Their Mistletoe Matchmakers

by Keli Gwyn

  The door to the right of the clerk’s desk opened, and a portly gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard appeared. Mr. Price crossed the waiting area and stood before Lavinia. “Miss Crowne, what a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming. If you’ll head on back, we can conduct our business.” He held out a hand toward the open door.

  She followed him to his office and took the proffered seat in front of his gleaming desk. The surface was free of all but an elegant rosewood inkstand, a blotter and a key. If things went well, the key was the one she’d walk away with.

  Mr. Price sank into the large leather chair behind his desk. “I’ve heard from my client.”

  The lawyer’s serious tone put Lavinia on alert. She summoned her most businesslike manner. “Did Mr. Benedict agree to rent me the meeting room?”

  “He did, but due to a change in his circumstances, he’s been forced to increase the rental fee.” The lawyer named a figure that made her breath catch. Other than batting her lashes a few times, she contained her surprise. Or so she hoped.

  Although she’d wanted to keep her expenses down, she had no choice but to pay the outrageous sum. There was no other place available in town that could accommodate both the children’s congregation and the families of their schoolmates. “You may tell Mr. Benedict I will accept his terms, but I want the amount we’ve agreed on in writing.”

  “Very well.” Mr. Price pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer, dipped his pen and dashed off a note to that effect, which he handed to Lavinia.

  “Is that—” she nodded at the key “—for the building? If so, I’d like to take a closer look at the meeting room.”

  “Certainly.”

  She took the key he offered but remained seated. Niggling doubts clawed at her, but she brushed them aside. “I have another matter I’d like to discuss with you. A legal matter. Shall I make an appointment with your clerk, or do you have time now?”

  “I do. Go ahead.”

  “You might be aware that Henry Hawthorn was granted guardianship of our nieces and nephew in his brother’s will.”

  “I didn’t know, but it makes sense. He’s the children’s closest relative and has been doing a wonderful job of caring for them from what I hear.”

  Mr. Price’s quick defense of Henry didn’t bode well. “He has, but I believe I could do as well. What’s more, that’s what my sister wanted.”

  The lawyer raised a salt-and-pepper eyebrow. “She had a will? Women don’t generally prepare one.”

  “No, but Pauline wrote to me long before Jack made his and said that if anything happened to them, she knew I’d take good care of their children. I have the letter.” She pulled it from her reticule and placed it in front of him.

  He scanned the portion she pointed out and looked up, his eyes filled with compassion. “Miss Crowne, I know you love the children, but a letter, even one that predates the will, doesn’t invalidate it. Perhaps she and her husband changed their minds in the ensuing years.”

  Lavinia drew in a deep breath, detecting a faint scent of cigar smoke. She lifted her chin and assumed an authoritative tone. “Or maybe she didn’t know Jack had named his brother. What I want to know is how to go about changing the designation.”

  “That’s not possible. It’s legally binding.”

  “Wills can be broken, can’t they?”

  Mr. Price slid the letter across his desk to her, leaned back and folded his arms. “Are you planning to contest it?”

  “If that’s what it takes. The children belong with me and my father. In Philadelphia. He can provide for them in ways Henry can’t. They’ll live in a fine home, wear nice clothes and receive a quality education.”

  The kindly lawyer clasped his hands and tapped his thumbs together. “All of which are available to them here, correct?”

  How could she explain without coming across as proud or boastful? “My father is a man of means. He intends to see that they have every advantage.”

  “You can’t take the children away. They’re Henry’s responsibility. Unless he refuses to serve or is declared incompetent, nothing can change that.”

  She could see why her father grew impatient with naysayers. As he often said, there was always a way around things if you looked hard enough. “Wills are successfully contested sometimes, are they not?”

  “They are, but from what I’ve heard, you don’t have a case. Not one I’d take, anyway.”

