by Willa Blair
He did as she suggested and stepped toward his father, hand extended, but the vet pulled him into a hug. Chauncy gave a warning yip, but they ignored him.
“I can’t believe this is real,” Coats said. “But I’m glad it is.” He pounded on Holt’s back for a moment, then let him go.
Holt cleared his throat, wishing there was some way he could wipe the dampness from his eyes without looking like a total wuss. “I am, too. I never expected to have a father in my life. I’m glad he turned out to be you. I’m really proud of what you did here tonight.” He reached down and patted Chauncy’s side. “What you do every day. I was going to tell you that no matter how this concluded, I wanted to help.”
Coats shook his head. “Look what you’ve made of yourself, despite the rough start you had thanks to Jenny’s aunt. I couldn’t be more proud if I’d raised you myself.” Then he turned to Caitlin. “And you, my Scottish friend, I wonder if all this would have happened if you hadn’t been mugged your first day in the village…”
“And ye hadna come to my rescue,” Caitlin answered, her thicker accent and the gravel in her voice revealing how choked up she was by the revelations. “We wouldna kenned what could ha’ been, and that would ha’ been a tragedy.”
“But it wasn’t,” Holt interjected, feeling giddy bubbles fizzing through his bloodstream. Was this happiness? If so, he had missed a lot in his life. “You weren’t hurt that day, and you made a friend who turned out to be important in my life. Even more, you stuck by your guns when I didn’t believe in you or your wild theories. You were right all along. I’m glad you didn’t let me push you around.”
“I’m a Scot. We don’t push very easily,” Caitlin told him with a smile.
His father laughed at that. “Holt, I think you’ve met your match.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open, but a warm sense of rightness filled him with those words. His father was right. He had met his match. He’d known for days and had begun the conversation about their future together before the outcry by the Christmas tree had broken the spell. He had more to do to convince Caitlin, but he never doubted for a moment that he would succeed.
****
Christmas day arrived with unfinished business between Holt and Caitlin. He entered his great-aunt’s closet with more than a little trepidation, but he was on a mission, one he’d nearly left until too late. In her jewelry box, he hoped to find a ring he could give Caitlin. Something important enough to show her how much she meant to him, but not so gaudy that she might not like it. If nothing else, a placeholder until she could select a ring herself. If she said yes.
The box’s small brass lock plate was locked, but he had the keyring he’d found hidden in a drawer, the same one that held the key they’d used to unlock the trunk in the attic—and a host of family secrets. This lock opened easily. He lifted the lid.
Ornate earrings and pearls filled the top drawer. Nothing interested him. The next drawer held marcasite jewelry, very old-fashioned. No. He opened the third drawer. Pay dirt. Rings filled it. The diamonds needed to be cleaned. He couldn’t judge their quality, but their cut was also old-fashioned. A sapphire encrusted band caught his eye, but right under it, he found a small yellow silk drawstring bag. He opened it carefully and spilled the contents into his palm. A large, clear, deep green, emerald-cut emerald set in yellow gold. Perfect. He dropped it back into its protective bag and locked the box.
Now to finish his preparations. He gave the ring to Mrs. Smith, then he went in search of Caitlin.
Weeks ago, when he found out about his inheritance, all he’d felt was dread. He never dreamed he could be as happy as Caitlin made him. Knowing she cared about him—not his wealth—meant everything. She had done her best to make his life better—often despite him.
He found her in the office, puttering with the catalog of his great-aunt’s belongings. “I thought you’d finished that,” he told her. “It’s Christmas, not a day to work.”
She pointed at the screen and shrugged. “I can never leave well enough alone. I thought of a more appealing way to describe some of the furniture, so here I am. What are you up to?”
He glanced out the window in time to see Mrs. Smith walking back toward the house. Holt gave Caitlin his best innocent, I’m not up to anything look. “Grab your coat and come with me?”
“Sure. Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Caitlin closed her laptop and left the room, giving him a quizzical glance as she passed him by and stepped out the door. He’d left his jacket in the foyer in case he talked her into going out with him. By the time he donned his, she was back, buttoning up her coat as she approached. “Okay, I’ve got my coat. Now where are we going?”
