by Karen Kirst
Gladys released Lavinia, pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and swiped at her glistening eyes. “Look at me, getting all weepy.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Mr. Staples is a good man.”
“I know that, but I feel like I’ve let you down. I never intended to have my head turned. It all happened so fast.”
“Everything will work out.” It would, provided Lavinia could locate a new housekeeper right away. “There’s one last thing I want to do before we take our places. You ought to smell as good as you look.” She reached for the perfume bottle on her dressing table and handed it to Gladys.
She removed the stopper and inhaled deeply. “Otto of Roses. My favorite. Thank you again, Miss Lavinia.” She dabbed some of the fragrant perfume behind each ear and on both wrists, replaced the cork and returned the bottle to the dressing table.
The scent of roses filled the air, a reminder of the grounds around Lavinia’s home back east. What fun she would have watching the children explore them. They thought their house and yard were large, which they were by Sutter Creek standards, but wait until they saw the gardens around her father’s house. She could imagine them playing hide-and-seek in the neatly trimmed hedgerows as she and Pauline had done when they were young.
Sadly, it being December, there were no flowers blooming in the beds around Jack and Pauline’s house, so Gladys wouldn’t have a bouquet. She’d said it didn’t matter, but Lavinia had searched for silk flowers in the shops on Main Street nonetheless. Unfortunately, they weren’t in high demand in a town where men made up eighty percent of the population.
A familiar male voice from the entryway below, where the small ceremony would take place, signaled the arrival of the minister. With the help of Norma’s husband, Henry had wheeled in the piano from the parlor and was ready to play Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.”
Lavinia checked the watch pinned to her bodice. “It’s almost time. I’ll see to your veil.” She lifted the shorter section of tulle over Gladys’s head and covered her face. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve dreamed of this day for decades.”
“I’ll go first, and—”
“Aunt Livy!” Marcie’s urgent voice on the other side of the door gave Lavinia pause.
Please, Lord. Let everything go as planned for Gladys’s sake. She yanked open the door. All three children were there, looking quite pleased with themselves. Marcie’s hands were behind her back.
“What is it?”
Alex opened his mouth to answer, but Marcie beat him to it. “Dot told us you couldn’t find any flowers for Miss Gladys in the shops, so we made something else. It’s green like her dress.” Marcie revealed what she’d been hiding—an artfully arranged bouquet comprised of greenery, including cedar boughs, rosemary stems and mistletoe sprigs. A trio of pinecones were interspersed, making the resulting creation delightful.
Lavinia took the bouquet from her niece. “This is beautiful. How did you manage it?”
This time Alex offered the explanation before Marcie could. “We found everything in the yard, and we asked Miss Norma to help us put it together.”
If only they hadn’t felt the need to include mistletoe. They did seem to have a fondness for it, though. “You climbed the oak tree again, didn’t you? Please tell me you were careful.”
“I was, Aunt Livy,” Alex assured her. “I did everything just the way Uncle Henry showed me and didn’t go too high, but that’s the only way to get to the mistletoe.”
The thought of Alex up a tree made Lavinia queasy, but Henry had assured her everything would be all right, since Alex had agreed not to go all the way to the top. It appeared she had a great deal to learn about raising a boy. “Well, you children did a fine job. This bouquet is lovely. Don’t you agree, Gladys?” She handed it to her housekeeper—her former housekeeper, she mentally corrected herself.
“Yes, Miss Lavinia. This bouquet is lovely. Thank you all.” She smiled at the children. “I’ll be right proud to carry it.”
“Alex, Marcie, Dot, come here, please!” Henry called from below. “It’s time.”
They scurried down the stairs with a thundering of boot heels, as though it were an ordinary day and they wore regular clothes instead of their Sunday best.
Gladys sighed. “Those young’uns can be a handful, but they add spice to life. It wouldn’t be the same around here if you whisked them away. Folks would miss them something fierce, especially Mr. Henry. Have you thought about that?”
She had. Many times. “I’ll write and let him know how they’re doing.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it.”
Apparently, Gladys felt free to speak her mind now that she was no longer an employee. “You know my reasons better than anyone. I can offer the children much more than they have here.”
“So you’ve said, but just make sure you’re doing the right thing.” Gladys patted Lavinia’s arm and smiled. “I know I am. It’s time for me to marry that wonderful man who’s waiting for me. Go on now. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t dawdle, Miss Lavinia, or I’ll be likely to clip your heels in my hurry. I’ve waited so long for this day and am as giddy as a schoolgirl.” Despite being a more mature bride than most, Gladys was every bit as jubilant as any of Lavinia’s young friends whose weddings she’d attended.
What would it be like to have a man love her, faults and all, as Mr. Staples did Gladys, and to love him in return? She might be the daughter of a successful hotelier who sent eligible men her way, but in her experience, they were just out to become Paul Crowne’s successor and heir. One day, the Lord willing, she’d meet a man who valued her for who she was and not what he could gain by marrying her.
She roused herself from her musings. This was Gladys’s day, and although her marriage complicated things, Lavinia couldn’t be happier for her friend because, at the heart of it, that’s what Gladys was.