  “Then I’ll make one.” She scanned the leather-bound volumes on the bookshelf behind Mr. Price. “Those contain the laws, don’t they? If you would be so kind as to point me to the portion that relates to estates and guardianship, I’d be grateful.”

  The lawyer chuckled. “You want to read the statutes for yourself?”

  His patronization grated on her. “I do. It’s possible I might find something that could help.”

  “What you’ll find is that the law is on Henry’s side. Even if you were to dig up a charge and find a lawyer willing to take your case, it would be tried in Amador County by a jury of Henry’s peers. He’s known here. You’re not.”

  Even more reason for her to make a good impression on the residents of Sutter Creek. “Be that as it may, I’d like to read the pertinent sections. I’ll gladly pay for the privilege.”

  Mr. Price shook his head. “If you’re that set on it, you may sit in my conference room and wade through the statutes—free of charge. I’ll even provide a pen, paper and ink so you can take notes.”

  Why had she thought the man kindly? He was as quick to dismiss her as her father. How many times had she eagerly listened to him talk about his hotels only to have her suggestions dismissed? She might be a woman, but her ideas were as valid as any man’s. If given the opportunity, she could help run his hotels. Not that he’d considered her. Like so many men, he didn’t think her capable.

  Well, she would show them. She would pore over the volume Mr. Price had handed her. If there was a way to defeat Henry, she would find it.

  * * *

  The sooner Henry could leave the smithy, the better. The lingering scent of charcoal in the air caused his eyes to sting and his chest to grow heavy. Everywhere he looked, he could see Jack. If it weren’t for his appointment with a prospective buyer, he wouldn’t be here now. At least the man hadn’t wanted to fire up the forge.

  Mr. Weitemeyer scanned the shop. His gaze came to rest on Henry. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the place, Mr. Hawthorn, but I had something else in mind. The blacksmith shop I worked at up in Placerville is larger, as is the town itself. I want to build a business like that, so I don’t reckon Sutter Creek is the spot for me.”

  “I understand. Thanks for coming down. I wish you well on your search.”

  Mr. Weitemeyer strode in the direction of his horse, which he’d left tied up nearby. Henry locked the doors of the smithy, blew into his hands to warm them and heaved a sigh of relief. Although little remained in Jack’s bank account, Henry wasn’t ready to let go of this tie to his brother yet. He had no interest in returning to the profession, but this shop had been Jack’s dream. Perhaps if a young man came along who loved it as much as Jack had, Henry could part with it. He prayed the Lord would lead the right buyer his way.

  Lavinia closed the door of the lawyer’s office three doors down, stepped onto the plank walkway and headed toward Henry, although she had yet to see him. She appeared to be focused on something in her hand. Her meeting with Mr. Price must have been successful because she looked happy.

  Her smile drew his attention to her lovely lips. He’d thought of them far too often the past couple of days. When he’d looked up and discovered the mistletoe above them, he’d had the strongest urge to give the children what they’d wanted and kiss their beautiful aunt. Yes, beautiful. He’d tried his best not to notice, but with that mass of dark curls piled on he
r head, her expressive cocoa-colored eyes and her heart-shaped face, she was striking.

  What he’d found most interesting about Lavinia’s reaction to the children’s surprise was the way she’d blushed. For a moment, he’d gotten the impression she was considering welcoming his kiss, but she’d stepped back before he could be sure.

  He might have been disappointed if it hadn’t been for the girls’ probing questions. When Marcie had asked why Lavinia didn’t kiss him, she hadn’t laughed at the idea. Instead, she’d said, a kiss is something special, and your uncle and I haven’t known each other that long. That answer held exciting possibilities. Her response to Dot’s question had made him wonder if Lavinia was as attracted to him as he was to her. She’d said without hesitation that she liked him, Henry Hawthorn, former blacksmith. A man beneath her station. He’d been more than willing to spare her further embarrassment after that and had given Dot a kiss instead.

  Lavinia drew near, saw him and held up the key.

