by Hall, Karen
“Mister Dillon! Yoo-hoo, Mister Dillon!”
They turned, and Jake’s mouth fell open as the tall, buxom brunette in an oversized hat and white fur-collared coat rushed forward, arms outstretched. A slender woman, carrying a large carpetbag, staggered behind her.
“Miss Carson?” Jake gasped.
“Yes, it’s me!” she chirped. “Surprise!”
“But what are you doing here?”
She clutched her gloved hands together. “The Manhattan papers said the weather here might be terrible! So I says to myself, Bertha, you can’t miss a Christmas with your Cyrus! So me and Daisy--”she pointed at the woman who had stopped and put down the carpetbag--”caught the last train from Union Station for Tennessee, and here we are!”
She fluttered her eyelashes and gave Victoria a friendly smile. “Hello,” she said. “Who are you?”
Shoulders shaking with what must be silent laughter, Victoria held out her hand, and said, “I’m Victoria Hawthorne, Miss Carmichael. Welcome to Tyler, Tennessee.”
Chapter Five
He kissed you. Jake Dillon kissed you.
“Victoria, did you hear what I asked?”
Victoria blinked. “Sorry, Mama. I put Daisy in one of the empty bedrooms in the servants’ quarters. She seemed awfully pleased to have a bathroom to herself.”
“But where are we going to put her?” Her mother stared in dismay as a cooing Bertha Carson hovered around a now fully awake Cyrus Higginbotham, propped against a mountain of pillows on the parlor sofa. From the man’s expression, he was obviously enjoying her attentions. Alfred waited in the corner, awaiting instructions.
“If the boys aren’t going to be able to make it, we can put her in one of their rooms,” James suggested. “Are you sure the station master said there would likely be no more trains arriving today, Victoria?”
“Yes, Papa.” Victoria covered her mouth to stop the giggle hovering behind her lips. Cyrus Higginbotham looked as happy as a pig in a July mud pond. She shot a glance at Jake. The merriment sparkling in his eyes proved he shared her mirth.
Then the merriment vanished, and something else
sparkled there. A something that sent a tingle racing over Victoria’s skin. “And Miss Carson can help entertain Mr. Higginbotham during the holidays,” she said aloud.
“Hey, listen.” Bertha rose from her place on the sofa and came forward. “I know my coming is a surprise, but if my staying here is gonna be a problem, then I can stay at a hotel.”
“I won’t here of it,” Papa said hastily. “We have plenty of room, don’t we, Mary?”
“Mister Higginbotham wouldn’t be happy if you weren’t here to help take care of him,” Mama said politely, but Victoria heard the resignation in her voice. Mama didn’t like to be caught off guard.
Bertha gave them a glittering smile. “That’s alright, then.” She glanced around the room. “Don’t you folks have a Christmas tree?”
“We were going to go find one until I fell down the steps,” Cyrus grumbled. “Now I’ve gone and ruined that and everyone’s holiday.”
A chorus of denial filled the room. “I’ll send Henry after one,” Papa said when the noise died away. “I’d send Victoria with him, but she has a rehearsal this evening for tomorrow night’s school Christmas pageant, don’t you my dear?”
“Goodness,” Victoria gasped. “I’d nearly forgotten that in all the excitement.” Being kissed by Jake Dillon again after all these years could do that to a girl.
“Well, I think I better go see about dinner,” Mama announced. “James, after we eat, perhaps Alfred can help Henry set up a bed for Mister Higginbotham in the old sewing room. It’s big enough and we can’t let him sleep on the sofa while he’s recuperating. He needs privacy while he’s resting, and we’ll need room in here for the tree. Could you do that for us, Alfred?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I hope you found your bedroom to your liking?”
“Yes ma’am,” Alfred repeated. “And if I may so, I can’t remember when I’ve tasted better cooking.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Hawthorne?” Liz hovered in the doorway. “Doctor Bailey has sent over a wheelchair for Mr. Higginbotham. Shall I bring it in?”
