Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas

by Kathryn Le Veque

  With one palm flattened on her chest, the woman’s eyes grew round. Then they narrowed and her mouth thinned. “I have never heard more nonsense than what you just spoke. Why Barrett Patterson, I am appalled to hear you speak of yourself in such a manner.”

  “With all due respect, Ma’am. You know it is the truth.”

  “Perhaps in your mind. But no one here sees you as anything but a viable, whole man.”

  Temper ebbed at the edges as he spoke. “However, I am not.”

  Both sat without speaking for a few moments. Barrett wanted to leave so he could hurry back to the wagon, climb onto the bench and return home. Better to take the coward’s way out and let the mayor’s wife inform Christina of his decision. However, he could not make himself stand. All of a sudden, exhaustion filled him.

  It had been a bad idea to come into town this day. He’d barely slept and now the conversation was draining.

  Mrs. Withers let out a breath. “If this is your decision, not much can be done about it. However, I will give you three days to reconsider before speaking to Christina about your final decision.”

  “I don’t need three days...”

  “Listen,” she interrupted. “Tomorrow at church, it will be discreetly revealed she is looking to marry. Being so lovely and with the lack of women in this town, I don’t foresee it taking very long for gentlemen to come calling.”

  So far, he could see her plan working, yet he had to temper the urge to tell her not to do it. She’d come to marry him, after all.

  Nan came into the room with Fella on her heels. “Looks like he needs to see you are well.” The dog sat down on his haunches and peered up at him. Barrett patted Fella’s large head and the dog settled its head down between his paws.

  Mrs. Withers smiled at the dog and continued. “Once any prospective husbands announce their intentions, it will be easier to allow her the freedom to accept one. You can then give Christina the freedom by letting her know you are not going forth with your offer to marry.”

  Barrett nodded blindly.

  “Oh goodness.” Mrs. Withers looked to the door with wide eyes. “She’s here. We’ll have to say you came about a rocking chair. I do want to order one for Judge. Let’s discuss it now.”

  The woman stood just as Christina entered. Her gaze met his for a short instant, but it was long enough for his stomach to flip as he rushed to stand.

  “I didn’t expect you, dear. Are you unwell?” Mrs. Withers motioned for Christina to enter. “Come sit down and join us.”

  Seeming reluctant, Christina lingered at the entrance to the parlor. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

  “Oh goodness, let me tell Nan about supper. Please, Christina, entertain Barrett until I return.” She rushed from the room after a warning glance in his direction.

  When Christina sat on a chair to his left, her gaze finally met his.

  Now that her eyes were not swollen, he was able to see them clearly. Christina’s eyes were dark brown. Her lips were full and she had a soft jawline. Barrett would have liked the opportunity to take his time studying her features.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking toward where Mrs. Withers had gone. “Olive seems flustered.”

  “No.” Barrett cleared his throat. “We are discussing a rocking chair.”

  “Oh.” She folded her hands. “Mrs. Wilkes speaks very highly of you.”

  “You shouldn’t believe her. She is biased based on the fact she considers me like a son.”

  It was delightful to see her lips curve. “I will keep that in mind,” she bantered back and flushed. “May I pour you more tea?”

  Both reached for the pot at the same time, his hand over hers and they froze as if unsure what to do. Christina retracted her hand first.

  “I am not accustomed to someone doing for me. You must excuse me.”

  “So you are not married then?” Christina gasped. “That was very forward of me.”

  He chuckled. “Not at all. No, I am not married and although Fella here is very intelligent, he’s yet to prepare a proper cup of tea.”

  Relieved at seeing her smile, Barrett wanted to continue speaking to her. However, the more he said, the more danger of there was of revealing he’d received the letter.

  Then again, there was a way to soften his release of her. If she gathered how lacking he was, perhaps she’d be the one to change her mind.

  “Would you join me for a walk, Miss Mills?” He decided it was a good time for her to see how inadequate of a partner he’d be. If she realized this prior to his revelation, it would be easier for them both later.

  “What a wonderful idea.” Mrs. Withers appeared at the doorway. “Barrett, we will finish our discussion in three days.”

  Christina looked between them as they exchanged looks, but she did not comment. Instead, she stood and retrieved the shawl she’d just removed.

  Once outside, she remained at his side as he struggled down the stairs with more trouble than normal. Fella waited at the bottom, head tilted to the side as if wondering what he was doing. Apparently, a good actor he’d never be.

  She threaded her hand through his arm and they made their way toward the side street. A couple of men across the way stopped speaking to watch them. Both of their gazes lingered on Christina. Barrett could not stop the surge of pride to be her companion.

  “How long have you lived here?” Her voice remained soft as she looked straight ahead, not seeming to notice the lingering stares of the group of men they approached.

  “Five years. I came here after the war. Thought I was ready, but my injuries were worse than I anticipated and I ended up a bed for weeks unable to care for myself.”

  She turned to him, looking up to study his face. “However did you manage?”

  The Hendersons, Maggie and Donald along with Mayme. They took care of me. I owe them my life.”

  “I see. There are many kind people in this world.” She pronounced the sentence as if the knowledge was new to her.

