A Christmas Spark (Hudson House Holiday #2)

Chapter Two

Silver Bluff, Oregon

December 4, 1920

K ase Hudson carefully added black spots to the tiny Appaloosa horse he was painting. His mother had ridden a similar horse named Meadow back when she’d met his father. She’d raised the mare and trained her, or so Kase had heard from family stories. There were a few photographs of his mother riding Meadow, and he’d studied them before he carved a four-inch horse identical to the one Holland Hudson had once loved.

Since January, Kase had been laboring over his mother’s Christmas present. She’d mentioned, in passing, how fun it would be if someone invented a Christmas tree stand that spun the tree around so the decorations could be enjoyed from every direction.

He’d given the idea some thought, and recalled how much his mother and sister both adored carousels. Armed with an idea, he’d drawn a plan on paper, asked his uncle Denver to help him refine the design, then started carving the small detailed pieces eleven months ago.

The carousel itself stood two feet high and three feet wide. He’d created it to sit on top of a table and hold a four-to-five-foot-tall tree. A total of forty animals would be attached by thin brass rods to the carousel when he was all finished with it.

The roof of the carousel, made from alternating pieces of burgundy and green velvet Aunt Savannah had sewn for him, attached to the gold tree holder at the top of the piece. From there, the wedges of fabric were fastened to the circular rounding board—or cresting, depending on who you asked—painted cream with gold trim that formed the edge of the awning above the animals. He’d decorated the cresting with alternating ruby-hued glass stones set in gold filigree and hunter green fleur-de-lis with gold pineapples in the center of them. He’d chosen pineapples to represent the hospitality of his parents, who welcomed anyone who set foot into their home. The cresting added a regal look to the piece.

Uncle Denver’s son Bobby, the estate’s mechanical expert, had helped Kase with the motor part of the piece. They’d already tested it out, and the carousel spun at a perfect speed while the rods moved up and down.

Kase added a few more spots to the horse, then set it on a shelf to dry with the other animals he’d completed. There was a brown Saddlebred horse to represent Gentry, the equine his father had ridden for years. Another animal represented Rufus, their enormous sheepdog who had been a beloved playmate for all the Hudson children in their early years. Kase had added a jersey cow to represent the estate’s dairy, and a red-and-white Hereford for their beef cattle. There was a chicken holding a stalk of wheat and a cat licking her paw. He’d also added an American bison, a giraffe, a zebra, and tiger. One of his favorite animals was a lion roaring, paw raised, ready to strike. Among the other animals included were a pig for the Hudson hogs, as well as a rabbit, fox, and a sea otter. For reasons neither of his parents had ever explained, sea otters seemed to have particular meaning to them.

Kase picked up a reindeer that needed a second coat of paint and gently added color to it before setting it to dry, then cleaned his brushes. His leg had been screaming for a rest for the past hour, and he’d ignored it, as he was prone to do.

Although Kase knew he should be thankful he’d survived the war in France and returned with nothing more than a limp and several scars, it was hard to summon any gratitude. Not when it was the fact that he had survived that bothered him so greatly.

He’d replayed those last moments with Drake over and over and over in his mind. Kase felt as though he’d nearly driven himself mad wondering if there was anything he could have done to save his brother. And why, when they’d been standing so close together, had Drake been the one to die? The mortar could have hit Kase just as easily.

It didn’t seem fair. Nor right. Not when Drake had been so much like their mother—full of sunshine and joy—bringing light and happiness to others.

Every morning when Kase awakened, he felt the pain throbbing in his leg and was reminded that he made it home when so many others who were far more worthy than he had not.

Aware his parents constantly worried about him made him feel even worse. Even Grandpa Jack, his mother’s father, had tried to get him to talk about what was bothering him, but Kase refused.

How could he explain to anyone all the things that were wrong in his heart and life when he didn’t understand them himself?

Some days Kase felt angry. Not just a little upset, but burning with a fury so red and hot, he could hardly see around the vivid edges of it.

Noises in the house, especially any sudden or loud sound, made him jumpy and irritable. He recalled the afternoon he’d been snitching cookies out of the jar Aunt Dulcie kept on the table and one of the kitchen staff accidentally dropped a pot on the floor right behind him. In that instant, he’d been transported back to a battlefield. He’d grabbed a knife on the worktable, swung around to defend himself, and barely missed slicing into the terrorized girl.

