A Christmas Dream (Hudson House Holiday #1)

Chapter Fourteen

H olland drew in a calming breath, willed her legs to stop shaking beneath her, and scowled when someone nudged her from behind.

She glanced over her shoulder at Denver.

“So help me, if you don’t march up those stairs, I will throw you over my shoulder. It won’t do good things for the dress Mrs. Mitchum insisted you borrow or that fancy hairstyle her maid gave you. If you love Brant and want him in your life, hustle your bustle up those stairs, Holland Drake.”

She might have stuck her tongue out at her bossy brother, but she was trying to behave like a well-mannered lady. “You’re a good brother even when you are infuriatingly right, you know.”

“I know.” Denver placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Now, move those feet.”

Before she turned tail and ran like a coward all the way home to her childhood bedroom, Holland lifted the skirt of the fawn-colored satin gown trimmed with Venetian lace Eloise had insisted she wear, and rushed up the stairs.

Conversations and laughter filled the attic as the musicians tuned their instruments on the platform at the far end of the open room.

The sparkle of the festive decorations was reflected in the excited faces of those who’d come to celebrate Christmas, see Hudson House, and officially welcome Brant into the Silver Bluff community.

Holland scanned the crowd and saw Brant smiling at something Laura Gibson said while shaking her husband’s hand before he moved on to greet the pastor.

One of the hundred things she admired about Brant was the way he truly cared about people. He knew the names of not only his employees, but their families. He knew details about people in town—Holland’s own friends and neighbors—simply because he listened with an open heart and mind.

Brant wasn’t perfect. Holland was mindful of that fact. But she couldn’t think of anyone better suited for her.

He was her Christmas dream. Her forever wish come true.

At least he would be if he forgave her for nearly missing this opportunity to share in what would surely become a treasured memory for them both.

She studied him, the cut of his elegant suit coat snug on his broad shoulders, and the thick waves of his short black hair. The white shirt he wore made his tanned face appear even darker and more rugged. When she realized he wore his cowboy boots, it made her smile. It was one more way he sought to become part of the community. Such a little thing, but so significant to her.

Holland knew the moment Brant saw her. His head lifted, and his eyes filled with delight. A smile radiating happiness filled his countenance. She rushed toward him, and he met her halfway across the floor, capturing her hands with his before he kissed her cheek.

“You’re here. I’m so glad, Holland. So deeply and profoundly pleased you came.”

“Eloise hardly left any room for argument,” Holland said, only half joking. The woman had known exactly what to say to change Holland’s mind. It had also helped to know Eloise approved of her for Brant. If the woman had detested her, Holland would have quit her job and never returned because she wouldn’t ever want to come between Brant and his family.

As it was, Holland admired and respected both Eloise and her husband, Dean. Holland adored Mayes and Clara, and looked forward to getting to know them all better.

While Eloise had helped Holland dress and her maid had styled Holland’s hair, Eloise had spoken of her home in San Francisco and extracted a promise from Holland to visit the next time Brant traveled there on business.

Only a few hours ago, Holland had been sure she faced a bleak and lonely future, and now, with Brant beside her, anything seemed possible.

“You are glorious, Holland, and I’m not referring to the dress or your hair. It’s you that adds the warmth and glow to my Christmas.”

Holland cupped his cheek, wishing there was time to say all the things in her heart, but the words would have to wait until after the party. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Brant. I’m honored to be here with you.”

He smiled at her, nodded to the band, then took her hand and led her to stand with him on the platform.

“Good evening, everyone! I am most thankful you could join us tonight to celebrate this wonderful eve of Christmas. Welcome to Hudson House!”

Cheers and claps erupted around the room before they quieted again.

Brant smiled and looked out across the crowd, oozing the easy charm Holland associated with his persona of Alex from the first day they met. “Please enjoy the evening. There are refreshments on the table at the back, courtesy of our wonderful kitchen staff, and at eight a light supper will be served in the dining room to any who are interested. Happy Christmas Eve!”