“Come with me.” Earlier Holt had realized the perfect place to pop the question. He led Caitlin to the old gazebo where Mrs. Smith had set up a table draped with a white cloth and covered with a tea service, a thermos, small cakes, and other sweets. Holt didn’t expect they’d enjoy any of it but figured it was good camouflage.
“It’s still a bit chilly out here for tea, don’t you think?”
“Really? A Scot concerned about the cold?” He gave her a disarming grin. When she rolled her eyes, he added, “I thought some hot tea would be just the thing to warm our first Christmas together while we enjoyed the day.”
“Um, okay.” Caitlin set about pouring tea. “You take yours black, aye?”
“And you take yours with milk and an ungodly amount of sugar, yes,” Holt replied with a grin. “Don’t forget a sweet or two.”
“Ha! Ye ken my weakness,” Caitlin answered, chuckling. Then she froze, tongs held a few inches above the serving plate. “Wait. What’s this?” She looked up at Holt, brow furrowed.
He knew exactly what she’d found in the middle of the tea cakes. He dropped to one knee and held out a hand. “That, my love, is a ring. A complete circle, a symbol of my infinitely deep feelings for you. I want you in my life forever, Caitlin. Will you marry me?”
She picked up the ring and held it out to him.
Holt’s heart plummeted, fearing that she was about to refuse him.
“I’ve never seen an emerald this big, Holt. I’m no’ used to your world. Your wealth.” She paused and swallowed. “Are ye sure I’m the lass for you?”
“As sure as I’ve ever been of anything, Caitlin. Say yes. Please say yes. If you don’t like that ring, you can pick out another one you do like. Or one for each finger.”
She made him wait. He wasn’t surprised, just fearful. She wasn’t going to make anything easy for him, but he loved that about her. She was her own woman, used to making her own decisions. While she thought, she glanced from him to the ring to him several times.
“ ’Tis a beauty, and I love it. But I love ye more, Holt Ridley. Yes. Aye, I’ll marry ye.”
He rose to meet her as she fell into his arms. “I’ve never been so happy,” he whispered to her. “I don’t know how.”
“But you’ll enjoy learning,” Caitlin told him. “I’ll teach you. I promise you that.”
****
Christmas night arrived, and Caitlin had to wrap tape around the shank of the emerald ring to make it fit her finger so she could wear it to their Christmas dinner celebration with Holt’s father and their friends. Holt promised they’d get it sized in town the next day. In the meantime, she refused to go without it.
Holt took his father aside when he first arrived. Tears filled her eyes to see them with their heads together, deep in conversation. They finally had the family neither thought to ever have. Both had a glint of tears in their eyes, though being manly, they refused to shed them. She didn’t care. She was thrilled to bring Holt a happy resolution to the misery of his childhood and the sorry history of his family.
Their friends arrived soon after. Alice looked wonderful in her red dress. This was the first time Caitlin had seen her out of her white baker’s jacket. She caught Holt’s father studying Alice and fought a grin.
Apparently he liked the way she looked, as well. Rachel was there, and high school friends of Holt’s, Jack and Anita from Holt’s favorite pizza parlor. The lawyer and estate’s executor, Mr. Thornton, evened out the number for the dinner table. Caitlin was especially pleased to see him. His presence was a measure of how Holt’s attitude had changed about the estate and everything in it.
The house was decorated beautifully. Caitlin and Holt had worked all day with Farrell to create a festive holiday mood. The dinner table was set for a feast. She looked around her, struggling to take in the changes a few event-filled weeks had wrought.
“Dinner is served,” Farrell eventually announced in his best butler imitation.
Everyone filed into the dining room and took their seats. Caitlin had made sure to seat Alice across from Holt’s father to make conversation easier. If they got to know each other, there might be another Christmas miracle.
Holt waited until everyone got settled, then addressed the table. “I have a few announcements to make before we eat.” He held out a hand for Caitlin.
