Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Christina doubted Barrett would change his mind. It had been almost a week since he’d stopped by there, unless he did so after ensuring she was gone. It suited her fine. Best not to see him for a while yet.

  “I plan to purchase some fabric and make a dress. I haven’t sewn a dress in a long time. I wore the same ones for the last couple years, which were made for me back home.”

  “Laddie will help you. She’s a good seamstress. Not sure why the child insists on working here when she could make more money sewing for folks.”

  As usual spending time with Eudora made Christina glad to have met the woman. “Thank you for everything. I best go on now.”

  Her serviceable boots crunched with each step sinking into the white blanket of snow on the ground as Christina ambled toward the general store to purchase a few things.

  The first heavy snowfall coated the buildings and nearby hills of Blanchard Creek as the week of Christmas arrived. Almost every doorway and window in town was decorated with garlands braided and looped with materials ranging from evergreen branches to burlap strips.

  In the town square, a bandstand was built for the festivities and a large pile of wood had been set up for a bonfire.

  Just a few days before celebrating her first Christmas away from home and it barely bothered Christina to be gone from Pennsylvania.

  With each day that passed, she couldn't help but feel apathy for her parents. Her father for his lack of feelings and her mother for being so weak and not escaping along with her. Instead, Norma Mills preferred to linger in bed, being taken care of while just a few feet away remained a gate to freedom.

  Several women had gathered in front of the mercantile. Upon spotting Cornelia Bloom, Christina considered forgoing her plans to shop.

  Instead, she squared her shoulders and continued.

  “Good morning, Christina,” Pearl Sullivan, the mercantile owner’s wife, greeted her. “How are things at Mrs. Wilkes’?”

  She greeted the group, which included Cornelia and another woman she didn’t know. “Things are well. Very busy.”

  “I do enjoy stopping by there every once in a while for a bite. She makes the best chicken,” the other woman stated and then held out her hand. “I am Gertrude Ardmore.”

  Gertrude wore her hair pulled back tight under a small black hat. Spectacles perched on her tiny nose, she was the no-nonsense type. She wore a gray dress that buttoned tightly around her throat, making Christina wondered how the woman could swallow.

  “Nice to see you, ladies.” Christina ignored Cornelia, who’d yet to utter a word.

  Once inside the mercantile, Christina lowered her shoulders, glad to be away from the hotel owner’s wife. Although she’d not said a word, Cornelia had glared at her the entire time. How the woman believed her husband when she’d walked in on Christina defending herself was puzzling. Then again, perhaps the woman was to be pitied. If she didn’t have resources or family, it could be staying married was her only choice.

  Uneven footsteps sounded and Christina felt a shiver of apprehension. Lord, let it not be Barrett. She’d managed to avoid him for over a week and hoped to continue doing so.

  However, when his deep voice sounded, she knew the day of facing him since the last time they’d spoken had arrived.

  “How are you, Christina?”

  The fabric in her hand crumpled as she drew her fingers around it, needing the safety of something solid. “Alex...Barrett.”

  He neared. Although he kept a proper distance, it was too close. Christina hoped he would not notice her struggle to breathe normally. “I rather like how my given name sounds when you say it. Please, call me Alexander.”

  When their gazes met, there was something she could not decipher in his. “Why do you go by Barrett here?”

  “I suppose an attempt to distance myself from the old me.”

  To an observer, they would seem like two acquaintances greeting each other. But upon closer inspection, they’d noticed the overlong looks, the nervous way Barrett rubbed his hand over the top of the cane and the slight flair to Christina’s nostrils as she attempted to portray calmness.

  “Are you prepared for the upcoming winter?” Christina asked as she’d heard most who lived outside of town would not be able to travel there once the winter set in.

  “I don’t live so far that it would keep me from coming here if need be. Although it can be rather treacherous come January.” He looked around the mercantile. “I do plan to start purchasing what I will need, just to be safe.”

