by Annie Boone
Father was laughing at one of Peter’s comments. Peter had a way of saying things that sounded flippant at first and then, after a pause, sounded very wise. Father appreciated the saddle that Harley had bought for his Christmas present. Mother’s green eyes had been enormous when she opened the hatbox to find the chic French hat inside, in a shade of blue that matched the warm cloak that had also been her present. Clara had been so excited to open her own hatbox that she had not even minded the fact that Peter was not yet a rich man with a thriving silver mine.
Minnie had tried on her hat right then and there, Gavin helping her with the hatpins while everyone laughed at his fumbling efforts to serve duty as a lady’s maid. Oakley had laughed too, at the sight, and had not balked when Mother put her own hat on top of Oakley’s blonde head. “You see,” Mother had said, “we have the same color of hair. This is a good color for us.”
She had removed the hat quickly enough so that Oakley would only, perhaps, be tantalized by the possibilities that feminine clothing offered. It was a beginning. Mother would be present and there was no one, Hazel thought, who could present a better model of what it meant to be a lady than Betsy Ellis.
The daughters had encouraged their parents and husbands to go into the parlor to become acquainted while they cleaned up after the meal. Oakley stayed with them, putting away the dishes as Minnie dried them, while Clara washed and Hazel cleared the table. Later, there would be sweets that Costanza had baked. But before that, there would be music.
When the sisters and Oakley, their kitchen work finished, went to the parlor, conversation was flowing smoothly. Father was asking many questions and Mother was turning his curiosity into conversation. But when the daughters entered the room, Mother rose. Immediately, the gentlemen did the same, but Mother waved them back into their seats.
“It is our custom,” she explained as she walked to the piano, “to celebrate Christmas with church, with gifts, and with food. As we have done today, thanks to your hospitality and your presence.” She looked to Harley and smiled.
He returned her smile and nodded.
Mother continued as she had more gratitude to express on this joyous Christmas day. “You have welcomed strangers into your midst and today there is room at this inn. My husband and I thank you for all that you have given us, and for what you give to our daughters. They are more precious to us than gold. To be here, with them and now with the rest of you who are part of our family means more than mere words can convey. To share our holiday traditions with you is a very special gift. And we will share this tradition with you.”
She sat down on the piano bench. Her daughters gathered around the piano. Hazel beckoned to Oakley, who hesitantly came forward, not at all certain that she belonged in this new circle, another one it seemed, like wearing hats, which was a province of the female sex.
Betsy opened the sheet music and touched a key on the piano. The daughters, responding to the familiar note, began to sing and Oakley, who had been practicing with Hazel, joined them.
Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o’er the plains,
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains.
Gloria in excelsis Deo!
The notes from the fingers on the piano keys were instinctive and knowing, a reunion with the instrument. The voices were pure as the ladies sang from their hearts. The men listened and no audience could have been more rapt or more attentive as the singing continued.
It was not Boston. There were no chandeliers and no boxes from the jeweler under the tree. However, there was a present remaining to be opened by Oakley. It read to Oakley Wyatt, from Father and Mother.
Hazel’s heart sang with the knowledge that she now had a daughter. And she had a loving husband. The road to love had been winding and heart wrenching at times. Every step had been worth it to get to this place today.
She glanced at Oakley and couldn’t contain her smile as she watch the girl laugh with Betsy. Then she looked at her husband and a surge of emotion took over her heart and soul. He was just what she needed. God had known what He was doing, after all.
Unable to contain herself a moment longer, she went to Harley and leaned into him. “Merry Christmas, my love. Thank you for this most wonderful give of family at Christmas. You’ve given me joy I’ve never known.”
He smiled at her and pulled her closer. “Merry Christmas to you, my beautiful wife. I’m thankful for your sweet spirit. You fill my days with all that is good. Never forget how much I love you.”
As her heart hit the highest notes, she knew this was a Christmas memory she’d cherish forever.
Read the Entire Home For Christmas Series!
Alice’s Arranged Marriage by Joyce Alec
Mistletoe Magic by Rose Pearson
Minne’s Mail Order Joy by Bethany Rose
Hazel’s Mail Order Joy by Annie Boone
Clara’s Mail Order Joy by Natalie Dean
Hannah’s Holiday Wish by Sophie Mays
Her Second Chance Cowboy Billionaire Christmas Secret by Hanna Hart
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About Annie Boone
Bestselling author Annie Boone admits that sweet love stories are a passion for her. She also enjoys history, so writing about the two together is the perfect combination for her. Her love of history was passed down by her father and cultivated by her husband.
Annie has always had a quiet story teller hiding inside and now she has the time to put those stories on paper and share them. Her hope is that her stories will entertain readers and her words will inspire the ones who need it the most. The Christian elements she includes often help remind her of her own faith as she writes.
Annie lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and the two most wonderful cats in the world. She loves to travel, cook for her family and friends, and watch as much sports as possible. She also loves to read. Of course!
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