The 12 Brides of Christmas Collection

by Mary Connealy

  Mustering every bit of strength she possessed, Esther smiled. “I’m the one who’s grateful. If it weren’t for you, my dream of giving Susan her Christmas star would have remained just that—a dream. Thanks to you, she will have something she can treasure for the rest of her life.”

  And Esther would have memories of these few sweet weeks when Jeremy was part of her life. He filled the empty spaces deep inside her. He made ordinary days special. He brought color to what had been a gray life. Esther lowered her eyes and pretended that the trout demanded her attention. She didn’t want Jeremy to read the emotion in her eyes.

  Just being in the same room with him lifted her spirits, and when he smiled at her, Esther’s heart overflowed with happiness. She placed a piece of trout on her fork and raised it to her lips. She could deny it no longer. She loved Jeremy. He was the man who’d put a spring in her step. He was kind, talented, and generous. Oh, why mince words? Jeremy was everything she’d dreamed of in a man. If only they had a future.

  But they did not. He was leaving, and she was staying. That was the way it had to be. Even if Jeremy had asked her to go with him, Esther would have refused. If there was one thing she knew, it was that she would be miserable sharing the itinerant life that was so important to him. And misery was the quickest way to destroy love. Esther wouldn’t take that risk, for it wasn’t only her heart that was at stake. Jeremy had been hurt once. She would not be the one to hurt him a second time.

  Chapter 7

  “I don’t understand it.” Jeremy muttered the words under his breath as he sat on the edge of the chair and unstrapped his left foot. He’d believed Esther would be pleased by dinner at the InterOcean, and for a while it had seemed that she was enjoying not just the food and atmosphere but also his company. Her eyes had shone with what he thought was genuine happiness, and her cheeks had borne a most becoming flush. Then suddenly the lovely glow had faded, and only a blind man would have missed the sadness in her eyes. Esther had said all the right words, but Jeremy could tell that she wasn’t happy, and that had spoiled the evening for him.

  He wanted Esther to be happy. Oh, how he wanted her to be happy. But she wasn’t, and he wasn’t certain why. Though he’d replayed the evening a dozen times, trying to understand what had caused the change, the only clue he had was that she’d looked sorrowful when she spoke of the Christmas star. Perhaps Esther’s thoughts had returned to the past and she’d wished she’d had her own star, that Chester had survived the war and given her the life she’d dreamed of.

  Jeremy rubbed petroleum jelly into his stump as he did each night. Though that eased the pain in his leg, it did nothing to assuage the pain in his heart. He hadn’t been lying when he told Esther that he enjoyed seeing new parts of the country. What he hadn’t told her was that the itinerant life was lonely. For years, Jeremy had prayed for a home of his own and a woman to share it. And now when it seemed that his prayers were close to being answered, he feared that once again they’d be dashed, unless he could find a way to make Esther happy. Jeremy couldn’t bring Chester back to life, but surely there was something he could do to make her eyes sparkle again.

  All he had to do was find it.

  What a fool she was! Esther winced as the brush tangled in her hair, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She had spoiled a perfectly wonderful evening by worrying about her future. Hadn’t she learned anything in her thirty-eight years? She knew she couldn’t control the future. Only God could. She knew she needed to trust Him. He’d healed her heart after Chester’s death; He’d brought her here and shown her the way to succeed. He would guide her to her future, if only she would let Him.

  Her hair needed to be braided, but that could wait. There was a greater need right now. Esther reached for the Bible on her bedside table and opened it to the book of Jeremiah. Chapter 29, verse 11 had always brought her comfort, and it did not fail her now: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

  Esther closed her eyes, letting the words sink into her heart. When she felt the familiar comfort settle over her, she read the next verse. “Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.” The promise of peace was there, but if she wanted it, she needed to ask for it.

  Kneeling beside her bed, Esther bowed her head. “Dear Lord, help me find joy in each day. Show me the path You have prepared for me.”