“Happy Christmas Eve!” the crowd echoed, then the musicians began to play the first song.

Brant held out his hand to Holland. She took it and curtsied as he bowed to her, then they led the first dance with Eloise and Dean joining in.

The next two hours were filled with music and laughter. Brant never got far from her side, other than when he danced with Eloise, Holland’s mother, and old Mrs. Pringle, who could barely totter around the dance floor. Brant escorted the woman back to her seat at the end of the dance, then returned to Holland’s side.

“It was kind of you to dance with her. The stout odor of the liniment she rubs on her knees keeps most people away,” Holland said with a grin as Brant slipped his arm around her waist, took her right hand in his as they joined the next dance, and looked at her with such love in his eyes she almost missed the first step of the dance.

“You mustn’t look at me like that while we’re dancing,” she said, feeling breathless when his gaze continued to hold hers.

“I mustn’t? How should I look then?” He crossed his eyes and made such a ridiculous face, Holland couldn’t help but laugh.

“Just like that, the rest of the evening,” she said, grateful they were once again on solid footing and could joke with one another.

Holland knew their future, if they were to have one together, wouldn’t be all roses and walks in the moonlight, but she also knew Brant would make her laugh. He would challenge her and feed the need in her to grow into the person God wanted her to be. Life with Brant would mean their opinions often clashed. They would no doubt argue and debate, but they would also share friendship.

Their love would be deep, enduring, and true.

The very thought of it left her humbled, overjoyed, and thankful that Brant had come into her life, even if he’d pretended at the time to be an estate worker named Alex.

No longer did she think of him in terms of different personalities—Alex versus Mr. Hudson. She’d realized there were many, many layers to the man she loved with all her heart, and it would take years to reveal them all.

Holland looked forward to each discovery.

When the dance ended, the guests who wished to stay adjourned to the dining room. Many departed, eager to get home to their own celebrations and tuck weary children into bed.

Eloise had hired three girls from town to help Nanny Lewis keep an eye on all the children who attended the festivities. They played games, made crafts, and enjoyed listening to stories read by the fire in the parlor.

Before they departed, each child was given a peppermint stick, a little sack of nuts, and an orange.

The light supper was a three-course meal featuring a creamy vegetable soup with rolls Holland herself had helped bake, roasted beef with potatoes and carrots for the second course, and apple cake for dessert. The food wasn’t fancy or pretentious, but it was delicious and filling.

When guests began to depart, Brant held on to Holland’s hand and stood at the door with Eloise and Dean, wishing each attendee the happiest of holidays.

Once all the guests departed, Brant gave his sister a meaningful glance, then led Holland into the sitting room, where a low fire added warmth and an amber glow to the room. The Christmas tree filled the space with a decadent aroma that mingled with Brant’s scent in a heady combination.

Holland studied him, with the firelight emphasizing the line of his jaw, the breadth of his chest, his handsome features. If she mussed his hair, she would see the playful, friendly man she’d met that first day she’d stepped into the library and lost her heart.

Brant bent and retrieved a box from beneath the tree wrapped in silver foil paper and tied with a red bow. He held it out to her.

“Does your family exchange gifts on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day?” Holland asked as she took the box from him and sat on the couch.

Brant turned on the lamp on the nearby table, then sank onto the soft cushions beside her. “No, they do not. Gifts, if we received any, were given Christmas morning. Eloise is a stickler for no peeking or opening of gifts early. However, tonight seems like the right time to give this to you.”

Holland untied the ribbon and set it aside. If nothing else, Charli would love to have it tied in her hair. She carefully removed the paper, then lifted the lid on the box.

Set in a beautiful gilded frame was a watercolor painting of two adorable sea otters floating on their backs in the water, paws held together as they nestled close. Holland recalled what Brant had shared the night of the harvest dance about sea otters holding on to each other so they didn’t drift apart and were never alone. In the bottom right corner was the painter’s signature, a simple B and H.

“Did you paint this, Brant?”

He nodded.

“It’s incredible. I had no idea you could paint as well as sketch. I love it.”

