Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He took the pitchers from her arms and carried them to a table and set them beside a large washbowl. “I didn’t expect you’d be working here so late.” He could not think of what else to say.

  She remained silent, her shoulders tense.

  “Do you need help with anything else?” he asked.

  Her dark gaze met his. “No, thank you. Mrs. Wilkes went to see about Maggie Henderson. She is about to deliver.”

  The news shook him. Although there was little he could do to help, Donald would be beside himself with worry. “I didn’t know.” Mentally, he calculated how long it would take him to get to the Hendersons. It would be two hours, at least, to get there, by the time he went to the stables to retrieve his horse.

  “What time did she leave?”

  “Early this morning. The babe should be born by now. I assume she’s spending the night there to ensure Maggie and the child are well.”

  She studied him and her lips curved. “I wouldn’t worry about going there now. Morning will be soon enough.”

  The words reassured him. “I planned to stay here tonight after...after speaking to you.”

  “Oh.”

  “I went by the Withers’ and was informed you were still here.”

  Christina stiffened, once again, giving him the impression she expected what he’d come to say. Perhaps Mrs. Withers had already informed her of his plans. If that was the case then it should make things easier. However, it did not. He was a coward. Less than a gentleman for putting the woman into an uncertain situation.

  “Whatever you are thinking, perhaps you should say it.” She lifted a brow in challenge.

  “I received your letter.”

  Her hand hesitated over the bowls she’d just placed down before Christina moved to the small table and lowered into a chair. “I see.”

  “I wish to explain to you the reasons for my decision to...”

  “Alexander, you owe me no explanations. I came without waiting for your reply. It is I who put you in this awkward situation. There is no need to feel badly.” She attempted at a smile, her quivering lips finally falling into a tight line. “If that is all, I must go. It is quite late and I have to return early tomorrow.”

  She’d called him Alexander. His name sounded beautiful in the way she pronounced it. Barrett wished for her to repeat it. Instead, he covered her hands with his. “Please, allow me to speak.”

  Seconds passed before she finally nodded. “Very well.”

  “I am missing the bottom half of my right leg.” He had to clear his throat to continue. “Above my hip and across the front of my stomach, my body was ravaged by gunshots and cannon fire.”

  Christina cocked her head to the side and let out a breath as if bored by his words. “Please continue.”

  “I am in pain daily, require hot baths and regular tending that Mayme helps with. So you see, these are burdens I don’t wish to place upon you. It wouldn’t be fair. If things were different, I would not have hesitated to marry you. But placing the ad was a mistake. A big error on my part.”

  A few moments passed of silence as he allowed her to absorb his words. She looked down to their joined hands. He prayed she’d not pull away. At least once, he wanted to hold a part of her.

  “Women are so much stronger than men give us credit for. It never ceases to amaze me how often our supposed weaknesses are used as an excuse to abandon, neglect and abuse us. You see, Alexander, I have survived each of those things already and now I find myself without options. Not just because of your decision, but also because of my father’s choice to abuse and give me away for his gain. I do not hold a grudge against you. As a matter of fact, I appreciate that you would divulge what you consider would be a burden to me. However, let me tell you this. You do not fool me for one second. I see your strength, your ability to do more than many men I’ve known. One day, you will be a good husband, father and more. That you choose not to share your life with me has nothing to do with your incapacities, but everything to do with your lack of wanting me. Let’s not sugar coat things, please.”

  She slipped her hands out from under his. “I beg we do not speak about this again.” Her back straight, she went to the door and lifted a cloak from the peg next to it. With one last look to him over her shoulder, she went out into the now darkened evening.

  Barrett closed his eyes, the aches in his chest much stronger than his right side. Instead of feeling relief at his decision, he wanted to run out after her. Tell her he’d made a huge mistake in allowing her to go. It wouldn’t be long before she married someone else. Perhaps the man she was meant to. “Damn!” he exclaimed out loud. Fella lifted his head from where he lay curled next to the stove and gave him a look that echoed with his heart. How would he withstand seeing her with someone else, knowing she’d come here to marry him?

