The 12 Brides of Christmas Collection

by Mary Connealy

  She plopped down on the bed and stared out the window. Where had the excitement over her trip gone? For as long as she could remember, she’d dreamed of a white Christmas. Every year, without fail, it was the one thing she’d wished for. Oh, there’d been a little snow here and there, but nothing to compare with what her cousin described. Surely the desire for one short trip wasn’t the sign of a discontented heart.

  She lifted the lid of her hope chest, just to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. As she riffled through pillowcases, dishes, and hand towels embroidered with snowflakes against a background of evergreens, and all the other things a young woman stored away in anticipation of the day she’d set up housekeeping in her own home, she finally admitted to herself what was bothering her.

  What she’d left undone.

  Unbeknownst to anyone, other than maybe to Lucy, Annabelle’s dream of a white Christmas was just a small part of her trip. She dreamed of finally meeting the one man who could make her heart sing, the one man who would look at her with stars in his eyes and who’d say sweet things to her, bring her wildflowers in the springtime. The one man who would tell her he couldn’t live without her. She’d thought she’d find that man in Illinois. But what if he was right here, here in Mississippi, underneath the pines?

  What if Samuel is that man?

  But she didn’t know how he felt. Did he even think about her like she’d begun to think about him? He’d wished her well on her trip and teased her about coming back. But he hadn’t given any indication that he might care for her in any way other than as his partner’s sister and as a friend.

  A light knock sounded on the door, and Annabelle’s mother poked her head in, a smile on her face. “You ready for your big adventure?”

  “I can’t believe it’s finally here.” Annabelle smiled, struggling to push thoughts of Samuel to the back of her mind.

  “Enjoy it. Two weeks will go faster than you ever dreamed.” Her mother hugged her and held her at arm’s length. “Now, you be good, mind your manners, and don’t go off alone with any young man, no matter how respectable your aunt claims he is.”

  “Mama, you know I’d never …”

  “I know, but it’s a mama’s duty to issue these warnings. And I just don’t trust those big-city boys, not by a long shot.” She reached for a soft-sided carpetbag. “Now, gather your things. Jack’s downstairs and rarin’ to go.”

  “Jack?” Annabelle grabbed the other bag and followed her mother down the hall. “I thought Papa was taking us to the train station.”

  “He got called away. Old Mr. Hedricks is in a bad way and asked for him. Your pa asked Jack to take you and your aunt to the train station.”

  “Oh no. Is Mr. Hedricks going to be all right?”

  “Don’t worry, now. Just his stomach ulcers giving him fits. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” They hurried outside, and Jack put her bags in the wagon bed. Her mother shaded her eyes and glanced at the sky. “Thank goodness it’s not raining today, or you’d have to take Eugenia’s buggy.”

  “Knowing Aunt Eugenia, we might have to anyway.” Jack helped Annabelle into the wagon and climbed up beside her.

  “Well, get on, then. You don’t want to be late. Mind what I told you, Annabelle.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jack slapped the reins against the horses’ flanks and they headed out. A package slid along the seat, and Annabelle grabbed it to keep it from falling. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, Samuel sent that. Said to give it to you and that you weren’t to open it until Christmas morning.”

  “Really? How sweet.” Annabelle ran the tips of her fingers over the odd-shaped package wrapped in plain brown wrapping paper and tied with a string. Her heart fluttered. How could she wait another week to see what Samuel had gotten her?

  Her brother scowled. “Samuel? Sweet?”

  “Of course he’s sweet.”

  Jack rested his elbows on his knees, the reins clasped between his fingers. “Then why are you gallivanting off to Illinois chasing after some beau if you think my partner is sweet?”

  “I’m not chasing off after a beau.” Annabelle glared at her brother then shrugged. “You know I just want a white Christmas.”

  He arched a brow at her. “So you’re saying that you won’t even look at a man while you’re there? That you and Lucy haven’t talked about men in all those letters y’all have sent back and forth, back and forth, day after day? Nobody can write that much about snow and dresses and such nonsense.”

