Keli Gwyn - Their Mistletoe Matchmakers

“It appears we’re at an impasse. You loved your sister and want to do what you think best for our nieces and nephew. I loved my brother and Pauline, too, and want to do the same. They entrusted the children to me, which makes their choice of guardian clear.”

Jack might have named Henry as guardian in the will, but Pauline had said long ago that if the unthinkable happened and the Lord took her and Jack home, she wanted Lavinia to care for the children. And she had the letter to prove it!

Henry leaned toward her once again. “Let me ask you this. What do you think the children want?”

He had an annoying habit of asking questions she didn’t care to answer. He knew what the youngsters would say. He’d been an important part of their lives since they were born, whereas they’d only met her eight days ago. She couldn’t permit him to question them on this point. Not yet. Not until she had an opportunity to let them know what wonderful things awaited them in the east.

But how could she do that? They couldn’t begin to imagine how different life would be there, how much fun they would have. If only she could show them.

An idea struck her, filling her with hope. She could show them. By creating a Christmas like those she and Pauline had enjoyed when they were young, the children would see what their lives would be like in Philadelphia and why she was eager to take them there.

Showing what she could do for the children would also help strengthen her case should Henry refuse to relinquish his rights, forcing her to take legal action. She prayed he would have a change of heart before that, but she had her doubts.

“I think what they want is to know they’re loved and will be well cared for. As I said before, we can start by doing all we can to see that they have as enjoyable a Christmas season as possible, considering the circumstances. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Wariness creased his brow. “I can tell by the determination in your eyes that you’re up to something. What is it?”

“Just what I said. I’m going to make this Christmas extra special.”

“And after that?”

Another probing question. But she’d anticipated this one and had a ready answer. “We’ll discuss the children’s future then. It makes no sense to do so now. You and I have only had two brief interactions. Postponing the conversation will give us time to get better acquainted and determine which of our situations would be best for the children. Not only that, but if we put off the matter and focus on the children at present, they won’t witness any petty quibbling on our part. Not that you’d engage in any, of course,” she said with playfully exaggerated sincerity.

A slow, easy smile lifted Henry’s lips and eased the tension in his face—his very handsome face. “My dear Miss Crowne, I’ve underestimated your talents. You’re quite the diplomat.”

She returned his smile. “And you, Mr. Hawthorn, are a worthy adversary. If you’re in agreement with my plan and are willing to wait until December twenty-sixth to revisit the matter then perhaps you’d be willing to shake on it.” She extended her hand.

He stared at it a moment before taking it. His grip was firm but not overly so. To her surprise, he didn’t pull his hand back right away. Although she welcomed the reassuring gesture—and the resulting warmth that flowed through her—the resolve in his eyes gave her cause for concern. “I appreciate how much the children matter to you, but don’t expect me to change my position.”

She didn’t, which was why she would work hard to show her nieces and nephew why they’d be better off with her—and gain custody of them.

* * *

Lavinia closed her bedroom door behind her and inhaled deeply. The tantalizing scent of pies filled the air—apple and pumpkin, with more to come. Gladys had spent the previous afternoon in the kitchen, and she’d be there again today, getting things ready for tomorrow. Although this Thanksgiving meal wouldn’t be as sumptuous as those Lavinia had enjoyed around her father’s table, it would give the children their first taste of what life would be like when they reached their new home.

She rapped on Alex’s door. “Good morning, my favorite nephew. Are you awake?”

“It’s too early,” he grumbled.

“You’d better hurry, or the girls will beat you downstairs.” She’d discovered that a friendly competition helped get the children moving in the morning. The one who reached the kitchen first got an extra slice of bacon. Marcie had earned that honor the past two days. The sound of feet hitting the floor told Lavinia that Alex intended to have it today.

The door to the girls’ room opened, and little Dot peeked her head out. “I’m up, Aunt Livy, and I’m gonna get dressed real fast so I’m the firstest.”

“I heard that!” Alex hollered from behind his door. “But I’ll be there before you!”

Lavinia smiled. Another day was underway. She descended the stairs, ready for breakfast. After her frightening ordeal yesterday afternoon, followed by the draining conversation with Henry, her appetite had fled. She’d eaten little at supper and, consequently, had awoken hungry. She could almost taste Gladys’s crispy bacon, but—she sniffed—she couldn’t smell it.

She hurried to the kitchen to find Gladys hunched over the cook stove. The wiry woman’s movements were stiff and slow. “What’s wrong?”

“My rheumatism is acting up again, so wrestling with all these buttons took a while.” She swept a hand over her bodice. “Don’t you worry, though. I’ll get that bacon going right away.” Gladys placed several thick strips in the bottom of a frying pan and plunked it on the burner.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’d be happy to help.”

Gladys turned and studied Lavinia. The older woman’s face was pinched with pain. “I reckon you mean well, Miss Lavinia, but what do you know about cooking?”

Very little, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. “I’m a quick learner.”

“Then put on an apron, and you can take over.”

Lavinia grabbed a knee-length red apron that looked good against her green dress. The colors reminded her of Pauline. Her sister had rarely worn any others. “What do I do?”

Gladys handed her a pair of tongs. “Watch the bacon, and turn it every now and then. Keep your face back ’cause it splatters. I’ll fry up the eggs.” She reached for a second frying pan, but the heavy iron skillet slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor, narrowly missing her feet.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. My fingers are just being a mite troublesome this morning.”

Lavinia picked up the frying pan, which had landed right side up. “Why don’t you have a seat at the kitchen table and instruct me from there?”

“Maybe I should rest my poor hands a bit. They’ve got a lot of work ahead of them the next two days.” Gladys gave Lavinia a quick lesson in how to fry an egg and sank into the nearest chair.

Lavinia’s mind raced, going over the many items yet to be prepared for tomorrow’s feast. She couldn’t ask Gladys to work when she was in such pain, but without her help, the meal was in jeopardy.

A rap on the back door startled Lavinia. She rushed over, saw Henry through the window in the upper half and yanked open the door. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I’ve been eating my meals with the children. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Technically it wouldn’t be. They had plenty of food, but she had no desire for him to witness her first cooking lesson. What choice did she have, though? He was the children’s uncle and had a right to spend time with them. A legal right, thanks to the will he’d shown her after their conversation on Monday. Not that she’d let that stop her. A will could be contested.