by Amanda Cabot
He would be.
Charlotte sipped a cup of tea while she watched David and Rose playing. Though Rose was entranced with the wooden top Mr. Yates had given her for Christmas, David’s favorite toy remained his ball. He was rarely more than a few feet from it and continued to insist on carrying it to bed.
“Look, David.” Rose put his hand on the top so he could feel it moving. “Spin.”
Rose was so excited by their neighbor’s gift that she hadn’t protested when Gwen left to dine with Warren at the InterOcean, wearing the midnight blue gown that Charlotte had altered by adding a lace fichu to make it more suitable for dinner at the hotel. Gwen’s invitation was the reason she and Charlotte had held their Christmas dinner yesterday. Though he’d protested that he didn’t mind being alone, Charlotte had been adamant that Mr. Yates join them for both dinner yesterday and breakfast and an exchange of gifts this morning. Now he and Gwen were gone, leaving Charlotte to entertain the children.
She took another sip of tea as Rose spun the top again. Though she’d probably lose interest soon, for the time being, Rose was having fun. Charlotte hoped Gwen was too. She’d been flushed with pleasure this morning as she’d donned the gown and the matching gloves that had been one of Charlotte’s Christmas gifts to her and had declared that she would be the best-dressed woman in Cheyenne. Charlotte sighed. It took so little to please Gwen, and yet she couldn’t help worrying about her friend, for she feared that in some ways Gwen was still innocent. She saw the best in everyone, whereas Charlotte was more realistic.
“Baw.” Apparently tired of playing with Rose’s top, David scrambled across the floor, searching for his toy.
“No, David! Play with me!” Rose shrieked her protest.
Five minutes later, after she’d convinced Rose that her doll would like to watch her spin the top, Charlotte drank the last of her now-cold tea.
She hoped—oh, how she hoped—that Warren wasn’t trifling with Gwen’s affections. There was no doubt that Gwen was infatuated, perhaps even in love, with the older attorney. Gwen believed he was the man she’d been searching for ever since Mike died, the one who would be a good father to Rose. Though Charlotte wished that were true, she couldn’t dismiss her concerns. She was unable to pinpoint the reason, but the fear that Warren was more like Jeffrey than Gwen realized niggled at her.
Perhaps that was why, though the sun was shining, making yesterday’s snow glisten like diamonds, Charlotte was unable to chase away her doldrums. It was surely that and not the fact that Barrett and Miriam’s betrothal was official. Charlotte had seen them sitting together at church last night. That might mean that the announcement had been made at the Taggerts’ party beforehand, but even if Miriam hadn’t received her ring until Christmas Day, by now her parents would have begun to tell friends, and soon, perhaps even Monday, Miriam would ask Charlotte to design her wedding gown.
She would do it, of course, and not simply because an order for a new, elaborate gown and a full trousseau would be good for her business. She would do it because Miriam was more than a customer; she was a friend. And that friend was in love.
Charlotte knew she ought to be happy about Miriam’s engagement, and yet she wasn’t. Just as she worried about Gwen, she worried about her other friends, Miriam and Barrett. They were both wonderful people, but try though she might, Charlotte could not picture them together. That was absurd! They were adults. They knew what they wanted, and they wanted each other. It was only Charlotte’s imagination that they would be happier with someone else.
She frowned, realizing that she needed a change of pace, a change of scenery, anything to take her mind off Barrett and Miriam.
“I think we should take a walk,” Charlotte announced to the children as she rose. “What do you two think?”
“Yes!” Rose, her disposition once again as sunny as her mother’s, clapped her hands. “I pull wagon. David ride.”
He wrinkled his little nose. “Walk.”
If only he could. But he still refused to try. Though he’d shrugged off other minor injuries, David seemed to remember the day he’d bloodied his nose attempting to walk. “We’ll take the wagon,” Charlotte said firmly. “Now, let’s get you dressed.”