  “Christina?” Olive put out a hand to stop her as she walked into the house. Much too weary to protest, she allowed herself to be led to a couch. Olive sat next to her. “Have you been crying?”

  “I spoke to Alex...Barrett. We spoke. I relieved him of any obligation to me.”

  “I see.” Olive patted her shoulder. “I am convinced he is only acting out of insecurity. I maintain hope he will change his mind.”

  She wanted to scream. Why would the man change his mind? Thinking back, he must have been informed of what happened at the hotel. No doubt, he believed the woman, Cornelia. That, along with perhaps him not finding her appealing were the only reasons she could fathom his not wanting to marry her. Why did everyone insist on making excuses?

  Some people were not meant for a better life, nor destined for happiness. Even when others interceded with the best of intentions, nothing could be done about destiny. Hers was clear. Christina was convinced now that her lot was to accept what came without question. Dreams and hopes were for other, more fortunate people.

  It had been for the best, perhaps, that her father taught her over the years to not expect more than a repetitive existence of monotony and solitude. When the most handsome man she’d ever met would rather remain alone than be tied to her, it was a message she planned to heed.

  “I will write Lady Price’s acquaintance in Montana. She can find me a suitable husband. I do not wish to remain here.”

  “It is up to you, of course. However, I must inform you of a gentleman caller this afternoon. John Carver, the barber’s son and also a barber, has requested permission to call on you tomorrow afternoon.”

  She remembered him. The man with the long mustache and rather stiff demeanor who’d introduced himself after Sunday service.

  “He did?”

  “Why, yes. He is very anxious to make your acquaintance. That’s what he said.” Olive’s pursed lips made it obvious she was not overly enthused at her caller’s interest.

  “What do you think, Olive? I am so confused right now. I fear not making correct decisions. So much is happening. However, I do not want to tarry here longer than absolutely necessary.”

  Her friend straightened, the candlelight softening the gray streaks in her hair. Christina loved Olive’s hair. “Under no circumstance will you use your staying here as an excuse. Judge and I are more than happy to have you. As a matter of fact, I have more company now than I ever did, as he seems to prefer speaking to his hounds most evenings.” She gave her husband, who slept in a chair next to the fireplace, a quick glance. “Or he pretends to read while sleeping until it’s time for bed.” She chuckled softly.

  “Mr. Carver is welcome to call on me. Thank you.” Christina leaned forward and kissed Olive’s soft cheek. “You are my dearest friend. I am so thankful to have met you.”

  “She deserves better than that stiff excuse,” Judge mumbled when Christina left the room. “Perhaps it is time I speak to Barrett. It won’t do for him to shirk his responsibilities to that girl.”

  “I thought you were asleep,” Olive said, smiling at her husband.

  “I have been reading.”

  “Mmm hmm.”
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  CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next day, leaving Mrs. Wilkes’, the time to entertain came much too quickly. Christina sat in the parlor with John Carver in a chair to her left. Nan had been kind enough to serve coffee and pastries, for which she had no appetite.

  The man sat straight as a board. It made Christina wonder if perhaps he suffered some sort of back injury. Mimicking him, she pushed her shoulders back ensuring her posture was erect. Something about him made it seem inadequate to sit otherwise.

  “I hope not to be too forward in asking your company for a stroll about the town square tomorrow.” He lifted his coffee and peered at her over the brim.

  Sure her eyes had rounded, she schooled a pleasant expression. This man could very well be her only choice of a husband. If this was the case, it behooved her to be amenable. “I…”

  “Ah, there you are,” Judge interrupted, his hounds dashing into the room, pushing each other out of the way to garner Christina’s first pat on the head. “Oh, I do apologize. I wasn’t aware we had company.”