He smiled and pointed to the painting she held. “This might sound ridiculous and seem quite ludicrous, but you are my sea otter, Holland. The one who keeps me from going adrift. The one who ensures I’m part of something bigger than myself. You’re the one person in all the world I want as my anchor in the seas of life. Together, holding close to one another, we can weather any storm, and celebrate the days when the waters are calm. Perhaps I’m saying this quite badly, Holland, but I—”

Holland pressed a finger over his lips to silence him. “You’re saying everything most spectacularly, Brant. Please continue.”

He smiled, lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, then slid off the couch and onto one knee. “Holland, I love you with a depth and surety that is sometimes both frightening and exhilarating. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. If I live to a hundred, I can’t imagine loving anyone else the way I love you. I also can’t imagine my future without you in it, beside me always. Would you please do me the great honor of marrying me, of joining our lives and hearts together, for always? I’ve already spoken with your father, as well as your mother and Denver, and they’ve all offered their blessing and approval.”

Holland set the box with her precious gift on the table by the couch, then took both of Brant’s hands in hers, tugging on them until he resumed his seat beside her. “Are you certain, Brant? I’m not a grand lady. My parents have no fortune or social standing, and neither did any of my ancestors. I don’t bring a thing to you in marriage except a wealth of love, devotion, and sincere promises to walk beside you every day of my life.”

“That is exactly why I want to marry you, Holland. Because no matter what comes, I know you’ll stand beside me, walk with me, and love me. That’s all I need. The rest seems so insignificant and unimportant, doesn’t it, when one is presented with the gift of true love.”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she considered the first true gift of Christmas. The gift of love.

She nodded her head. “Then yes, I’ll marry you, Brant Alexander Hudson. It would be an honor to become your wife.”

“When, Holland?” He slipped a wide platinum band on her left ring finger. The oval diamond sparkled in the firelight. Brant stood and lifted her into his arms, holding her so close and so tenderly, she hoped he’d never let her go. “When will you marry me?”

“Before Eloise, Dean, and the children return to California. Do you think a New Year’s Day wedding might be an apt time to begin our life together?”

Brant grinned as his head lowered to hers. “It would be hard for me to forget an anniversary on the first day of the year,” he teased, but the look in his eyes, reflecting the firelight and the fire in his heart, assured her of the truth. He loved her, she loved him, and together they would build a life here at Hudson House.

Holland lost herself in his kiss, in the promises they shared, before Dean cleared his throat from the doorway, startling them both.

“Eloise has commanded I play the role of chaperone. It’s time for bed, kiddies. Ol’ Saint Nick won’t visit if we aren’t all slumbering soon and dreaming of sugar plums.”

Holland laughed as Brant carried her, arms wrapped around her waist while hers encircled the back of his neck, toward the door.

“Did you loiter at the door long enough to hear the good news, Dean?” Brant asked, smiling at Holland, his gaze never leaving hers.

“No, but I can tell she said yes. When will the happy nuptials take place?”

“New Year’s Day. Think your wife can plan a wedding in a week?”

Dean groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Here we go again. You thought she was militant barking orders for Christmas. That won’t even hold a candle to a wedding.” The man lifted his head and smiled at Holland before kissing her cheek. “Welcome to the family, sister Holland. I wish you both all the happiness your hearts can hold.”

“Thank you, kind sir. I’m not sure mine can hold much more without bursting.” Holland gave Brant one more tight hug, then tapped his shoulder and he set her on her feet. She retrieved her sea otter painting, holding it tightly to her chest. “I love this gift, Brant, more than any I’ve received, and I love you. Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning before we leave for church.”

Holland hurried through the house and down the back stairs to the room where Savannah was just climbing into bed.

She froze, studying Holland’s face, caught the shimmer of the diamond on her finger, then let out a squeal that drew the rest of the staff who slept in the basement to their door.

Holland held up her ring finger, and the rest of the women, even dragon-breath Mrs. Sanders, cheered, offering hearty congratulations.