by Keli Gwyn
Alex, who had come into the kitchen, frowned. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Marcie.”
“Well, it’s true. You try one.”
Henry rested a hand on each of the children’s shoulders. “If you two will have a seat, I’ve got an idea.”
Lavinia looked at the doorway. “Where are Miss Norma, Dot and the others? I thought you were all going to walk home from school together.”
Marcie set the remainder of her snickerdoodle on the table. “They were being slowpokes, so Alex and I decided to race up the hill.”
A rap at the front door was followed by Norma’s cheery call. “We’re back!”
Lavinia left Henry and the older children in the kitchen and went to greet her friend. Norma stood in the entryway with Bobby in her arms and Dot and her two girls surrounding her.
“Thanks for watching Dot this afternoon and for walking Alex and Marcie home.”
Norma smiled. “My pleasure. Yvonne was happy to have the company, and I was glad to have a few minutes to call my own while this little fellow napped.” She kissed her son’s forehead.
“Would you like to come in? I did some baking, and you’re welcome to sample my disasters—if you’re brave, that is.”
Norma smiled. “Come now. It can’t be that bad.”
Lavinia scoffed. “My snickerdoodles are so hard they could be used as cobblestones. Henry about broke a tooth biting into one.”
Dot peered up at Lavinia. “Can I get a cookie?”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, sweetie. They didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.”
“It’s fine.” Henry stood in the dining room doorway. “You made tasty treats that are great for dunking in milk. They don’t crumble or get soggy. So, if you two ladies don’t mind, I’ll take the girls with me and give you a few minutes to yourselves.”
Norma nodded. “Thank you, Henry.” She addressed her daughters. “But you’ll have to be quick, girls. I need to get supper started.”
He left with his charges, having formed them into a train with himself as the engine and Dot as the caboose. He led the way to the kitchen, providing a piercing whistle and inviting the girls to join him on the chugging.
Norma smiled at the retreating group and turned to Lavinia. “Were you able to ask Henry if he’ll help you with the baking?”
“He’s agreed.”
“Good. Then you have your location and refreshments taken care of. How are things coming with the entertainment?”
Lavinia inhaled sharply. “I’d forgotten about that. I need to get to the post office and see if the letter from the puppet troupe has arrived. They were supposed to have gotten back to me by now. I’d best be on my way. Would you please let Henry know?”
“Certainly.”
“Thank you.” Lavinia threw on her coat, grabbed her reticule and dashed out the door.
Minutes later, she entered the American House hotel and walked up to the owner who served as the Sutter Creek postmaster. “Do you have a letter for me, Mr. Little?”
He checked the slots filled with mail but returned to the counter empty handed. “Sorry, Miss Crowne. Maybe there will be something in the mailbag for you tomorrow.”
That would be too late. She needed to get the invitations out and had planned to add a mention of the puppet show to them that evening. She produced a smile, albeit a half-hearted one. “Thank you.”
She squared her shoulders, left the hotel and headed down Main Street. The ever-present rumble of the stamp mills echoed the throbbing at her temples. She’d come to Sutter Creek prepared to give the children a Christmas beyond their wildest dreams, and yet she’d dealt with one challenge after another.
At least she had the venue reserved. Henry had agreed to help her with the baking, so she’d have desserts for the guests. If she wanted entertainment beyond accepting the church pianist’s offer to play carols as background music, she’d have to ask Henry to arrange a meeting with his ventriloquist friend. She could get gifts for the children in town. They might not be as nice as what she’d hoped to find, but at least she’d have something to give them.
The only thing left to take care of was getting a Christmas tree, but she could hire one of the young men in town to chop one down for her and deliver it. If she bought all the decorations the mercantile had and tied the gifts for the children to the boughs, the tree would look passable.
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Everything would be fine—provided nothing else went wrong.
Now to see if Mr. Price would take her case.
* * *
Henry hefted the sack of flour onto his shoulder the following afternoon, thanked the younger Mr. Staples, who was running the grocery store while his older brother was on his honeymoon, and headed up Church Street to the house, where Lavinia was waiting for him to give her another baking lesson. She was an apt student. Between the two of them, they would have ample time to prepare the desserts she’d chosen to serve at her party.
The thought of working with her again quickened his pace. When she was immersed in a project, she ceased to be the prim and proper lady society expected. Instead, she became as animated and as talkative as Marcie, peppering him with questions. Lavinia laughed more easily and more often, too. She might not be aware of the transformation but he was, and he liked it.
He entered the kitchen minutes later and proceeded to refill the flour tin.
Lavinia smiled. “Oh, good. You’re back. Just in time, too.” She grabbed a folded dish towel, opened the oven door and pulled out a tray of hard gingerbread cut into triangular-shaped pieces. A sunny smile burst forth, adding to her beauty. “They turned out just right.”
Her joy was contagious. “They look great. I’m curious why you cut them that way, though.”
