to the house,” her mother murmured in her ear, squeezing her hand.
Phoebe nodded stiffly as her gaze strayed to James again. Before drifting off to sleep last night, she’d thought more about their kiss, the hopeful look in his green eyes as he’d told her about his plan to buy a farm, and his question that day in the attic. Did he mean as much to her as Baywood? Frustration and confusion pinched her anew as she considered the inquiry again. How did she really feel about James?
Ignoring the auctioneer’s cries, she focused her attention on all she and James had shared the last month. She’d thoroughly loved spending time with him and coming to know him as a friend, and then something more. From that moment fluffing pillows, she’d felt a pull, a connection, between them. He was a man of loyalty, integrity, and kindness. His face was the one she couldn’t wait to see each morning and the one she pictured each night. She loved knowing his thoughts and sharing her own, loved teasing and laughing with him, loved how he appreciated and encouraged her independence.
In short, she’d been falling in love with him for weeks now. But in this moment, she knew what her heart had been trying to tell her since their kiss. I love him. I love James.
She couldn’t imagine living in Baywood House without him. Her memories of this place would always be magical, but what made this place so wonderful was James. The mansion would never embrace her, or tease her, or watch her in adoration. It was merely a beautiful façade, especially now that it was bereft of all its furnishings.
Perhaps, like James and his farm, it was time for her dreams to change and evolve.
“Who will start the bidding on this magnificent gentleman’s chair?” the auctioneer drawled. “Genuine leather, folks, and years of life still left in it.”
Phoebe saw James flinch. He’d mentioned to her that this was his father’s favorite chair. A new idea bolted through her mind like a comet. A way to show James that what, and more importantly whom, meant the most to her was him.
The auctioneer threw out an opening bid and Phoebe immediately raised her number card in the air. James reared back a bit, his expression puzzled.
“What are you doing?” her mother whispered. Phoebe had already explained to her that she wouldn’t be acquiring any of the furniture in order to put more money into her bid on the house.
Phoebe kept her voice low as she answered, “Something I should have thought to do much sooner.” Her mother didn’t question her; she simply clasped Phoebe’s hand again in a show of understanding.
Gratitude and love filled her. Looping her arm through her mother’s, Phoebe kept a vigilant focus on the bid for the armchair. In the end the auctioneer pronounced it hers. She smiled at James, who tentatively returned the gesture, though he still looked unsure.
When the last of the furnishings had been sold, the auctioneer announced it was time to bid for Baywood House itself. James visibly cringed before his countenance settled back into steely resolve. The opening bid was named, lower than Phoebe had anticipated. But it no longer mattered.
Seated up front, she couldn’t see those bidding behind her, but the price began to creep higher. She met James’s gaze and watched him tip his head toward the auctioneer. His silent question was obvious—wasn’t she going to bid? Phoebe gripped her number card tightly between her gloved hands. She could feel them trembling, but she didn’t know if it was from lack of courage or the presence of it. Everything inside her whispered she was doing the right thing.
Margaret tensed beside her, though she didn’t urge Phoebe to bid. Her silent trust bolstered Phoebe. She could do this. The bidding price rose up and up until finally reaching a sum far beyond what she could’ve afforded. A few minutes later the auctioneer declared the winner of the bid and the new owner of Baywood House.
Phoebe exhaled a long breath—it was over. The other buyers rose from their seats, their conversations rising and falling like ocean waves inside the vast room. Setting aside her number card, she stood, eager to speak with James.
“You didn’t bid,” her mother said, lovingly regarding Phoebe.
She watched James shake hands with the auctioneer. “No, I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Is that because you’ve possessed the most precious thing inside Baywood House for some time now?”
Phoebe glanced down at her mother, won
dering what she meant. “What would that be?”
Margaret smiled. “His heart.”
Bending down, Phoebe gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for understanding, Mother. And I promise we’ll get a house soon.”
