A Christmas Dream (Hudson House Holiday #1)

Chapter Ten

“D o you have a moment?”

Brant looked up from reviewing reports of his railroad investments to see his sister standing in the doorway of the library.

“Of course. Come in.” He rose and stepped around his desk, motioning for her to take a seat in one of the velvet upholstered chairs facing the fireplace.

Eloise walked into the room with her customary grace and style. She and the children had been there a week, in which time they’d settled into Hudson House quite nicely.

Mayes and Clara both loved playing with Bobby. Eloise convinced Dulcie it was a good thing to let Bobby play with her children, and Nanny Lewis kept an eye on all three of the young ones. Brant had even convinced Holland and Savannah to bring Charli with them to spend the day when they came to work Tuesday morning. The little girls had a grand time playing together, and Clara had cried when Denver had taken Charli home.

Denver had moved into the quarters for the male staff members above the stables. Brant could keep the carpenters busy for the next dozen years and not run out of projects for them to work on. He liked that Denver was close by for Holland and Savannah to talk to when they needed a listening ear.

The two sisters, who had been nearly inseparable, seemed to have adjusted to working in different areas of the house. Dulcie offered pleased reviews about Holland’s help in the kitchen, and Mrs. Sanders had figured out which maids did their best work in specific areas of Brant’s home. Thankfully, Remington had been able to hire two women to work in the laundry, and an experienced footman.

With a full staff, even if several of them were not yet fully trained, the house operations had begun to run smoothly. No longer were the evenings too quiet. Instead, they were filled by the sounds of children giggling, people laughing, and a house settling into a home.

Eloise perched on a chair and waited for Brant to sit in the one across from her. He could tell she had something on her mind, something she wanted to discuss, or rather, inform him he needed to do.

“What is weighing on your mind, Eloise?” he asked, leaning back in the chair and stretching out his legs toward the fire that had been burning cheerily in the hearth when he’d entered the room earlier. He missed his morning conversations with Holland as she cleaned, but perhaps it was for the best. He had to wander through the house to the kitchen at least once a day just to see her, and it gave him an opportunity to observe more of what was taking place beneath his roof.

He’d noticed Dalton and Gareth seemed taken with Savannah, which both amused and annoyed Remington. Denver’s friend Colin was sweet on Serena, and Denver seemed to find excuses to visit the kitchen to check on Dulcie.

Perhaps the upcoming holiday season carried a hint of romance in the air.

“Christmas, Brant,” his sister said, drawing him back to their conversation. “You don’t have a single decoration for the holidays and none anywhere in storage that I’ve found. I realize most men seem to think a magic being snaps his fingers and the house is transformed with garlands and bows, but I assure you it takes weeks of planning and preparation.”

“I hoped Remington had something planned.”

Eloise scowled at him. “When would he do that? Between managing everything for you, serving as your butler, valet, and footman, not to mention the million other things he does around here, when would he have time? I’m not certain the poor man ever rests, which is why I thought it would be good to train Dalton and Gareth.”

“I agree, and I have plans I’m working on, so let’s revisit your opinions on all that after Christmas.” Brant sat forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I don’t have the slightest idea where to begin with Christmas decorations. I did buy a spool of red ribbon at the store last week that should be delivered any day. Do you need me to order some things? Are decorations something that can be found in Silver Bluff? If it’s just going to be us, what is required beyond a tree for the children to enjoy on Christmas Day?”

“About that.” Eloise glanced at the fire instead of him, a sure sign he was not going to like whatever she had to say. “From what I heard at church Sunday, people are anxious and excited to see your home, Brant. I propose hosting a Christmas ball on Christmas Eve. Nothing too elaborate. Then on Christmas Day, I think we should open the doors to your employees and their families. Serve a simple meal, present a gift to each family, and a toy to each child.”

Brant liked the ideas but had no notion how they’d accomplish so much in such little time. “There isn’t any way we can decorate the house for the holiday, arrange a ball for a hundred people, feed another two hundred people on Christmas Day, and buy gifts for all the little ones. How could we possibly make that happen?”

“By enlisting the help of the ladies in the community. I mentioned my ideas to Holland and Savannah. They thought their mother might be able to gather women to help with the decorations. It wouldn’t be hard to compile a list of your employees and their family members, then acquire the ages of each child. Think of it, Brant. Some of these children may not receive any gift but the one you give.”

He could almost hear violins playing a sad, maudlin tune as Eloise spread the guilt over him like a wet, moldy blanket.

“Fine. Charge ahead. What do you need me to do?”

