"A sled!” Lori breathed, her voice muffled by several layers of scarves Marla had wrapped around her head.
There were ooohs and aaahs from the children. Jo grinned happily. Cole couldn't resist a smile. Brett rushed to look inside, exclaiming over the bench seats built into the sides of the sleigh.
"All aboard!” Elliot helped them in one by one, then took a seat beside Natalie. Noah commandeered the reins and away they went, sliding easily over the freshly packed snow.
"Where are we going?” Natalie asked over the rush of the wind and snow. She allowed Elliot to take her hand, thinking how bittersweet it was sitting beside him on her first sleigh ride. Almost as if ... she shook the thought away.
"You'll find out,” came his mysterious reply.
To her surprise, Noah pulled the sleigh to a stop in front of the Mercantile store. One glance at Marla sitting opposite her told Natalie that her friend was just as puzzled as she was.
Trying to catch Elliot's eye, she stepped from the sleigh, her gaze drawn to a light in the window next to the Mercantile. She frowned, looking once again at Marla, who shrugged.
"Close your eyes,” Elliot commanded. When she did, he led her forward.
All around her, she could hear anxious giggles and shushed whispers. Finally, all was quiet. She knew she had stepped into a room because the wind and snow no longer stung her cheeks.
"You can open your eyes now."
It was Elliot again. Perversely, she didn't want to. She was deathly afraid of what she would find.
"Natalie..."
On a sigh, she lifted her damp lashes. Her mouth fell open.
The room, she realized immediately, was filled with toys. Elegant dolls dressed in the latest fashions, rocking horses she recognized as Brett's excellent work, and doll houses, literally a dozen doll houses in various forms of completion strategically placed around the room. One held center stage on a platform.
She turned slowly, catching sight of Marla's amazed expression. So Marla hadn't known, but she could tell by their happy faces that the children had—even Lori. “What is all of this?” And because she suspected Elliot was responsible, she directed her shaky question at him.
"The shop belongs to you, Natalie. Of course, Noah here expects a small rent to be paid every month."
"I don't ... understand. Why? How?"
"Warren requested a dozen more doll houses and sent along a substantial advance.” Elliot hesitated. “I invested the money instead of giving it to you. This way I had a solid plan to present to Mr. McCormick when I asked him to loan you the money to buy Ivy House."
Her throat was dry. Everyone waited for her reaction, she realized, staring at their silent, expectant faces. “And did he? Loan you the money?"
"Yes.” He put his hands in his pockets and came closer. “I paid Carnagie and signed Ivy House over to you.” He flashed a quick anxious grin at her stunned expression. “Now you're the one in debt, as you have to pay the bank. Mr. McCormick and I worked out a fair payment plan we think you can handle."
She shook her head, many unanswered questions buzzing in her head. She gestured to the doll houses. “But how did you—when did you—"
"I think I can answer that,” Marla said tartly, but her eyes glowed with love and pride when she looked at her husband. “Remember I told you they'd been disappearing at night? They weren't doing inventory, just as I suspected. On the night I followed them, Hickory must have warned them I was coming."
Elliot nodded an affirmative. “And Cole and Brett didn't return to the Hacket farm at night,” he added. “They bunked here. The twelve doll houses Warren requested are finished—shipped, in fact. These are your inventory."
"We put up the cow bells so's we'd know you were comin’ up the stairs,” Brett said. “We didn't want you to catch us measurin’ and cuttin’ out the lumber.” He jabbed a proud finger at his chest. “The bells was my idea."
"Oh.” Natalie didn't know what to say. She knew she should be delirious, but she was numb at the moment. So much wonderful news to take in at one time.
She wasn't going to lose the orphanage, and the doll houses had become the success she'd dreamed.
Cole touched her sleeve, his young face earnest. “If you don't mind, Natty, we'll stay with the Hackets. They need us.” He glanced at his brother, then back to her. “But they said we could work for you, that is if you want us too."
"As long as we get home in time to do the chores at night,” Brett added.
"I'd like to go ahead with my plans to work at the restaurant, too,” Jo announced shyly. “But if you don't mind, I'd rather live at Ivy House."
Lori hurled her bundled form at Natalie. “Me too."
Natalie's head whirled as everyone began to talk at once. Noah led Hickory to one of the rocking horses and settled him into the carved saddle. Elliot took Lori's hand and pointed to the doll house on display.
"It's yours. Merry Christmas, Lori."