“They’re going to be Christmas trees.” She held the tray in one hand, grabbed a spatula and began putting the trees on a wire cooling rack. “I made some white frosting the way you showed me. I’ll put it in a rolled-up parchment sheet and squeeze it out like garland. I’ve cut some candied fruit into little pieces that the children can use to decorate the trees. They’ll have fun, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do. And speaking of the children, where’s Dot?”
“Upstairs taking a nap. I expect her to come down soon.”
“She’s not getting sick, is she?”
Lavinia paused, the spatula suspended midair. “I don’t think so. She’d been playing with her doll in the parlor, but she popped in here for a minute and then headed up to her room. I peeked in soon after and saw her curled up in bed. I figured she was just tired out. Why?”
“She stopped taking naps not long after she turned three.”
“You’re right. I’ve never seen her take one before. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll check on her and make sure she doesn’t have a fever.” She lifted the last of the gingerbread triangles from the tray and held it out to him. “Would you like to try one and see if it tastes all right?”
“Would I ever.” He sank his teeth into the treat and savored the burst of spicy goodness. “This is delicious. You could serve these at the party.”
“These?” She laughed. “They’re not fancy. They’re—”
“Fun. The children would love decorating them, and aren’t they the reason for the shindig, after all?”
Lavinia’s smile faded. “Now don’t go spoiling things, Henry. I’ve had a good time working with you, but it seems you haven’t grasped my vision for the party. It’s going to be a grand affair.” She frowned. “At least, it’s supposed to be.”
Of that he had no doubt. She’d told him that morning about the gifts she was going to buy, one for every child at the party. Although she’d intended to purchase things like toy soldiers or tea sets, the limited selections in the shops had thwart
ed her plans. Instead, every child at the party would leave with a small item such as a yo-yo, a wooden top, or a cup and ball. Although she was disappointed, he felt sure she’d end up happy with her choices and had shared his thoughts as tactfully as possible.
“Thanks to you, I have entertainment now. I just hope everything works out with your friend.” She set the empty tray on the stovetop and picked up a full one.
Lavinia had surprised him by agreeing to hire Quinn to provide the entertainment, even though she had yet to meet the talented ventriloquist. It wasn’t like her to relinquish control, but with the party just three days away, she’d run out of options. “You can trust me. I’ve seen Quinn keep a crowd of miners enthralled, and they can be a tough audience. Your guests, children and parents alike, will enjoy his performance.”
“I’m sure they will, but I’m still feeling a bit uneasy. I can’t explain it.”
“Makes sense. This a big undertaking.” She was counting on winning Alex, Marcie and Dot over with this event, so she had a lot invested in it. “Have faith. I’m sure things will work out.”
“I hope you’re right.” She put the tray of gingerbread in the oven, stood and dusted her hands on her apron. “I’ll go upstairs and make sure Dot’s all right.”
“Would you mind if I tag along?”
“You don’t trust me to detect a fever on my own, do you?” She chuckled. “Fine. Follow me.” She led the way up the stairs with him one step behind.
They were on the second landing when she paused. “Do you hear that?”
He did. Dot was crying.
Lavinia raced up the last steps, but he took them two at a time, passing her by. He rushed to Dot’s bedside, pulled the sobbing girl into his arms and then held her back far enough so he could look into her tearstained face. “I’m here, Dimples. What’s wrong?”
“It hurts here.” She put a hand over her heart.
He glanced at Lavinia, who stood to the side. She held up her hands and shook her head, clearly as mystified as he was. He turned back to Dot. “Are you having trouble breathing?”
“I can...breathe,” she said between shuddering breaths, “but, I c-c-can’t stop...crying.”
Lavinia knelt beside the bed. “Are you sad, sweetie?”
Dot nodded.
“Why?”
“Because Christmas is coming, and it’s all wrong.” Dot dissolved into tears once more.
Henry whipped out his freshly laundered handkerchief and mopped up some of the moisture on Dot’s puffy red face. He could handle most things, but crying females puzzled him. If his niece would just tell them what was bothering her, he could make things right. As it was, he felt helpless.
A gentle pressure on his arm drew his attention. He looked down to find Lavinia’s hand resting there. “I think I know what’s going on. Perhaps if I hold her...”
“Sure.” He was happy to hand over the whimpering girl. Lavinia seemed better equipped to extract something from her than he was.
She perched on the edge of the bed, pulled Dot into her lap and attempted to caress her cheek. Their niece turned away, intentionally thwarting Lavinia’s efforts. “Your mama loved Christmas so much. It’s not the same without her, is it?”
Dot sniffed several times, slowly lifted her head and gazed at Lavinia with red-rimmed eyes. “Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so. You came into the kitchen, saw me wearing your mama’s apron and baking Christmas treats like she did, and it made you sad, didn’t it?”
Dot nodded. “She was the bestest mama in the whole wide world, but she went away, and she’s never coming back.”
How did women do that? Know just what to say? He should have realized Dot was grieving.
Lavinia picked up the handkerchief lying on the quilt and tenderly blotted Dot’s tear-streaked cheeks. “She was a wonderful mother and loved you very much.”