  Christina pushed her lips together. Judge very well knew she expected a caller. He’d been at the table when she’d spoken to Nan and Olive about it over breakfast.

  He continued without hesitation. “I do say, John, you’re doing a grand job. Why I saw Barrett this morning and he was right pleased with his cut.”

  Judge’s gaze moved to Christina. “Dear girl, I hate to bother you, but Nan has gone and I cannot find the bones she promised to put aside for the dogs.”

  “Of course.” Unsure of what Judge was up to, yet grateful for the reprieve of having to reply to John Carver’s request, she left the room with haste, the hounds on her heels.

  The bones were wrapped and set out on the counter. Christina doled one to each dog wagging their tails. They happily settled onto the floor with the treats. She slowly made her way back.

  John Carver stood at the door with his hat in hand, the Judge next to him. “I beg your pardon, Miss Mills. I will do my best to call on you soonest.” He gave her a quick nod and hurried out.

  “What happened?” Christian eyed the judge. He looked up at the ceiling.

  Judge huffed and shook his head. “He is too much of a dandy for you. I told him a rather odd character was outside the barbershop asking for him by name and stating he knew the reason he’d returned.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Of course.” Judge walked to his favorite chair.

  “A stranger. Very odd, don’t you think?”

  “I must read for a bit before heading to a meeting in an hour. If you will excuse me.” He rounded her, not making eye contact.

  Christina fought not to smile. It seemed she’d found champions in Olive and her husband.

  That night she peered out at the moon and reached under her pillow. She unwrapped the sprig from the delicate embroidered pouch and held it for a long moment. Any help would be appreciated. At this point she felt with little recourse but to wish for a husband who would be the best match for her. The berry came off easily as she plucked it and put it into her mouth. It felt silly to place one’s hope in such impractical things. However, as she fell asleep a calm fell over Christina and she slept very well.

  A newborn in her arms did not stop Maggie from holding a hand out to Barrett as he entered the room. “There you are. I have been waiting for you to meet your goddaughter.”

  He neared the bed and peered down at the pink face. “What is her name?”

  “It’s so near to Christmas, we’ve decided to name her Noelle Grace. Grace after Donald’s mother.”

  Barrett slid the back of his hand along the infant’s soft cheek. “She’s beautiful.”

  Maggie beamed. “She is, isn’t she?” She motioned to a chair. “I must speak to you. There is much to discuss.”

  “Oh?” Barrett wasn’t sure what could possibly be on Maggie’s mind. Her parents were there, her father out with Donald and Jack to see about feeding the cows and horses and Maggie’s mother in the kitchen preparing a stew. So Maggie did not need for anything at the moment.

  “What is this I hear? You of all men, not keeping his word? You must remedy the situation at once.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Never you mind how I get my information. But I only have one thing to say.” Maggie took a moment to breathe and kiss her daughter’s face. “You will see about Miss Mills soonest and make amends.”

  Barrett could only blink in response as he racked his brain, attempting to learn how Maggie could possibly know. Mrs. Wilkes had been gone when he’d spoken to Christina.

  Then he remembered. Mayme must have spoken to the mayor’s wife at church. Darn it, he’d not considered word getting to anyone, much less Maggie.

  “I have very good reasons for this...” he started.

  “Nonsense,” Maggie interrupted. “The only reason you are wary of marrying Miss Mills is she scares you. I’ve heard she is beautiful. In my opinion, there shouldn’t be so much beauty in a couple. But in this case, I have to agree with Mayme, you seem perfect for each other.”

  “May I speak now?” He lifted both brows to make his point.

  After an overly long sigh, Maggie nodded. “Very well.”

