by Karen Kirst
The first half of the letter dealt with hotel business. The Golden Crowne hotel was not only going to be built, but her father stated clearly that Stuart would be given the task of overseeing its construction.
“Oh, Stuart, you must be thrilled. This is the first time Father has relinquished so much control. I can see why. You’ve proven you can do the job. I’m curious, though. Will you still be able to escort the children and me back to Philadelphia?”
“It depends. Keep reading.”
The next paragraph started with news that seemed too good to be true. Her skin tingled and turned to gooseflesh. “I can’t believe it! Father is eager to meet the children. He’s never said such a thing before. Pauline would be so happy.”
Stuart slid his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and gazed into the distance. Although he said nothing, the firm set of his jaw spoke volumes. The bad news was yet to come. Lavinia drew in a breath of the crisp mountain air and willed herself to keep reading.
At long last, I will have my heir. Lavinia has mentioned what a bright boy Alexander is, but I know remediation will be required after his experience out west. I’ve engaged a private tutor for him in Boston—far from the hostilities predicted to visit our besieged country soon—where I’ll send him shortly after he arrives. As soon as he’s of age, I’ll see that he’s admitted to one of the finest boarding schools.
She held the paper in hands that were shaking so badly she couldn’t focus on the remaining lines. “I can’t believe it. Why would Father have me bring Alex back only to send him away?”
“He has his reasons.”
“I see that, but tearing the children apart would break their hearts.” It would rend hers to watch it happen. She blinked several times to clear her watery vision and forced herself to finish the letter, the ache in her chest intensifying as she read.
I’ll have a governess ready to take charge of the children when your ship docks in New York. They will require a firm hand after the leniency they’ve been granted by my daughters. Pauline possessed a free spirit, and although Lavinia is more levelheaded than her sister was, she’s prone to sentimentality. I allowed my late wife to pamper our girls when they were young, resulting in outright rebellion when they were older, but I won’t make that mistake with my grandchildren. They will be taught to respect my authority, not flout it.
I wish you a pleasant journey, Stuart, and look forward to finalizing our plans for the Golden Crowne prior to your return to San Francisco.
Sincerely,
Paul Crowne
She shoved the paper at Stuart. “You’d best take this before I tear it to shreds.” She jumped up and paced, her breath coming in noisy puffs. “He’s maligned my sister for years. I kept quiet, but I can’t do that anymore. Pauline was a wonderful mother. She loved the children deeply and taught them the value of family. They might squabble every now and then, but they’re good and kind and respectful. They don’t need a firm hand. They need love and kindness and understanding.”
Stuart nodded. “And that’s what you’ve given them.”
“You’re right. I have. I’m going to see that the children get the loving care they deserve.” She stopped in front of Stuart and jabbed her fists into her hips. “And if that’s too sentimental for Father’s liking, well then, he’ll just have to deal with it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure, but I can’t take them back to Philadelphia. I know what it’s like to live life under his roof and his rule.” She plopped down on the rock, rested her elbows on her knees and held her chin in her hands. Lifting her head required more energy than she had.
Everything in her revolted at what she’d read. She’d spent years overlooking her father’s autocratic manner, even making excuses for it, but he’d gone too far this time. He might be expecting her to carry out his marching orders, but she refused to subject those precious children to his sharp tongue and barked commands.
“He can be demanding at times,” Stuart said, “but that drives those of us under him to achieve more than we might otherwise. I’m a case in point. I never imagined I’d be chosen to open a hotel for him.”
“Pushing his employees is one thing, but putting unrealistic demands on innocent children is simply unfair. I won’t be a party to it. If I have to, I’ll stay here in California, win my case and gain guardianship myself. That way Father would have no right to send Alex away.”
“What will you tell your father?”
“I have no idea. It won’t matter anyway. If he’s decided to claim Alex as his heir, he won’t tolerate me going against him.” Nothing she could say would change his mind. In all likelihood, he would disown her as he had Pauline.
Stuart rubbed a hand over his square jaw. “When I read the letter, I anticipated your reaction. I know how much the children mean to you. I also know what it’s like to stand up to your father, having watched others do so. That’s why I’ve come up with a possible solution.”
She straightened. “Really? What’s that?”
“You could stay here in California and marry me.”
Had she heard him correctly? “Did you say what I think you said?”
He nodded. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. If we were to wed, that would give you a stronger case. A judge or jury would look more favorably on a couple than a single woman.”
“That’s probably true, but if you join me in defying Father, you would be passing up the opportunity to oversee the construction of the Golden Crowne. How could you give that up?” And why would he?
“Not to sound boastful, but my experience working for your father has served me well. Others would like to gain from it. I’ve had two different groups of investors in San Francisco invite me to open hotels for them. The possibility of working for men who value my expertise is appealing.”
She could understand that. Even if her father respected Stuart, he wasn’t one to dole out appreciation or accolades. “But why marry me?”
