A Christmas Dream (Hudson House Holiday #1)

Chapter Fifteen

Brant cleared his throat, fighting the urge to tug on his collar as he stood with the pastor in the church. Remington and Dean waited beside him for his wedding to begin.

Eloise had fussed and planned, barked orders, and worked miracles to transform the church and the Silver Bluff community hall into winter gardens of rare beauty. He had no idea how many train car loads of flowers and greens had been express shipped from California, and he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Holland was marrying him and they were beginning this new year as husband and wife.

The church pianist switched songs, and Brant straightened, watching as Savannah, and then Eloise, marched toward them along the aisle of the church which was lined with dainty bouquets of white flowers and ivy tied with delicate peach-colored bows.

Brant thought about all that had happened in the past week. He’d hosted his first event at Hudson House, been heartily welcomed into the community he’d formerly skirted around, and Holland had agreed to marry him.

He’d known with absolute clarity she would be a wonderful partner by his side during the party and luncheon they’d held for the estate employees on Christmas. As he watched her pass out gifts to the children that she’d helped select and wrap, and encouraged each family to take a basket of oranges from the stack piled head high in the entry, he knew God had given him the perfect helpmate in Holland. Together they would step into their future and walk the journey ahead of them, holding tightly to each other lest one of them go adrift.

He smiled, recalling when Holland had insisted on hanging the sea otter painting in the sitting room. She was so proud of the art that would always serve as a sentimental reminder of the love they shared.

Eloise had also been pleased with the watercolor he’d made of her family. Unbeknownst to her, he’d sketched them one evening as they all sat in the library around the fireplace while Dean read the children a story. It had been a touching scene to witness, and Brant had been able to capture it on paper. His sister had tears in her eyes when she’d opened the gift Christmas morning and had given him a hug so tight it had nearly cut off his air supply.

Brant had discovered how happy it made him to make others happy through the gifts he’d chosen.

Remington had been speechless when Brant had presented him with his gift. He’d promoted the man to the official title of estate manager and increased his wages accordingly. Gareth had shown an affinity for serving as a butler, and Remington would continue training him to take over that role, while Dalton worked to learn all he needed to know about being the head footman.

In addition to the increase in pay, Brant had also given Remington the deed to ten acres of property located on the west side of the estate, near the apple orchards on a slight hill. The view was stupendous, but more importantly, it gave Remington something of his own. Included in the gift was the building of a house come spring when the laborers could lay the foundation.

His lifelong friend had tried to explain the gift was too much, but Brant refused to listen. Remington had always been there for him, and Brant wanted him to know how much he valued his friendship, support, and wisdom.

A giggle drew his thoughts back to the moment as he watched Mayes and Bobby somberly walk down the aisle, each of them carrying a pillow with a ring tied to it, followed by Clara and Charli, who tossed rose petals with such abandon, they floated in the air and landed on guests in aisle seats.

Brant tried not to laugh at their antics.

The music shifted again and everyone in the church stood, watching as Holland floated down the aisle on the arm of her father in a gorgeous gown Eloise had express shipped from a well-known dressmaker in Baker City. The simple style of the glistening white silk gown accented with rich lace trim suited Holland.

As she walked toward him, her gaze tangled with his. Brant smiled, knowing he was looking into his future, seeing it filled with laughter, joy, and love.

The ceremony proceeded in a tender, heartfelt manner that left nary a dry eye in the church. Thankfully, Charli added a bit of humor when the pastor announced it was time for Brant to kiss his bride.

She glanced over at Mayes and made an exaggerated kissy-face that caused everyone to laugh, including Brant and Holland.

Eloise had refused to allow Holland to see the community hall, so Brant was prepared for her gasp of surprise when they walked into the building half an hour later after standing at the door of the church greeting their guests.

Bowers of greens, tables adorned with flowers and candles, white linens and silver place settings made it feel as though they’d stepped into a tea party at the home of an elfin king. When his sister had insisted the reception should be held in Silver Bluff, Brant had wanted to argue. They could have held it at Hudson House using the dining room and formal parlor, or even the attic, which was still decorated from the Christmas Eve ball because the children had found such delight in playing up there.

Eloise had been right again, though. By holding the wedding and reception in Silver Bluff, the entire community had felt involved in the event, and it gave Holland’s family a better opportunity to be part of the planning and decorating.

“This is the most glorious, spectacular thing I’ve ever seen,” Holland said, giving Brant a hug, then allowing him to lead her to the head table where they would sit for the meal. Dulcie and the kitchen staff had been cooking for days, but Dulcie had assured him it was her gift to them—preparing a wedding feast—even if parts of it had been transported from Hudson House into town the day before.

Brant didn’t care about the decorations or the food, or even the photographer who’d come all the way from California to take photos of the special day. It was about Holland and the love they shared that Brant knew would never dim, only grow deeper and richer with time.

Hours later, after the luncheon had been cleared away, the cake cut and served, and guests sent home with little boxes of butter cookies in the shape of wedding bells, Brant escorted Holland out to the carriage that would take them to his private train car.

He had no desire to be anywhere except with Holland, but they’d decided to spend a week at his home in Portland. Dean, Eloise, and the children would join them there for a few days before they began their trip home to San Francisco. Holland and Eloise were already talking about a shopping excursion. He was exceptionally pleased the two women who meant the most to him in the world were already becoming good friends.

Although Brant had offered to take Holland on a honeymoon to Paris, London, or anywhere she wished, she had sweetly kissed his cheek and told him the only place she really wanted to be was with him.

That was just one more of the many, many reasons he loved her.

“Are you ready?” Brant asked as he gave Holland his hand and helped her up the steps of his private train car.

“I’m ready for whatever lies ahead, husband of mine, as long as we travel this journey together.”

“Always.” Brant kissed her fingers, then wrapped her in his embrace. He might have built the house of his dreams on the bluff overlooking the river, but the woman in his arms, so full of light and joy, was where he knew he’d finally found a home.