That was the day he’d moved into one of the rooms above the stables where male staff members lived. At least out there, other than the occasional backfire from a vehicle, nothing bothered him.

Once his father had realized Kase’s need for solitude, he’d made sure a storage room in the stables was emptied and provided Kase with the space he needed to hide away from everyone. Kase had always liked working with wood. Uncle Denver, one of the most talented carpenters in the region, had taught him everything he knew.

Kase found something relaxing and peaceful in taking a block of basswood and turning it into something cute or creative or meaningful. While he’d been recuperating in a hospital in France, he’d thought he’d start climbing the walls until one of the doctors, a woman who’d grown up in the not-too-distant town of Pendleton, had asked if he had any hobbies. He’d mentioned carving, and the next day she’d brought him a block of soft wood and a pocket knife. The first thing he’d carved had been a Santa holding a bouquet of wheat stalks—since Pendleton was known as wheat country—and presented it to her.

He had no idea why the thought of Santa appealed to him so much. Perhaps because it was a reminder of his childhood, when everything had been rosy and bright, and it had seemed like nothing could ever happen to change that. Or maybe it was just the idea of Santa—a benevolent being bestowing joy and offering hope—that appealed to him.

Regardless, Kase had carved numerous images that represented Santa and Saint Nicholas—from an English Father Christmas, to a Danish Julenisse , to a Russian Koyla . He’d even carved figures of King Wenceslas, and three kings bearing gifts. Some of his carvings were of a round-bellied Santa in a flowing robe with pictures carved into the robe. One of his mother’s favorites was of Santa in blue attire, with the three wise men riding on camels and following the star carved into the flowing robe.

When Kase had awakened in France in the hospital with a chunk of his thigh blown away and his brother dead, he’d decided he was finished with God.

Yet, God hadn’t been finished with him. Despite his efforts to turn away from his Christian upbringing, Kase couldn’t bring himself to let go of his faith. Not when he’d had to lean on it to get him through the dark days right after Drake died, the painful months of recuperation in hospitals in France, and the horrific trip home on a crowded ship. He’d needed faith his suffering would someday end as he bounced across the country in his family’s train car with his parents huddled over him as they traveled back to Silver Bluff.

When he’d arrived home and the community wanted to embrace him as a hero, Kase couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Even though he retreated from the people he’d always known and the life he’d been looking forward to living, part of him knew God was still there with him. If He hadn’t been, Kase would have given up fighting back the swelling darkness threatening to overtake him two years ago.

Lest he dwell too long on things better left alone, Kase finished cleaning up from his work, then slid a wooden screen in front of the carousel just in case his mother happened to come out to the workshop, which rarely happened.

Weary and in need of a rest, he’d just started the painful trek up the stairs to his room when he heard someone call his name. He stopped, turned back, and watched Gareth Steele hurry toward him. The man was his uncle Remington’s nephew and had taken over as the butler when Uncle Rem took the job of estate manager.

“Kase! I’m glad I caught you. Your father has requested you take a car into town to pick up your sister and her friend. They’ll arrive in an hour.” Gareth stood erect and proper as he spoke.

There were many, many other people more suited to making the trip and offering Sarah and Dori a warm welcome. Why on earth would his father ask him to do it? Was it punishment for something Kase had done and forgotten about? Surely he would recall a transgression that notable.

For a moment, Kase considered refusing. Thought about telling Gareth to suggest his father retrieve the girls himself. Instead, he nodded and followed Gareth to the house. If he was going to have to pick up Sarah in town, that required a shower and dressing in a suit, neither of which was available in his room in the stable.

Kase entered through the side door closest to the stable and watched Gareth disappear down the hallway. Likely, he’d head to the library, where the formidable Brant Hudson was at work, and let him know Kase had been located to see to the task.

Rather than rush upstairs, which he was incapable of doing even if he wanted to, Kase made his way to the kitchen.

“Kase! I’m so happy to see you,” Dulcie said, giving him a tender hug and kissing his cheek. “You stink. If you eat your cookies quickly, you can still take a shower and pick up the girls on time.”

Kase leaned back. “Well, hello to you too, Auntie Dulcie.”

Dulcie laughed and handed him three gingersnaps, warm from the oven. “Do you want a glass of milk or a cup of coffee?” she asked and bustled over to the refrigerator that had been installed near the sink.