  “Of course.” Christina studied his handsome face as he looked to the fabrics. He was truly too beautiful for words. A part of her, the rebel within, ached to reach out and touch him.

  His heavily lashed eyes moved to her face. “Christina, I- - I am not sure I made the right decision.”

  As her lips parted, she felt her eyes round. For a long beat, they looked to each other. A part of her wanted to urge him to continue, but she’d not allow him to give her hope of something not likely to happen.

  “I’m so sorry. I lingered too long talking to the ladies.” Pearl hurried over to stand beside Barrett. “I have the items you ordered. I’ll get them for you.” She continued to the counter, leaving them to once again speak.

  “Can I walk you home?” Barrett asked.

  What she wanted was to not have to be reminded he’d rather not marry her. Had he truly changed his mind or just wished to discuss the reasons why he’d not marry her again?

  “Yes, of course.” Her hand trembled as she pushed a loose trendil away from her overheated face. “I won’t be too long.”

  His lips curved. “Take your time. I have to gather some items as well.”

  After purchasing blue calico and buttons to make a simple dress, Christina paid with the money she’d earned from Mrs. Wilkes.

  Her situation although not prosperous by any means, was not as dire as when first arriving. In her trunk, she’d found the money from her mother that she’d hidden before leaving Philadelphia. When she’d tried to pay the Withers’ for their hospitality, they’d declined with vigor. So now she had a bit of money at her disposal and it felt reassuring.

  Barrett, with Fella, waited for her outside when she walked out of the mercantile and Christina took his proffered arm. He was much taller than her, her head at his wide shoulders. After a few steps he turned to her. “Are you warm enough? I am sorry I cannot help with your parcels.” He looked to his cane.

  “I am warm enough. It’s only fabric.” Christina looked up at him. “I hear it gets much colder here than Pennsylvania.”

  He nodded. “The wind coming off the mountains can be frigid. However, since we’re in a valley, I believe Blanchard Creek is protected and not as cold as other parts.”

  Being less frank was one thing she’d always struggled with. Her father had backhanded her often due to her penchant for blurting her mind. “I appreciate you walking me home. Please do not feel you have to be overly accommodating with me because of what happened. I do hope in the future to see you as a friend, but I hope you understand it is a bit hard for me, as yet, to see you as such. I will strive for it.”

  His Adam’s apple moved up and down, his eyes downcast. He stopped walking just as they reached the Withers’ house and turned to her. His gaze lingered on her lips before meeting hers. “I don’t wish to be your friend, Christina. I hope to convince you to forgive my thoughtlessness and lack of honor, and accept my offer of marriage.”

  The ground swayed and Christina could only stare at him dumbfounded. “Why are you asking me this? Has Judge spoken to you? If he’s threatened you in any way, let me assure you he won’t follow through. He’s decided to become my champion. I’m sure he means well.”

  His lips curved and her breath hitched. “Not only has Judge spoken to me, but also Miss Withers, Mayme and Maggie. Yesterday, Jack Henderson threatened to marry you himself if I didn’t come see about you.” Barrett let out a breath. “Christina, I ask you consider forgiving
me and to accept me as your husband.”

  “You shouldn’t allow others to push you into something you don’t wish.” Christina’s trembling legs barely carried her to the top of the stairs.

  Barrett remained at her side. “What they did was point out what a fool I’ve been. I want nothing more than to be your husband.”

  When they crossed the threshold into the house, Olive stood in the parlor, a wide smile on her face. She pointed above their heads.

  Mistletoe.

  With rounded eyes, Christina shook her head hoping her friend would help her out of the awkward situation. Instead Olive grinned wider. “You have to kiss. It’s good luck.”

  Barrett chuckled and pressed a quick, soft kiss to her lips. His warm gaze met hers. “I’ll give you a day to decide. Accept my offer to become a bride by Christmas.” He turned to a beaming Olive. “I hope you will help me convince Christina to forgive me and accept my proposal.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Olive exclaimed and the Judge stirred awake in his chair. Immediately upon spotting Barrett, he leaned forward and grinned.