She offered him a pleased, somewhat smug smile. “Set a budget for each category. I need to know how much to spend on decorations. Gifts. Food. The ball. Also, we will need to hire temporary staff for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”

“You better start asking around now if additional staff is needed. You might have to haul them in from The Dalles, or even Portland if you can’t find any locals willing to work.”

“I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding enough people.”

Brant walked over to his desk, wrote out a bank note, and handed it to Eloise. “Will this cover everything?” he asked.

She smiled, hopped up, and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Brant. I just want this first Christmas in your lovely home to be one you’ll always remember.”

“I will, because having you and the children here has made the house feel much more like a home. I’m so glad you came, Eloise.”

She squeezed his hand and headed for the door. “I am too, dear brother. Did I hear mention you have timber on your property?”

“Yes. About ten miles from here. Why?” Brant couldn’t imagine what she’d need in the woods.

“Trees, Brant. We need Christmas trees. Greens for garlands and wreaths, and boughs to drape on fireplace mantels. Will Remington know where to find the trees?”

Brant nodded. “Yes, but let me speak with him. How many trees do you require?”

Eloise tapped a finger to her chin. “I’m not entirely certain. I’ll have a number for you when we dine for lunch.”

“That will be fine. Thank you, Eloise.”

She tilted her head in a manner that reminded him of their mother, although Eloise’s personality was nothing like hers. “For what?”

“For reminding me it’s important to open my home and heart for the holidays.”

“I’ll remind you every day if necessary,” she said with a wink, then breezed out of the room.

Brant returned to his desk and sank into the chair. Sometimes being around his sister was like trying to harness a hurricane, but she meant well and her heart was in the right place.

He hurried to finish reviewing the reports, wrote a letter to send to his investment manager and addressed it, then pulled out a file with records of his current employees. In addition to the household staff, those working in the stable and those doing jobs elsewhere on the estate were the head gardener and his staff, the dairy manager and his employees, the hog division, the farm manager and his workers, and others he’d nearly forgotten about.

It made Brant feel slightly better to realize he knew which of his employees were married, if they had children, and their spouse’s names. He might have been raised to treat people “beneath him,” as his father would say, as though they didn’t matter, but Brant had never felt that way. Without the people he employed, he wouldn’t have a beautiful home or growing businesses on the property that he hoped would, in the near future, make it one of the most successful enterprises in the West.

After jotting down several pages of notes about the staff, he started another list including names of people from Silver Bluff to invite. Few people in town were wealthy, but that didn’t matter to him anyway. He wanted the ball to be a celebration of the people who had welcomed him to Silver Bluff and made him feel part of the community.

No one had done a better job of that than Holland. Could he somehow convince her to attend the ball with him? There was no one else he’d rather have by his side.

If Brant cared to admit it, he was head over heels in love with her. The question that he couldn’t quite seem to answer was what he planned to do about it.

Brant refrained from making any trips to the kitchen all morning. He joined Eloise in the breakfast room for lunch, then they bundled up and went for a walk. It had been so chilly and snowy the past week, they’d hardly had time to explore the grounds, but the sun shining brightly and the sound of icicles dripping assured him the weather was warmer than it had been.

“Tell me again why you chose sandstone for the house,” Eloise said as they walked around the south side of the house where the warmth of the sun reflected off the building.

“One reason is the quarry across the river could produce enough to meet my demands,” he said as they stopped and both stared up at the towering structure. “The stones are fire resistant, the rain won’t ever damage them, and they’ll last beyond my lifetime.”

Eloise’s hand, where it rested on his arm, squeezed gently. “It’s a magnificent home, Brant. I know you spent years planning each room, and all your effort and dreams have become a beautiful reality that’s providing jobs for many people in this area. Although Dean and I questioned your sanity when you said you were buying land in Silver Bluff, it’s been just the right thing for you to do.”

Brant chuckled. “I know. Dean told me as much. The first time Rem and I came here and stood on the bluff looking down at the river, I knew I’d found the place I wanted to build my home. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say I knew I had to build my home here.”

“It does feel like home, here, Brant. Like you’ve found the place you were always meant to be. It couldn’t have been easy to sever all your ties with Father and the family business, but I’m proud of you for striking out on your own.”

“Thank you, Eloise. You know how he is, how both Mother and Father are. That’s not how I want to live my life. Besides, Father always said he already had an heir and a spare when I came along, which made me both irrelevant and useless.”

Eloise frowned. “It was cruel of him to ever think that, let alone say it. Repeatedly. He acted like it was a funny joke he could take out and share at parties.”

Brant shrugged, and they began walking toward the fountain that had been drained before the ground frosted. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s in the past is behind us, and an exciting future stretches out before us.”

“Regarding your future, I’ve noticed any number of interested girls would gladly become Mrs. Hudson.”