  “You got it?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, setting the loose curls at her temples bobbing. “I did.”

  “Good. I was afraid Benedict would let you down.”

  “He didn’t do that, but he raised the price.” She named a figure that caused him to let loose with a low whistle. “I’m just thankful he let me rent the place.”

  If Henry had any doubts how much Lavinia had invested in holding her party, she’d just dispelled them. She was willing to pay an amount for one night’s use of the hall equal to what he would take in if guests booked all fifteen rooms in his hotel. Even if he had that kind of ready cash, which he didn’t, he would have turned Benedict down cold. But not Lavinia. It appeared she was determined to host an event unlike anything the children had ever seen. “You seem to be taking it well.”

  “I’m disappointed, of course, but the important thing is that I can proceed with my plans. Right now, I need to pick up the children at school. After that, I can take a closer look at the meeting hall. Would you like to join me?”

  Very much. “Sure.”

  His response earned him another of Lavinia’s sunny smiles. He strolled along Main Street with her by his side, occasionally steadying her. Due to the rain yesterday, followed by a dip in the temperature today, the wooden walkways were slippery.

  If anyone would have told him ten years ago that she would be at his side with her hands firmly wrapped around the crook of his arm, he wouldn’t have believed it. He certainly wouldn’t have believed how much he enjoyed having her there. Then again, what man wouldn’t welcome the opportunity to escort a beautiful woman?

  There was more to Lavinia than he’d first thought. She might be hosting a party the likes of which Sutter Creek had never seen to prove to him how capable she was of caring for the children—which was entirely unnecessary, since she wouldn’t be taking them with her—but he’d watched her push herself in other ways. She was learning how to cook. He wouldn’t forget her childlike glee when she mastered the art of flipping a fried egg or her satisfied smile when her attempts to tame Marcie’s mass of curls into a braid finally earned the finicky girl’s approval.

  Walking into Norma’s kitchen Saturday morning and finding Lavinia bent over the table as she helped the girls with their handicraft had filled him with hope. If she could enjoy the simple pleasures of the season, perhaps she’d see their value and realize the children didn’t expect her to go to great lengths to make their Christmas special. Just having her here would help them through this first celebration without Jack and Pauline and make it memorable.

  A stab of guilt stopped him. How could he have forgotten that this Christmas would also be Lavinia’s first without her sister? Perhaps she needed to do all she could to recreate the happy times when Pauline had been part of her life. If that was the case, he ought to be more supportive.

  Lavinia stopped and peered up at him, her breath coming in a white puff. “Is something wrong?”

  “I was thinking about your party. It sounds like it’s going to be quite the event. Tell me more about it.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Why the sudden interest?”

  “I wasn’t sure it was happening, but since it is...”

  She studied him for a moment, and they started up the street again. “I never had any doubts. Of course, I’m not happy about the increase in the rent, but I’m used to dealing with shrewd businessmen. At least I can proceed with my plans. There will be desserts—plenty of them—and presents for all the children. I’m working on entertainment. Norma told me about a visiting concert pianist who could play carols. When I was at the mercantile, I heard that there’s a highly regarded puppet troupe performing in Sacramento City right now. Perhaps they could be persuaded to come to Sutter Creek.”

  Gifts for all, a concert pianist and a puppet show? Lavinia’s event was going to have her guests’ mouths gaping. “We have some fine musicians here in town, and I know a miner who used to perform his ventriloquist act at children’s parties. I could ask him if he’d be interested in helping you out.”

  “I play passably myself, but I would never think of performing for such a large gathering. And while I appreciate your offer to contact your friend, I’m sure the children would enjoy seeing a professional show.”

  Now was probably not the time to tell her that the entertainer-turned-miner had been invited into the homes of some of Boston’s most influential families. Lavinia clearly had a vision for her party, and she intended to see it realized.

