The Southern Comfort Christmas: A Heartwarming Christmas Romance (Windy CIty Romance Book 6)

by Barbara Lohr

  “He was crying,” Bella continued. “Real loud. But Christie’s daddy took care of him. I guess just like Daddy took care of me when I was a baby. Right?”

  Smiling at her charge in the rearview mirror, Harper said, “Right.” Imagining Cameron coping with a crying baby touched a tender part of her heart.

  “A playdate,” Harper told Cameron later. “We’re coming up in the world.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He gave her a rueful smile. “And thanks for being the chauffeur. I hate to unload all this on you, darlin’.”

  “Aren’t we a team?” Harper didn’t mention the baby brother to Cameron. They’d decided to table that, which was probably smart thinking. She had enough on her plate, building her new business, and so did he.

  When Cameron came through the door the following Monday, he seemed to bring a wave of fresh pine with him. Bella came barreling from the foyer where she’d been playing with Pipsqueak, who followed, chasing a pinecone down the hall with her nose. “I've got a surprise for you, Bella,” Cameron announced with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “What is it?” Her daddy always had good surprises.

  Stepping aside, he held the door wide. Rick and one of the other guys from Cameron’s crews were lugging a huge pine tree up the steps. The sheer size of it left Harper in awe. It took some maneuvering to fit the monster tree through the french doors, leading from the verandah into the family room.

  “And here I thought I’d be going up to the attic soon to bring down the artificial tree,” she murmured.

  “Hey, girl.” Cameron’s brows drew together. “Have faith in your man, please.”

  Running her fingers over the soft, full needles, she was taken back to the magical days when her brothers and McKenna would help her dad set the tree in the stand. It took forever to decide how to angle it to hide bare spots, which were always few. And then they wired it to the wall, just to be sure, before arguing about which ornament went where.

  “The parlor’s down the hall, guys, on the right.” Cameron directed them. After they’d moved past, Harper pulled him into a pantry for a private moment. “You know you’re wonderful, right?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” he said with a cocky grin. “But I like hearing it.”

  She gave him a quick kiss before pushing him back toward the action. “Don’t let it go to your head, Boss Man.”

  The look he shot over his shoulder gave her shivers.

  Watching him disappear down the hall, Harper sent a quick SOS text to Julep. Do Patricia and her crew have any time to help with massive tree decorating?

  No problem. I’m on it. And sure enough, the following day Julep pulled up with Patricia and two young women who looked as if they could get this job done. Although Myra came once every other week to do the serious cleaning with Connie, they needed a bigger team for the tree.

  “Connie, I think our decorating reinforcements have arrived,” Harper said peeking from the kitchen window.

  “Thank goodness. That is the biggest tree I’ve ever seen.” Connie shook her head. “Jack said it looks like it’s growing right through the ceiling.”

  Of course, Julep had brought even more decorations for the doorways, the powder rooms and a million other places that Harper hadn't had time to consider yet.

  “Hey, you're good at this, Julep.” She looked at her friend with new respect when she stopped in the first floor powder room under the main staircase. The small narrow room had been transformed into a winter wonderland, its shelves and counter filled with musical snow globes.

  “You think so, sugga?” With glittery silver garland twirled around each arm, Julep looked like a pregnant Mother Christmas as she showed one of the girls how to loop the wiry strings over the powder room lights.

  “Absolutely. Maybe one day I’ll need a partner in my business. What do you think?”

  Tilting her head, Julep chuckled. “That all depends on the benefits.”

  “Maybe some sangria once you have that baby. You know, so you wouldn’t be so introverted.”

  “Right, that’s me.” And she gave Harper one of her saucy winks.

  The activity in the house felt good, but there was one task Harper had been putting off. Grabbing her folder from the hall table, she looked for Connie, who was arranging a crèche set with Bella in the library. Harper crooked a finger. “Connie, can I have a word with you?”

  “Sure.” Handing a wise man figurine to Bella, Connie wiped her hands on her apron and followed her to the kitchen. Harper took a deep breath. From the first moment she stepped into this mansion for that bachelor party, she’d had a special relationship with Connie. She sure didn’t want to screw it up now.