Tears stung Natalie's eyes. She tore her gaze from the heartwarming sight of him presenting Lori with the doll house. Lori's cries of joy and astonishment mingled with the laughter and good wishes.
She felt as if she were suffocating.
She stumbled to the door and slipped outside, dragging in gulps of frigid, cleansing air.
It was all too much, the house, the shop, what they had all done for her. She didn't deserve any of it.
No, that wasn't what was bothering her. She didn't want it. What she wanted she couldn't have, and she was selfish, selfish, selfish. Sobs welled. Frantically, she pushed away from the wall and stumbled through the snow, her skirts tangling around her legs.
She fell face down in the powdery snow and lay there, gasping, the frigid air searing her lungs.
Elliot. She wanted Elliot. She wanted him more than she wanted Ivy House, more than she wanted her own successful business ... and God forgive her, more than she wanted the children.
Guilt racked her. Her tears mingled with the softly falling snow as she lay there. If only—
"Natalie."
She jumped, rising to her knees, then stumbling to her feet. Elliot stood watching her, his face cloaked by the night. If she couldn't see him, then he couldn't see her, she reasoned, swallowing a tell-tale hiccup. Wiping at her frozen face, she said, “I can't accept Ivy House."
"Why not?"
"I just can't. I—I don't want the responsibility—"
"Liar.” Snow crunched beneath his boots. His hands were surprisingly warm on her face. “You're the most responsible person I know, Natalie. The most warmhearted, generous, giving woman alive."
A sigh slipped through her lips at his words, but she shored the weak spot. “I don't want your pity, Elliot—"
"Pity?” He laughed and pressed his warm lips to hers. When he finally lifted his head, she saw that his eyes gleamed not with pity, but with desire.
"Try telling me the truth."
The truth? She began shaking her head. Oh, no, she couldn't tell him the truth—
His mouth crashed onto hers again; his hands slipped beneath her cloak and stroked her chilled flesh until it burned.
"The truth, Natalie,” he growled softly, nipping her bottom lip and nuzzling her cold nose. “I've got to know the truth."
She stilled as she caught the barest hint of desperation in his voice. “I'm so ashamed,” she whispered. “The truth is ... the truth is I'm selfish. Ivy House, the shop, the children being happy—it means nothing to me without you."
"Oh, God.” His mouth took hers again, this time with unrestrained hunger. “I've missed you—needed you—loved you and I've been going insane thinking—” He didn't finish, and she didn't care, because when he wasn't talking he was making her very, very happy.
Her heart was singing, her mouth responding.
He loved her.
Elliot loved her.
Suddenly, he tore his mouth away and pulled back, staring at her with such a solemn expression she felt a twist of fear.
&nbs
p; "Natalie, I've been offered a job at the bank as an investment advisor. It doesn't pay outrageously, but it's a start."
"Elliot, that's wonderful!"
"So you'll marry me?"
She stared at him, absorbing his love, her own commitment shining in her eyes. “Yes. Yes!"
"Of course, we'll keep Ivy House open,” he added.
"Yes."
"And the children will live with us—except for Brett and Cole, of their own choosing. They'll always have a home at Ivy House."
"Of—"
"Perfect, perfect, perfect!"
They whirled around at the sound of Marla's happy cry, followed by her vigorous clapping. She beamed at them as snow fell steadily all around them. “It's about time,” she declared.
Elliot and Natalie exchanged an amused glance before succumbing to the laughter.
[Back to Table of Contents]
EPILOGUE
"Open your gift, Marla.” Natalie grabbed Elliot's hand and squeezed, excitement turning her cheeks rosy and making her eyes sparkle. “Elliot, take your daughter so that Marla can open her gift."
But Marla wasn't interested in gifts; she was interested in the infant she held in her arms. Hard to imagine that a little less than a year ago, her own daughter had been this tiny. She glanced at the dainty toddler playing with Hickory on the rug before the fire. Lori sat near by on the sofa watching them with a subtle, but eagle eye.
In the corner of the parlor stood a huge, ugly Christmas tree decorated with a wild assortment of ornaments. Marla thought about their own perfect little tree and smiled.
Some things never changed.
"Okay. You can have the Ivy princess back, but only for a moment. I want to take advantage while Noel is distracted. She's so jealous of babies.” When Elliot had taken his daughter, she took the package from Natalie and pulled the ribbon.
Inside lay the music box she had given her many years ago.
