by Karen Kirst
Lavinia and Henry followed Marcie and Dot out the door, down the street and through the gate in the wrought iron fence. Marcie bounded up the walkway to the porch where Alex sat on the top step and whispered in his ear. Although she’d been eager to send her brother away earlier, she seemed happy to see him again.
Marcie straightened. “Aunt Livy, can we hang my wreath now?”
“Mine, too!” Dot hollered.
Their pride and excitement warmed Lavinia’s heart. Even though she’d intended to create an elegant wreath to grace the front door, the girls’ desire to see their work displayed was more important. There would be lovely decorations to enjoy in Philadelphia in the years to come, but this Christmas was about them. She could make a concession here and there, couldn’t she? “That’s a wonderful idea.”
Marcie held out her wreath to Lavinia. “Will you hold it up so I can see how it will look?”
“Of course.” She stood in front of the door and centered the wreath at eye level. With its many colorful bows, it was sure to elicit smiles from everyone who entered the house. The refreshing pine scent from the boughs surrounding the doorway added to the festive atmosphere. She inhaled deeply, relishing the fragrance that would always bring with it memories of her sister. “Do you think it looks good here?”
Marcie stood back and tilted her head to and fro. “I think it should be a bit higher.”
Lavinia raised the wreath a few inches and looked over her shoulder. “How about that?”
“Yes!” Marcie smiled. “I like it there. Can we put it up right now?”
“We can,” Henry said. “I’ll get a hammer and nail from the shed.”
“I already have them.” Alex pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing the items.
Henry took them. “You certainly planned ahead, Buddy.”
Alex shrugged. “I knew Marcie wouldn’t want to wait.”
Lavinia laughed. Alex knew his sister well.
Henry joined Lavinia at the door, used the nail to mark the spot where it would go and asked her to remove the wreath. She lowered it and moved aside.
In no time, he’d pounded in the nail. She cast a glance at the children, who had their heads together and were whispering among themselves. They jumped apart when they saw her, guilty looks on their faces, almost as if they’d been caught doing something wrong.
“We’re ready if you want to watch me hang it.”
They nodded in unison. Clearly, they were up to something. No doubt, she’d find out soon enough. She stepped up to the door where Henry stood, hammer in hand, and hung the wreath.
“Uncle Henry, Aunt Livy, look up!” Marcie hollered.
Lavinia lifted her head at the same time Henry did, spied a sprig of mistletoe tucked between the boughs overhead and froze.
“It’s mistletoe,” Dot announced.
“Yes,” Henry said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat. “I see that.”
“You’re supposed to kiss.”
Lavinia didn’t need Alex’s reminder. What she did need to do was breathe. She gulped in some air, slowly lowered her head and looked at Henry, who appeared as dazed as she was.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, causing her heart to slam against her corset. She’d never allowed a man to kiss her before, although several had wanted to. Even so, she half hoped Henry would dip his head and touch his lips to hers.
All sounds faded except for his whisper-soft exhale. Her gaze traveled over the smooth planes of his cheeks to his strong jawline. If she leaned toward him ever so slightly…
No! Although the idea of kissing Henry appealed to her far more than it should, she couldn’t give in to her wayward feelings. She’d vowed to wait until she met a man she loved for her first kiss.
She produced a shaky smile, took two steps back and worked to regain her composure. Hopefully, Henry would attribute the color in her flaming cheeks to the chill in the air.
“Stop!” Marcie wailed. “It’s mistletoe. You have to kiss him.”
Disappointment was etched in the faces of her nieces and nephew. “I know that’s the way it works, but a kiss is something special, and your uncle and I haven’t known each other that long.”
Dot frowned. “Uncle Henry’s nice. Don’t you like him?”
“I do, but…” How could she explain her tangle of emotions to a four-year-old when she didn’t understand them herself?
“If you want some kissing, Dimples, I can make that happen. Here.” Henry handed the hammer to Alex, picked up Dot and gave her a loud smack on her cheek. “How’s that?”
Dot smiled. So did Lavinia. Once again, Henry had saved the day. She’d have to make sure there were no more encounters like this one because the longer she knew him, the more she liked him. But they weren’t destined to be friends. Even if they weren’t at odds over the children, her father would never approve of his remaining daughter harboring romantic feelings for a Hawthorn.
Not that she did, of course. Henry was a friend. Nothing more.
CHAPTER FIVE
The scent of lemon wax greeted Lavinia as she entered the attorney’s well-appointed offices Monday afternoon. She also welcomed the warmth, which was a nice change from the chill outside.
She spoke with Mr. Price’s clerk and took a seat on the plush sofa in the waiting area. An ornate vase on a claw-legged table held a small branch, from which several exquisitely crafted German-made ornaments hung. They reminded her of the tall tree that would be set up in her father’s ballroom back home soon.
Memories of Christmases past flooded her mind, with Pauline at the center of them. Her sister’s enthusiasm for the holiday and its celebrations had known no bounds. She would have eagerly endorsed Lavinia’s plan to throw the biggest party Sutter Creek had ever seen.