When they were bundled into their winter clothes and David was seated in the wagon, Charlotte decided to head east on 18th Street. She would not—she absolutely would not—pass by Barrett’s house, for there could be festivities in progress there. Seeing the Taggerts’ carriage hitched in front would only cause her to worry about the wisdom of Miriam and Barrett’s engagement. Monday would be soon enough for that.
“Cold.” Rose jumped up and down as they crossed Ferguson.
Yes, it was, but the day was also beautiful. A few white clouds drifted across a sky that was as deep a blue as Barrett’s eyes. Charlotte inhaled deeply as she tried to corral her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about Barrett, his beautiful blue eyes, or his upcoming marriage. Nothing was gained by that. Instead, she focused her attention on the children. This was Christmas Day, a day that ought to be special for them. They’d had a fancier than normal breakfast and gifts, and now . . . Charlotte wished she had a horse and carriage. If she did, she could take David and Rose to City Park. The park was lovely at any time, but frosted with snow, it would be spectacular. Unfortunately, it was too far for Rose to walk and farther than Charlotte could pull the wagon with both children in it. They’d have to stay closer to home.
Charlotte smiled as they passed her church. Though David would not recall it, last night’s service was etched in her memory. The church had been filled with people, but—more than that—it had been filled with the wonder of a love that exceeded human understanding. What a joyous night it had been.
A sudden tug on her skirt brought Charlotte back to the present. “Horse!” Though the street was unusually quiet, Rose jumped up and down as she pointed toward a horse and carriage stopped midblock at the exclusive townhomes called Maple Terrace. “Horse!” Rose had become fascinated with all things equine, and had Charlotte not snagged her coat, she would have run toward it, heedless of the danger of passing too close to those huge hoofs.
As the driver dismounted, looping the reins over the hitching post, Charlotte recognized him. Barrett! Blood drained from her face, and her hands grew clammy inside their gloves. She didn’t understand why he was here. Surely he and Miriam should be celebrating their betrothal with friends.
“Charlotte.” It wasn’t her imagination. Barrett was smiling as if he were delighted to see her. Though she found herself unable to move, he lengthened his stride until he reached her. “I didn’t expect to see you out today.” Still smiling, he greeted Rose and David. “Where’s Gwen? I hope she’s not ill.”
“Not at all. She’s at the InterOcean, having dinner with Warren.”
Though Barrett nodded, he appeared surprised by the news, and the speculative expression she saw in his eyes made Charlotte wonder whether Barrett had the same reservations about Warren’s apparent courtship of Gwen that she did.
“I see.” The corners of his lips twisted upward, making Charlotte wonder if he’d somehow read her thoughts. Of course not. “I was on my way to visit Richard. He lives here,” Barrett said with a glance at Maple Terrace. “But he can wait. Would you and the children like to take a ride?”
Though he’d spoken softly, Rose’s sharp ears heard the critical word. “Ride!” she cried. “I ride horse!” She began to scamper toward the buggy. This time it was Barrett who restrained her. Though the gelding appeared docile, Charlotte was grateful that Barrett was taking no chances.
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “My horse, Midnight, has to pull the carriage. He couldn’t carry a big girl like you too.”
Apparently mollified by being called a big girl, Rose tugged on David’s wagon. “You ride,” she told him.
Barrett chuckled as David began to clap his hands. “It seems that the children haven’t given you much choice. I probably should have spelled the wor
d.”
He was standing close enough that Charlotte could smell the scent of bay rum that clung to him. Other men wore bay rum. Even Mr. Yates did. But it never tantalized her senses the way Barrett’s did. Charlotte cleared her throat, wishing she could settle her thoughts as easily.
“A ride sounds wonderful, but what will I do with David’s wagon?”
“That’s no problem. I can fit it in the back. Come on, big boy.” Barrett lifted David out of the wagon and placed him in Charlotte’s arms.
David squirmed and turned his head toward Barrett. “Bowl,” he shouted. “Bowl.”
Barrett, who was securing the wagon in the back of the buggy, turned, a smile lighting his face. “Is he still playing that?”