“I can afford my own small place, my dear, if that’s necessary.” Her gaze went to James. “And something tells me it might be. Now go on.”
Her heart thumping chaotically, Phoebe went to stand calmly beside the only thing she’d purchased today—the armchair. James caught her eye and slowly approached. Would he forgive her for taking so long to understand her heart? She hoped and prayed so.
“You didn’t bid on the house.” There was no mistaking the confusion in his tone.
“No. But I did win this wonderful chair.” She rested her hand along the leather back. “It’s a gift for someone I know. Someone very special.” Her voice caught and she hurried to swallow. “He’s come to mean the world to me, far more than any house here or anywhere else.”
James studied her for a long moment. “Any house?” he said as he placed his hands over hers. Phoebe linked her fingers with his. “Even Baywood House?”
“Yes, James. Even Baywood House.”
A hopeful glint lit his green eyes. Throwing a glance at the buyers still milling about the room, he led her by the hand out through the ballroom’s French doors. He didn’t cease walking until they reached the canopy of trees outside. Then he stopped her beside one glowing with golden leaves. “Thank you for buying my father’s chair.” He brushed his knuckle against her cheek, renewing the swift thrumming of her pulse.
“I knew what it meant to you.”
“Why did you change your mind, Phoebe? Why didn’t you bid on the house?”
She glanced at the mansion, suddenly afraid he might have already changed his mind about her. “You asked me the other day which was more important, you or this house.” Licking her dry lips, she pulled in a breath for courage. “Sitting there during the auction, I realized Baywood House is only a place that holds wonderful memories, if you aren’t here to make new ones with me.”
Looking at him again, she bravely continued. “I love you, James Austin. With all of my heart. You mean far more to me than a hundred mansions.”
A slow grin brightened his face. “How do you feel about living on a farm now?”
Phoebe squeezed his hand as joyful tears pricked her eyes. He still loved her. “I find the idea far more appealing today than yesterday. If that’s where you’ll be, James, then I want to be there too.”
His gaze intensified along with his smile, filling her stomach with flurries of anticipation. “In that case, will you be my wife, Phoebe Hill? I’ll have only a humble farm to offer. But it will be ours, a place to make a life together.”
Winding her arms around his neck, she drew close, feeling as bright as the leaves swaying above their heads. “I would be honored to be your wife, James.” She offered him an impish smile. “You can milk the cows while I fluff the pillows.”
He grinned. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
“I can,” she said teasingly, bringing her mouth near his.
Understanding lit his green eyes right before he indulged her with a long kiss. Phoebe kissed him back—soundly, firmly, and with all the love in her heart. She’d come to Newport to purchase Baywood House, but God had other plans for her and James. And she couldn’t think of anything more magical than that.
• • •
Five years later
Phoebe jostled little James against her hip and smiled encouragement at her husband. Their little family, along with her mother, stood facing the small white house. The wind from the ocean whipped the ribbons of Phoebe’s hat and scattered colored leaves across the expansive lawn.
“I christen this house Woodbay Cottage,” James said in a commanding voice, his hand gripping the smaller one of their daughter, Maggie. “May you reside here through storm and calm for generations to come.”
“Hear! Hear!” Margaret Hill clapped her hands. They’d picked her up in the family motorcar, with Phoebe at the wheel, and drove her from her modest house in town to their new seaside cottage. James’s mother would also want the details of the informal ceremony in Phoebe’s next letter, especially since she, her husband, and children would be coming to stay with James and Phoebe next summer.
Mrs. Austin had been reticent about her son’s marriage and his plans to stay in America as a gentleman farmer. But time, and plenty of letters back and forth across the ocean, had soothed and overcome her hesitation.
Phoebe stepped forward and kissed James’s cheek. “A beautiful speech.”
“Will we get to live here next summer, Daddy?” Maggie asked, tugging on his pant leg.
James tousled her dark locks. “All summer, Mags. Just as your mother and I did a long time ago.” He exchanged a tender glance with Phoebe.