“Since you no longer work for me, feel free to call me Lavinia.”
Gratitude shone from Gladys’s green eyes. “If you’re sure, I’d be honored to… Lavinia.”
“Quite sure. I’ll be on my way now.”
Lavinia stood on the upper landing and gazed at the small gathering below. Mr. Staples stood at the front with his brother beside him. The grocer, who’d closed his shop for the occasion, had invited a few friends, and Norma’s family was there, as were Henry and the children.
“There’s Aunt Livy!” Dot called out. “Doesn’t she look pretty? I picked out her dress.” The darling girl had chosen a ruby-red silk that was one of Lavinia’s favorites. Although not a color a bridesmaid would wear under normal circumstances, Gladys had pronounced it a fitting choice, saying it would go well with her green one and lend the wedding a Christmas feel.
Alex hushed Dot, but Lavinia barely registered the interruption. She was drawn to Henry, who stood beside the piano in hushed conversation with one of the guests. He wore his cutaway coat, as he had at Thanksgiving, and looked more handsome than ever. He turned, saw her and froze, his lips parted. For a fleeting moment, she imagined what it would be like to walk down the aisle to a fine man like him.
A memory of Pauline walking to Jack, her face aglow, flashed through Lavinia’s mind. Her father had spurned her sister because of her choice, though. Lavinia couldn’t endure that. With her mother and Pauline gone, her father was all she had left. He was counting on her to carry out his wishes. Even though getting guardianship of the children was proving to be more difficult than she’d thought, she wouldn’t let him down.
Henry sent her an appreciative smile and took his place at the piano. She waited for the music to begin, realizing too late that she hadn’t asked him what he’d be playing as she descended. If anyone could come up with something fitting, however, he could. She’d learned during their caroling practices that he could hear a piece twice
and pick it up. As if that wasn’t enough, he had a repertoire unlike anyone she’d ever known.
The first notes floated to her, causing her breath to hitch. He’d chosen a familiar tune by a fellow Scotsman, “O, My Love’s Like a Red, Red Rose.” She could recite every word of Robert Burns’s beloved poem. But why had Henry picked that song out of the many he knew? Could it be that he’d seen her in her red dress, been struck by her appearance and—
What was she thinking? He’d obviously chosen the romantic piece in honor of Gladys and Mr. Staples, celebrating their newfound love.
Despite her racing heart, Lavinia descended the stairs with no mishaps and stood by the minister, with Mr. Staples and his brother on the opposite side. Gladys glided down next, her eyes locked on her adoring groom.
The ceremony, although brief, affected Lavinia deeply. If Gladys could find love later in life, there was hope for Lavinia. One day, if it was God’s will, she would gaze at her new husband with adoration just as Gladys was gazing at Mr. Staples.
The minister pronounced the couple man and wife. Mr. Staples gave Gladys such an ardent kiss afterward that the dear woman’s cheeks turned as red as Lavinia’s dress.
Dot giggled. A mysterious look passed between Alex and Marcie. What were those two up to now? Lavinia wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She glanced at the doorways off the entryway. Other than the mistletoe in Gladys’s bouquet, there was none to be seen.
The men rushed forward to congratulate Mr. Staples while Lavinia hurried over to Gladys and grasped her hand. “I’m thrilled for you, Mrs. Staples.”
Dot appeared at Lavinia’s left, Alex and Marcie on her right.
“Do we have to call her Mrs. Staples now?” Marcie asked.
Gladys responded before Lavinia could. “I had a talk with your uncle, and he said it would be all right for you to call me Grandma S, if you’d like. Mr. Staples could be Grandpa S.”
Dot clapped her hands. “Goody! We’ve never had a grandma and grandpa before.”
The floor under Lavinia’s feet seemed to shift. “How did that happen?” Henry’s choice would make it even harder on the children when she gained custody and took them away.
“I mentioned to Henry how happy I was to marry but let it slip that I would miss the children when—”
“No!” Lavinia exclaimed. If the children learned about her plans to take them back to Philadelphia with her before she and Henry had come to an agreement, things could get complicated in a hurry.
Gladys smiled sweetly. “It’s all right, my dear. I was just going to say that I’ll miss them when I get back to town and am living in Mr. Staples’s house. That’s all. There’s no need to say anything else, is there?” Her words were innocent enough, but Lavinia detected an unspoken message. Had Gladys chosen to take Henry’s side regarding the guardianship? They had spent a good deal of time together. He’d even figured out how to make her laugh.
“Everything’s fine.” Lavinia resisted the urge to fan herself with her hand. The room had grown warm all of a sudden. She needed to get out of there. She raised her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention!”
The buzz of conversations ceased. “In honor of Mr. and Mrs. Staples’s marriage, we have refreshments for you in the parlor. Feel free to help yourselves.” Gladys had offered to make the desserts herself, but Henry had overheard her and insisted on doing the baking. He’d spent most of yesterday filling the house with mouthwatering scents.
The guests joined the happy couple around tables laden with tempting treats. Henry had seen to it that there was a nice selection. If he wanted, he could open a bakery and make a success of it. Lavinia sighed. Was there anything he couldn’t do?
