Keli Gwyn - Their Mistletoe Matchmakers

“You and me both. I thanked the Lord posthaste.”

Her face was so close to Henry’s as he cradled her in his strong arms that his profile filled her vision. He’d already been good-looking at twenty, but the ensuing decade had done remarkable things for him, transforming him into a strikingly handsome man. With his angular jaw, aristocratic nose and arresting blue eyes, he must have turned the head of many a lady over the years. And yet, from what Pauline had written, no woman had turned his.

He reached the back porch, tromped up the steps and glanced at her. His eyebrows shot toward his hairline, and his well-formed lips lifted in a winsome smile.

She averted her gaze. How could she have been so foolish as to let him catch her staring at him? He might be a feast for the eyes, but he wasn’t the type of man to capture her attention. Like their late siblings, she and Henry came from different worlds.

And yet it appeared his situation had improved. His waterproof top hat, made of high-quality beaver, provided a sharp contrast to the shabby slouch hat he used to wear. Her head rested on his chest, the wool of his alpaca overcoat soft against her cheek. The coat, one every bit as fine as her father’s, had to have cost Henry a small fortune.

“Since my hands are full—” he winked “—could you open the door?”

Her many years spent schooling her emotions enabled her to hide her surprise. Barely. The gentlemen of her acquaintance would never have behaved in such a familiar manner, but in her experience, Henry only conformed to the social mores when it suited him. “You could put me down, you know.”

“I will. When I’m ready. The door, please.” He inclined his head toward it.

Obstinate man. “Are you always this insistent on doing things your way?”

He grinned. “Only when I’m carrying a lovely lady in my arms.”

Her manners failed her, leaving her mouth gaping. She snapped it closed and grappled for a suitable response, delivering it with playfulness on par with his. “Might I point out, kind sir, that I’m a muddy mess and don’t qualify for any special treatment?”

“This isn’t special treatment. I make it a point to come to the aid of anyone who tangles with a broken branch or—” his pleasantly full lips twitched “—a wayward piece of cake.”

He remembered? Of course he did. How could he forget that mortifying moment when she’d stumbled and sent her slice of Jack and Pauline’s wedding cake sliding down her front?

Henry had hustled her off to the kitchen after the unfortunate incident and helped her remove the bits of white frosting clinging to the silk. She’d done her best to ignore him up to that point—not an easy task since he was the best man—but he’d repaid her with kindness. Aside from that rather pointed remark about begrudging Jack and Pauline their happiness, of course.

“Very well. I’ll do your bidding.” Lavinia leaned over, twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

He entered the kitchen, set her down in front of the cook stove and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re not dizzy, are you?”

“No. Just a bit chilled.” She turned out of his grasp and held her hands toward the heat, reveling in the warmth.

“Where are the children?”

“Alex and Marcie are in school. I sent Gladys to meet them with umbrellas since the weather took a turn. Dot asked to go, too, so I let her.” She’d had such fun getting to know her nieces and nephew over the past week. The youngest girl loved her older siblings and missed them when they were gone. Since they were all Dot had left of her immediate family, it made sense.

Henry leaned back against the dry sink, his arms folded. “Who’s Gladys?”

“My maid, er, the housekeeper.”

“You brought a servant all the way from Philadelphia? Why?”

She preferred his playful side to his drawn eyebrows and pursed lips. She’d dealt with more than enough disapproval from her father over the years. She didn’t need it from Henry, too. “To care for the children, of course.”

“You don’t have to care for them. I am.”

“How can you? You still live up in Marysville, don’t you?” In his Miners’ Hotel, which he’d opened a few years back, if she had her facts straight. Pauline’s friend Norma said he’d made the trip down to Sutter Creek as soon as he’d received word of the steamship accident that had claimed Pauline and Jack’s lives, among many others. Although Henry’s concern for the children was laudable, he couldn’t leave his business for too long. Could he?

“I did live there, but I’m here now.”

Norma hadn’t elaborated on his plans. “For a visit?”

“To stay. The children need me, so I’ve put my place up for sale. That’s why I had to go back up there and wasn’t here when you arrived.”

He wasn’t making sense. “Are you saying you intend to take them in?”

“Yes.”

That one word, uttered so matter-of-factly, robbed her of her breath. He wasn’t going to raise the children. She was.

She needed to set him straight. Now.

* * *

The last thing Henry needed was the children’s meddlesome aunt interfering, but that determined look in Lavinia Crowne’s chocolate-brown eyes spelled trouble.

“I was clear in my letter. Father sent me here to—”

“What letter?” He hadn’t received one.

“The one I mailed the day we set sail. Didn’t you get it? I understood the Pony Express to be quite reliable.”

“Where did you send it?”

“To your hotel in Marysville.”

He nodded. “It would have arrived there when I was here in Sutter Creek. I asked my clerk to forward everything. The letter’s probably on—” he swallowed “—on Jack’s desk.” Two months had passed, and yet he still had a hard time saying his brother’s name without a stab of pain.

“I s-see.” She was rubbing her arms and clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering.

“We can talk later. You need to get out of those wet things. I’ll get some water heating so you can bathe, and then I’ll see about stretching a tarpaulin over the shed before it gets any wetter inside.”

“Wh-what happened to the shed?” She rushed to the window overlooking the backyard. “Oh! The branch destroyed a good bit of the roof, didn’t it? That’s too bad.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it once the storm’s past.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t inside. I was g-going out there to get more kerosene.”

“I’ll bring some when I come back.” He moved closer, attempting to capture her attention, but it remained riveted on the storm’s damage. “Do you need anything else before I go?”

She twisted a mud-coated curl around her finger. Her parted mouth and glassy-eyed stare gave her the look of someone who was lost. “I never thought about death much until I lost my mother. First Maman and now Pauline and Jack. Life’s a fleeting thing, isn’t it?”

He wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear, so he waited to see if she would continue. Thankfully, she did.

“Do you miss them?”

“I do.” He stared out the window, remembering the last time he’d seen Jack and his doting wife. It had been a hot September day. They’d been sitting on a blanket in the shade of that very oak tree, having a picnic lunch with the children. Laughter had flowed as freely as the lemonade.

“My brother and I had our differences when we were younger, but once we got a few years on us things improved. Pauline helped smooth Jack’s rough edges. She tried to help smooth mine, too, but according to her, I’m a—” he formed quotation marks in the air “—‘diamond in the rough.’” The memory of her saying those words in that playful way of hers made him smile. He turned to find Lavinia gazing at him, a look of wonder on her lovely face.