The 12 Brides of Christmas Collection

by Mary Connealy

  “You don’t happen to have any more of those cookies I had earlier?”

  Grace’s emerald eyes grew wide and her cheeks turned pale. “No,” she said, her voice sounding much like a mother’s to a child asking for candy. “No more cookies for you.” She disappeared through the door leading back into the kitchen.

  Her expression was perplexing to be sure. It was almost as if she, too, believed that Maddie had made him fall in love with her.

  He had to put a stop to this nonsense. If he couldn’t ask for Maddie’s hand before he had to leave for the night—

  He shook his head. He’d had it planned out perfectly in his mind. A Christmas Eve proposal, a kiss under the mistletoe, a spring wedding.

  His fingers slipped into his coat pocket, touching the box containing his grandmother’s cameo. He had imagined it pinned to the ivory lace of Maddie’s wedding dress, nestled at her throat, showing the world that she was his.

  “There you are, my boy.” Easton Sinclair swept into the room, bringing with him the smoky tang of tobacco. “Seems Prissy was right.” He nodded toward the window where the fat white flakes continued to fall.

  “Yes, sir.” Harlan cleared his throat, his prepared speech deserting him in his time of need.

  “Get over here closer to the fire before you catch your death of cold,” the reverend instructed. His voice was deep and booming even when he wasn’t in the pulpit, and Harlan found himself immediately complying.

  The crackling fire warmed him. He hadn’t realized he was chilled. He was still floating on the warmth of Maddie’s sweet smile.

  “You said you had some business to discuss with me, young man.” That was just like Pastor Sinclair, straight to the point.

  “Not business, really. More of a personal matter.” He opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted.

  “Here we are.” Grace pushed her way back into the parlor, a tray of treats balanced in her arms.

  “Ah, something to warm us on the inside.” Pastor Sinclair nodded happily.

  Asking for Maddie’s hand would have to wait for a few more minutes. Her father, it seemed, had something of a sweet tooth. But Harlan could wait a little longer. Despite her wild claim that she had made him fall in love with her, he knew the truth.

  Ever the gracious hostess, Grace poured cups of steaming cocoa and passed out the tea biscuits shaped like Christmas trees.

  “Too bad there aren’t any more of those gingerbread cookies,” Pastor Sinclair said.

  “Too bad,” Grace murmured.

  Harlan was amazed that a sensible woman like Grace Sinclair would fall for such nonsense, but there it was. “Speaking of the cookies …”

  Grace shook her head. “You promised.”

  “Promised what?” Pastor Sinclair asked.

  “Did everyone forget I was in the house?” Maddie picked that very moment to sweep back into the room. As usual, she stole the breath from Harlan’s lungs.

  “Maddie, thank goodness.” Grace hustled to her sister’s side, whispering in her ear with an urgent hiss.

  Harlan couldn’t make out the words, but the intention was clear.

  Maddie’s eyes widened, and she gave a stiff nod.

  “Girls.” It seemed the reverend was accustomed to his daughters sharing secrets and thought the custom rude.

  “Forgive me, Pa.” Grace bowed toward him but offered no explanation.

  “Since we are all here—and this seems to be turning into a family matter—I have something I need to discuss with you, Pastor Sinclair.”

  Maddie started coughing, choking really, though on what, Harlan could not determine. She’d had nothing to eat, nothing to drink.

  Once again Grace raced to her side, patting her solicitously on the back and helping her over to the settee as she continued to cough and hiccup. “Let me get you something to drink, Sister.”

  Maddie nodded as another fit of whatever ailed her came upon her again. This one, though, seemed a little less genuine than the one before.

  Harlan immediately regretted his assumption. Maddie was clearly in distress as she covered her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief, tears welling in her eyes.

  “There, there,” Grace crooned as she poured Maddie a cup of cocoa. “I hope that cold isn’t already setting in. You’ll catch your death being out on a night like this.”