“The group of investors whose offer I’m most interested in have had bad experiences with the single men out here. They’re apt to move on as soon as a better opportunity comes their way. The gentlemen want a family man and have given me until the end of the year to find a wife. If I must marry, I can’t think of anyone more suited. I realize you don’t have romantic feelings for me. Since I don’t have them for you either, this would be, to put it bluntly, a marriage of convenience. It’s not an ideal solution, but it could benefit us both.”
He looked so serious, so sincere. “You’re a fine man, Stuart, and you deserve a woman who loves you.”
“We might not be in love, but we get on well. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” He reached out as though to take her hand but pulled his back before making contact. His gaze locked with hers, his green eyes conveying both hope and uncertainty. “I hold you in high regard, Lavinia, and would do my best to be a good and faithful husband.”
She grabbed her muff and stuffed her hands inside. “I have no doubt of that, but…” How could she consider Stuart’s offer when she felt the way she did about Henry? If only he cared as much about her as she did him.
“If you refuse to honor your father’s wishes, I would imagine you’d lose his support. I could provide a good living for you and the children.”
The reality of her situation set Lavinia’s stomach to swirling. She intended to win the court case. When she did, she would need money to pay for food, lodging and everything else. Her funds wouldn’t last long, and then where would she be?
Perhaps she’d been hasty in declaring her intention to stand up to her father and keep him from getting the children. She hadn’t had good results when challenging him in the past. What made her think this time would be any different? Stuart was offering a solution to her dilemma, but everything in her balked at the thought of accepting it.
The children’s laughter rang out, drawing her attention to where Henry was leading them in a game of Simon Says. They were mimicking his movements, and he wasn’t making it easy. He was hopping on one foot and turning in circles while patting the top of his head.
His love of the children knew no bounds. He would make a wonderful father. She could imagine him holding a baby, his tenderness evident in every look and loving touch. What would it be like to see him doting on an infant with his blue eyes and her curly hair?
Where had that thought come from? Henry didn’t care for her in that way. He wanted to provide a home for his nieces and nephew, but he’d never said anything about wanting more children. Or a wife.
“Lavinia?” Stuart’s voice reminded her of his presence.
“I’m sorry. I was woolgathering. The truth is, I don’t know what to say. This is all so sudden.” There must be some other way, Lord. Please, help me find it.
“You don’t need to answer today. Take time to pray about it. You can let me know what you’ve decided after the Christmas Eve service. If you choose to accept my proposal, we could announce our engagement on Christmas morning.”
Christmas? That only left her two days to make one of the most important decisions of her life.
* * *
Something significant had taken place between Lavinia and Stuart. Henry was sure of it. He’d forced himself to keep his attention on the game he was playing with the children while they waited to begin the trip back to Sutter Creek, but he hadn’t been able to keep from glancing at the couple in the distance every so often.
Lavinia had been pacing at one point, evidently troubled by something. When she and Stuart had returned to the wagon and taken their places on the bench seat, she’d put more distance between herself and Stuart than before and avoided looking his way—a fact that brought Henry a great deal of satisfaction.
As they traveled the rutted road down the mountain, she encouraged the children to tell her about the Christmases they’d spent with their parents, listening intently to their detailed recollections. The shift in her focus from showing them the kind of lavish celebrations they would enjoy back in Philadelphia to learning about the simple, small-town observances they’d experienced and enjoyed was as welcome as the sun on his face after three days of biting cold. He intended to find out what had caused the change.
They reached Sutter Creek two hours later, and Henry pulled up at the American House hotel, only too happy to drop off Stuart. He might be good with the children, but he’d upset Lavinia, which Henry couldn’t abide. He had half a mind to hop down and have a word with the interloper, but the thought of facing her afterward kept him in the driver’s seat. She’d probably claim he had no right to interfere. The truth was he didn’t, which irked him.
Stuart turned to Lavinia, took her hand in his and gazed at her with unmistakable interest. “I look forward to seeing you at the Christmas Eve service and talking with you afterward. I trust you’ll have an answer for me.”
Her “I will,” uttered in a breathy voice, had Henry gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white. He kept his gaze forward, unable to stomach the scene playing out beside him.
“Good. I look forward to hearing it.” Stuart bid the children farewell, gave Henry a cursory nod and entered the hotel.
Henry urged the team forward, saying nothing as they traveled down Main and up Church Street. Lavinia remained quiet and reflective, although the children chatted excitedly about decorating the tree. He pulled in behind the house. Alex, Marcie and Dot clambered out of the wagon, followed by their aunt. He removed the Douglas Fir, grateful it was only seven feet tall instead of sixteen, as Lavinia had originally wanted. He had no idea what caused her to change her mind so quickly, but he was glad she had.
He carried the tree inside, set it in a large tub of sand, added some water and headed to the livery to return the wagon.
The familiar scents of horses, leather and stalls due for their nightly mucking out greeted him—along with the livery owner. “Evening, Henry. How did these lovely ladies do for you today?” The burly fellow patted the two mares in turn.
