“Feels good, doesn’t it, watching her bloom?”
“Mm. Not as much as watching the woman I love bloom.” His gaze wandered lazily over her. “Your hair looks nice today. I like the way you moved the bun from the top of your head to the back of your neck. I especially like the strand of hair dangling by your ear. Have I told you how much I love your ears?”
Clara blushed and took refuge in a geyser of words. She wasn’t sure she would ever entirely believe Ethan’s effusive blandishments, but she hoped he’d never cease giving them. “I, um, I took Mr. Fiske to Mrs. Chesterton’s boardinghouse after church this past Sunday. They developed an instant rapport. She’s playing for the community hymn sing tonight. From the gleam in Mr. Fiske’s eye within an hour of meeting her, I’ve a hunch he won’t be inquiring about my services as an accompanist much longer.”
“Good.”
They stood together in a puddle of sunshine, listening to the wind rattle the shutters and the fire crackle in the parlor fireplace, holding hands and basking in a transcendent peace.
“Ethan?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t want to wait for Christmas Day.”
“I know. I don’t either.” He reached back into his waistcoat, and withdrew a small box. “Here.”
Fingers suddenly unsteady, Clara took the proffered box and fumbled it open. Nestled in a bed of midnight velvet was the small charm of the Capitol she’d laid on the altar. “I don’t understand.” She lifted uncomprehending eyes to Ethan’s.
“The first Sunday I went to church was the Sunday when the minister asked you to leave your burdens. Yours was accidentally left behind, so I picked it up. I’ve been carrying your secret burden ever since. Now I think it’s time for us both to follow Reverend Miggs’s counsel, and lay this at the foot of the manger.”
As he spoke he produced a slender red ribbon, took the charm out of the box, threaded the ribbon through the hole and handed it back to Clara. “There’s a nice spot on that branch, just below the manger charm.”
Feeling as though she were dreaming, Clara carefully looped the ribboned ornament so that it dangled close by the charm depicting a manger with the Christ child sleeping peacefully in the hay. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “All this time…”
“Even back then I found myself needing to protect you, wanting to discover all your secrets. Though I didn’t comprehend God’s fine hand at work, I couldn’t shake you loose from my mind. Now that I understand why…” he plucked the box from her hand, removed the scrap of velvet, then handed the box back to her “…I’m hoping to replace your old burden and lost dreams…with this.”
Speechless, Clara stared up into his face until with a little laugh he clasped her chin with his thumb and index finger, gently forcing her to look down into what she’d thought was an empty box.
Instead of a tarnished silver charm of the Capitol Building, a ring holding a diamond surrounded by sapphires lay in the bottom, waiting in splendid silence.
“Is that for me?” she stammered.
“Well, I suppose it might fit Nim’s tail, but I’m not sure it’s his style.” Laughing, he waited with more patience than Job until Clara finally scraped together the wit to gingerly clasp the ring.
“Does this mean—?”
“Yes. Now it’s your turn to say the word. Would you like some help with the placement? Custom dictates that you slide it onto the fourth finger of your left hand…shall I help?”
Like a flock of birds freed at last from their cages, joy and happiness and hope soared upward, filling the small cottage with heavenly light. She could almost hear the angels singing. “Yes,” she managed, and held up her hand. “Yes and yes and yes!”
She watched with an overflowing heart as Ethan slid the ring onto her finger. Almost reverently he bestowed a kiss upon her lips. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
“I love you.” In a rapture of emotion she flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely, then stepped back. “Wait here.” Whirling, she dashed across to her sitting room, over to her desk. Before she lost her nerve, she gathered everything up in a messy bundle and returned to her—to her fiancé.
Shyness tugged, but she thrust it aside and handed Ethan her offering. “It’s very rough,” she told him breathlessly, “and will take a lot more work. But—I’ve already sold it.” A pang of sheer nerves turned her palms hot, filmed with perspiration. She watched in an agony of suspense as Ethan accepted the pages and began to leaf through them.
“‘Joy of Every Longing Heart. A Story of a Spinster. Why a Believer Should Never Lose Hope in the Power of Love. By Clara Penrose,’” he read the title aloud.
“I started it weeks ago, when I knew I’d fallen in love with you,” Clara said, quivering inside because she wasn’t sure whether the light blazing from his eyes was a reflection of her own joy, or—
He snatched her into his arms, crushing her and the manuscript against his chest. “You used your real name! Clara…you used your name. I love you, love you, love you.”