Setting their son on his feet, she watched as he toddled after his sister and grandmother, who took his hand in hers. Then Phoebe turned to face the little house. “It’s a wonderful cottage, James.”
“It’s no Baywood,” he said in a playful tone. The cottage and the mansion were situated only a few miles apart, and Phoebe still liked to walk past it every chance she got. James put his arm around her waist and pulled her snuggly to his side. She would never regret choosing him over the grand house.
“This cottage is something better. Because it’s ours to make new memories in.”
“Like the farm,” he added, pressing a kiss to her brow.
“Yes.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, relishing the happiness of the moment and the love she shared with him. “You’re here with me, James, and I’m here with you. And there’s still no other place I would rather be.”
Author’s Notes
A Long Winter Kiss
Having lived in Michigan for a year and a half, I have an affinity for the beautiful countryside there. And I felt this location would be the perfect setting for a Christmas Eve sleigh ride.
Rex would have served in the 4th Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment, which went into service in June 1861 and ended service in June 1864. They fought in the Battle of Fredericksburg in December 1862. After writing a series of books set during the First World War, I gained more insight and compassion into the way war affects the soldiers who serve. I wanted to explore that element of war in this novella. I also hoped to show the Christmas miracle that occurs in Samantha’s and Rex’s hearts.
An Unlikely Spring Courtship
Idaho City, Idaho, established in 1862 under the name Bannock City, was once the largest city between St. Louis and San Francisco. With the discovery of gold in the area in 1862, miners flooded the Boise Basin in hopes of getting rich. In May 1865, a fire destroyed most of Idaho City. Just two years and one day later, in May 1867, another fire occurred. Thankfully this one didn’t do as much damage as the first. The post office did burn down during the 1867 fire, but Lydia and Calvin are my fictional postmaster/mistress. There was a mercantile in Idaho City at that time as well, which was damaged in the fire of 1867, but for the purposes of the story, I kept both Tempest’s mercantile and Bram’s intact.
A Summer for Love
Once envisioned to be the “Atlantic City of the West,” Bayocean, Oregon, was a popular seaside resort town from its grand opening in 1912 to about 1928. The sea eventually eroded away the beach and buildings until Bayocean ceased to exist.
The natatorium opened in 1914 and featured grandstands, a heated saltwater swimming pool, artificial surf, and a movie theater. The dance pavilion and the bungalows where Loralee lived were all actual buildings. The Hotel Bayocean (Annex) was also a real building and featured the automatic fire sprinklers mentioned.
I love writing stories set in the World War I era and the early 1920s, and I wanted to pair both time periods in this novella of social clashes and second chances for love, even many years later.
Romance in Autumn
During the Gil
ded Age, America’s wealthy elite traveled to Newport, Rhode Island, where they stayed for the summer. There they built lavish mansions, like Baywood House in this novella, and attended or hosted one social event after another.
I wanted to capture some of the opulence of those Newport summers during the era of the American heiress, but also set this story during a season of the year that isn’t always associated with this place and time period. So I chose autumn in Newport with its iconic New England foliage.
Books by Stacy Henrie
See all of Stacy Henrie’s
books at Kobo!
Of Love and War Series
A Hope Remembered
Hope Rising
A Christmas Hope
Hope at Dawn
Love Inspired Historical Series
The Outlaw’s Secret
The Express Rider’s Lady
Lady Outlaw
Anthologies
Love for All Seasons
Mail Order Bride
About the Author
A USA Today bestselling author, Stacy Henrie graduated from Brigham Young University with a degree in public relations. Not long after, she switched from writing press releases and newsletters to writing inspirational historical romances. Born and raised in the West, where she currently resides with her family, she enjoys reading, road trips, interior decorating, chocolate, and most of all, laughing with her husband and kids. Her books include Hope at Dawn, a 2015 RITA Award finalist for excellence in romance. You can learn more about Stacy and her books by visiting her website at stacyhenrie.com.