“How do you know? You never comed here before.”
“She told me in her letters.”
“Why didn’t you come?”
Lavinia blinked several times as though keeping her own tears at bay. “I wanted to, but it’s a long trip, and...” She heaved a sigh.
Henry waited, as eager to hear what she would say as Dot was.
“My father wouldn’t let me.” Although the admission hadn’t come easily, she’d been honest with Dot.
“But you’re a grown-up. Can’t you do whatever you want?”
“I wish I could, but I still live with my father, and he...doesn’t always let me do what I want to do.”
Dot frowned. “That’s not nice.” She brightened. “But you’re here now, and I’m glad.”
“I am, too. Things will be different, but we’re going to have a very special Christmas.”
“And we’ll do all the things mama did, right? That’s what will make it special.”
Henry couldn’t have said it better himself. If only Lavinia felt the same way.
“Yes, sweetie, we will, and we’ll have lots of fun together.” She’d agreed. Better yet, it sounded like she meant what she’d said. Could it be she was realizing the value of the simple celebration the children were anticipating?
The front door flew open. “Aunt Livy! Uncle Henry! We’re home.”
Lavinia’s lovely face lit up as though the older children’s return was the highlight of her day. “Let’s go, Dot. I have something fun planned.”
They trooped down the stairs to the entryway where Norma stood with little Bobby balanced on her hip. She smiled. “We’re back, as I’m sure you noticed.”
“So you are. I’m delighted to see you. I have a surprise for all of the children in the kitchen.”
The youngsters peppered her with questions. “A surprise? What sort of surprise? Is it something to eat?”
She laughed. “If you’ll take off your coats and hats and head into the kitchen, you’ll see what it is.”
They shed them in a hurry and gathered around the kitchen table, with Norma watching from a distance. Lavinia showed the children the gingerbread triangles and demonstrated the decorating process, her excitement as evident as theirs.
Each of the girls set to work adding ornaments to a tree. Alex stood off to the side with his mouth and shoulders drooping. Henry felt for the boy. Being surrounded by girls all the time couldn’t be easy.
Lavinia rested a hand on their nephew’s shoulder. “I need to take care of the gingerbread that’s ready to come out of the oven, so I could use a careful person to squeeze the frosting on the trees that have cooled. Would you do that for me?”
Alex’s glum expression evaporated. “Yes, Aunt Livy. I’ll do a good job. I promise.” She might say she didn’t understand boys, but she was doing a great job with their nephew.
The kitchen was filled with childish chatter and sprinkled with a hearty portion of laughter as the girls placed colorful bits of candied fruit on the frosting zigzagging across the trees.
A rap on the front door sent Lavinia hurrying into the entryway. She said something to a man, although Henry couldn’t make out the words. She closed the door after the brief exchange, but instead of returning to the kitchen, her footfalls headed in the direction of the parlor.
Norma cast a curious glance toward the entryway and shifted her gaze to Henry. “If you’d like, I could supervise here.”
“Thanks.” He set down the tray of cookies, tossed the dish towel on the sideboard and strode to the parlor.
Lavinia sat hunched over on one end of the settee, her face slack, staring at a sheet of paper in her lap. She saw him, straightened and produced a weak smile. “From the sounds of it, the children are having a good time.”
“They are. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She let out a forced laugh that belied her statement. “I got
some news that wasn’t what I’d hoped for, that’s all, but I have other options.”
“Options for what?”
“A venue. Mr. Benedict had a change of plans, so I won’t be renting the hall after all.” She’d said the words as though she was talking about a minor inconvenience rather than a crushing blow.
“I can’t believe it.” Henry reined in the unexpected surge of anger and took a seat beside her. Her party wasn’t necessary, but he still didn’t like to see her hurting. “What did he say?”
“Here. You can see for yourself.”
He took the note and read the brief message.
December 19, 1860
Miss Crowne,
I regret to inform you that Mr. Benedict received a request from a business associate to rent his building here in Sutter Creek this coming weekend. The gentleman will be hosting his daughter’s wedding and will require the use of the entire building. Thus, the meeting hall won’t be available on Saturday after all. My apologies for any inconvenience this might cause you.
Sincerely,
Augustus Price, Attorney-at-Law
“Three days before your party, and Mr. Benedict does this?” Henry shook the paper. “That man has nerve. You told me you had an agreement in writing.”
“Only to the price. I neglected to ask for anything else. But things will work out, even if it means I have to make do with a smaller venue and hold two parties instead of one.” Determination shone in her eyes, currently as dark brown as Baker’s chocolate. She took the note he held out, wadded it into a ball and tossed it in the fire, watching wordlessly as the blaze devoured it.
“I’m sure they will.”
“I don’t want to disappoint the guests.”
Interesting. Up until now, she’d said she was holding the party for the children’s benefit. Had Dot’s tearful plea shifted her focus?
She picked up the nearest sofa pillow and twisted the fringe around her finger so tightly that it turned bright red.