by Keli Gwyn
“Don’t hurt yourself.” He reached over, unwound the string and rubbed her finger.
She took his hand in hers, turning it this way and that. He resisted the urge to pull away. “I noticed the stains when we were doing the baking. What happened? It looks like you’ve been working at a forge.”
“I was.”
“I didn’t think you planned to do that anymore.”
He didn’t, but... “I was at the smithy with Dealy. An idea struck me, and I set to work.” The image had come to him with such clarity. It wasn’t until he’d finished the piece that he’d questioned his impulsiveness.
“Ideas can be like that.” She let go of his hand and rested hers in her lap. “I’m glad you could pursue yours without hindrance.”
The sadness in her voice caused his chest to tighten. Lavinia had such high hopes for her party, but she’d encountered one setback after another. “I wish there was something I could do help.”
“You’ve done so much already—teaching me to bake, arranging for your friend to provide the entertainment.” She pinned him with a probing gaze. “Why?”
He looked at Lavinia, staring at him so intently, and the answer came to him with startling clarity. He was helping her because he cared about her and didn’t want her to leave. If she stayed in Sutter Creek, she could have what her heart desired.
From what Gladys had said, Lavinia’s life was a lonely one, although she’d never admit that. All she had was a distant, controlling father and a group of friends who accepted her, provided she followed the rules they lived by. No wonder she’d blossomed over the past few weeks. He knew just how to answer her question.
“I want your party to succeed because I want to see you happy.”
She stiffened. “I am happy.”
“Are you? Then why does taking the children to Philadelphia matter so much to you? You say it’s to give them advantages, but there’s little you can offer them there that they can’t get here.”
“What about an education? We have wonderful colleges.”
“We have them too, in Stockton, Santa Clara, San Jose, San Francisco and Benicia. That last one is even a girls’ school, so there will be opportunities for Marcie and Dot, too. The children could help shape this great state.”
“Perhaps, but it’s still rough and wild here.”
“Not for long. There’s been a rapid influx of culture. Your own father recognizes that. Why else would he have sent Mr. Worthington to scout out a location in San Francisco?”
She bristled. “Leave my father out of it!”
Things with her father must not be as great as she’d led him to believe. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just making an observation.”
Her hand flew to her chest, and she curled her upper body away from him. “I’m s-sorry.”
He shifted, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his side. “It’s all right.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, and a surge of protectiveness flowed through him—along with the realization of how much she’d come to mean to him. Her soft curls tickled his chin. He fought the urge to bury his face in the silky mass and breathe in the rosy scent he would forever associate with her.
The clomp of boots in the entryway caused her to jump aside, out of his embrace. She smoothed the collar of her dress.
Alex appeared in the doorway, looked from Lavinia to Henry and raised an eyebrow.
How much had the young fellow seen? “What do you need, Buddy?”
“We got all the cookies from the first batch decorated. Can we start on the other ones?”
“If they’re cool to the touch, yes,” Henry said.
“Good.” Alex gave them a lingering look, smiled and left.
An awkward silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking of the mantel clock and the popping and crackling of the fire on the grate.
Lavinia spoke first, her voice soft. “I had no right to snap at you. I know you mean well, but you don’t know what I’m dealing with.”
He had a pretty good idea. “I would if you told me.”
She looked at the ceiling as though she was praying, gave a nod and fixed her gaze on a spot near the top button of his shirt, his cravat having been shed when he was helping the children with the cookies. “In order to make the trip out here, I had to promise my father I’d return with the children. I can’t—I won’t let him down.”
Her slip was telling. Evidently, Lavinia feared what her father would do if she showed up without them. Given Paul Crowne’s history of disowning his eldest daughter, Lavinia’s fierce determination not to disappoint him made sense.
If only she wasn’t being forced to choose between satisfying her father and remaining true to herself. It was high time the domineering man realized his daughter was no longer a child. She was a bright, capable, kindhearted woman of twenty-six who deserved to live her own life, make her own choices. Sadly, it seemed the only way for her to do that was to walk away as Pauline had done.
Lavinia was strong, but was she strong enough to break free? That would mean putting the children’s needs and her desires ahead of her father’s demands. Could she do it?
Lord, I care for Lavinia and don’t want to see her hurt, but I’m afraid that’s inevitable since the children are staying here with me.
Unless there is another way. If so, please show me.
Chapter Thirteen
The woman Lavinia saw in the looking glass boasted cheeks almost as red as her dress, causing her to laugh at her reflection. She couldn’t be sure, but she might even be more excited about this party for the children’s classmates and their families than they were. And the youngsters had been talking about it all day, aside from the hour she and Henry had spent helping Alex and Marcie rehearse their carols one last time.
When Lavinia had received that note from Mr. Price three days ago, the floor had shifted beneath her feet—or so it had seemed. She’d feared he was also subtly letting her know that he wouldn’t take her case. Although learning that Mr. Benedict wouldn’t rent her his meeting room was a setback, it was one she could overcome. Not being able to challenge Henry for guardianship of the children wasn’t.