  “I think we should have some wine to celebrate.” The mayor stood and walked to a side table.

  “Dear, she hasn’t accepted his proposal yet,” Olive said, her gaze not leaving Christina.

  It was ridiculous to wait to give her reply. She already knew the man beside would be her husband. “I don’t need to wait a day, Alexander.” Christina turned to face him. “I will marry you.”

  In that moment, her breath left as his lips curved and his heated gaze clashed with hers.

  “Now can I pour?” Judge asked.

  Olive laughed. “Yes, dear. Pour plenty for me.”

  They joined the Withers’ in the parlor and accepted small glasses of sherry. Judge lifted his glass. “To marriage and happiness.”

  Nan rushed in drying her hands. “What am I missing?”

  “One for Nan,” Judge poured her a glass. “Christina and Barrett have decided to marry.”

  “How wonderful, Nan looked to Christina and sniffed. “And here I was hoping he’d marry me.” The older woman faked a sorrowful look and downed her drink as everyone laughed.

  Barrett lingered for a few minutes as they discussed the wedding plans with the Withers. His hand constantly hovered over hers.

  They’d get married in two days, on December twenty-third, so not to interfere with the festivities and to ensure Christina was settled into Barrett’s home by Christmas. Her stomach tumbled at the thought. Everything here in the west moved so much faster. People set whatever pace they decided was best for their lifestyle.

  She would be Barrett’s wife. The reality of it had yet to sink in fully.

  Seeming to sense her nervousness, Barrett squeezed her hand. Immediately, a sense of assurance warmed her and she realized what it meant to be someone’s wife. A husband was a partner to support and reassure. Christina vowed to do the same for him. If ever Barrett needed anything she would be there for him.

  Later after super, she walked with Barrett to the door as the Withers and Nan mysteriously disappeared to see about something or another. Fella and the Judge’s hounds slept soundly by the hearth until Barrett whistled. His dog stood and shook before trotting to his master.

  “I look forward to a life with you Christina.” His eyes lingered on her face. “You are kind and gracious woman to accept me.”

  This time when Barrett’s mouth covered hers, the kiss was less than chaste. He held her shoulders and his lips lingered over hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as unfamiliar sensations traveled throughout her body.

  There was a curve to his lips when he finally moved away just enough to keep from kissing her again. “I look forward to kissing you many more times.” With one last quick peck, he opened the door and she stood in the entranceway not caring about the cold as she watched him walk toward the stables.

  When Christina woke on her wedding day, she was giddy with excitement. Too anxious to remain in bed she pulled her long shawl over her shoulders and floated down the stairs to the still dark kitchen. Within minutes she had made coffee and was flipping pancakes in the cast iron skillet while thick bacon sizzled beside in a different pan.

  “My goodness. I expected you’d be resting until late today.” Nan entered the kitchen with a bright smile. “I thought perhaps fairies had appeared to make breakfast.”

  Christina smiled at the kind woman. “Sit. I will serve you.”

  “I woke up hungry,” Olive entered the kitchen. “What amazing smells.”

  The three women sat around the table and Christina looked from one face to the other. “I can’t believe it’s my last morning here. I will miss you both so very much.”

  “Don’t start,” Olive said blinking rapidly. “You won’t be so far.”

  “Promise you will come and visit whenever Barrett comes to town,” Nan said.

  “She better stop by, the hounds will be angry otherwise,” Judge added from the door, his gaze on the stack of pancakes. “I hoped you three had not eaten whatever smelled so good.”

  Later that day, standing in the Wither’s sitting room with Judge in front of them and surrounded by friends, Christina and Barrett exchanged vows.

  Wearing a neatly pressed white shirt, his hair combed back, Barrett stood tall and proud his gaze rarely leaving Christina’s face.

  A few times she stumbled over the words barely able to catch her breath between nerves and excitement. Finally they were pronounced husband and wife by the over exuberant Judge who then announced. “Kiss your wife Barrett.”