  “What will happen when I get older? I won’t be able to provide for a wife. I can barely take care of the necessities of everyday life right now. I’m not healing, Maggie. My bones didn’t heal properly. They will remain a constant reminder of my inability to ever be normal.” He paused. “I want to marry her, believe me, more than anything. But I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Is this what she thinks? Have you asked her?” Maggie waited and when he didn’t respond, she continued. “You have not because you are scared she’s willing to accept you as you are. Perhaps you’re right, Barrett. Because you know what? It’s hard to believe others find no fault in you, when you do.”

  Christina’s words returned. “Women are so much stronger than men give us credit for.” Here Maggie had just spent hours in excruciating pain giving birth. Now she not only glowed with happiness, but also was strong enough to give him a resounding talking to. How had he missed knowing the superhuman strength in the so-called weaker sex?

  “I should allow you to rest.”

  Maggie allowed him the reprieve and smiled. “Come kiss me and your goddaughter.”

  He bent over the bed and kissed both jaws. Maggie’s eyes began to droop. “I expect Noelle Grace to be gifted with a godmother for Christmas.” Her last word was soft as she could barely stay awake.

  “Sleep, dear lady. Your work is done for the day.” Barrett lifted the sleeping infant and placed the bundled girl next to Maggie to allow them both more comfort.

  Instantly, without opening her eyes, Maggie gathered her infant to her side.

  The day had become colder by the time Barrett prepared to head home. The snowflakes falling twinkled in the setting sun’s rays as if tiny lanterns from heaven.

  Donald came to the doorway, his bright eyes wide. “I’ll be seeing you soon. Come back and visit Maggie.”

  “Goes unsaid, friend. You’ll grow tired of me being here,” Barrett replied with a smile.

  Upon reaching his house, Fella barked and rushed to the tree line ignoring his calls. “Fella, I’m not in the mood for games. It’s getting late,” he called out.

  Barrett’s hands tightened on his shotgun as he made his way to where Fella disappeared. “Fella. Come.”

  Just inside the tree line, Fella stood. The fur on his back was on end as the dog sniffed the air.

  Figuring a dead animal, Barrett neared. “Fella, what has gotten into you?”

  A shimmer caught his eye. At the base of the tree was a perfectly folded blanket and upon it was a nugget of gold half the size of his fist.

  Barrett looked around, scanning the area. Surely, this was some sort of trick. His boots crunched as he walked closer to scan for footprints. Other than Fella’s, there we
re none, the snow would have covered any by now if the items had been deposited earlier.

  It was then he noticed the corner of the blanket had been chewed off. It was his blanket, the one he’d given to the stranger who’d stopped by that one night. When Fella was a puppy, he’d chewed on it.

  A sensation of warmth engulfed Barrett, like standing too near a fire, but this heat came from within. He understood what happened on some level, yet at the same time, it humbled him that his good deed was repaid.

  When a tear slipped down his cheek, he brushed it away. It didn’t matter how this happened or why.

  Walking back with his precious cargo and Fella at his side, he couldn't help but wonder if this was a Christmas miracle or if the tale of the ghost miner was true. Either way, what mattered at the moment was knowing he’d done right by someone.

  CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Eudora Wilkes’ eyes twinkled with mirth upon hearing Christina’s tale of how her first gentleman caller was sent away by the Judge. Although it was somewhat comical, Christina wondered if they’d shoo away any other suitors. As much as she delighted in the Withers’ company and was comfortable living in their home, the time would soon come when she’d be forced to either marry or move away.

  “I am not sure if I should be grateful or plan on becoming a spinster living with the Withers forever,” Christina said making Eudora laugh again.

  “If ever there are good people, it’s them. I wouldn’t go worrin’ about your future. Judge and Olive will ensure you will find the perfect husband.” Eudora shook her head and huffed.

  “I am not sure whether to assume it’s a good or bad thing at the moment. Once the holidays are over, I will speak to them about my future plans.”

  The woman patted her hand and smiled. “I pray for my Baby to change his mind. He’ll be right upset when he comes to his senses and realizes what a mistake he’s made letting you go. Just hope it ain’t after your settled with someone else.”