  “A warm drink will spruce her right up.” Pastor Sinclair nodded toward his daughters then turned to face Harlan. “You were saying?”

  “Well, sir, I—”

  Maddie jumped to her feet, her recovery miraculous indeed. “Harlan Calhoun, you can’t stay a minute longer. You’ll never be able to get home in this storm if you do.”

  Grace rushed from the room before he could reply, returning in mere seconds with his coat draped over one arm and his hat in her hand. “Prissy dried your coat by the fire, so you are ready to go. So glad you could join us this evening.” She held his coat out to him. When he didn’t immediately take it, she shook it at him.

  “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on in this house tonight?” Pastor Sinclair’s booming words were less of a question and more of a “someone had better start explaining” command.

  “Nothing, Father.” Grace and Maddie murmured their reply in unison, but neither one met their father’s piercing gaze.

  “Mr. Calhoun will not be going anywhere in this weather.” His tone brooked no argument.

  It didn’t deter Maddie. “But—”

  She stopped as Grace elbowed her. “Perhaps we should play a Christmas game.”

  “Like charades.”

  Their father blustered. “Perhaps we should read from the Bible instead.”

  “Wonderful idea.” Harlan rubbed his hands together. He loved reading from the book of Luke the details of the birth of their Lord and Savior. What a perfect way to spend Christmas Eve. Reading God’s Word with the woman he loved and her family.

  Maddie bustled off to find Prissy so she could join the festivities, while Grace continued to pin him with a warning stare.

  Harlan glanced toward the preacher and tried to relax. He was anxious to state his intentions. To gain her father’s blessing, to give Maddie the cameo, to start the rest of their life together on this special day. Yet it seemed all that would have to wait. But only for a while. He wanted to make Maddie his wife. And he would. As soon as he convinced her the herbs she got from Old Lady Farley were nothing more than a hoax.

  “Why don’t you start off, Harlan?” Pa looked to their guest and handed him the Bible.

  Maddie closed her eyes as he read, his deep voice like velvet as he shared with them the story of Mary and Joseph. Of their travels to Bethlehem, of no room at the inn. Of having a child and laying the babe in a manger.

  When he finished reading, Maddie was certain she had never loved him more. Why, oh why had she felt it necessary to taint the cookies? Why hadn’t she left it up to the Lord? And how was she supposed to know when the effects were worn off? When he no longer wanted to marry her? It was heartbreaking. The herbs could last two hours or two weeks! How was she supposed to know?

  And now he was staying the night.

  “Maddie?”

  She glanced up for the first time since they had gathered in the parlor. The two of them were alone. “Where did everyone go?” She had been daydreaming so much she hadn’t heard the others leave.

  “Your father went back to his study. Prissy said she was turning in for the night, and Grace went to find me a stocking to hang on the mantel.”

  “She did?”

  “I told her it wasn’t necessary, but …” He trailed off. Not that he had to say more. She knew how determined her sister could be when she set her mind to something. If Grace wanted Harlan to have a Christmas stocking, then a Christmas stocking he would have.

  “At least you won’t be getting coal in yours.” Maddie spoke the words before thinking then clamped her hand over her mouth. “That was churlish. I’m sorry.”

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nbsp; He smiled at her, his face lighting up with love. What she wouldn’t give to have him look at her like that for now and always. Without the tricks of Old Lady Farley. “You’re not going to get coal in your stocking,” he said. “That I can promise you. By some chance you do, I think I know a gift that will more than make up for it.” He touched his chest, close to his heart. The exact spot where she knew he had stored the beautiful cameo he’d presented her earlier.

  “Speaking of,” he started. He stood and stretched. With a smile, he pulled on the legs of his brown pants and the snowy-white shirt sleeves that peeked out from under his suit coat. “I have something important to discuss with your father.”

  “No!” Maddie tugged him back to the settee next to her. The surprise attack was most probably what pulled him off his feet, but she would take any help she could get. “Harlan, you can’t.”

