Their Mistletoe Matchmakers

by Keli Gwyn

  He directed her attention to men working in the distance, the ringing of their picks against the rock creating a unique beat. “That mine off to the left is the Kennedy. The one on the right is the Pioneer.”

  “I’d heard mining was backbreaking work, but it looks even harder than I’d imagined. Did you ever do any?”

  “I tried my hand at it during my first year here, but it didn’t take me long to realize I’d rather do other things.” He glanced at her. A lock of his wavy hair had fallen across his forehead. She reached up to brush it into place, just as she would have done for Alex, but stopped herself. Lowering her wayward hand, she lapsed into silence. It stretched for a good minute, growing more awkward by the second before Henry broke it.

  “We’re only a mile from town, so we’ll be there soon.”

  “I hope the shops have what I’m after.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I wrote a list.” She opened her reticule, pulled out the sheet of paper and unfolded it. “To begin with, I’ll find some toys. Each of the children could use some clothes and a nice warm coat, too.”

  “What’s wrong with the clothes they have?”

  Their wardrobes were suited for their lives here in Sutter Creek, but their functional outfits weren’t something a child in her father’s house would wear. How could she respond without coming across as prideful or disparaging? “They’re fine, but I thought they might appreciate something new.”

  “I see.” His reply, coupled with a raised eyebrow, told her he knew perfectly well why she planned to buy the children some clothes. So be it. Surely, he could understand that Paul Crowne’s grandchildren couldn’t show up in corduroy and calico.

  They lapsed into silence once again, giving her an opportunity to study Henry. He was an incredibly handsome man, but appearances weren’t as important to him as they were to those in her social circle. Other than his coat, hat and cravat, items intentionally purchased to convey a certain image, his clothing was unremarkable, although the man himself was anything but.

  The longer she knew him, the more she found herself drawn to him. He had many admirable traits—kindness, helpfulness and an easygoing nature. And he was quite talented. His creativity was evident in his cooking, his music and his metal working, among other things. He was wonderful with the children, and he treated her with respect. If only things were different. He was a man she could believe in, the kind of man who stirred feelings in her no other man ever had.

  She mustn’t let herself think about Henry in that way, though. Even if they weren’t at odds over guardianship of the children, they were from different worlds. Nothing but heartache could come of giving way to her growing attraction.

  Lavinia pulled herself from her bittersweet musings when Henry drove into town a short time later. The wide main street with shops lining either side reminded her of the one in Sutter Creek, although it was shorter, ending with a row of two-story buildings facing them. “Jackson’s not any bigger than Sutter Creek, is it?”

  “You can’t see it all from here. The road turns down at Water Street, where the Louisiana House sits, and turns again on to Broadway, which continues up the hill on the other side of Jackson Creek. Businesses line all three streets.”

  He parked in front of the Union Livery Stable, hopped out and came around to help her down. She took his hand, exited the buggy with his assistance and prepared to pull away, but he continued to hold on. His grip was firm but not uncomfortably so. She looked up to find him staring at her.

  “I know we disagree on things, Lavinia, but can we declare a truce today? You’ve been looking forward to this outing, and I want you to have a good time.”

  Henry was full of surprises. She hardly knew what to think, but she had to say something. It would be nice to enjoy a day spent in the company of an attractive ma—another adult. “Fine. A truce, but that doesn’t mean our disagreements have been—”

  “Resolved? I understand, but it does mean we’ve set them aside for the time being and will act more like friends than foes.”

  Henry, a friend? Lavinia smiled. “Or perhaps friendly foes?”

  He chuckled, a warm, rich sound that seemed to rumble in his chest. “Friendly foes it is.” He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it, accompanied by a smile that lit his beautiful blue eyes.

  Beautiful? What had come over her? She might have agreed to set their differences aside for a day, but she mustn’t lower her defenses.

  He left her to wait for him on the raised sidewalk, out of danger from passing wagons, and went to converse with the liveryman, returning a short time later. “What would you like to do first? Get your shopping done or eat?”

  It was so like a man to think she could complete her shopping quickly. She needed time to see all the wares the various merchants offered, ponder her choices and make her decisions. For all she knew, she might not find what she was after, requiring additional outings to other destinations. “I’d like to peruse the shops first, enjoy a meal next and make my purchases afterward.”

  “Do you like French food? If so, we could dine at E. Le Jeune’s French Restaurant.”

  “We can get French food here? I had no idea. I would love to have filet de bœuf aux champignons with beignets de pomme for dessert, if they have those.” She hadn’t savored either since visiting Delmonico’s at her father’s request two years before. He liked to know what the competition was serving, but he was too well-known among the staff at New York’s hotels and restaurants to conduct scouting missions himself. She was more than willing to perform them in his place.

  “Tenderloin with mushrooms and apple fritters?” Henry patted his stomach. “Sounds good. If they have them, I’ll order the same.”