She took his and rose, embarrassed, yet excited, knowing what he planned to say next.
“The first, in case you haven’t noticed,” he said, holding up her hand and turning it so the ring was visible to all, “is that Caitlin Paterson has agreed to become my wife.”
Whoops, cheers, and clapping greeted that announcement. Caitlin felt herself blush, heat rising from her chest to her cheeks as Holt pulled her to him and kissed her.
When their guests quieted down, and she had a chance to catch her breath, he added, “I’ve also made a decision about this estate that affects you all, and one I hope you will approve.”
Caitlin froze. If he hoped they’d approve, he must not plan to sell it. Or had he found a local buyer?
Holt gazed at Caitlin, then looked around the table. “I’m not going to sell it. I will turn it over to Doc Coats to create the canine rescue and training facility that is my father’s dream. Mrs. Smith and Farrell will stay on, of course, to help my father manage the estate.”
Caitlin noticed Mr. Thornton nod and realized Holt had cleared this with him, as executor of the estate, ahead of time.
“What do you mean, your father?” Alice asked, looking at Coats, who gave her a quirk of his lips.
“That’s my third happy announcement. Due almost entirely to Caitlin’s dogged persistence, and nothing could be more appropriate than that term,” he added and favored her with a grin, “Jim Coats and I have discovered—and proven via DNA test—that he is the father I never knew. And I am the son he never knew he had.” He raised a hand to silence the gasps and clapping that greeted his announcement. “It’s a long story that we’ll share after dinner. After all her hard work, I don’t want to keep Mrs. Smith’s wonderful meal waiting.”
Mrs. Smith and Farrell brought out the soup course, then salad, and so on, until no one could eat another bite. Holt stood and called for the chef. When she appeared, he announced. “Thank you, Mrs. Smith. You’ve outdone yourself.”
The lady in question dimpled and quit the room to applause.
“Let’s adjourn to the front room for dessert and drinks,” Holt invited.
Caitlin was pleased to see Holt’s father take Alice’s arm and escort her from the table. Her plan seemed to be working. In the front room, she took Holt aside for a moment. “I love what you’re doing with the estate. Doc Coats will make good use of it. And how wonderful that Farrell and Mrs. Smith will be able to stay on and take care of it. I’m so glad everything has worked out so well.”
“Everything has worked out perfectly,” he told her. “Especially you.” He lifted her hand and ran his thumb over the emerald ring. “I just hope you’re not planning on a long engagement,” he told her with a wicked grin.
“Nay, I’m not. But let’s talk about that later. Our guests are watching us.”
Holt kissed her. “Let them watch,” he said, then wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again.
Caitlin ignored the laughter and clapping, lost in the feel of Holt’s lips on hers. When he broke the kiss, she pulled him down for another, then stepped out of his arms and turned to their guests. And family. “We’re so happy you’re here. Holt will pour whatever you’d like, then we’ll tell all.”
Doc Coats was grinning, but not at her. His gaze was on Alice, who shared a small settee with him. Alice was laughing, then her expression sobered to a quizzical smile as he picked up her hand.
Caitlin glanced at Holt to see if he noticed. His smile told her he had. Well then, two Christmas miracles coming right up. With dessert, she thought, as Mrs. Smith wheeled in a cart loaded with bite-sized sweets and slim bottles of dessert wines. Could this evening get any better?
Later, after Caitlin overheard Doc Coats and Alice making a date for the next evening, their guests—and family—departed. Holt took Caitlin in his arms. “What a Christmas for miracles. I feel like the three magi dropped by and each left a wonderful surprise, you being the best of all.”
“Not finding your father?”
“As pleased as I am about that, to borrow another reference from literature, he is…well, not the ghost of my past, but he is my past. Tonight is our present, and you, my lovely Caitlin, are my future.”
Epilogue
“Ah, Scotland,” Caitlin exulted, taking a deep breath as they exited the terminal. Holt’s pilot had brought them to Glasgow in time for an early morning landing. The sun peeked through broken clouds, and the air was crisp if slightly tinged with the scent of jet fuel.