Charlotte shook her head as she tried to restrain her son. “It’s the strangest thing. Gwen and I arrange the blocks the way you did. Even Rose helps. But no matter what we do, David won’t bowl. I don’t understand.”
“You’re right. That is strange.”
David twisted, stretching his arms toward Barrett. “Bowl,” he announced. “Bowl.”
“It looks as if he’s ready now.”
Barrett helped Charlotte climb into the carriage. Once there, she settled David on one side of her, Rose on the other while she waited for Barrett. “Perhaps David thinks it’s your game. That would explain why he won’t play with anyone else.”
“Should I be flattered?” Barrett’s expression said he thought otherwise.
“I don’t understand it. Gwen, Mr. Yates, and I have all given him toys, but he’s not attached to them the way he is to your ball.” Perhaps that was something her son had inherited from her, a foolish and inexplicable attachment to Barrett Landry.
As if in response to her thoughts, David nestled closer to Barrett. “Bowl,” he said, his little hands moving as if to roll a ball across the floor.
“Maybe later.” Barrett raised an eyebrow as he looked at Charlotte. “What do you think about a drive in City Park?”
Perhaps she should refuse. The park was such a public place that they were sure to be seen, and if they were, people would wonder why Barrett was with her and not Miriam. She ought to refuse, and yet she did not, for Rose and David would enjoy the ride. And, if she were being totally honest, so would she.
“Are you sure you’re not a mind reader?” Charlotte didn’t try to hide her pleasure. “Just before I saw you, I was thinking about how wonderful it would be if I had a carriage and could take the children to the park.”
Doffing his hat, Barrett grinned. “Your wish is my command, fair lady.”
“You need hat. It’s cold,” Rose chided.
“You’re right, little one.”
“I not little.”
As Barrett chuckled, his gaze met Charlotte’s, and for a second she could hardly breathe. He looked at her as if she were more than a friend. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t be, for Barrett was going to marry Miriam and possibly become a senator, while she was going to live a quiet life, trying to teach David everything he needed to learn. Charlotte swallowed deeply. She and Barrett were friends. Just friends. And there was nothing unseemly about friends riding together, especially when accompanied by two children. Wrapping an arm around each child, she settled back on the seat, determined to enjoy the simple pleasure of a drive through the park.
It was even better than Charlotte had imagined. When Rose oohed and aahed over the snow that still blanketed the shrubs, Barrett stopped the carriage. As Rose and Charlotte strolled along one of the paths, he lifted David into his arms and carried him to a bush. “Snow,” Barrett said as he removed one of the boy’s mittens. “Snow on bushes.” Carefully, he guided David’s hand to the shrub, letting him feel the texture and size. And then he raised him up so that he could touch the top and experience the softness of the snow. “Snow,” Barrett repeated. David said nothing, but the grin on his face as Barrett chafed his hand and replaced the mitten told Charlotte he had enjoyed his time in the park.
When they were back in the carriage, Barrett turned to Charlotte. “Might I suggest another pot of c-o-c-o-a? Mrs. Melnor and Mr. Bradley would be pleased to have guests again.”
“After cooking and serving Christmas dinner?”
Barrett nodded. “You’ve met them. You know they enjoy having children in the house.”
“But isn’t there somewhere else you need to be?” Something must have taken him to Richard’s house, and even if that wasn’t pressing, surely he should be spending the day with his new fiancée. When Charlotte had accepted Jeffrey’s proposal, he had taken her around West Point, introducing her to everyone he knew. It had been an almost magical day, sharing the news of their love with others. But Barrett had not so much as mentioned Miriam. Why not?
“I have nothing planned this afternoon,” he said as he turned the carriage onto Ferguson. “Miriam and her parents left an hour ago, and my meeting with Richard can wait until tomorrow. Besides, if you come to my house, you’ll save me a trip.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
When they entered the house, as Barrett had predicted, Mr. Bradley came as close to smiling as Charlotte imagined he ever did, and Mrs. Melnor insisted that Charlotte sample her plum pudding. “The children won’t like the pudding,” she said, “but I can bake some cookies for them.” And though Charlotte protested, Mrs. Melnor would not be dissuaded.