“Yes, of course,” Mama said. “How very thoughtful of Doctor Bailey.”
“I know everything I’d heard about Southern hospitality wasn’t exaggerated,” Higginbotham proclaimed. “Didn’t I say that on the way down, Jake?”
“Yes sir, you did.”
“Miss Carson, may I show you to your room?” Victoria asked.
“That would be nice,” their newest guest agreed. “Cyrus honey, don’t go anywhere.”
Upstairs, Victoria opened the door next to her - room. “We thought this might suit you.”
“How pretty!” Bertha stepped inside and nodded in approval. “Blue and white are my favorite colors. Are you sure I’m not putting someone out?”
“Not at all,” Victoria assured her.
“Good.” Miss Carson took off her hat and tossed it on the bed before turning to face Victoria, chin raised. “Now, I want to get one thing straight with you, Miss Hawthorne. There ain’t nothing improper between Cyrus and me. I may be a chorus girl, but I don’t fool around with no one. Cyrus is the only man who didn’t expect something from me after taking me to dinner or the theater, if you know what I mean. We’ve been courting for two years and he’s never been nothing but a perfect gentleman. So you don’t need to worry about anything happening between him and me while we’re under your roof.”
Victoria leaned against the doorframe at the young woman’s long-winded declaration. “Why aren’t you and Mr. Higginbotham married?” she asked.
Bertha shrugged and made a face. “He’s got a bee in his bonnet about not getting married ‘til he turns fifty.” Then she smiled and added, “But that’s on New Year’s Day, so I’m hoping he’ll….
Her voice trailed up in expectation, and Victoria laughed. “Perhaps Doctor Bailey will let him travel back to Manhattan by then.”
“I hope so. I’m sure Tennessee is real nice, but it sure ain’t Manhattan, Miss Hawthorne.”
“Victoria.”
Her new friend smiled again. “Then call me Bertha. I never did believe in standing on ceremony. And boy, isn’t that Jake Dillon easy on the eyes?”
Color flooded Victoria’s face. “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “He is.”
“Victoria? Miss Carson?” Mama called from downstairs. “Dinner is ready.”
“Come on, Vicki.” Bertha came forward and linked their arms. “I’ll bet if you play your cards right, you could get a proposal out of Jake Dillon by New Year’s Day. I saw the way he was watching you. You’ve already got his goose cooked good and proper. Course you’d have to move to Manhattan. He’s such a city boy, he’d never live anywhere else.”
And I could never live anywhere else but Tyler. The hope stirring in Victoria’s heart shrank back into its hiding place as she let Bertha lead her downstairs to the dining room.
***
December 22
“And so then, we went for a carriage ride through Hyde Park and the night sky was full of shooting stars! It was the most romantic, magical evening of my life and I knew right there, Cyrus was the only man for me!” Bertha sighed and dabbed her eyes with her breakfast napkin.
The other guests laughed softly at the blush covering Cyrus Higginbotham’s face. “Go along with you,” he said gruffly.
After dinner two nights ago, Victoria had gone to her rehearsal and returned to find their guests playing whist in the parlor with her parents. For two native New Yorkers, Mr. Higginbotham and Bertha seemed to be settling in quite nicely. Jake had retired for the evening. He, Papa and Mr. Higginbotham had spent most of yesterd
ay drawing up plans for the new emporium and discussing business. Bertha had proved quite handy with a needle--”us chorus girls have to keep our costumes in good repair”--and helped Mama with her sewing, while Victoria spent the afternoon with the children preparing for tonight’s pageant.
Which was good, because being alone again with Jake was something she didn’t think she could risk. Another one of those kisses would undo her.
Now, as Henry and Millie cleared the table, Bertha asked, “What are you going to do about your Christmas tree, Mr. Hawthorne?” “Well,” Papa said slowly, exchanging glances with his wife, “Henry said there’s a farmer selling them on the square. Perhaps we could start there.”