  Not until she heard his translation did she realize she’d used the French words for the items. “Do you speak French, too?” She wasn’t as fluent as she would have liked to be, but she’d learned some from her mother, who had emigrated with her family from the village of Saint-Omer in northern France when she was a girl. Lavinia’s grand-père had turned his knowledge of glass-making into a lucrative business, leaving her mother with a sizable inheritance that had given her father his start.

  “I learned some words that relate to cooking, but that’s all.”

  Lavinia tossed a playful smile his way. “And here I thought there wasn’t anything you didn’t know.”

  He acknowledged her gentle teasing with a wink, a gesture that set her traitorous heart to tripping. “Since you’re ready to go shopping, Mademoiselle Crowne, shall we begin?” He held out an arm, and she slipped her hands around it without hesitation.

  They set off down the wooden walkway, their boot heels thudding in unison. She rarely strolled with a gentleman, but Henry wasn’t like the potential suitors her father had sent her way, each of whom had hoped she’d take a shine to him. The men had known that her father was eager for her to choose a husband and male heir he could train to take over the running of his hotels. They’d all been well educated, hardworking and ambitious—like her father. The trouble was that they didn’t care about her thoughts, her opinions or her dreams any more than he did. She wanted a man who cared about what she had to say and loved her for who she was, not for what he could gain by marrying her.

  Henry and Lavinia spent the next hour exploring the shops. It took little time for her to see that the wares available in Jackson weren’t much different from those in Sutter Creek. Surely, he was aware of that. If so, had he suggested the trip to make a point? No. That couldn’t be it. He was a kind person and had been honest with her from the start about what he wanted and what he thought.

  They reached the foot of Broadway, and she inclined her head toward a bench alongside Jackson Creek. “Could we stop for a minute? There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

  “Sure.” He led the way, and they sat facin
g each other. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Why did you offer to bring me here?”

  “You wanted to go shopping somewhere other than Sutter Creek. This was the closest place.”

  “So there was no hidden motive?”

  He shook his head, but whether to indicate a negative answer or in disbelief, she wasn’t sure. She said nothing, patiently awaiting his response.

  “If you want to know my reasons, I’ll tell you. First, I hoped I might be able to help you choose things the children would like.”

  She worked to keep her tone as calm and as level as his. Not an easy task. “You don’t think I could make the selections on my own?”

  “Of course you could. I just thought that because I’ve known the children all their lives, you might welcome my insights.”

  “I see. And what insights might those be?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to hear them?”

  She nodded.

  “Very well. You said you’d like to get a pair of red boots for Marcie. She already has a perfectly fine black pair that isn’t but a few months old.”

  “But she admired my red ones.”

  “She did, but I think there are things she’d like more.”

  More than boots in her favorite color? Perhaps he didn’t know Marcie as well as he thought. Girls loved fancy footwear. She always had. “Such as?”

  “You’re right about Marcie liking to look nice, but there are things more important to her than that. Think of what she likes to do most of all.”

  Lavinia shrugged. “She likes to talk.”

  Henry smiled. “Exactly. So, what could you give her that would enable her to talk and have people eager to listen to her?”

  “I don’t know, but apparently you do. What do you have in mind?”

  “You picked one up in the mercantile and used it to ask me a question.”

  Understanding dawned, sending a ripple of surprise racing down her spine. “You’re talking about that puppet, aren’t you? Yes! That would be ideal. If I get her some puppets, she could put on plays for her friends—or even with them. She would love that.” When they got back home, Lavinia could have a portion of the nursery turned into a stage, complete with red velvet curtains like those in a real theater.

  Perhaps she’d been too quick to doubt Henry’s motives. It seemed he did want to be helpful. “What about Alex? I don’t have experience with boys.”

  “I think you know more than you realize. Tell me about him.”

  “Well, he’s bright and inquisitive, but he’s cautious, too.”

  Henry nodded his encouragement. “So, what might he like?”

  She thought back through everything they’d seen in the shops, trying to remember what Henry had looked at, anything he’d said. “You asked the hardware store owner about a small block plane. Were you thinking Alex would like one?”

  “I was. He spent an entire morning with me on the shed roof, listening and learning. I excused him soon after you and I talked that day, but he stayed and saw the job through, working alongside me the entire time and asking insightful questions. I think he has a knack for woodworking.”

  “But isn’t he a bit young to have tools of his own?”

  Henry’s lips twitched, as though he was trying not to smile. “I was in the smithy working with Pa and Jack before I could even see over the forge.”

  “Why, you wouldn’t have been much older than Dot. What could a child of four or five possibly do to help?”

  “Plenty. I swept the shop floor, hung completed horseshoes, hinges and other items on hooks and carried in coal from the shed out back. Alex is old enough for me to teach him basic carpentry skills. He’ll have fun while learning a valuable skill.”

  “I can see that, but tools seem so...utilitarian.”

  Henry laughed, a hearty sound without a trace of censure. “Forgive me. It’s just that men and tools go together like a baker and flour.”

  For rugged men like Henry, perhaps. Her father wouldn’t dream of hefting a hammer and didn’t even own one, as far as she knew. He hired workmen for such tasks.