  Sadly, he feared her extravagance—and expense—might not yield the results she was after. One evening of fun couldn’t compete with years of tradition and treasured memories. But just to be sure, he had a plan of his own that would delight the children and, if all went well, convince a certain woman there was joy to be found in the simple things her sister had come to value. Why that mattered so much to him, he didn’t know, but it did.

  Lavinia halted in front of the grocer’s plate glass window. “What is Gladys doing in there? I sent her to the store over an hour ago.”

  “It appears she’s talking with Mr. Staples.”

  “I can see that, but she should have been back at the house starting supper by now. I need to have a word with her.” She shoved open the door, setting the bell to ringing, and strode over to the counter where her housekeeper was hanging on every word coming out of the shop owner’s mouth.

  It didn’t take much to see that the older woman was smitten. The grocer seemed sweet on Gladys, too. Henry followed, eager to see how Lavinia would handle the situation.

  Mr. Staples was the first to notice her. “What can I do for you, Miss Crowne?”

  Gladys spun around, her eyes the size of cracker barrels. “Miss Lavinia. What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting with that lawyer fellow.”

  “I’ve concluded my business and think it’s time you do the same. Where’s Dot?”

  “Over yonder.” Gladys waved a hand toward the back corner where Dot sat in one of two chairs flanking a pot-bellied stove.

  Dot pulled a peppermint stick out of her mouth, hopped up and dashed over to them. “Aunt Livy! Did you come to get me?”

  “You may join us, yes. I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long.”

  “It’s all right. Mr. Staples gave me candy, and his cat was sitting with me.”

  A gray tabby sidled up to Henry and wove between his ankles. “She’s a pretty one, isn’t she, but not as pretty as you, Dimples.” He hefted Dot into his arms, careful to avoid her sticky fingers.

  Lavinia frowned. “How much candy have you had?”

  “This many.” She held up three fingers.

  Mr. Staples gave Lavinia an apologetic smile. “Sorry ’bout that, miss. I guess I lost count.”

  “It appears my housekeeper has lost track of the time, too. School will be letting out soon.”<
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  Gladys clapped a hand to her chest. “Oh my! I had no idea. Emery and I—” she winced “—that is, Mr. Staples and I got to talking, and before I knew it, there you were. I’ll be getting on home now.” She took the brown paper package the grocer handed her, cast him a lingering look and turned to leave.

  “We’ll talk later, Gladys.” Although Lavinia’s tone was level, it had an edge to it.

  “Yes, Miss Lavinia.” The older woman rushed out of the shop and pulled the door closed with such force that the glass center vibrated.

  “Now, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up.” Lavinia turned from Dot to the grocer. “Do you have a wash basin we could use, Mr. Staples?”

  He held out a hand toward a doorway at the back of the shop. “Behind that curtain. You can’t miss it.”

  She took Dot and marched away, leaving Henry alone with the grocer.

  Mr. Staples speared a hand through his wiry gray hair and blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean to get Gladys in trouble. It’s my fault. We get to talking, and afore you know it, an hour’s gone by. I don’t have to tell you, though, do I? I’m guessing you and Miss Lavinia lose track of time ever’ now and then, too.” The older man chuckled.

  Henry didn’t appreciate the insinuation. “Miss Crowne and I have a good deal to discuss, but our conversations are centered on the children.”

  “If you say so, but I saw the way you were looking at her. I can understand. That young lady is as purty as she is strong-minded.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Time to steer the conversation in a new direction. “I heard you got a shipment of spices. I hope there was some nutmeg extract. I’m sure the children would enjoy a batch of Bethlehem Stars.” The small star-shaped cakes had been a favorite of his when he was a boy. He’d have fun showing Alex and the girls how to make them.

  A discussion of Christmas confections followed, setting Henry’s mouth to watering. Lavinia and Dot returned and listened with interest until he checked his pocket watch and brought things to a close. “Alex and Marcie will be waiting for us, so we’ll bid you good day, Mr. Staples. We’ll have to talk treats again some time.”