Henry remained behind, moving the chairs the guests had used during the ceremony back into the dining room. Lavinia followed him and waited until the last of the chairs was in place. “Could we talk?”
“Now? There’s a wedding reception taking place across the way.” He inclined his head toward the parlor.
“It won’t take long. Gladys said you told the children they could call her and her husband, grandma and grandpa.”
“I take it you don’t like the idea.”
She didn’t. It would be hard enough for the children to say goodbye to their friends as it was. Having to leave behind a set of honorary grandparents would make the parting even more difficult. “They already have a grandfather.”
Henry gripped the back of the chair he’d just set in its place, drew in a breath and released it slowly. His tone was firm but kind. “They do, but he’s shown no interest in them before now. I realize he expects you to return with them, but I have to ask myself, why now, after all this time?”
“He wants to get to know them, to give them opportunities they don’t have here.”
“Perhaps, but he doesn’t know what they have here, and he doesn’t want to. You do. You’ve seen how happy they are. Taking them away isn’t the answer, Lavinia.” He closed the distance between them and looked into her eyes, his gaze tender but probing. “Deep down, you know that. You must.”
Thinking clearly grew difficult when he was so close, so caring, so…captivating. She struggled to come up with a strong argument. “I know you believe they’re better off here. That making wreaths, singing carols and skating in their stockings is enough. But there’s more to life than that. California is in its infancy. There are those who expect great things to happen here someday, but those things are available back east right now. My father can see that the children have access to the best our country has to offer. You want that for them, don’t you?”
A burst of childish laughter in the parlor put a smile on Henry’s face. Marcie’s, if Lavinia wasn’t mistaken. Henry glanced at the doorway and back at her. His expression and his voice softened, almost like a caress, even though he hadn’t touched her. “I want them to be happy. I want the same for you, but I don’t think taking the children back to your father’s house is the answer. You’ve been happy here. It’s given you an opportunity to break free, to see what you’re capable of.”
She wasn’t sure about herself, but he was capable of muddling her mind, making her question things she’d taken for granted. She was happy. Wasn’t she? She had a good life back home, and she could offer the children the same. She must keep her goal in mind. “California has more to offer than I would have thought, but it’s all the children have known. If they could see Philadelphia for themselves, they might appreciate it just as much. There were things you liked about it, weren’t there?”
“Since my parents passed on shortly after Jack and Pauline’s wedding, I can honestly say that everything I want is right here in Sutter Creek.”
His statement, uttered with those softly rolled R’s and such sincerity, filled her with hope. Was Henry letting her know that he liked having her here? Or was she just hearing what she wanted to hear? She’d have to give that some thought later, but what she needed now was to steer the conversation in a new direction before he figured out the effect he had on her. “Well, I’m here now, and I intend to see that the children have a good Christmas. My party should go a long way to making that happen.”
Henry took a step back, breaking the delightful sense of connection she’d felt with him. “How are things coming with that?”
“Just fine.” She wasn’t about to tell him that no one had responded to the advertisement she’d tacked up at the mercantile seeking a housekeeper. It had only been two days, though. She planned to talk with the ladies after the church service tomorrow. Surely, they would know if any of the womenfolk in town were seeking employment.
“Have you heard from the puppet company?”
She’d sent two letters but had yet to receive a reply. “I expect an answer Monday.”
“Let me know if you don’t get one. I mentioned the possibility of performing to my ve
ntriloquist friend, and he said he’d be interested.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” If she was to convince the children that she could offer them a life unlike anything they’d ever imagined, she needed to do this on her own.
The clearing of a throat drew her attention. One of the guests stood in the doorway. Lavinia couldn’t recall his name, but she remembered Mr. Staples saying that he was a banker. She’d never met him before, having only dealt with the teller.
Thankfully, Henry took charge. “Was there something you needed, Mr. Nichols?”
“I noticed you two were alone, so I wanted to take this opportunity to speak with you.”
“Is something wrong?” The concern in Henry’s tone didn’t bode well.
“I’d like you to come into my office Monday to talk about the mortgage payment.”
“What mortgage?” Henry asked. “Jack owned his shop outright.”
“It’s not the smithy I’m talking about. It’s the house.”
Henry threw up his hands in shock. “No! You must be mistaken.”
The dread in his voice sent a chill racing through Lavinia. “Are you certain, Mr. Nichols? I don’t recall hearing anything about a mortgage.”
“I’m sorry.” The banker took a step back. “I can see this has come as a surprise. If you’ll stop by my office Monday, we can sort things out then.”
“We’ll be there.” She nodded, and Mr. Nichols left.
Henry paced the length of the room three times and came to a stop before her, his breathing rapid and his hands clenched at his sides. “This makes no sense. Jack never said a word about taking out a loan.”
“Pauline never mentioned anything in her letters either. Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. You didn’t find anything to that effect in Jack’s files, did you?”
Henry shook his head. “I didn’t look.”
She kept her voice low, her tone free of accusation. Letting him know that she was watching his every move, seeking grounds to challenge him in court, could undermine her efforts. “They’ve been gone three months, but you haven’t looked through his desk?”