“Can we go look at them?” Bertha pleaded. “I’m sure with all these -muscled men, we can get Cyrus’ chair into a wagon-- if you have one-- so he can go with us. - After all, he’s had two days’ rest. Cyrus honey, don’t that sound like fun?”
“My dear, it sounds splendid. James, are the streets clear enough?”
“As a matter of fact, they are,” Papa said. “I suppose we can use that old flatbed wagon to go look at the trees.”
“James, have you forgotten you have a vestry meeting at church this morning?” Mama asked. “And I must mend the tablecloth we’ll use for Christmas dinner. Victoria and Mr. Dillon can drive them into town but they need to hurry. More snow is coming. I just hope it doesn’t cancel tonight’s Christmas pageant.”
And so, half an hour later, after securing the wheelchair to the back of the -flatbed wagon, and with some assistance from Alfred and Henry, Cyrus sat beside Bertha on the second passenger seat behind Jake and Victoria. Picking up the reins Victoria called, “Take us to town, Dickens.”
As they drove into town, Victoria pointed out the different styles of the houses lining the street. Judging from the soft giggles and conversation behind her, she doubted that Higginbotham and Bertha were listening.
And she was quite aware of the man beside her. A warmth radiated from him, filling her with a calm she hadn’t had since his arrival.
“I’ve never picked out a Christmas tree before,” he said suddenly.
Victoria canted her head towards him. “Never?”
“No. My parents always had one sent in from the countryside.”
Hearing the wistful regret in his voice, Victoria’s heart gave a sympathetic twist. “Then we’ll let you pick out the tree.”
The look he gave sent an entirely different feeling surging through her. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
They rode on in silence until they came to the town square and the tree- farmer. Victoria pulled Dickens to a stop, and Jake scrambled out to assist her down. His hands curved around her waist and his breath caught in his throat at the feel of her under his hands. He offered her his arm, and they stepped forward to move between the trees.
“How about that one?” She pointed.
“Too short.”
“That one?”
“Too skinny.”
She giggled. “So you want a tall, fat tree?”
“You do have high ceilings, Miss Victoria, and more than enough space. I think that one, over there.” Jake strode over to stand beside a tall, thick fir tree and wrapped his hand around a branch. “This one should fit perfectly in the corner of your parlor.”
“I think you’re right,” Victoria agreed. “Should we carry it back for the others to see?”
- A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Somehow, I don’t think they’re going to notice it very much. Or us.”
She turned her head and gazed at the couple in the wagon. “I think you’re right.” Looking up, she added, “And I also think we need to start back. That sky is looking more snow- filled by the second.”
After arranging for the farmer to send the bill to Mr. Hawthorne’s office, Jake shouldered the tree and headed back to the wagon with Victoria by his side. “Is that the way business is done here?”
“You mean the farmer trusting my father will pay him? For things like that, yes. But we use cash too, in case you’re worried.”
He shot her a glance but found only a smile on her face. “Not swapping produce for services?” he teased.
Her eyes twinkled. “Sometimes.”
They loaded the tree behind Higginbotham’s wheelchair and took their places in the wagon again. As Jake predicted, the other couple didn’t even notice them. Victoria picked up the reins once more and they headed back to the Hawthorne house, just as the sky opened up and it began to snow. By the time they arrived at the house, a blinding gust of white flakes swirled around them. A waiting Henry and Alfred hurried from the front porch and helped unload Cyrus and his chair. Bertha climbed down - -unaided and assisted the men - getting the millionaire into the house. Victoria drove Dickens behind the house and into the barn, where she unhitched him, while Jake unloaded the tree. Shouldering it again, he gave her a thoughtful look. “Thank you. This was fun.”
“Simple things,” Victoria said softly. “Remember how we enjoyed doing simple things?”
He nodded. “Victoria I--”
“Miss Vicki, your mother says for you and Mr. Dillon to come inside right now before you freeze to the ground!”