  Annabelle squirmed. “Well, Lucy might have mentioned a few fellows that she wants me to meet.”

  Jack grinned. “See, I told you.”

  “But it doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Just like you calling Samuel sweet doesn’t mean a thing either?” He nodded at the package. “Or him taking the time to make you a present, knowing you weren’t even going to be here for Christmas.”

  “He made it?”

  Her brother grimaced. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part.”

  Annabelle fingered the string. What could it be? Something made from wood, no doubt. A small box for trinkets and ribbons? A carving of some kind? Smoke from the mill curled above the treetops around the next bend. She needed to thank Samuel. His was the only present she was taking from home.

  As they rounded the bend and the mill came into view, Annabelle put a hand on her brother’s arm. “Stop.”

  “No time.” Jack didn’t slack up. “Aunt Eugenia’s waiting.”

  “Jack. Please.” Annabelle held up the package. “I can’t leave without thanking him.”

  Chapter 12

  Samuel had kept himself busy from the moment Reverend Denson had stopped by to ask Jack to drive Annabelle and Miss Eugenia into town. Jack would be gone most of the day, so they wouldn’t be able to cut any logs, but he could finish up the last of his projects for Christmas, starting with the rocking chair for Mrs. Denson.

  The reverend wanted him to deliver it bright and early Christmas morning, and had even invited him to stay for dinner, but Samuel wouldn’t be eatingChristmas dinner with the Densons this year. He couldn’t stomach the thought of sitting there listening to the family’s laughter with Annabelle’s empty chair across from him.

  He sanded the chair runners, the scraping filling the quietness of the shop.

  “Samuel?”

  His stomach did a slow roll at the unexpected sound of Annabelle’s soft voice. Turning, he saw her silhouetted in the open doorway, in a dark green dress that brought out the color of her eyes, and her best Sunday coat and scarf.

  “What are you doing here?” He smiled to take the sting out of his blunt question. “Don’t you have a train to catch?”

  “We’re on the way now.” She glided across the sawdust-strewn floor, her eyes sparkling. “But I couldn’t leave without thanking you for the gift.”

  “It’s not much.” He shrugged, his heart rate kicking up a notch when she rested a hand on his arm.

  “It is to me. It’ll be the only present from home that I’ll have to open on Christmas morning.” Her smile slipped, and she blinked, a hint of moisture spiking her lashes.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Samuel dipped his head and peered into her face. “Tears just before your grand adventure?”

  “Silly, isn’t it?” She shook her head and sniffed. “I know you told me already, but it just hit me that this will be the first time in my life that I’ll be away from my family during Christmas.”

  “Well, it’s just for two weeks, and you’ll be back.” Lord, please let her come back. “If you don’t go off and forget about us.”

  “I won’t.” She shook her head. “Thank you for the present, Samuel. No matter what it is, I’ll treasure it for always.” She raised on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Her gaze searched his, and it was all he could do not to tell her that he loved her, that he didn’t want her to go.

  “Annabelle!” Jack called from outside. “Hurry up. Time’s a wastin’.”


  Something akin to disappointment shuttered her features, and she turned away. Samuel could no more stop himself than he could stop the train carrying her away from him. He reached out and lightly clasped her slender wrist. At his touch, her lashes swept up and her eyes met his, a question in their depths.

  He tugged, and she came willingly. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to meet his kiss, and her lips were as sweet and tender as he’d dreamed they would be. The kiss lasted seconds, or minutes, he was never sure, but one thing he was sure of, it wasn’t long enough.

  “Annabelle!”

  Annabelle started, her wide-eyed gaze riveted on Samuel’s face. “I’ve got to go.”

  Chapter 13

  Annabelle stared at the telegram from Lucy’s father, telling them not to come to Illinois. A blizzard had shut down all train travel into Chicago.

  “Well, if that don’t just beat all,” Aunt Eugenia sputtered. “Jack, you might as well turn this wagon around and take us home.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jack was uncharacteristically quiet, but what could he say? No amount of teasing or joking would change things.