  Since she hadn't heard from Esther, she felt a lot might depend on settling the menu. Maybe Esther was waiting for some word from them. All this tiptoeing around was getting on Harper’s nerves. “We've asked Cameron's mother to, ah, be a part of the wedding.”

  “Wonderful. What a good idea. So they’re coming?”

  Harper licked her dry lips. “Yes, I hope so. I thought if Mrs. Blodgett was involved in the menu...”

  Connie looked at her as if she were speaking a different language. “You don't trust me?”

  “Of course we trust you. It's just that, well, I'm in a pickle.” Connie’s frown wasn’t something she saw very often. “I'm afraid Cameron’s relatives won't come unless his mother feels she has to be here to help. My back is against a wall.”

  Happy chatter drifted down the hall while Harper started to sweat. The look on her housekeeper’s face told Harper she was walking on eggshells.

  Harper handed her the list as if it might be radioactive.

  Face flushing, Connie bit her lower lip. She must be holding back words with that bite.

  Fumbling around, Harper flipped through her copy of Esther’s suggested menu, where she’d jotted down notes. “And Julep suggested we add hush puppies.”

  “Another deep-fried dish at a wedding?” She threw Harper a cautious look as if asking her to see some sense.

  The list of southern dishes might not be the usual wedding fare, but it sure looked better than tarragon chicken. Harper had to acknowledge it was different. Could she take some things off without hurting Esther's feelings?

  “Do you know how much those big fryers smell up the house when you do a deep-fried turkey? It’s not like roasting it in the oven where it smells so good.” Obviously Connie had strong feelings about this. Cameron had been right.

  Inhaling the scent of pine from that wonderful Christmas tree, Harper wondered. “Is it that terrible?”

  Connie’s nose twitched. “Cream of roasted garlic soup, barbecued ribs, deep-fried chicken, spicy hot black-eyed peas. Hoppin’ Johnny cakes?” Her voice slowed.

  Taking a pen, Harper scratched that one off. “Oh, Connie, she could never make hoppin’ Johnny cakes as good as yours. Let’s forget about that one.”

  “Cheesy cornbread. Coconut cake. Banana pudding?” Connie’s voice rose.

  Harper gave a silent groan. Seemed like trying to please everyone, she wasn’t making anyone happy. “We wanted to have a lowcountry meal, Connie. Thought it would be nice if my family tasted southern cooking.”

  Lordy, she was digging herself into a hole. If that was all her family wanted–– a lowcountry menu––they could just come and visit. Connie would cook a fabulous meal. Seconds ticked by, although the hands of the clock on the wall didn’t seem to move.

  Taking a deep breath, Connie finally said, “Everyone has a different recipe for Mississippi mud cake or red velvet cake.” Now wasn’t the time to tell Connie that most of these entrées did not have written recipes.

  Searching desperately for a diversion, Harper said, “Do you think we can put that deep fryer out on the veranda or in the garden?”

  Eyes sliding to the window, Connie muttered, “I’ll have to ask Jack where it will be safe.” She said it as if Harper had suggested putting a cannon in the yard.

  “I’d appreciate your help,
” Harper managed to squeak out.

  Connie’s attention fell back to the list. “Some good selections here, I guess. I do like okra and shrimp gumbo.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad you agree.” Get them saying yes. Wasn’t that what Cameron said? Usually Connie was her biggest ally. Facing off with her felt uncomfortable.

  “Anybody can make biscuits,” she huffed, sliding the list onto the counter.

  “Now I understand the problems Lincoln had in the 1800s,” Harper told Cameron that night when she was cleaning up the kitchen.

  “Food is a regional thing. Every pocket in the South cooks differently,” Cameron said. “I’m amazed that Mama sent you a list. That’s saying something. Maybe she is thinking of stopping by.”

  “It came from Lily.” No way was she portraying his mother as cooperative when she still hadn’t even RSVP’d for the wedding. Her stomach was tumbling. “Just looking at the menu makes my stomach feel a bit tippy. Barbecue cashews? Never heard of them. Boiled peanuts. Tried ‘em once. Not at the top of my list.”