Norma had offered her a solution for her venue dilemma. The levelheaded woman had suggested using the schoolhouse. Although the smaller building with its space limitations wasn’t an ideal solution, since it meant hosting separate parties for their school and church friends on different dates than originally planned, things had worked out thanks to the children’s understanding and generous teacher. Miss Reed had welcomed the opportunity to combine the children’s choral performance with a party for the students’ families afterward, agreeing with everything Lavinia had planned—with one exception.
The capable young schoolmistress insisted on using a five-foot Christmas tree set on a table and trimmed with the children’s handiwork instead of the twelve-foot one trimmed with store-bought ornaments Lavinia had envisioned. She’d accepted the stipulation graciously while vowing to herself that the children would have a tall tree at home. She could picture a beautiful one in the entryway, reaching all the way to the top of the staircase.
A visit to Mr. Price’s office to discuss her need for his services the day after his note about the meeting hall had arrived had given her reason to hope. The lawyer had listened intently as she outlined the ways in which she believed Henry had neglected his duties as executor. Mr. Price had agreed that the probate court might take issue with the way Henry had gone about the sale of the smithy, considering the mortgage on the house and his need for ready cash.
When Mr. Price had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to take her case, she’d managed to school her features. When he’d said he would do everything in his power to get the probate judge to set a court date in the upcoming week due to her urgent need to return east before the fightin
g broke out, her composure had failed her. She’d given the lawyer such a vigorous handshake that he’d chuckled.
The thought of returning to Philadelphia with Alex, Marcie and Dot lifted her spirits. Her father would be pleased that she’d carried out his wishes. Once he got to know the children and saw how wonderful they were, he would fall in love with them as she had. They would miss their lives here, but once they saw what awaited them, they would adjust.
Leaving Henry would be hard on them, though. She could understand. He was a wonderful man—bright, talented, hardworking and full of love for the children.
She wandered to her bedroom window and gazed at the oak tree where he’d come to her rescue. She’d developed feelings for him. If she didn’t guard her heart, she could fall in love with him, making leaving that much harder.
But what if Henry cared for her, too? He didn’t, of course, but the possibility put a smile on her face.
“Aunt Livy.” Marcie stood in the doorway to Lavinia’s room. “Are you ready? Everybody else is.”
“I am.”
Marcie twirled in a circle. “The party will be fun.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She had yet to meet Henry’s friend Quinn and was doing her best not to worry. Henry had assured her the ventriloquist would be there, and he had yet to let her down. He’d spent the past two days helping her with the baking, the gift wrapping and other tasks. She couldn’t have asked for a more supportive friend, even if the fanciful part of her wished they could be more.
“I can’t wait for you to see my ornaments,” Marcie said.
“I’m looking forward to that.”
Her niece darted down the stairs. Lavinia paused at the upper landing as she had the day of Gladys and Mr. Staples’s wedding. Just as he had that morning, Henry looked up and saw her, sending her a smile so warm it melted her heart.
If only things were different. He’d come to mean more to her than she would have thought possible, considering their differences. She’d miss him greatly when it came time to leave, just as he would miss the children. Would he ever forgive her for taking them away from him?
She mustn’t think about that now. The families would be getting to the school soon, and she was eager to greet them.
After a brisk walk in the chilly night air, they arrived at the school to find things in order. Lavinia was relieved to finally meet Quinn. The ventriloquist had an engaging manner that put her fears to rest. A final check of the desks-turned-dessert-tables that had been shoved against the wall further calmed her nerves. The tempting treats remained hidden beneath dish towels for the time being. A large pot of hot cider sat on the stove, filling the air with the scents of cinnamon and cloves.
In a matter of minutes, the schoolhouse was full of excited children and their parents. Miss Reed helped her pupils find their places. Once the young singers were in position, their kindly teacher stepped to the front, facing rows of benches filled with parents and siblings too young to attend school. Henry sat on one side of Dot, Lavinia on the other. As she looked at other couples with children nestled between them, it struck her how much their trio resembled a family.
A longing she’d been keeping buried surfaced, bringing with it sadness. She dreamed of having a family, and yet she was already twenty-six, an age when an unmarried woman heard the word spinster whispered about her behind the fans of pitying matrons. What they didn’t know was that there had been several gentlemen interested in her, men her father had sent her way—after they’d received his approval, of course.
The potential suitors were bright and ambitious, although more interested in forming an alliance with her father than in getting to know her. A few of them, such as Stuart Worthington, were personable enough and would make good husbands for other women, but they hadn’t made her heart beat faster. Only one man had done that, and he was sharing the bench with her.
Lord, I’ve fallen for a man I can’t have. Even if Henry was interested in me, my father would never approve. What am I to do?
Miss Reed waited until the room grew quiet before speaking. “Welcome to the Christmas concert. If you’re not in a festive mood already, you soon will be.” She held out a hand toward Lavinia. “Following the children’s performance, you’re invited to stay for a party hosted by Miss Crowne, who is Alex and Marcie Hawthorn’s aunt from Philadelphia. Due to circumstances beyond Miss Crowne’s control, her event this fine Friday evening is taking the place of the one she’d originally planned for tomorrow night. And now, prepare to enjoy some beloved carols sung by my talented students.”