Brant shook his head. “No, Eloise. I don’t need any matchmaking on my behalf.”

“Only because you’ve already fallen in love.”

“I have n—”

She waggled a gloved finger at him. “Don’t try and deny it. As soon as you and Holland were in the same room, it practically lit up with sparks. How long has that been going on?”

“From the day we met.” Brant sighed, recalling how he’d pretended to be Alex, then shared the story with his sister.

Eloise swatted him. “That was a ridiculous thing for a grown man to do. It serves you right if she likes Alex better than Mr. Hudson. Have you ever considered the notion that she might just love all of you, not only bits and pieces?”

“No one has said anything about love, Eloise.”

His sister lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps it’s far past time you did.”

“Just leave it be, Sister. However, I do want to inquire if you think Holland might accompany me to the Christmas Eve ball. I assume the staff, particularly the kitchen staff, will be stretched thin that night. Will she feel she must stay and help Dulcie? Or do you think she’d be willing to attend?”

“I have no idea, Brant. The only one who can answer your questions is Holland, and until you ask her, you’ll never know. By the way, I asked Mrs. Sanders and Remington to gather all the staff for a meeting first thing in the morning to discuss the Christmas decorations, ball, and party. Dulcie will prepare coffee and muffins for everyone. We’ll meet in the dining room at eight. It will also provide an opportunity to see how the table looks when it is stretched all the way out.”

“That’s fine. Anything else I should know?”

Eloise appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Not at the moment. The lists you made will be most helpful in planning. Oh, I believe we’ll need a dozen Christmas trees. Two of them should be exceedingly tall. One should go at the base of the stairs. The other in the dining room. If the branches are sturdy enough, the dining room tree can be decorated with the wrapped gifts we’ll give to the employees’ children on Christmas Day. For the ball, the most suitable space is the attic. Nothing is stored up there, and it offers ample space for dancing. I realize access is not ideal for an entire party to troop through the servants’ quarters to reach it, but I truly think it would work. I had Remington escort me up there before lunch. Electric lights that work have already been installed in the attic. You could have one of the carpenters build a platform for the musicians. We’ll need refreshment tables, and tables and chairs for guests, and linens. I may need to send off for some of those things. What do you think?”

“To summarize, you want enormous trees, when we have nothing to decorate them. You plan to invite a hundred or so people to traipse to the furthermost corner of my house and encourage them to dance in the empty attic. And you don’t seem to think it is a tragically terrible idea for me to invite Holland to the ball.”

“Exactly. You do catch on quickly, Brant. I’m so proud of you,” she said drolly.

Brant felt like his sister was patronizing him, but chose to ignore it. Instead, they returned to the house. After leaving Eloise by the fire in the sitting room, he went in search of Remington. If they were going to pull off a Christmas celebration unlike any Silver Bluff had ever known, it was going to require intricate planning on everyone’s part.

Two hours later, Brant felt the need for what he’d come to think of as his sunshine break. A moment to bask in the warmth that was all Holland. He stepped into the kitchen to find her alone in the spacious room, kneading a large lump of yeasty dough on a marble-topped table that hadn’t been there the previous day.

“Where did that come from?” he asked as Holland glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Dulcie asked Remington to order it. She claims the marble turns out the best pastries, breads, and biscuits.”

Brant grinned. “I don’t know how she could improve on perfection. Her biscuits are the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“I know! I’ve watched her make them a dozen times, copied the exact ingredients and measurements, and mine never turn out as good as hers. I think there’s some secret ingredient she’s failed to share.”

Brant washed his hands at the sink, dried them as he watched Holland work the dough, then sauntered over to the big cookie jar Dulcie kept on the kitchen table. He fished out two cinnamon cookies laden with walnuts, then returned the lid to the jar and poured a cup of coffee from the pot on the back of the stove. He dunked his cookie into the steaming liquid and took a bite before going over to lean against the wall by the table where Holland worked.

“Have you heard about the Christmas festivities?” he asked, taking another bite of the cookie.

“The ball, the Christmas party for the staff, or the decorations and tree-fetching expedition?” Holland glanced at him and then returned her focus to kneading the bread.

“There’s an expedition?” Brant hadn’t heard about that. He really needed to start a detailed list and follow up with Remington on each point.

“Why, Mr. Hudson! You best keep up, or you’ll be left out in a snowbank,” Holland teased, then gave him a somber look. “Honestly, Brant, the plans are all wonderful. The staff is already buzzing like bees about the Christmas party. The community will soon be thrilled to learn about the ball. Did I hear mention your sister wants to hold it in the attic?”

“That’s what she said. I didn’t build the house with a ballroom, and all that empty space up there seemed to be calling to her.”