“Milk will do. Thanks.” Kase hobbled over to the table that had always sat beneath the window where Dulcie kept the cookie jar. Kase recalled the many times through the years he’d sat at the table eating cookies and talking to his aunt. She was beautiful, with honey-brown hair, striking green eyes, and sculpted cheekbones. Although no one had ever said anything to him, he’d heard from his cousins that she was the granddaughter of a runaway slave.

Kase didn’t care if she’d come from a runaway reindeer, as long as she kept baking delicious treats and welcoming him in her kitchen. Her kitchen staff were a bit leery of him these days, and he couldn’t blame them.

He smiled in thanks when Dulcie set a glass of milk in front of him and moved the cookies he’d placed on the table onto a plate.

“Are you excited Sarah is coming home?” Dulcie asked, stepping over to the stove to lift the lid on a pot and stir the contents. Kase sniffed the aromatic steam that rose from it and hoped it meant they were having chicken and dumplings for dinner. It was one of Sarah’s favorite meals, and Kase loved it too.

Kase considered her question as he ate a cookie and drank a few gulps of milk. He loved his sister, but her presence at Hudson House complicated things because she wouldn’t be content to let him hide in the stables and leave him be. Sarah would insist upon his participation in the family holiday traditions, and she’d drag him into her version of fun festivities whether he liked it or not.

Honestly, he dreaded Christmas because Drake’s absence would be so noticeable and painful. It certainly had been last year. Kase had tried to block out the holiday and hoped it passed quickly. He had a feeling this year wouldn’t be any different or better.

Yet, he couldn’t say any of that to Dulcie, so he nodded his head. “It’ll be nice to have Sarah home.”

“And Miss Dori too. I haven’t seen that child in ages, although I supposed she’s as grown-up as your sister is now.”

The thought of Dori Stanford being grown-up hadn’t even flicked through his mind. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been fifteen or so, and she’d spent all summer making calf eyes at him and Drake until he’d wanted to laugh, or tell her to focus on boys her own age. At nineteen, he’d thought himself so mature.

Then the war had come along, and now Kase felt ancient. There were days he was sure he’d grown older than his parents.

Regardless, he hoped Sarah and her friend had a nice holiday and break from school before they returned to California and college classes in January.

Unwilling to launch into a discussion about Dori, a girl he barely recalled from his youth, Kase shoved the last bite of cookie into his mouth, drained his glass of milk, and stood. He kissed Dulcie’s cheek, then silently limped out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He could have taken the servants’ stairs up to his room, but the thought of climbing all the narrow steps made his thigh throb in protest. He instead made his way to a newly installed Otis elevator.

His father had hired a company from Portland to install it before Kase had arrived home from France. Although Kase was grateful for the convenience of it, the reason it was there rankled every time he set foot inside the elevator car.

Kase stepped out of the elevator and walked to his bedroom to find the door open, the radiator adding welcome warmth to the room, and a neatly pressed suit on the bed. Apparently, someone decided he’d need help dressing appropriately. Just because he spent most of his time in worn jeans and soft flannel or cotton shirts didn’t mean he was incapable of donning attire suitable for meeting his sister in town.

He shed his clothes, stepped into the shower, and let the hot water ease some of his aches and pains before he shaved, combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and dressed. He ignored the polished shoes one of the valets had set out for him, and instead pulled on a pair of felt-lined boots that would keep his feet warm and dry in the snow that covered the ground.

Kase checked to make sure there was sufficient money in his wallet and slid it into his pocket, gathered a package of gum and a few coins along with a handkerchief, then forced himself to snug a tie around his neck.

After settling a fedora on his head at a slight angle, he grabbed his coat and a pair of gloves, then opened his bedroom door.

“Oh, don’t you look handsome, honey,” his mother said as she patted his cheek. He wondered how long she’d stood in the hall waiting for him.

“Thanks, Mama. Do you want to come with me?”

“I would, Kase, but I still have a few things to do before the girls arrive. You know that Dori Stanford is coming with your sister, don’t you?” Holland asked as she walked with Kase to the elevator.

“Aunt Dulcie mentioned it. Does she still run around with a camera, pretending to be a photographer?”

Holland gave him a long look. “She never pretended, honey.”

He could have puzzled out what the statement and the expression on his mother’s face meant, but he was running out of time to get to Silver Bluff before the train arrived.