Millie’s voice from the back porch interrupted him, and containing his sigh, Jake followed Victoria into the house.
Chapter Six
“Oh dear, there’s hardly anyone here,” Mary whispered. “The children will be so disappointed. So will Victoria.”
The snow - continued throughout the day, and -, at eight o’clock, Tyler was nearly buried. A whistling wind rattled the windows, and only the tiniest flicker of light from the streetlamps pierced the swallowing darkness. Fewer than fifty people--most of them parents--sat in the school auditorium.
“Somehow I don’t think Victoria will let that stop the show from going on,” James said softly. “She’s worked too hard.”
“I think you’re right, Mr. Hawthorne,” Jake -also whispered. “When she was preparing for a debate at school, Victoria prepared harder than any of us. She won’t let something like a blizzard stop her or her pageant.
“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Bertha declared and Cyrus nodded in agreement.
A burst of music began from an upright piano on the stage, and a horde of children streamed out and mounted the bleachers there. A series of Christmas songs and skits followed, delighting the assembly. From the children’s smiling faces and happy voices, they didn’t care about the bad weather either.
And judging from the applause as - -when the show ended, neither did their parents. Especially when two of the boys pulled Victoria from the wings, forcing her to take a bow with her charges.
But the howling wind speeded the exit of cast and audience from the school, sending them scurrying for the safety of their homes. Back at the Hawthorne house, Minnie passed around cups of hot chocolate -.
“Here’s to Tyler’s best director!” James announced, raising his cup.
“Hear, hear!” the others called.
Victoria smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Pageants are fun, but I’m exhausted.” She -glanced at the decorated tree in the corner. “We did a good job on that this afternoon, didn’t we?”
“I thought you might be too tired to do it after the pageant,” her mother said. “I think it’s the prettiest tree we’ve ever had, thanks to our visitors.”
“It has the Manhattan touch,” Bertha said, and they all laughed.
“Too bad about the snowstorm,” Henry said glumly. “Papers said Haley’s Comet might have been visible tonight, but you can’t see anything now.”
“That’s too bad,” Victoria sighed. “I was hoping we’d at least have shooting stars to make Christmas wishes on.”
And it would take something like Haley�
��s Comet to wish -on for Jake Dillon to stay in Tyler.
“Well, I think this is the most fun I’ve had - at Christmas in years,” Higginbotham announced. “I think I might want to spend Christmas in Tyler every year from now on, don’t you know. What do you say, Bertha my dear?”
The chorus girl leaned over to kiss her beau on the cheek. “Whatever you say, Cyrus honey.”
The happy pair brought a sting of tears to Victoria’s eyes and she -set her cup on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to say good-night.”
“Congratulations on the pageant, Miss Hawthorne.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dillon. I’ll see you all tomorrow at
breakfast.”
And with that, Victoria hurried from the room.
***
“Vicki? Vicki, wake up.”
“What?” Victoria blinked her way out of a -sleep haze and sat up to find Jake Dillon standing on the landing outside her room, with the door slightly open.
“Put your robe on,” he hissed. “And hurry.”
He closed the door and Victoria shoved aside the bedclothes. Hurrying to grab the robe she had left draped over the back of a chair, she shrugged into it and tied the sash before joining him on the landing. “Have you lost your mind?” she whispered. “If my parents find us--”
“Look.” He pointed overhead.
“Oooh.” She let out a long sigh as she raised her gaze from his face. “Oh, Jake.”
A flurry of stars chased each other in gleeful abandon across the black landscape of the sky. “You were saying something about Christmas wishes?” Jake asked.
Star light, star bright,” Victoria chanted.
“But there are so many stars,” Jake countered, stepping behind her to rest his chin on her head. “Which one should we wish on?”
Suddenly, above them, an enormous light streaked across the sky, adding its own particular brilliance to the night. They watched the majesty of it until it vanished from their sight. “That one,” Victoria whispered. “Do you think that was Haley’s Comet?”