  “Yes, Miss Mills, there are kind people. Out here, however, they are harder to find. You have to ensure to always be on guard.” He stopped and faced her. “Promise me.”

  For a moment, she searched his face as if attempting to ascertain a hidden meaning. “I promise.”

  They walked just a short distance when he pretended to tire and leaned heavily on his cane. “I am afraid I must ask that we head back. My right leg, what is left of it, is troubling me today.”

  “Oh goodness, I had not thought of it.”

  Instead of seeming troubled by his circumstance, she took charge and pointed to a nearby bench. “Sit down. We’ll wait a bit before returning. It's a wonderful afternoon. I am thankful Mrs. Wilkes did not require me to remain longer today.”

  “What do you do there?” he asked, unsure of how long to wait before pronouncing he felt better.

  “Help with cooking, cleaning and setting up the two rooms she has for boarders.” Christina explained her duties with a ring of pride. Everything about her was puzzling. He wanted to know more about her. To find out why someone like her had fled to the west. However, he understood society. How something seemingly miniscule could ruin a woman’s reputation and tar her ability to seek out a proper husband.

  “I feel better,” he pronounced and began to rise only to be held down. Her hand took his lower arm to keep him in place.

  “We’ll wait just a bit longer. We’ve barely sat down. My back is thankful at this respite.”

  He’d not considered she was probably tired of many hours spent doing whatever chores she’d accomplished. “Of course. We can wait as long as you need.”

  On the bench with a beautiful woman beside him and a faithful dog at his feet, for the first time in years, Barrett felt all was well.

  By the time he walked Christina back and deposited her at the front door of the Withers’ home, he was more confused than ever.

  Three days. He had three days to make sure it was the right decision to let he
r go.

  CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  At Sunday service, Christina found herself seated between Olive and her housekeeper, Nan. Mrs. Wilkes hurried over and sat next to Nan. Although distracted by all the new faces, Christina couldn’t help but sense tension in the air. For whatever reason, the women seemed to share a secret that she was not privy to.

  A hush came over the people assembled thus far as an impeccably dressed elderly woman glided to the bench directly in front of them. The woman, who seemed ageless, stood at the end of the pew and studied the women assembled. She looked to Olive who smiled in return. “Hello, Mother Withers. Judge is due to arrive any minute now to sit with you.”

  The woman’s eyebrows rose. “I do not require someone to fawn over me at all times. I am perfectly able to sit during service without dying.”

  Mrs. Wilkes coughed and Christina heard a chuckle behind her.

  Somehow, Olive remained impassive. “Of course. However, I’d appreciate it if you save your son a space. By the way, this is Christina Mills, my new charge. She is from Philadelphia.” Olive whispered as her mother-in-law slid onto the pew to sit.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Christina smiled at the woman.

  By way of response, the woman turned to her with barely a lift at the corners of her mouth. “I see. Well, young lady, we must have tea immediately.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  As Judge arrived, the piano announced the first hymn and Olive remained at her mother-in-law’s ear. Both Nan and Mrs. Wilkes seemed to lean forward as if in expectation. Rather interesting.

  Perhaps, the plan was in motion for the news of her available status.

  It was a lively service, much more interesting than the church she attended with her parents in Philadelphia. While her father went every Sunday, Christina and her mother were only allowed to go once a month.

  “It is frivolous for you to go more often,” her father often chided. “You can do devotionals and such here at home.”

  Although a part of her hated to find herself confined to the house for yet another day, Christina didn’t miss the continuous droning of the priest.

  The service ended and Christina followed the group of women to the door. At the doorway, she was introduced to the pastor.

  They waited on the front lawn. Several men, who seemed delighted at the opportunity to speak to him, approached the mayor.

  Christina smiled and leaned into Mrs. Wilkes’ ear. “Your husband is admired and well liked. Must be a fair man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Mrs. Wilkes replied. “Judge is a very good man.”

  Olive stood just a few feet away with her mother-in-law and two women who stole glances in their directions.

  Nan looked to the sky and Mrs. Wilkes huffed. “Women can be the most curious bunch. Why don’t they just walk over and introduce themselves?” She shook her head and looked forward. “See there. Now men, gentlemen are very different.”

  A man approached. He was clean-shaven, but by his worn boots he was either a rancher or farmer by trade. His bright hazel eyes met Christina’s before looking to Mrs. Wilkes and then Nan. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Hello there, Jack,” Mrs. Wilkes replied. “How is Maggie doin’? The baby come yet?”

  “Not yet. Any day now, Mrs. Wilkes.” He looked to Christina. “Jack Henderson, Miss.”

  Christina’s heartbeat slowed. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Alexander Patterson. “Christina Mills, nice to make your acquaintance.”

  He spoke a bit more to Mrs. Wilkes about his brother’s very pregnant wife and then made his way to where Judge had gathered a small crowd.

  “Miss. May I introduce myself? I am John Carver, at your service.” A rather stiff man with a waxed mustache, which extended past his face, bent at the waist. Although the gesture was not a deep bow, it was enough to seem overly formal given the surroundings.

  Thankfully, after introductions, Mrs. Wilkes managed to draw her and Nan toward where Olive was standing with Judge’s mother.