  Coming up behind her, Cameron laced his arms around her waist. Her fingers traced the tendons in his biceps. Connie had gone home, and they’d finished a quick dinner of ham leftovers. Harper never realized a ham could stretch this far. She had to learn how to bake one. Suddenly they heard a strange sound out in the hallway. “What the heck?” She turned toward Cameron.

  They both rushed from the kitchen––well as fast as Cameron could rush–– to find Bella speeding toward them on the knee walker. “Look what I found in the hall closet!”

  Just what Harper needed. Glancing over, she sent Cameron the look. “You never did tell me where you put that thing.”

  Looking oh so innocent, Cameron shifted his shoulders. “Connie must've stowed it there. Glad someone found use for it.” Mischief glinted in his eyes. He must be feeling better.

  Cameron turned back to Bella, her eyes glowing with her discovery. “Best two out of three. I'll race you.” Disappearing into the library, he reappeared with some kind of stopwatch and handed it to Harper.

  “Sometimes I think you're never going to grow up,” she murmured, taking her place at the end of the hall.

  “Sometimes I think you like that.”

  He knew her way too well. “Ready?” She clicked the stopwatch.

  Chapter 18

  A few days later, Harper cornered Cameron after Rick dropped him off. Usually he loved to find her waiting for him. But usually she was smiling. This time her face was stormy. “I have to ask you. Is your mother coming or not?” Sliding a finger into a rip in her jeans, she looked upset. Watching Harper twist that finger through one of the shabby tears now fashionable, he couldn’t help thinking about the soft skin under her jeans.

  “Cameron? Are you listening?”

  Slinging his briefcase onto the nearest chair, he cleared his mind. With her hair in pigtails and that sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder, she looked terminally cute, as if she were eighteen again. He wished he'd known her then. Maybe someday, they’d have little girls who looked just like her.

  Whoa. Head spinning, he gripped the nearest chair.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Brushing her soft cheek with his knuckles, he said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Thinking about little Harpers had felt scary but exciting. “I heard you and Connie talking about the meal and thought it was a done deal.”

  Standing there wringing her hands, Harper said, “I don't want to say anything negative about your family, Cameron. But when it comes to your mother and siblings, I can't take anything for granted.” And she turned those pretty greenish-brown eyes to him in appeal.

  She was right. They were running out of time. Plans were being made. Why, Connie had sent Jack over to the hardware store for one of those mammoth deep fryers. Right now, it was taking up way too much room in his garage. Time to settle things.

  Rocking back on his good heel, he took out his phone and gave Harper a confident smile that only felt skin deep. She still looked skeptical. Darn thing rang and rang and he started to count, relieved when Mama picked up at fourteen.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded tentative, as if she wondered if the darn thing really worked.

  “Mama, it's me. Cameron. Why does it take fourteen rings for you to pick up?”

  “Oh, did it now?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “The sales people usually stop calling at five,” she said begrudgingly. “I want to know there’s a live person.”

  “Well, they could be dead by the time you say hello.”

  Harper put a hand over her mouth.

  “I just want those darn people selling stuff to forget I live here. How dare they call me when I don’t even know them.”

  That sounded so much like his mother that he burst out laughing. “Mama, I’ve got Harper here so I’m going to put you on speakerphone.” His darlin’ bride looked like she just might faint.

  Hands pulling at her neckline like Bella, she said, “Hello, Mrs. Blodgett.”

  Cameron rolled his eyes. That whole name thing annoyed him.

  “Hello, Harper. I trust you’re well?”

  This was definitely going to be a sit-down conversation, and he took a chair. “Mama, we were just wondering if everything is set now. You and the family are coming to the wedding, right?”

  “Well it is Christmas Eve, you know.”

  He pressed his fingertips into his closed eyelids. “Yes, it is Christmas Eve. December twenty-fourth and that’s when the wedding will be. I think you received a revised invitation?”

  “Yes, yes, I did.”