  Aunt Eugenia patted Annabelle’s gloved hand. “What a pity, Annabelle. I know how much you had your heart set on spending time with Lucy. But you’ll get another chance. Maybe this summer would be a good time to visit, much better than the dead of winter.”

  Annabelle nodded, not trusting herself to speak. When would she get another chance? School was due to start back in two weeks and would run all the way into May. And Aunt Eugenia didn’t realize that it was a white Christmas she longed for just as much as she longed to see her cousin.

  How ironic.

  The very thing she longed for—snow—was the very thing that was keeping her from her dream. And Christmas only came once a year. What would next year bring? Where would she be by then? What if she never got another chance at a white Christmas?

  I will be content, Lord.

  She searched her heart for the bitter disappointment that she expected to feel and was surprised to discover her regret wasn’t as keen as it would have been a week ago. All the way to town, she’d listened to Aunt Eugenia’s prattle, answered her aunt’s questions. But in the lulls, when Aunt Eugenia got wound up on one tale or another that Annabelle could recite in her sleep, her mind wandered.

  Straight back to Samuel and the kiss they’d shared.

  Samuel.

  Like a two-by-four fresh off the saw blade, his kiss had knocked her upside the heart and made her realize what a dolt she’d been. She’d been so caught up in her own girlish dreams and plans that she’d failed to pay attention to what was right in front of her.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. She had noticed how he’d teased her and held her close when she’d almost fallen, but she’d decided that her own romantic notions of wanting a beau had clouded her vision and that Samuel didn’t feel anything more for her than a brotherly type love because he was Jack’s partner.

  Her cheeks flamed. His kiss had been anything but brotherly.

  “Annabelle, are you listening?”

  She started, realizing they’d pulled up in front of her aunt’s house. “I’m sorry, Aunt Eugenia, my mind wandered.”

  Her aunt gave her an understanding smile. “You’re forgiven. I was saying that you and Jack are welcome to spend the night with me. It’ll be dark by the time you get home.”

  Annabelle shook her head. She just wanted to be home in her own bed to nurse her disappointment. “Thank you—”

  “We’d better head on home, Aunt Eugenia.” Jack jumped down from the wagon and helped their aunt down then reached into the wagon for her bags. “Samuel and I need to be in the woods by daylight.”

  “Of course, I wasn’t thinking. You’ve already lost a day of work, Jack, and Annabelle and I appreciate it.”

  They said their good-byes, and Jack urged the horses toward home. They rode in silence for a while, before he slanted a look her way. “You’re mighty quiet.”

  Annabelle shrugged. “Disappointed, that’s all.”

  “Ah, Sis, I know how much this trip meant to you.” Jack jostled her shoulder. “Sorry it didn’t work out like you planned.”

  She threw him a surprised look. “Thanks, Jack.”

  He tossed her a teasing grin. “See, I can be just as sweet as Samuel when I want to be.”

  Annabelle laughed along with him, grateful for the gathering twilight that masked the blistering heat that swooshed up her neck and flooded her cheekbones. “The key is that you rarely want to be.”

  The miles passed quickly, the jingle of the harness and the clop-clop of the horses’ hooves filling the silence as they topped the ridge a mile north of the sawmill. Would Samuel still be there? Would Jack stop? Her heart pounded. How could she face Samuel this soon after he’d kissed her?

  She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and prayed Jack wouldn’t stop. They continued on, the wagon creaking as dusk fell quickly. Her heart pounded as the squat barnlike structure came into view, dark, no smoke rising from the smokestack. Samuel had closed up shop for the night and gone home. As they plodded on past, Annabelle closed her eyes in relief. She needed time to think before she saw him again.

  Because above and beyond thoughts of the kiss they’d shared and the way his touch sent her heart rate spiraling out of control, one panicky thought rose to the surface. Why hadn’t he said anything? If he cared for her, why hadn’t he declared himself instead of letting her go? Her cheeks heated as the thought flitted through her brain.

  Maybe he had declared himself, not with words, but with actions.