  “Of course I can.” His smile was infectious, sweet and pure.

  “But you promised.”

  A frown pulled at his forehead, and he pushed to his feet. “I did not.”

  “You did,” she protested. “You promised me and Grace that you wouldn’t say anything to Pa about the cookies.”

  To her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed. “I’m not telling him about the cookies. I’m going to ask for your hand in marriage.”

  She pulled him back down next to her. “That’s the same thing.”

  “It is not.” He was on his feet in an instant.

  Maddie jerked on his arm until he agreed to sit once more. “It is.”

  He shook his head, but fortunately he didn’t try to get away. “Is this about the herbs again?”

  “That’s all it’s been about.”

  “Maddie, you’re being ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with those cookies.”

  “Oh Harlan, I wish you were right.”

  “I am right.” He took her hands, his blue eyes searching hers. “I want to make you my wife. And I want us to be wed this spring when the dogwoods and the daffodils are in bloom. It’s not so much to ask.”

  “No,” she whispered, caught in the warm cocoon of his voice.

  He leaned toward her, and she caught the scent of his sandalwood aftershave and the spice that had seemed to follow him all night. “You will be a beautiful bride,” he whispered, drawing closer still.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, the words barely a whisper in the waning distance between them.

  “More than you will ever know.” His words washed over her, his warm breath sweet with the scent of chocolate. His gaze flickered to her lips.

  He was going to kiss her!

  Maddie jumped to her feet.

  Harlan pulled her back down beside him. “Where are you going?”

  “Uh, to help Grace find you a stocking.” She was back on her feet in an instant.

  “I don’t need a stocking.” He tugged her back down beside him. Was he even closer now?

  “Of course you do.” She hopped to her feet for only a heartbeat before he pulled her back down.

  “Stop it, Maddie. You’re making me dizzy.”

  She pressed a hand to her forehead. He wasn’t the only one. “You can’t kiss me, Harlan.” Now those were words she never thought she’d say.

  “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t be so forward until after I’ve spoken to your father.”

  He rose to his feet, and she pulled him back down.

  “Oh no,” he said. “We’re not going to start this again.”

  She laid a hand on his arm, effectively stilling him beside her. “Please, Harlan.”

  “Please what, Maddie? I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Then don’t ask my father for my hand.” She almost choked on the words. “At least, not until the cookies—” She shook her head, unable to finish. “I’m not sure you’ll want to then, but wait … for me.”

  His gaze bored into hers. “It means that much to you?”

  She nodded. Couldn’t he see this was for his own good?

  “Then I’ll wait. But only until the morning. And not because I believe in some cookie mumbo-jumbo. But because you asked me to.”

  That was good enough for her. “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart breaking.

  Lord, dear Lord, please let him still love me in the morning.

  Chapter 3

  Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny, the warm rays bouncing off the blinding white snow. Maddie threw back the covers and rushed to get dressed, more excited than she had ever been on the Lord’s birthday.

  She said a quick prayer, since her joy had less to do with God and everything to do with Harlan Calhoun. Maybe today she would know the truth.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Grace quickly slipped into Maddie’s room. “Are you ready?”

  Maddie patted her hair in place. “Almost.” She couldn’t stop the smile of excitement racing across her face. She clasped her brush to her breast and turned to face her sister. “Today’s the day. Oh, Grace. I prayed and prayed last night. Do you think Harlan will still love me today?”

  The frown that pulled at her sister’s brow was anything but reassuring. “How are you supposed to know, Maddie?”

  Maddie dropped the brush on her dressing table and whirled around to face her sister. “I—I—” she sputtered. “I guess I’ll just know.” But her words sounded small in the space between them.

  “Did you ‘just know’ yesterday?”

  Maddie buried her face in her hands, her excitement draining away like rain off the roof. “What am I going to do?”