  Though the future was still clouded, that night she slept better than she had in months.

  From her vantage point behind the counter, Esther watched as Jeremy put the final brushstroke on the painting.

  “We’re finished, Susan.”

  “Can I see it?” Susan asked as she slid from the stool. “You’ve been so secretive.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Your aunt told me that’s part of the tradition. Although others can see the portrait, you need to wait until your wedding day.”

  Susan’s pout drew Esther to her niece’s side, and if that meant that she was near to Jeremy, that was all right, too. Though she’d tried her best to regain the special feeling of closeness they’d shared at the InterOcean, Esther had failed. It seemed as though a barrier had been erected between them, and nothing she said or did demolished it. Jeremy seemed preoccupied. He’d even stopped eating with her and Susan, claiming he had work to do and couldn’t afford the time. The worst part was that although Esther suspected she had created the barrier, she had no idea how to make it disappear.

  “Jeremy’s right. It’s only eight more days.” A quick glance at the canvas confirmed what Esther had thought: the painting was magnificent. Turning to Jeremy, she raised an eyebrow. “When will you have it framed?”

  “Two days. It needs to be completely dry first. If it’s convenient for you, I’ll bring it Saturday afternoon on my way back from Mrs. Edgar’s house.”

  This was what Esther had feared. Today would be the end of her time with Jeremy. Oh, she’d see him occasionally while he was still in Cheyenne, but those wonderful days of sharing meals and conversations with him, of having only to look across the room to see him, were over.

  “The offer of using the bakery as your studio is still open,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as if she were pleading.

  He nodded as he dipped his brush into turpentine. “I appreciate that, but Mrs. Edgar doesn’t want anyone to know she’s having her portrait painted. Apparently her husband has been asking for a miniature to put in his watch for years. When Mrs. Edgar heard about Susan and Michael’s portrait, she decided this would be the year Mr. Edgar got his wish.”

  “Will you have enough time to finish it?” Susan’s portrait had taken almost three weeks to complete.

  Jeremy nodded again. “I just won’t be sleeping very much.” Or sharing meals with her.

  “I’m sure it’ll be as wonderful as Susan’s portrait.” Esther darted another glance at the finished work. Jeremy had captured more than Susan and Michael’s features; he’d captured their love. Though the other Christmas stars were beautiful, this one was spectacular. “I can never thank you enough.”

  “It was truly my pleasure.” For the first time since the night at the InterOcean, Jeremy’s smile seemed unfettered. As the clock chimed, the smile turned into a frown. “I’m sorry to rush away, but I have another appointment this afternoon.”

  A minute later he was gone, leaving Esther with an enormous void deep inside her.

  Jeremy pulled his watch from his pocket, trying not to scowl when he realized that the store would close in five minutes. If he were able, he’d run, but running had not been a possibility since Antietam. When he opened the door to Mullen’s Fine Jewelry, the clock was striking five, and the proprietor seemed on the verge of locking the door.

  “Thank you for waiting for me. I’m sorry I’m so late.” Jeremy brushed snow from his coat. “Were you able to find one?”

  As the jeweler shook his head, his
elaborately waxed and curled mustache wiggled. “I sent telegrams to my best suppliers, but no one had what you want.”

  Though he’d feared this would be the case, Jeremy could not disguise his disappointment. “I know I didn’t give you much notice.”

  Mr. Mullen stepped behind the main display case. The assortment of gold and silver pieces, many decorated with gemstones or pearls, was the best in Cheyenne, yet it held no appeal for Jeremy. There was only one thing he wanted.

  “That’s true,” Mr. Mullen agreed. “You didn’t give me much notice. On top of that, it’s a busy time of the year for every jeweler. I was afraid I would not be able to find it. That’s why—”

  Jeremy had heard enough. This was one dream that would not come true. “There’s no need to apologize, Mr. Mullen. I know you did your best. The fault is mine.”

  The jeweler fingered his mustache, almost as if he were trying to hide a smile. That was absurd. There was no reason to smile.