Surely, Pauline would have supported Lavinia in challenging Henry for guardianship, too. After all, her sister had made it clear years ago she wanted Lavinia to care for the children should the need arise, well before Jack had written his will. Perhaps Jack hadn’t even talked with Pauline before naming Henry. Not all men felt a need to apprise their wives of such matters.
The door to the right of the clerk’s desk opened, and a portly gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard appeared. Mr. Price crossed the waiting area and stood before Lavinia. “Miss Crowne, what a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming. If you’ll head on back, we can conduct our business.” He held out a hand toward the open door.
She followed him to his office and took the proffered seat in front of his gleaming desk. The surface was free of all but an elegant rosewood inkstand, a blotter and a key. If things went well, the key was the one she’d walk away with.
Mr. Price sank into the large leather chair behind his desk. “I’ve heard from my client.”
The lawyer’s serious tone put Lavinia on alert. She summoned her most businesslike manner. “Did Mr. Benedict agree to rent me the meeting room?”
“He did, but due to a change in his circumstances, he’s been forced to increase the rental fee.” The lawyer named a figure that made her breath catch. Other than batting her lashes a few times, she contained her surprise. Or so she hoped.
Although she’d wanted to keep her expenses down, she had no choice but to pay the outrageous sum. There was no other place available in town that could accommodate both the children’s congregation and the families of their schoolmates. “You may tell Mr. Benedict I will accept his terms, but I want the amount we’ve agreed on in writing.”
“Very well.” Mr. Price pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer, dipped his pen and dashed off a note to that effect, which he handed to Lavinia.
“Is that—” she nodded at the key “—for the building? If so, I’d like to take a closer look at the meeting room.”
“Certainly.”
She took the key he offered but remained seated. Niggling doubts clawed at her, but she brushed them aside. “I have another matter I’d like to discuss with you. A legal matter. Shall I make an appointment with your clerk, or do you have time now?”
“I do. Go ahead.”
“You might be aware that Henry Hawthorn was granted guardianship of our nieces and nephew in his brother’s will.”
“I didn’t know, but it makes sense. He’s the children’s closest relative and has been doing a wonderful job of caring for them from what I hear.”
Mr. Price’s quick defense of Henry didn’t bode well. “He has, but I believe I could do as well. What’s more, that’s what my sister wanted.”
The lawyer raised a salt-and-pepper eyebrow. “She had a will? Women don’t generally prepare one.”
“No, but Pauline wrote to me long before Jack made his and said that if anything happened to them, she knew I’d take good care of their children. I have the letter.” She pulled it from her reticule and placed it in front of him.
He scanned the portion she pointed out and looked up, his eyes filled with compassion. “Miss Crowne, I know you love the children, but a letter, even one that predates the will, doesn’t invalidate it. Perhaps she and her husband changed their minds in the ensuing years.”
Lavinia drew in a deep breath, detecting a faint scent of cigar smoke. She lifted her chin and assumed an authoritative tone. “Or maybe she didn’t know Jack had named his brother. What I want to know is how to go about changing the designation.”
“That’s not possible. It’s legally binding.”
“Wills can be broken, can’t they?”
Mr. Price slid the letter across his desk to her, leaned back and folded his arms. “Are you planning to contest it?”
“If that’s what it takes. The children belong with me and my father. In Philadelphia. He can provide for them in ways Henry can’t. They’ll live in a fine home, wear nice clothes and receive a quality education.”
The kindly lawyer clasped his hands and tapped his thumbs together. “All of which are available to them here, correct?”
How could she explain without coming across as proud or boastful? “My father is a man of means. He intends to see that they have every advantage.”
“You can’t take the children away. They’re Henry’s responsibility. Unless he refuses to serve or is declared incompetent, nothing can change that.”
She could see why her father grew impatient with naysayers. As he often said, there was always a way around things if you looked hard enough. “Wills are successfully contested sometimes, are they not?”
“They are, but from what I’ve heard, you don’t have a case. Not one I’d take, anyway.”
“Then I’ll make one.” She scanned the leather-bound volumes on the bookshelf behind Mr. Price. “Those contain the laws, don’t they? If you would be so kind as to point me to the portion that relates to estates and guardianship, I’d be grateful.”
The lawyer chuckled. “You want to read the statutes for yourself?”
His patronization grated on her. “I do. It’s possible I might find something that could help.”
“What you’ll find is that the law is on Henry’s side. Even if you were to dig up a charge and find a lawyer willing to take your case, it would be tried in Amador County by a jury of Henry’s peers. He’s known here. You’re not.”
Even more reason for her to make a good impression on the residents of Sutter Creek. “Be that as it may, I’d like to read the pertinent sections. I’ll gladly pay for the privilege.”
Mr. Price shook his head. “If you’re that set on it, you may sit in my conference room and wade through the statutes—free of charge. I’ll even provide a pen, paper and ink so you can take notes.”
Why had she thought the man kindly? He was as quick to dismiss her as her father. How many times had she eagerly listened to him talk about his hotels only to have her suggestions dismissed? She might be a woman, but her ideas were as valid as any man’s. If given the opportunity, she could help run his hotels. Not that he’d considered her. Like so many men, he didn’t think her capable.