  Barrett complied lingering a bit too long until everyone began to laugh. Red-faced Christina pushed him away.

  The wedding had been small, besides Judge, Olive and Rose Withers and Nan, Mrs. Wilkes and Laddie were also in attendance.

  After moving to the dining room to a delicious meal, which both Nan and Eudora cooked, they sat around the table and much to Christina’s delight, were given gifts from each person.

  The Withers gave them a beautiful set of dinner dishes, Eudora a set of woven baskets and Nan a beautiful embroidered tablecloth. Rose Withers looked to Judge and he handed a piece of paper to Barrett.

  “What is this?” He unrolled the parchment and his mouth fell open. “Twenty acres.”

  Rose sniffed and looked down her nose as if annoyed by his question. “I have no need for the land next to where you live. The way I see it, once you have children, you’ll need more land to either build a bigger house or farm. My gift to you both.” Her gaze warmed at meeting Christina. “Repay me by making this lovely girl happy.”

  Christina began crying and she rushed over to hug the older woman who surprised her by wiping a tear. “You are a dear girl.”

  “Well look what you’ve done mother. The rest of the women are all crying now.”

  Rose gave her son a droll look. “Don’t just sit there, get everyone some wine. Let’s toast to this delightful occasion.”

  An hour later, Christina’s belongings were loaded to the back of a carriage Barrett had borrowed from the Withers’. He then assisted her to climb up and settle into the comfortable seat.

  Christina, still dressed in the fine dress she’d been gifted by Lady Price, could not stop smiling, especially at Barrett’s overly warm gazes, which made her feel extra beautiful that day.

  He drove the carriage while she rode inside with Fella for company.

  Other than descriptions of his home by Olive, Christina had no idea what to expect.

  As he’d described their home was not far from town, the carriage slowed and Christina peered out the window. A log house came into view, as well as two buildings, one a barn, the other had to be Barrett’s workshop. It was a nice parcel of land with a small pond circled by trees. On the nearby hillside were several cows and, in a corral next to the house, a lone horse watched them approach.

  Christina stood next to the hearth as the fire warmed the open space of the house. The furnishings were astonishingly beautiful y
et simple. Upon entering, along the left wall there was a coat rack and a waist high dark stained side table. Above the side table an oval mirror. On the right was a living room large enough to house a low square table flanked by a pair of chairs and a long couch. Each chair had a thick blanket thrown over the back.

  A rocker was placed next to the hearth. Beside it rested a small table with a lantern atop it.

  The smooth lines of the chairs proved a perfect companion to the tables and such. In the dining room, there was a long table with six chairs and a large hutch cabinet.

  “The bedroom is over here, if you need to change or anything.” Barrett walked through the living room to a doorway. “Your trunk is in there.”

  Christina took tentative steps behind him, her gaze following the contours of his body. What did he really look like without clothing? Would it affect her to the point of it ruining their first night together? She’d already begun to care for him and would never want to hurt him in any way.

  “Keep your eyes on his face,” Olive had instructed. “And before anything happens, kiss him. Ask him to hold you. Once you relax and feel comfortable with his touch, things will be much easier.”

  They stood awkwardly beside each other unsure of what to do next. Although the sun had begun to fall, it seemed much too early to go to bed. “Do you need help with anything?” Christina could not think of anything to ask. He’d refused her help in dragging her trunk into the bedroom.

  “No, thank you,” he replied and smiled softly. “I’ll pour us a glass of sherry.”

  She touched his upper arm. “What do you usually do in the evenings?”

  “I read by the fire with Fella. Sometimes I whittle or do whatever mending I need to do.”

  A chuckle escaped. “I have a hard time picturing you sewing.”

  “I have a hard time doing it.”

  “I’ll change and join you in the front room if that is all right?”

  Barrett nodded. “All right. Not sure it’s what people do on their wedding night, but it’s acceptable to me.”