  “If you’d let me finish, you’d know that I wasn’t going to apologize.” Mr. Mullen’s words came out as little more than a reprimand. “When you first approached me, I knew it was unlikely anyone would have what you need. That’s why I took the liberty of making one.” He reached under the counter and brought out a cloth bag. “Is this what you had in mind?”

  Jeremy stared in amazement at the object in Mr. Mullen’s hand. It was everything he’d dreamed of and more. “It’s perfect.”

  “Is something wrong, Aunt Esther?”

  Startled by her niece’s approach, Esther dropped the rolling pin. As she bent down to retrieve it, she frowned when she saw the amount of flour she’d spilled onto the floor. This wasn’t like her. But then the way she’d been feeling for the past few days wasn’t like her, either. Despite her prayers, the future was still unclear.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Though Esther had hoped that her indecision hadn’t been obvious, Susan had seen behind the mask she’d been wearing. “I’m simply extra busy this year.” That wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. Esther had spent far too much time dreaming about a future that would never happen.

  Susan perched on the edge of a chair. “It’s my wedding, isn’t it? I should never have planned a Christmas wedding. I know how busy the bakery is during December.”

  After rinsing the rolling pin, Esther resumed her work on the piecrusts, grateful that the task kept her back to Susan. She didn’t want her niece to see the confusion she knew was reflected in her eyes. “It’s not your fault, Susan. This is the perfect time for you and Michael to marry. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Being busy should have kept her mind focused on happier thoughts than Jeremy’s absence.

  “But something is wrong,” Susan persisted. “I can tell.”

  Esther hadn’t planned to say anything to Susan until she’d made her decision, but the girl’s obvious concern made her admit, “I’ve been thinking about my future. I’m trying to decide whether I should sell the bakery.”

  “What?” Susan jumped up from the chair and put her arm around Esther’s waist, turning her until they were facing. “You said this was your home. Your life.”

  Esther nodded slowly. “That’s true. You and the bakery have been my life for the last ten years.” She laid a finger under Susan’s chin, tipping it upward. “They’ve been wonderful years, but it feels as if they’ve been a season in my life and now that season is ending.”

  Susan was silent for a moment, her eyes searching Esther’s face as if she sought a meaning behind the words. “If you do sell the bakery, you can live with Michael and me.”

  Her niece’s generous offer did not surprise Esther, but there was only one possible answer. “Thank you, Susan, but I cannot do that. You and Michael are starting your life together. As much as I love you, I know it would be wrong for me to be part of that life.”

  Susan looked bewildered. “But what would you do?”

  “I’m not sure.” That was the reason Esther hadn’t slept last night. “I know what I want to do, but I’m not sure that’s possible.” If wishes came true and prayers were answered, she would spend the rest of her life with Jeremy, but he’d never spoken of love or of wanting her to be a permanent part of his life.

  Bewilderment turned to a calculating look as Susan stared at her, and for the briefest of moments Esther feared her niece had read her thoughts. Impossible.

  “Aren’t you the one who told me Grandma Hathaway said Christmas was the season of miracles?”

  Esther nodded, remembering the number of times her mother had said exactly that. “Yes, but …”

  “Then start praying for one.”

  Esther did.

  Chapter 8

  Three days until Christmas. Jeremy peered into the mirror as he wielded his razor. No point in nicking sensitive skin. They’d be a busy three days, but he wasn’t complaining. No, sirree. If everything went the way he prayed it would, if he had enough courage to do all that he planned, this would be his best Christmas ever.

  The first part was easy. He would finish Mrs. Edgar’s portrait this afternoon, frame it tomorrow night, and then deliver it early on Christmas Eve morning. The second part was more difficult. Laying down the razor, he studied his face. No whiskers visible. He rinsed the bits of shaving cream from his face, then toweled it dry. Those were all mechanical tasks, things he did every day. What he was contemplating was far more difficult.