Well, she would show them. She would pore over the volume Mr. Price had handed her. If there was a way to defeat Henry, she would find it.
* * *
The sooner Henry could leave the smithy, the better. The lingering scent of charcoal in the air caused his eyes to sting and his chest to grow heavy. Everywhere he looked, he could see Jack. If it weren’t for his appointment with a prospective buyer, he wouldn’t be here now. At least the man hadn’t wanted to fire up the forge.
Mr. Weitemeyer scanned the shop. His gaze came to rest on Henry. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the place, Mr. Hawthorn, but I had something else in mind. The blacksmith shop I worked at up in Placerville is larger, as is the town itself. I want to build a business like that, so I don’t reckon Sutter Creek is the spot for me.”
“I understand. Thanks for coming down. I wish you well on your search.”
Mr. Weitemeyer strode in the direction of his horse, which he’d left tied up nearby. Henry locked the doors of the smithy, blew into his hands to warm them and heaved a sigh of relief. Although little remained in Jack’s bank account, Henry wasn’t ready to let go of this tie to his brother yet. He had no interest in returning to the profession, but this shop had been Jack’s dream. Perhaps if a young man came along who loved it as much as Jack had, Henry could part with it. He prayed the Lord would lead the right buyer his way.
Lavinia closed the door of the lawyer’s office three doors down, stepped onto the plank walkway and headed toward Henry, although she had yet to see him. She appeared to be focused on something in her hand. Her meeting with Mr. Price must have been successful because she looked happy.
Her smile drew his attention to her lovely lips. He’d thought of them far too often the past couple of days. When he’d looked up and discovered the mistletoe above them, he’d had the strongest urge to give the children what they’d wanted and kiss their beautiful aunt. Yes, beautiful. He’d tried his best not to notice, but with that mass of dark curls piled on her head, her expressive cocoa-colored eyes and her heart-shaped face, she was striking.
What he’d found most interesting about Lavinia’s reaction to the children’s surprise was the way she’d blushed. For a moment, he’d gotten the impression she was considering welcoming his kiss, but she’d stepped back before he could be sure.
He might have been disappointed if it hadn’t been for the girls’ probing questions. When Marcie had asked why Lavinia didn’t kiss him, she hadn’t laughed at the idea. Instead, she’d said, a kiss is something special, and your uncle and I haven’t known each other that long. That answer held exciting possibilities. Her response to Dot’s question had made him wonder if Lavinia was as attracted to him as he was to her. She’d said without hesitation that she liked him, Henry Hawthorn, former blacksmith. A man beneath her station. He’d been more than willing to spare her further embarrassment after that and had given Dot a kiss instead.
Lavinia drew near, saw him and held up the key.
“You got it?”
She nodded enthusiastically, setting the loose curls at her temples bobbing. “I did.”
“Good. I was afraid Benedict would let you down.”
“He didn’t do that, but he raised the price.” She named a figure that caused him to let loose with a low whistle. “I’m just thankful he let me rent the place.”
If Henry had any doubts how much Lavinia had invested in holding her party, she’d just dispelled them. She was willing to pay an amount for one night’s use of the hall equal to what he would take in if guests booked all fifteen rooms in his hotel. Even if he had that kind of ready cash, which he didn’t, he would have turned Benedict down cold. But not Lavinia. It appear
ed she was determined to host an event unlike anything the children had ever seen. “You seem to be taking it well.”
“I’m disappointed, of course, but the important thing is that I can proceed with my plans. Right now, I need to pick up the children at school. After that, I can take a closer look at the meeting hall. Would you like to join me?”
Very much. “Sure.”
His response earned him another of Lavinia’s sunny smiles. He strolled along Main Street with her by his side, occasionally steadying her. Due to the rain yesterday, followed by a dip in the temperature today, the wooden walkways were slippery.
If anyone would have told him ten years ago that she would be at his side with her hands firmly wrapped around the crook of his arm, he wouldn’t have believed it. He certainly wouldn’t have believed how much he enjoyed having her there. Then again, what man wouldn’t welcome the opportunity to escort a beautiful woman?
There was more to Lavinia than he’d first thought. She might be hosting a party the likes of which Sutter Creek had never seen to prove to him how capable she was of caring for the children—which was entirely unnecessary, since she wouldn’t be taking them with her—but he’d watched her push herself in other ways. She was learning how to cook. He wouldn’t forget her childlike glee when she mastered the art of flipping a fried egg or her satisfied smile when her attempts to tame Marcie’s mass of curls into a braid finally earned the finicky girl’s approval.
Walking into Norma’s kitchen Saturday morning and finding Lavinia bent over the table as she helped the girls with their handicraft had filled him with hope. If she could enjoy the simple pleasures of the season, perhaps she’d see their value and realize the children didn’t expect her to go to great lengths to make their Christmas special. Just having her here would help them through this first celebration without Jack and Pauline and make it memorable.
A stab of guilt stopped him. How could he have forgotten that this Christmas would also be Lavinia’s first without her sister? Perhaps she needed to do all she could to recreate the happy times when Pauline had been part of her life. If that was the case, he ought to be more supportive.