  “Are you saying you might have other plans?” Now that would be a first. As far back as he could remember, Christmas Eve was just like every other day in their house, except that his mother insisted his father go to church. They’d have a standoff. His father would come up with some lame excuse, like helping a friend out with a broken truck. But from the shape he was in when they got home from church, he'd been back in the woods at the still. That was just Homer Blodgett through and through. He’d ruined every damn Christmas in Cameron’s memory.

  “But where would we stay?” his mother asked.

  Harper nudged the phone closer to herself. “We have two guestrooms on the second floor,” she said. “Those would be nice for you, Lily and her husband.”

  Anticipating this issue, Cameron had asked Rick to work on it. “And as for Henry and Fred, one of my men has lined up some rental homes…”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “Let me finish. Some of my clients who have rentals not being used are lending me their homes.” That was pretty close to the truth.

  His mother sucked in a breath. “Well then, I’ll have to check with them.”

  Harper had grabbed a list from the counter and waved it as if his mother could see it. “And I want you to know that Connie said the menu was fine.”

  “Oh she did, did she?” The sharp edge was back in his mother’s voice, and he hated to see Harper squirm.

  “I mean, she thought it was just fine.” Trooper that she was, Harper kept in the game. Cameron gave her a thumbs up. “I did add just a couple of things. Items that you may have forgotten…”

  “I'm not known for forgetting things.”

  Good God. Cameron slid lower in his chair. Reaching over, Harper patted his hand. “No, I'm sure you’re not. I always remember that wonderful spread you had when, well, your husband passed away…” Okay, Harper looked like she wanted to choke those words back. But he loved the way his honey spoke her mind, even when it got her into trouble. Reaching out, he explored one of those torn places in her jeans.

  Turning back the corners of the list, Harper said, “I wonder if you and Lily could send us a list of the ingredients? You know, anything unusual. I want to make sure our pantry has what we need on that day.” She swatted at his hand.

  “Why, there's nothing on that list that’s unusual. Not for an experienced cook.”

 
; Cameron had to cover his eyes with the hand that was free. Thank God Connie had gone home for the day. “Mama, you can send that list to my email.”

  Silence. Harper glanced down and he nodded to tell her everything was all right. He was just glad that she hadn't met his family at very beginning, before she worked her miracle with Bella, before he'd fallen in love with her. She might have turned tail and run.

  “Thank you for doing that, Mama.”

  But Harper needed more. He could see it on her pale face. Forgetting his boyish fantasies for a moment, he smoothed her jeans with both hands. “Then you will be coming, Mrs. Blodgett?” She leaned over the phone, her body like a question mark.

  “Why, yes. Of course. Just one more thing. How fancy will this be?” Had that been the problem all along? His mother was worried about what to wear?

  “Just wear that red sweater you wear every Christmas.”

  “That old thing?” Mama didn’t sound convinced.

  “You look beautiful in it.” Lily had given her a beaded sweater one holiday season. She wore it proudly every year. Had some kind of bird on it. “After all, this is a Christmas wedding.”

  “Well, all right, son. Then I guess it’s all settled.”

  Harper pumped a fist, the color flooding back into her face. When they all said good-bye, Cameron felt as if they’d just wrapped up a summit conference in Geneva.

  Soaked through, his shirt felt clammy. “Look at me,” he said, standing up and pulling the damp material away from his body. “You’d think I’d been laying bricks.”

  “Well it’s your family,” Harper said with a laugh. Then a strange look came over her face. “But it's going to be mine.”

  “Does it scare you?” Encircling her with his arms, he wanted to protect her.

  “Sometimes.” Knotting her fingers on his chest, she looked lost.

  “Do I scare you, sugga?”

  Her face relaxed. “Are you kidding?”

  She looked so darn cute. He bent to kiss the lips that had sealed a deal with his mother. He was getting cozy, thinking about those jeans again, when she pushed away. “Eeew. You’re all sweaty.”

  “So that’s how it is, darlin’?” Rocking her in his arms, he whispered, “Oh, I remember when you told me you liked sweaty.”