  Grace hugged her close. “As I see it, you can get down there and tell Pa all about what happened or you can go keep the two of them apart for a while longer.”

  Maddie straightened, wiping the tears from her cheeks as a new determination filled her. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll make him take me for a walk—”

  “Another one?”

  “—and keep him and Pa apart until it’s safe for him to go home.”

  “Have you seen the snow out there? He may be here for days.”

  “Then I’ll pray for the snow to melt. Pray with me, Grace.”

  Her sister shook her head. “I’ll pray all right, for you to return to your senses.”

  Maddie stuck out her tongue at Grace like she had when they were children. “I have my senses. Just pray that Harlan comes back to his.”

  And with that she raised the hem of her skirt and rushed out the door. Her plan would be for naught if Harlan got to her father first.

  She skipped down the stairs as fast as she dared, saying a little prayer with each step that her father had somehow managed to sleep in and wasn’t already—

  “Merry Christmas, Madeline.” Her father beamed at her from his place by the mantel. The stockings had already been filled with crunchy nuts and delicious oranges. At least she hoped that was what caused the rounded bulges in her sock and not coal.

  “Merry Christmas, Maddie.”

  She whirled around to see Harlan casually standing by the big armchair next to the Christmas tree. He must have been sitting there the entire time, standing when she entered the room. She was too late.

  “Have you been awake long?” she asked, looking from one man to the other.

  “Oh, a while.” Harlan’s eyes twinkled as he spoke. If the look on his face was any indication, then he had been up long enough to talk to her father.

  “Harlan here was just telling me about the latest fad on the East Coast.”

  “He was?” Did that mean he hadn’t been asking for her hand? Maybe she wasn’t too late after all.

  “Are you ready to hear this?” her father asked with a chuckle. “Wedding cakes.”

  Maddie stumbled but managed to catch herself before she fell headlong onto the rug. “Wedding cakes?” she whispered, her hopes falling like last night’s snow.

  “It seems the bride gets this large cake all elaborately decorated with fruit and flowers. It sounds like quite a sight.”
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br />   Maddie turned toward Harlan, the question she so desperately needed to ask stuck somewhere between her brain and her lips.

  “It’s morning, Maddie,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts.

  “It is,” she agreed, carefully forming her words. She wanted nothing less than to jump up and down and scream in frustration. Instead, she spoke as calmly as possible. “Harlan, will you take a walk with me before breakfast?”

  “Why, Daughter, it’s below freezing out there.”

  “Please, Harlan.”

  He gave a quick nod. “Get your coat, my dear.”

  Fortunately, her father didn’t protest further. Maddie donned her cloak and hustled Harlan out the door as quickly as possible.

  The air wasn’t quite as cold as it had been the night before, but still their breaths came out in little puffs of vapor.

  “It’s a beautiful day.” Harlan looked up at the cloudless Christmas sky, squinting against the bright rays of the sun.

  “How are you … feeling this morning?”

  She hated Grace’s logic. How was she supposed to know if Harlan was over the cookies? Maybe she should run down to Old Lady Farley’s and ask.

  Maddie pushed the thought away. That was no way to keep her little secret.

  “I slept like a baby,” Harlan replied, stepping off the porch and into the pile of snow lining the house.

  “Any … changes this morning?”

  He turned back to face her. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “What?” she asked with feigned innocence. She had to know. And how would she find out without asking?

  “Is this about those cookies?” He shook his head. “I was hoping you would be over it by this morning.”

  Me, too. “I can’t believe you aren’t taking this more seriously.” She stamped her foot on the porch for emphasis. A small avalanche of snow fell from the roof, loosened by her motion.

  “Whoa!” Harlan danced backward, but not before the snow cascaded around him. He shuffled a bit more as he tried to shake off the snow.

  “Harlan!” Maddie raced off the porch. “Are you all right?” She slipped on the last step and fell headlong into his arms.

  He took a step back, and another, trying to regain his balance; then the two of them fell into the snow.