  Just as he’d hired Jack and Henry to forge and install the iron work for the Royal Crowne Hotel. And then he’d disparaged Jack when Pauline had fallen in love with him as a no-account smithy with more brawn than brains.

  How wrong her father had been. If he’d taken the time to get to know Jack and his family, he would have seen how hardworking they were and realized how clever Henry was, designing railings that elicited compliments from many, including her father himself.

  She welcomed Henry’s insights. He’d suggested gifts sure to please Alex and Marcie. She would get her nephew a nice selection of carpentry tools, and when they got back to Philadelphia, she would have a workshop built for him.

  “Tools it is, then. And now for Dot. She’s such a loving, nurturing child, doling out her hugs and kisses freely. I know she treasures that rag doll of hers, so I thought I’d get her a lovely porcelain doll like those my sister and I had when we were young.”

  “She does love that doll. Pauline made it for her. I can still remember Dot’s squeal of delight when she saw it the first time.”

  Henry’s faraway look and pensive expression gave Lavinia pause. “You don’t think she’d appreciate a new doll, do you?”

  He returned his attention to her. “She might, but I wonder how such a fragile toy would hold up. As you’ve seen, the children can be a boisterous bunch. How did the dolls you and Pauline had fare?”

  A memory surfaced. She and Pauline hadn’t been allowed to play with their dolls for fear they might break them. Their governess had forced Lavinia to sit in a chair whenever she held her doll, issuing a warning to be very careful. It had taken much of the fun away.

  “You have a point. I’ll get her the cute wicker baby cradle I saw, instead.” It was small enough that Dot could keep it with her on board the ship. Gladys could make some dresses for the doll, too. Once they were back home, Lavinia would have a playhouse added to the nursery filled with child-sized furniture and a bed for Dot’s beloved doll.

  Henry’s stomach rumbled. “Forgive me.”

  “You’re hungry.” She glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice. “I didn’t realize what time it was. Shall we eat?”

  He smiled. “I’d like that.” He rose, offered her his arm and led the way to the restaurant.

  The meal was delicious, even if they had to settle for gâteau de pommes, or apple cake, instead of beignets. As good as the food was, the conversation was even better. Henry made a delightful companion. If it weren’t for the seemingly insurmountable obstacle between them, she might have been willing to think of him as a friend. When she penned him letters from Philadelphia with updates on the children, she would enjoy writing them and including anecdotes sure to make him smile as he was now.

  Why was he smiling?

  “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  She hadn’t. She’d been too busy thinking about him. Heat crept into her cheeks. She fanned her face. “Does it feel warm in here to you?”

  He grinned. “I’ve enjoyed the time with you, too.”

  Had she been that transparent? “I’m glad you suggested this place. Everything was delicious.”

  “I should see to the bill so you can complete your shopping now that you’ve made your decisions.” He motioned for the waiter.

  Henry’s generosity meant a great deal to her given that his funds were limited. “Thank you for treating me to such a wonderful meal.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed the company.” He winked at her.

  They returned to the various shops, and she made her purchases. Henry carried the wicker cradle by the handles with two colorful puppets, a hammer and a small pl
ane inside. She would see about getting the other items she wanted in Sutter Creek.

  The return trip flew by with Henry recounting tales of his life out west. He was a wonderful storyteller and had her laughing many times. No wonder Pauline had spoken so highly of him in her letters.

  He stopped the buggy in front of the house. “I’ll help you down, hide your gifts at my place and come back to see how Marcie did on her history recitation today. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  Lavinia went inside and was welcomed with a warm hug and smack on her cheek from Dot. The older children arrived a short time later and gathered around Lavinia in the parlor where she sat on one end of the settee, Dot on the other. Marcie regaled them with an animated account of the school day.

  When the exuberant girl wound down, Alex, who sat cross-legged on the rug, looked up at Lavinia. “Did you have a nice time with Uncle Henry today?”

  “I did.” She smiled at the memory of a delightful outing. Although there had been a tense moment at the start when he’d questioned her decision to buy the children some clothes, their truce had enabled her to enjoy herself. He’d been supportive of her plans, which she appreciated. Perhaps he’d seen her willingness to accept his input as a good sign and was beginning to realize she wanted what was best for the children, too.

  Marcie, seated beside her brother, did her best to feign disinterest by smoothing her skirts around her, but her sparkling eyes betrayed her. “Did the stores have what you were looking for, Aunt Livy?”

  “If you mean, will there be presents for you on Christmas morning, the answer is yes.”

  Dot squealed. “Goody!”

  Alex stood. “I’m going up to my room.”

  “Don’t be gone long,” Marcie said. “Uncle Henry will be back soon.”

  A mischievous look passed between the older children. Lavinia hoped they hadn’t concocted a plan to sneak up on Gladys and startle her as they’d done the day before. The poor woman had been so surprised she’d yelped, launching Alex and Marcie into fits of laughter.