The pianist, Mrs. Keyes, began the prelude. The kindly woman, who also played for their church services, had accepted Lavinia’s invitation to provide the background music later.
Miss Reed faced the children, went up on her toes and raised her hands. She brought them down on the children’s opening note. They started singing, their youthful voices filling the room. Not surprisingly, Marcie’s stood out.
Lavinia glanced at Henry, who looked as handsome and as charming as ever, and shared a smile with him. The moment didn’t last long, but the sense of connection she experienced left her light-headed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed a man’s company as much as she did his. The past two days when they’d been holed up in the kitchen baking the sweets for tonight’s party had been delightful. As though by mutual consent, they’d made no mention of the barriers between them and had embraced the time together. She was drawn to him, so much so that, at times, she wondered what it would be like if she were free to make her own choices.
The trouble was, their situation hadn’t changed. He was determined to prevent her from taking the children to Philadelphia. Even if the children’s future wasn’t driving a wedge between Henry and her, there was the fact that they came from opposite backgrounds. He’d made it clear he valued a different way of life. Worse yet, he harbored ill will toward her father, blaming him for the breach with Pauline. Their father had been hardhearted, but he’d wanted what was best for her sister. Or so Lavinia had thought. Having experienced Pauline’s life firsthand had raised questions. But now was no time to think about that.
Lavinia shoved aside the doubts that had crept in over the past few weeks and focused on the choir. Watching Alex and Marcie perform warmed her heart. From the moment she’d met the children, she was struck with a profound sense of pride and a love unlike anything she’d imagined possible. Pauline had tried to describe that immediate connection in her letters, but until Lavinia experienced it herself, she hadn’t understood. She did now, which was why she couldn’t leave without the children. They were a part of her heart. So was Henry.
The thought had come as such a shock that she didn’t realize the final carol was over until Henry and Dot began clapping. Lavinia roused herself from her musings and joined the hearty applause.
Miss Reed spun around, waved a hand toward her students and beamed. She had to wait several moments for the room to quiet. “Thank you for sharing your children with me. I’m blessed to be able to work with them. They’ll be joining you now as we await a visit from a special guest, or I should say special guests. Miss Crowne, please come here and tell us what fun awaits us.”
Lavinia made her way to the front of the room. “Thank you, Miss Reed, for all you’ve done to make tonight’s choral performance and what’s yet to come possible. We’ll begin the remainder of this evening’s festivities with a visit from a renowned ventriloquist. After that, you’ll have an opportunity to partake of hot cider and an array of sweets as you visit with one another while Mrs. Keyes plays some more carols for your listening pleasure. And now, please welcome Mr. Quinn and his friends.”
She took her seat, grateful for the enthusiastic applause that greeted the elegantly dressed gentleman. With his swallowtail coat, bib-front white shirt and cravat, he would fit right in with those who attended her father’s Christma
s parties.
Mr. Quinn made a sweeping bow, straightened and smiled. “Thank you for the warm welcome, everyone, but I know you didn’t come to see me. I’m just an ordinary man, but I have some delightful friends. Would you like to meet them?”
His question was met with rousing cheers from the children—and a few parents. Things were off to a good start.
Mr. Quinn wheeled out a cart, sat on the stool behind it and whisked off the first of three brightly colored cloths with his free hand. “Meet Goldie, the sweetest little lady in the entire Mother Lode. Why don’t you say hello to the boys and girls, Goldie?”
His blonde sidekick spun to face him. “Because I don’t wanna. I want to eat some of those treats the nice lady was talking about instead. They smell really good. Mmm.”
The room exploded with laughter, easing the tension in Lavinia’s shoulders. Mr. Quinn had grabbed the children’s attention from the start. They sat enraptured the entire forty-five minutes as Goldie and her pals, Frank N. Sense and Murray, carried on a lively conversation that included a recounting of their visit to the manger when they’d delivered gifts to the baby Jesus. The talented entertainer invited different children to the front to assist him throughout his performance, including Marcie, who enjoyed being in the limelight, and Alex, who looked like he wanted to slip between the floorboards.
All too soon, Mr. Quinn brought his portion of the evening’s festivities to a close. Lavinia thanked him and invited the guests to enjoy the refreshments. As Henry had predicted, the table set up with gingerbread trees, frosting and candied fruit bits was a huge hit. Two of the older students had volunteered to help the younger children decorate their trees, leaving Lavinia free to mingle.
Alex and Marcie were huddled in a corner with some friends. Her nephew’s animated gestures came as a surprise. He usually let others take the lead. It was nice to see him overcoming his reticence. He glanced her way and waved. Lavinia waved back.
“Aunt Livy!”
She spun around to find Dot sitting on Henry’s shoulders. “Oh, my! I didn’t expect to see you up there.”