While they waited for the cookies and hot chocolate to be prepared, Barrett led them into the parlor. A small but exquisitely decorated tree stood in one corner, several open boxes and a bag filled with oddly shaped items beneath it. Barrett reached for the bag. “This is the trip you’re saving me. I had planned to deliver it later today, but now is better.”
The children thought so. Rose was enchanted with her new doll, and David seemed intrigued by the wooden animals Barrett gave him. He sat contentedly on the floor, turning each one over in his hand, as if trying to learn the shapes.
Barrett pulled out a box whose distinctive color left no doubt that it had come from Mr. Ellis’s shop. “The candy is for Gwen, although I imagine she’ll share it with all of you.” Barrett explained that this was Mr. Ellis’s special holiday assortment. “I was going to buy a box for you, but I found something I thought you’d like better.” He handed Charlotte a package that could only contain a book.
“Thank you, Barrett, but I’m feeling overwhelmed.” She had accepted the first box of candy and David’s ball as part of Barrett’s apology, but she had not expected anything else, and she most assuredly had not expected him to buy Christmas presents for four people who were neither family nor close friends.
Barrett shrugged as if the gifts were insignificant. “One thing led to another. I’d already ordered the candy and your gift. Then last month I was in the Union Mercantile with Harrison. When I spotted the animals, I thought of David, and once I bought those, I knew I couldn’t neglect Rose.” He wrinkled his nose. “She was the biggest challenge. You’d think that after working in my family’s mercantile, I’d be better at this, but I don’t know much about little girls. It was Harrison who suggested the doll.”
The happiness that had filled Charlotte’s heart when she’d seen David’s delight over his toy animals overflowed, suffusing her with its warmth. It might be insignificant to others, but the fact that the presents were not last-minute purchases, that Barrett had thought of her son so much in advance, was an even greater gift than the animals themselves. Barrett’s thoughtfulness reminded Charlotte of her childhood. Though money was invariably scarce, the family planned their Christmas celebration months in advance. Gifts were often simple and handmade, but they always reflected both the giver and the recipient, and so they were cherished long after Christmas Day.
Blinking away the tears that threatened to fall, Charlotte smiled at Barrett. “I don’t know how to thank you for making this such a special day.”
Though a muscle in his cheek twitched, his expression was inscrutable. “You might wan
t to open your gift,” he suggested.
“I love books,” Charlotte said as she untied the ribbon. “You probably expected that, since you know I was once a teacher, but it started way before then.”
“That night at the opera house, you told me books were your best friends as a child.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened at the realization that Barrett had recalled the details of their conversation. It was true that she remembered almost everything they’d discussed that evening, but she hadn’t expected him to.
“You also mentioned being ill,” he continued. “That must have been difficult. Children—at least my brothers and I—like to be active.” He rubbed the bump on his nose.
She laid her gift on her lap, more interested in learning about Barrett’s childhood than in unwrapping the book. “Is that how you broke your nose?”
Barrett shook his head. “I was small for my age, the perfect target for bullies. A couple of them caught me after school one day and decided to punch my face. The next thing I knew, I had a broken nose. The worst part is that my brothers had to come to my rescue. They never let me forget that I was the little one.”
“I was the biggest one, but it wasn’t always easy,” Charlotte said softly.
“Because you were ill and confined to bed.” He made it a statement rather than a question.
She shook her head. “That was hard enough, but what I hated most was the aftermath. I was used to being in charge of my sisters, but after I was ill, everyone thought I needed to be protected, so they coddled me. I wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things that normal children did, because the doctor had warned that I’d always be weak.”
“You don’t appear weak now.” Barrett’s gaze was approving, and it warmed Charlotte’s heart.
“I’m as healthy as can be.” She looked down at her son. “Now it’s David who needs protecting. I worry about his future.”
His smile extending all the way to his eyes, Barrett gestured toward the package in Charlotte’s lap. “You might want to open it.”