“Just fine. I’d take them out anytime.”
“Glad to hear they earned their oats. I’ll unhitch them, and you can settle up with Cyrus.”
Henry turned but stopped when he heard his name. “Yes?”
“Almost forgot to tell you. Mr. Little was in this morning. Since he usually takes these girls, your name came up. He asked me to let you know that he has a telegram waiting for you.”
“Thanks.”
Henry strode up Main to the American House and went inside. Thankfully, Worthington was nowhere to be seen.
The desk clerk looked up and smiled. “Afternoon, Mr. Hawthorn. Come for this, I presume?” He held out an envelope bearing the Alta California Telegraph Company name.
Henry opened it quickly, read the brief message and frowned.
“Bad news, is it?”
“Not terrible, but I’d hoped for better.” He’d finally received an offer on his hotel up in Marysville, but the amount the buyer was willing to pay was even less than what Henry had hoped to get, despite having lowered the price.
He returned to the house minutes later to find Lavinia and the children seated on the front porch steps, stringing popcorn and cranberries. “What are you doing out here?”
She looked up and smiled. “Making the garlands.”
“I can see that, but why aren’t you inside?” Lavinia generally spent most of her time in the house.
“It’s been so cold lately that we couldn’t be outdoors for very long. I thought it would be nice to enjoy a little more time in the fresh air.”
“And here I thought it was because the birds would clean things up for you.” He toed some broken bits of popcorn.
She chuckled. “I can’t keep anything from you, can I?”
Yes, she could. He had yet to come up with a way to ask her what had happened with Stuart that didn’t sound like prying.
“Uncle Henry, look how long my popcorn string is already.” Marcie held up a three-foot section.
“You’re off to a good start.”
“Mine’s short.” Dot dangled a string with only a few inches covered. “The popcorn breaks when I put the needle in.”
“Would you like some help, Dimples?”
She bobbed her head, her curls bouncing. He plopped down on the step beside Lavinia, pulled Dot onto his lap and gave her a lesson. She soon got the feel for how much pressure to exert and was happily threading popcorn on her string while singing her favorite carol in her adorable little girl voice.
Lavinia and Alex were stringing cranberries and had the red-tipped fingers to prove it. She joined in the singing, as did Alex and Marcie. Henry added his voice to the mix, reveling in the family scene. He’d spent years bouncing from one venture to another, but this was the life he’d dreamed of.
There was only one problem—the beautiful woman next to him was determined to leave and take the children with her. He could prevent the latter, since he was their legal guardian, but he could do nothing to keep Lavinia from walking out of his life. Or could he?
The carol ended, and Dot shivered. “Brr. I’m cold. Can we go in the house?”
Lavinia jerked to attention. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how chilly it had gotten. We’ll move into the parlor and maybe, if you children ask nicely, your uncle will make us some hot chocolate.”
“Please, Uncle Henry, will you?” Marcie asked.
Her brother and sister echoed her request.
He grinned. “Of course.”
Minutes later, he entered the parlor bearing a tray filled with steaming mugs. The children and their lovely aunt had created garlands aplenty. He set the tray on the table. “Here you are, but be car
eful. The chocolate’s hot. While we’re waiting for it to cool, I have something for you to do. Just a moment.” He left and returned with a pasteboard box he’d pulled from the attic.
Alex took it, whipped off the lid and shouted. “Look! These are the ornaments we made with Mama.”
The girls peered inside. Dot pulled out a five-sided star made of twigs tied with twine.
Marcie cradled a snowflake fashioned from cinnamon sticks in her hands. She stared at it with trembling lips. Twin tears trailed down her cheeks.
Henry squatted before her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“I remember watching Mama make this. She was artistic, just like me, wasn’t she?”
“Yes. You take after her that way.”
Marcie wiped away her tears with the back of a hand and sniffed. “I miss Mama and Papa so much.”
“We all do, Muffin. I think that ornament deserves a special place on the tree, don’t you? I’m sure you can find one.”
The grieving girl nodded. She padded over to the tree, hung the snowflake and fingered the cinnamon-scented creation.
Henry joined Lavinia on the settee across the room from the tree, where she sat watching the children eagerly hanging ornaments. He kept his voice low so the children wouldn’t hear them. “That box brings back memories. I can almost hear Pauline calling the children to come help her when she’d carry it in each year. Her excitement was contagious.”
“She must have been in her element.” Lavinia spoke softly. “One of her biggest disappointments when we were girls was that Father refused to let us decorate the tree. He said that was a job for the servants. But it wasn’t a job. It would have been fun, and yet he kept us from it like he did so many things.”
Lavinia’s gaze had grown distant, as though she was no longer there but had traveled back in time. He said nothing, eager to see if she’d continue.
She did, although her voice wavered. “I’ve told myself he meant well, but I wonder about that now. It seems he does what suits him with little thought of others. I don’t understand how he could even think of sending Alex off with a total stranger right after he arrives.”