  Chapter 14

  Come daylight, Samuel and Jack were in the woods harvesting their first tree of the day. Jack whistled a merry tune, and Samuel poured his frustration into pushing the crosscut saw toward his partner then pulling it back with just as much gusto.

  Jack had plenty to be happy about. But with Annabelle gone, Samuel didn’t expect to enjoy Christmas very much. And he’d made things worse by kissing her yesterday. He clenched his jaw as he jerked the saw toward himself. Not that he regretted kissing her—not by a long shot—but now he had two full weeks to stew on how she felt about it, and what he’d do about it when she returned.

  He scowled at Jack. “What are you so happy about?”

  Jack grinned. “I’m going to ask Maggie to marry me on Christmas Eve. I don’t have a ring yet, but she won’t mind when she finds out that we’re building her a house.”

  “We?”

  “Of course.” Jack pushed the saw toward Samuel. “I’ll return the favor when it’s your turn. Which reminds me. You haven’t asked about Annabelle this morning.”

  Samuel thrust the blade back and sawdust flew, the rhythmic, rasping sound filling the forest. “There’s really nothing to ask. I’m sure you got her and her aunt on the train without incident. They’re probably in Illinois by now.”

  “Nope.”

  Samuel’s gaze sharpened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “They didn’t go. Blizzard in Illinois halted all train travel.” Jack gave the saw a shove toward Samuel. “So, maybe now you can see about courting my sister like you should have done already.”

  Annabelle hadn’t gone to Illinois.

  She was still here, in Mississippi, at home, less than two miles away as the crow flies. His heart pounded, and it wasn’t from the push-pull exertion of working the saw. He wanted to ask Jack if she’d been disappointed, but he already knew the answer to that question. Of course she was. A white Christmas was all she’d talked about for weeks, for months.

  And he’d kissed her.

  Then thought he had two weeks for the image to fade.

  What was he going to do now?

  Chapter 15

  Annabelle unpacked her carpetbags, folded her clothes, and put them away. She fingered the thick twine tied around Samuel’s present. Should she take it back and tell him to just give it to her on Christmas morning?
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  Taking the present back would be silly, and how would she face him, alone, at the sawmill? Or worse, in front of Jack?

  No, she’d wait until Christmas Day. Since his mother had moved to the other side of Newton to live with her sister, he’d probably spend Christmas with her family anyway, just as he had for the last two years. At least on Christmas morning, her family would be around, and she wouldn’t feel quite so awkward when she opened it. And maybe, just maybe, the two of them could move forward after that. If … if that was what he wanted.

  “Annabelle?” her mother called from the kitchen.

  “Yes, ma’am? Coming.” She left the package on top of her hope chest and headed down the hall.

  “Lilly’s awake.” Her mother, hands busy kneading a lump of dough, nodded at Annabelle’s little sister. The toddler’s grasping hands pulled at her mother’s skirt. Lilly spotted Annabelle, let go of her mother, and toddled toward her sister.

  Annabelle picked her up and hugged her. “Hello, sunshine.”

  “Run and gather the eggs, would you?” Her mother deftly flipped the dough over and continued working it with her fingers. “As soon as I set this bread to rising, I want to get some baking done. Christmas will be here before you know it.”

  Annabelle lowered Lilly to her pallet and handed her a pan and a wooden spoon.

  Her mother cringed at the first bang. “Oh goodness, Annabelle, not that.”

  “Sorry, Mama, it’s the only thing that keeps her busy and out of trouble.” She laughed as she grabbed a coat off a peg by the door.

  “And, Annabelle?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I know you’re disappointed that your trip didn’t work out, but I’m glad you’ll be home for Christmas. I wasn’t looking forward to having you gone, you know.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  They shared a smile before Annabelle hurried to the chicken coop to gather the eggs. It didn’t take long, and she re-entered the kitchen, eggs in hand. Her mother peered into the basket and counted. “Hmm, I was hoping for more. We’ll all have to make do with one fried egg each the next few days if I’m going to get my baking done.”