  He’d completed the other painting last night so that it, too, would be ready for delivery on Christmas Eve or perhaps Christmas morning. The question was whether he could muster the courage to do that. While it had seemed like a good idea when he’d first considered it, now he wasn’t so certain. But there was no need to make a decision this morning. He had three more days.

  Dressing quickly, he descended the stairs for breakfast. First things first. He’d put the final touches on Mrs. Edgar’s portrait, then think about the other one.

  “You have a letter, Mr. Snyder.” Mrs. Tyson grinned as she handed him a cream-colored envelope. “A young woman just delivered it.”

  Jeremy hadn’t been expecting mail, and he didn’t recognize the handwriting. Carefully running his finger beneath the flap, he opened the envelope and withdrew the heavy card, his eyes widening in surprise when he realized it was an invitation to Susan’s wedding. Why had she invited him? Susan had said it was going to be a fairly small wedding, with only her and Michael’s family and a few close friends. Jeremy didn’t fit into either category.

  Uncertain how to reply, he slid the card back into the envelope, then realized there was a second piece of paper inside it. That was ordinary stationery, not the heavier vellum of the invitation. Curious, he unfolded the sheet and read:

  Dear Mr. Snyder,

  I hope you will join us on Christmas Eve. We attend services at 11:00 p.m. Afterward, Michael’s parents have invited us all for supper at their hotel. I know this is short notice, but it would bring me much pleasure to have you as part of our group. You need not reply, but if you can come, please arrive at our home at 10:30 p.m.

  Sincerely yours,

  Susan Mitchell

  Jeremy sank onto the hallway bench, trying to regain his equilibrium in the face of this extraordinary missive. By rights, the invitation should have come from Esther, not Susan. By rights, Jeremy should refuse it. Yet what if this was the answer he sought, the impetus he needed to gather his courage?

  Jeremy nodded. When he’d read Susan’s note, he’d envisioned himself walking to church with Esther at his side, sitting next to her, sharing a hymnal with her, and afterward …

  This was one invitation he would not refuse.

  “Now, aren’t you glad I convinced you to wear this gown?” As Susan slid the last button into its loop, she turned Esther toward the cheval glass. “Look.”

  Esther stared at her reflection in the mirror, not quite believing what she saw. The burgundy silk with the elaborate bustle and the double box pleats circling the hem was the most elegant
garment she had ever owned, and the intricate hairstyle Susan had insisted complemented the gown left Esther feeling as if she were looking at a stranger. An elegant stranger.

  “Are you sure this is me?”

  Susan nodded. “The new you. You want to make a good impression on Michael’s parents, don’t you?” Though Esther had had more than a few minutes’ worry over her first meeting with the elder Porters, Susan’s almost secretive smile made her think her niece had something else in mind. That was silly, of course, for what else could Susan be thinking of?

  “It’s very kind of Michael’s parents to host supper tonight.” The couple had arrived in town only this morning but had made all the arrangements in advance, telling Esther they wanted to thank her for the many meals she had given Michael over the course of his courtship.

  It was the same argument Jeremy had made when he’d invited her to dine at the InterOcean, but tonight would be far different from that evening. Though Esther had no doubt that the meal would be enjoyable, she was not filled with the same anticipation she’d felt before. The reason was simple: instead of being half of a couple, tonight Esther would be part of a group, a group that did not include Jeremy.

  A firm knock on the door broke her reverie. “The Porters are early,” she said, glancing at the clock on the bureau.

  “Do you mind going?” Susan gestured toward the lock of hair that had somehow come loose from her coiffure.

  Knowing her niece wanted everything to be perfect, Esther headed toward the door. When she opened it, she stared in amazement as the blood drained from her face.

  “Jeremy! Is something wrong?”

  His heart sank. This was not the reception he’d expected. Though he’d suspected that Susan had sent the invitation without consulting Esther, he had assumed she would have told her before now. The shock on Esther’s face made it clear that she had not expected him.