“Ethan…I just thought of something,” she managed between the intoxicating kisses he pressed to her brow, her temple, her lips. “Wait…” Laughter wove through the breathless words in an effervescent tumble. “The editor tells me the book won’t be published for well over a year.”
“Doesn’t matter. It will be worth waiting for, like you.” He stole another kiss.
“I can’t use my name!”
When he froze, she grabbed the manuscript, smoothed the crumpled pages, and laid it on the table, beneath the Christmas tree.
“Clara…”
“When were you thinking to marry me?”
“I thought…Christmastime next year? It seemed appropriate. My love, you should be proud to use your name. I know I am. I’ll announce it from the rooftops, on every street corner.”
“By the time this book is published, I won’t be Clara Penrose. I’ll be Clara Penrose Harcourt.”
Ethan threw back his head and shouted with laughter. “So you will be. So you will…” Then he wrapped her back in his arms, and sealed her lips with a thorough kiss.
NimNuan watched unblinking beside the tabletop Christmas tree, a loud purr proclaiming his satisfaction with the arrangements.
Dear Reader,
The working title of The Christmas Secret was Long-Expected Love, which came from an old Christmas hymn “Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus.” I still can’t think of this story without humming that melody in my head and repeating those comforting words—“From our fears and sins release us; let us find our rest in Thee…” That’s what music, especially Christmas music, does to me, sticking like colorful Post-its in my mind and heart. I love the reverence of all the ancient hymns, the soaring magnificence of Handel’s Messiah, the irrepressible fun of Frosty and Rudolph (except when the tunes are blared over store speakers in September), the sing-along nostalgia of White Christmas—so the very day after Thanksgiving our home is filled with the music of Christmas.
However, like Ethan and Clara in the late nineteenth century, our family has also struggled through difficult holidays, where our twenty-first-century radios and CDs remained silent because our hearts were grieving, and joyful holiday music only drove the pain deeper. Life during the dark times of the soul is somehow harder to bear in the Christmas season. Yet God steadfastly reaches out until He captures your attention. Through that mysterious process called faith, He can heal the soul and lift the heart. For me, most often His Voice speaks through the music. That’s why The Christmas Secret is filled with references to Christmas carols. My heartfelt hope for each of you who reads this story is that you may experience an hour or two of lightness, that one of the carols mentioned rings a chord within and allows you to look up—and hear the heavenly choir proclaiming joy to the world.
All ye, beneath life’s crushing load,/Whose forms are bending low,/Who toil along the climbing way/With painful steps and slow,/Look now! For glad and golden hours/ Come swiftly on the wing:
/O rest beside the weary road,/And hear the angels sing.
Regardless of circumstance, may your hearts this Christmas sing with joy,
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Though they love her, Clara Penrose’s family consider her an oddity, and they don’t understand her. Why do they feel this way about Clara? What does Clara do or not do that perpetuates this view?
Ethan’s reaction to human betrayal is to turn his back on God as well as his country and his calling. What significant event occurred to change his mind?
Both Clara and Ethan try to “prove” their faith through good works, and discover that merely doing good is not enough to enjoy lasting peace with God. What problems do Christians with this perspective encounter? In your life how do you reconcile this issue?
Clara’s pet cat NimNuan plays a significant role in her life. How do pets influence our lives? Do you believe God can speak to us through animals?
The minister of Clara’s church challenges the congregation to leave symbols of their burdens at the altar, in the manger. What message was he trying to convey? What symbolizes a burden in your life that may have robbed you of the joy of Christmas?
Like Christmas itself, The Christmas Secret is full of symbols. How many did you discover when reading the story? What did they represent?
Throughout the story Clara and Ethan create Christmas memories they can cherish the rest of their lives. Which scenes did you find the most “memorable”? What Christmas memories of your own do you hold most dear?
Ethan tells someone “…it’s long past time to quit toting the coffins of our respective spouses on our backs.” What does he mean? Did you think this was an accurate metaphor to describe their circumstances?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4523-9
MISTLETOE COURTSHIP
Copyright © 2009 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
CHRISTMAS BELLS FOR DRY CREEK
Copyright © 2009 by Janet Tronstad
THE CHRISTMAS SECRET
Copyright © 2009 by Sara Mitchell
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.
® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.SteepleHill.com
Mistletoe Courtship Page 24