“Glad to be back?” Holt nodded to a driver holding a sign with his name on it and handed over their luggage.
After he helped Caitlin into the waiting limo, she smiled. “I am. But happiest to be here with ye. I can’t wait to show ye around.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t make it for Hogmanay. You were looking forward to it.”
Caitlin shrugged. “You had too much to do before you could leave, and I didn't want to go without you. We’ll plan to be here next year.” She grinned and added, “I had enough excitement over the holiday in New York to satisfy me.”
She pointed out some sights as they drove away from the airport’s vicinity, then pulled out her phone. “I almost forgot to text Ian we’re on the way.”
Holt put a hand on her forearm. “Wait. Before you do that, I have a question. I know you planned for this trip to go a certain way…”
Caitlin’s stomach clenched. Was Holt getting cold feet? Why now and not before they flew to Scotland? “What do you mean?”
“Visiting your cousin, touring around.” He held up a hand. “I want to do all of that, but first, I have something else in mind.” He took her hands in his larger ones. “Let’s not wait. I want to marry you—right away. As soon as we can arrange it. Then we’ll travel as you planned, and we’ll enjoy the journey even more.”
“Do ye mean it? I thought ye’d want to meet my family first, to see where I come from.”
“You know I do. But none of that will change how I feel about you. And you did say you wanted a short engagement.” His gaze turned molten. “Let’s make the arrangements as soon as we can.”
Elation made Caitlin’s blood sizzle. “Let’s. Nothing would make me happier.”
Holt kissed her hands, and they settled back to enjoy the scenery. As they drove deeper into the Highlands and familiar landmarks appeared, Caitlin’s excitement mounted. Once they turned into the long drive leading to Cairn Dubh, she told Holt, “We’re here.”
Ian, Lara, and the twins greeted them at the door. Lara hugged her, saying, “I was just headed out to take the twins to school, but I’ll be back before you know it. I made coffee,” she added with a smile for Holt. “But if you’d rather have tea, Caitlin knows where everything is.”
Caitlin gave Lara and the twins another hug and let them go on their way. A few minutes later, she and Holt found themselves settled in the kitchen with Ian and coffee.
“The furnishings from H
olt's estate have been here for a month,” she said after a restorative sip. “Have you noticed anything different?” Along with the cursed cabinet, they’d shipped other pieces Caitlin thought might have come from the same household, owing to their similar construction and condition. Ian had taken charge of them until Caitlin could arrive to make appropriate arrangements for them.
“Nothing to report,” Ian told her. “We’ve noticed nothing unusual since they arrived.”
“Nothing more unusual than the usual for Cairn Dubh, ye mean.” Caitlin felt tension ease out of her that she hadn't realized she carried.
“Aye. Fergus, our wee beastie seems unconcerned. The twins would have said something. They’re more attuned to him than the grown-ups.”
“That’s good, aye, that Fergus is calm about it all?” Of course, it was.
“As near as I can tell, aye, it is.” Ian shrugged, then regarded Holt steadily.
Holt nodded.
“So ye ken about Fergus.”
“Caitlin has told me a little about him.”
That seemed to be what Ian wanted to hear. “You’ve got an itinerary worked out, then?” he asked, clearly ready to change the subject.
Caitlin nodded, then glanced at Holt to make sure he didn't object. “We’d planned on a few days here to get settled and get over jet lag, then on to Edinburgh. Holt has never been to Scotland, so I’ve much to show him. We’ll make our way to Inverness from there where I hope to work out a deal with the Highland museum to display the pieces and do a story about the curse.” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “We’d planned to return here in about a fortnight for the wedding, but Holt…”
“Has other ideas,” Holt interrupted, taking her hand. “I want us to marry as soon as possible.”
Ian grinned. “An eager bridegroom. Aye, well, then, ye’ll need Lara to help ye with that. She should be back soon after half nine.”
“I was going to wait until tonight to spring this on ye,” Caitlin agreed, “but I’ll tell her when she gets back. She and I can work out what needs to be done over tea and scones.”