  Rose Withers, Mrs. Wilkes informed Christina, was the pinnacle of Blanchard Creek society and the one woman every other woman in town both feared and revered.

  “How about we go to my home for tea? I find myself not in the mood for socializing today,” Rose informed them. Both Nan and Mrs. Wilkes’ eyebrows rose as if in disbelief until Olive glared at them.

  Although tea was delightful, Christina could not help the feeling something was being left unsaid. For whatever reason, she suspected it had to do with her.

  So many men introducing themselves after church had seemed overly strange. Yes, women were scarce in Blanchard Creek, yet as she traversed between the Withers’ home to Mrs. Wilkes’, she’d rarely been approached.

  On her return after using the facilities, Christina hesitated next to a table. Upon it was a beautiful embroidered cloth. The picture of her mother sewing formed and it made tears spring to her eyes. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d sat next to her learning to embroider. Later, as the years passed and her father became more miserly, they’d stopped the pastime.

  “I gave him three days to think about it. Why, it makes no sense to me that he’d not want to marry Christina.”

  At hearing Olive’s statement, Christina was torn as to whether or not to make her presence known. Her body froze, refusing to move at the knowledge they knew who her intended was.

  “Barrett is an honorable man. I will ensure my baby makes the right decision. I’m sure he has a reason,” Mrs. Wilkes replied.

  Barrett? What were they talking about? Perhaps she’d misheard.

  “I do believe we best speak of something else before she returns,” Rose Withers said. “Let’s discuss the upcoming holidays.”

  When Christina entered the room, they hesitated for a moment but then began to discuss in earnest the plans for a Christmas service followed by a grand meal at the church hall. Christina could barely keep track of the conversations, her mind going back to what she’d overheard.

  Barrett was the man she’d written to.

  He planned to turn her down.

  An hour later, as they made to leave, Rose Withers pulled Christina aside. The older woman’s keen eyes met hers. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small, embroidered pouch. “Take this. You will know the appropriate time to use it.” She pressed it into her hand. “Place it under your pillow and when the right moment comes, you will know it’s meant to be. Take one berry and eat it.”

  “What is it?” Christina did not understand one word the woman said.

  “A sprig from the kissing bough, of course.” Rose’s eyes sparkled. “It’s magical. Go along now.” She rounded her and went to the other women. “Have a good afternoon, ladies. Now, I have things to attend to.”

  Properly dismissed, Christina and the others walked out into the brisk afternoon.

  Finally, after parting ways from Mrs. Wilkes, she and Olive continued home with Nan. “I overheard,” Christina told Olive. “What is Barrett’s full name?”

  “Oh dear, I am so sorry,” Olive looked to her. “I had hoped to keep you from knowing. His full name is Alexander Barrett Patterson.”

  Tears threatened at the knowledge she was to be left without recourse but to either find a new prospective husband or contact Lady Price and move. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t continue to take advantage of your hospitality.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now, dear.” Olive slipped her arm through hers. “There is much you don’t know. It is not final, as yet. Give it time.”

  When they arrived at the Withers’ home, Judge stood proudly next to a trunk in the entrance. Christina gasped in surprise. Her belongings had arrived. She hugged the older man in gratitude and Nan helped her carry it to her room.

  Together they unpacked her three dresses and few belongings. Thankfully Olive had given her two dresses, so she’d a full wardrobe now for the winter.

  In her bedroom that night, sh
e untied the small pouch and emptied the wilted sprig, which had three berries on it, onto her palm. Magical was not how she’d describe it. Yet something about it gave her peace, so she obeyed Rose Withers’ instructions and slipped the sprig back into the pouch and placed it under her pillow.

  In the trunk was the picture she’d taken from Philadelphia. Christina could not bring herself to look upon it now.

  The next day, although her heart was heavy, Christina felt surprisingly rested. The sun filtered through soft clouds, which helped lift her spirits just a bit.

  Upon arriving at Mrs. Wilkes’, she had to round a wagon to go inside. Mrs. Wilkes greeted her with hurried motions to follow her inside where Jack Henderson stood with his hat in hand.

  “I’m goin’ to go see about Maggie Henderson. The baby is comin’. I’ll leave you and Laddie to see about feedin’ the folks today.” She turned to Jack. “Come on now, honey. We don't have time to waste.”

  The day progressed quickly as Christina and Laddie cooked, served and cleaned up both the dining room and the kitchen. It was late in the day when Christina finally had time to see about cleaning up the two rooms Mrs. Wilkes rented out.

  She opened the windows to air out the bedrooms and then began the tasks of shaking the bedding out and ensuring the rooms were swept thoroughly. With washbasins and pitchers loaded in her arms, she traversed the stairs with care only to come to an abrupt stop finding Barrett in the kitchen.

  “Good evening.” His eyes met hers.

  Her heart thudded and her stomach flipped.

  He’d come to let her know of his decision.

  CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The woman took his breath away. Something seemed different about Christina this day. Perhaps it was the dimness that came from the lowering sun or it could be that he’d come to inform her of his decision to not marry her. Or it was possible he was affected by the longing in his chest protesting what he planned to do.