Natalie spoke softly, her throat crowded with tears. “You said to keep it until I found a home of my own.” Her misty gaze lingered on Elliot and her daughter. “It took me a long time to realize that a house isn't a home until you share it with the ones you love."
Marla sniffed and wiped at her tears, meeting Natalie half-way in a fierce hug that made them both grunt. Pulling back, she grinned and spit on her hand.
Without hesitation, Natalie did the same.
They pressed their palms together and shook.
"Did you just—did I see—” Elliot sputtered, looking from one to the other as if he couldn't decide which one was more insane.
The women were saved from having to explain their little secret pact as someone knocked on the door.
"I'll get it.” Jo sailed in from the kitchen, smoothing the folds of her new dress and moving with a confidence that never failed to make Natalie proud. Jeb followed close behind.
They were to be married in the spring, much to everyone's satisfaction.
A moment later Jo entered the parlor with a young girl. The girl was dressed in an odd assortment of cast-off clothes and held a bundle protectively in her arms. The momentary silence was broken by a weak, pitiful squeak, followed by a thin squall.
Natalie felt a tingle in her breasts, the same feeling she got when Ivy cried in hunger. Following her instinct, she crossed the floor and took the bundle from the girl, swiftly unwrapping the filthy, damp material.
It was a baby, an infant, and didn't look much bigger than Ivy. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gazed down at the wizened little face. Tiny arms thrashed as if to condemn the world for this neglect. His lips were nearly blue with cold.
"Your brother?"
The young girl nodded, her eyes full of weary resignation. “Be much obliged if you'll take him off my hands. Can't take proper care of a youngin an I heard you did that sort of thing.” She stared at the baby as if she were reluctant to take her eyes from him. Her devotion was obvious. “Pa named him William—that was his name."
"What happened?” Natalie crooned and rocked the fussy baby in a automatic gesture. She thought her heart would break; the girl standing before her couldn't be more than twelve.
"My ma and pa got caught out in that last big snow storm. They never came home, so I figured they froze to death.” She nodded at the baby. “I fed him goat's milk until the goat died. Well, I'd best git goin'.” She wiped her eyes as if embarrassed to be caught crying, oblivious to the streak of dirt she left behind. “You'll take good care of him, won't ya?"
Natalie nodded, the tears clogging her throat preventing speech. The girl turned to leave, but Jo caught her arm. “You'll stay."
The girl drew herself up proudly. “That ain't necessary. I kin take care of myself."
Jo smiled. “So could I, but I stayed. It's a nice place to live.” Before the girl could protest, she added, “Welcome to Ivy House. What name do you go by?"
Everyone held their collective breaths as the girl hesitated and glanced slowly around the room, pausing on each compassionate face. Even Noel and Hickory had stopped their play to stare at the stranger. When the girl spotted the refreshment table piled high with cakes and cookies, she licked her lips. “Dorothy. My name is Dorothy."
Natalie turned with the babe in her arms and met Elliot's gaze across the room. They exchanged a long, loving glance that needed no words. With a slight nod, Elliot placed Ivy into Marla's waiting arms.
"I'll get dry clothing,” he said, his voice curiously gruff.
"I'll heat some water,” Jo flung over her shoulder, taking charge. “Jeb, would you mind starting a fire in the boys’ old bedroom? Lori, bring some extra blankets. Dorothy looks cold. Oh, and she might want a bite of something to eat."
"'bout froze my a—butt off out there,” Dorothy agreed, craning her neck to take another look at her brother. He was sucking greedily at Natalie's milk-laden breast, his hands clutching her softness, his hungry grunts bringing fresh tears to Dorothy's eyes.
Letting out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, Dorothy turned away, satisfied that William was in capable hands. She followed Jo upstairs, gaping at the strange sight of the cow bells laced along the banister.
The painful tightness in her chest began to ease with each step she took.
Ivy House.
She rubbed at her eyes and savored the name.
Her prayers had been answered.
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A word about the author...
Sheridon Smythe is the writing team of Sherrie Kelley and Donna Smith. Best friends for over thirty years, they have written five historical romances and several contemporary romances under this pseudonym. Sherrie lives in central Arkansas and has two children and four grandchildren. Donna lives in the bootheel of Missouri and has three children. Her son, Marcus, is currently serving our country. The team enjoys brainstorming together and entertaining their readers with stories they hope will stay with the reader long after they reach ‘the end'.
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Visit www.thewildrosepress.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
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