Holland laughed. “With enough help, it could be a beautiful space, especially with all the windows offering amazing views. You have electric lights installed there already. A few decorations, maybe a tree or two, and it will spruce the space right up. I also heard you are thinking about giving gifts to children of employees.”

“Yes. I’ve started a list. I may require assistance to ensure no child is forgotten.”

“Of course. Savannah and I can help, and so can Denver. He knows most of the fellows who work around the property.” Holland lifted the huge lump of dough, turned it over, and continued kneading. Watching her hands work in and out of the dough was almost mesmerizing.

Brant cleared his throat and tried to focus. “I want to give a gift to each employee. Other than a monetary gift, does anything come to mind as a suggestion?”

“It may seem a silly thing to you, but oranges are a special tradition in my family. Each year for Christmas we get an orange. They are hard to come by, and costly, so it is a special treat. You could gift each employee’s family with a basket of oranges if you wanted to do something special and generous. I think they would be appreciated. If that is too much or too extravagant, perhaps something like a smoked ham for each family.”

“I like the idea of oranges. It’s something that would keep awhile, and could be enjoyed in the days and weeks after Christmas.” Brant smiled at her as she began forming the bread into loaves. “I have one more question for you.”

“Certainly. What is it?” she asked as she tucked the dough into the prepared loaf pans on the worktable behind her.

“Would you consider attending the ball with me, Holland? There is nothing that would make me happier.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to drop the dough in her hands. She managed to plunk it into a loaf pan before she wiped her hands on her apron and turned to stare at him as though he’d begun speaking in foreign tongues.

“You want me to go to the ball? Your Christmas ball?” The strange look on her face and her eyes made it hard for him to know if she was excited, scared, angry, or elated. “With you?”

“Yes. Will you accompany me to the ball?”

Instead of answering, she threw him completely off kilter by asking, “Why?”

“Why? Because it’s a ball. It’s Christmas. I want …” Brant wanted her beside him always, but thought the ball might be a good first step in the right direction. “It would make me quite pleased if you agreed to go with me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Brant. People will talk. I’m your employee. You’re … you.” She slid the loaf pans into the oven. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, Mr. Hudson.”

Brant felt like banging his head on the marble table in frustration. Instead, he dumped what was left of his coffee down the drain, set his cup in the sink, and shoved the last bite of his cookie in his mouth before he walked over to where Holland fussed with a bit of dough stuck to her finger.

He took her hands captive between his. “Holland, you should know by now I don’t care if people talk. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re my employee or not. And you could never embarrass Mr. Hudson, nor your friend, Alex. In fact, can’t you come around to the idea that they are all the same person? That they are me?”

“That’s part of the problem, Brant. You are wealthy and handsome, and intelligent and amazing. You deserve a woman who will make you proud and know which of the six forks at the dinner table to use, or how to ask a question in French. I’m a farm girl who enjoys baking and arranging flowers. That does not make for a good match.”

“How do you know? Aren’t you even willing to take a chance? To follow a dream, Holland? You once told me it was your dream to work here. What would you do if I said you’re my dream?”

Holland pulled her hands away from him and stepped over to look out one of the windows. “I’d say you are likely eating too much dessert that is causing indigestion that leads to nightmares if you think I’m your dream. How can I be, Brant? I’m never going to be more than Holland Drake.”

He knew she’d meant her comment to be funny, but it made him angry. “I don’t want or need you to be anyone more or different, because you are the one who has captured my interest. If you don’t believe me, then explain this.”

Without considering where he was, who could walk into the kitchen at any moment, nor how Holland would react, Brant pulled her into his arms and kissed her. At first, it was a kiss of tenderness, of introduction, but then she slid the arms he’d trapped between the two of them along his shoulders and around the back of his neck, drawing herself closer in his arms. The kiss turned to one of hunger and acceptance, of exploration and connection.

“Brant,” she whispered in a ragged voice when he finally lifted his head from hers.

“Hmm?” he asked, lost somewhere between the dream of Holland and the kiss that left him weak in the knees.

“I’ll go to the ball with you.”

“That’s good, Holland. That’s very good.” He leaned down to kiss her again, but voices in the hallway sent her scurrying away from him. She turned on the hot water in the sink so steam rose upward, no doubt hoping to blame her red face on it.

“Oh, Mr. Hudson. Is there something I can do for you?” Dulcie asked as she and Ellen carried in jars of canned vegetables and set them on the worktable.

“No, Dulcie. Holland let me steal something sweet. I’ll be on my way.” He walked to the doorway, then glanced back at Holland. Her kisses had been sweeter and better than he had dreamed possible.

Knowing that only made him hungry to kiss her again.