“In case you’ve forgotten, it might be best not to mention her parents. You do recall George and Edith perished when their ship sank two-and-a-half years ago, don’t you?”

Kase hadn’t recalled that detail, if anyone had bothered to mention it to him. They likely had, and he’d chosen to ignore it because it didn’t have anything to do with Drake, woodcarving, or Kase’s self-imposed misery. He felt a pang of sorrow for Dori, though. He couldn’t imagine life without his parents in it. They drove him crazy, but they loved him, and they’d given him and his siblings a loving home in which to grow.

“I won’t mention her parents. Anything else I should know?”

“No, other than your sister sold all the Santas you sent with her, and she already has orders for next year. Your talent is becoming well-known, Kase. We’re proud of you.”

He smiled at his mother and bent his head down when she stretched to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t dawdle, honey. We don’t want the girls waiting in the cold. They might like a soda or treat before you head home. Be sure you have them back in time for dinner. Dulcie is making all of Sarah’s favorites.”

“Got it. No dawdling. Soda. Dinner.” Kase stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to take him to the main floor. “Bye, Mama.”

“Drive safely, Kase, and thank you!” she called as the elevator doors closed.

Kase released a sigh and limped toward the side door nearest the stables when he reached the main floor.

Thankfully, Bobby had brought around Kase’s car and left it at the end of the shoveled walk. A car heater he’d asked Bobby to install right after he’d purchased the car kept it warmer than most.

Kase sank onto the leather seat with a sigh and started toward town in his Doble steam car.

He’d loved the car the first time he’d seen one in San Francisco in 1917. He’d ordered one, and when the pale-yellow wonder with burgundy and gold trim had arrived, Kase thought it was grand. Then he’d slid behind the wheel and discovered the vehicle would accelerate from zero to sixty miles per hour in just fifteen seconds. The car included a steam condenser that enabled the water supply to last up to fifteen hundred miles, a huge improvement over other steam cars that could only go about twenty miles before the tank had to be filled.

The automobile practically screamed luxury, something Kase typically avoided, but he loved his Doble. He enjoyed speeding down the road toward town, taking in the blue sky and the blanket of snow that coated the world in a pristine layer of white.

Kase wondered what it would be like to fly far above and look down on the earth below. He’d heard one of his fellow soldiers from the 91 st , Harley John Hobbs, had purchased a surplus plane left over from the war and traveled all over the region in it. Maybe one of these days, Kase would see if Harley John would give him a ride just for the thrill of the experience.

Until then, he’d be better off keeping both feet on the ground. It wasn’t like he had great balance anymore with his injury.

Kase was grateful the doctors had been able to save his leg. All too many had lost a limb, or limbs, during the war. He had no idea what miracles had occurred, but he’d heard two of the nurses talking about how long the doctor had labored over his leg, digging out every fragment of shrapnel, bark, and dirt that might cause an infection before a graft of skin was eventually stitched onto his thigh so the wound could be closed.

His thigh wasn’t a sight for the weak of constitution to see, but he could walk. He could do most things he used to do, with a few exceptions, like dancing. Not that he’d tried, but no woman in her right mind wanted to be on a dance floor with a man whose fastest movement was a lopsided shuffle.

Kase tried not to think about the war, wounds, or those who never made it home as he drove into Silver Bluff and headed for the train depot.

He pulled up and parked, but before he could get out of the car, Sarah waved and ran toward him. Kase hustled to get out and brace himself against the door for the impact of her boisterous hug.

“Kase! I’m so, so happy you came. Aren’t you the bee’s knees? You look like a sheik!” She pressed her cheek to his. “I’ve missed you.”

She stepped back, but before he could admit he had missed her and the vibrant energy she brought to Hudson House, a vision of beauty caught his eye. From the black cloche hat resting at a saucy angle on top of bobbed brown curls, to the toes of her heeled ankle boots lined with fur, Dori Stanford was not the girl he remembered from years gone by.

She had matured into a beguiling woman with ivory skin, marred only by a single mole on her left cheek, and a cute upturned nose. Her amber eyes held light and intelligence, while her soft rosy lips drew his gaze. Absently, he wondered if they’d taste as sweet as they looked.

Her coat, in a rich shade of deep red that made her look both festive and elegant, contrasted sharply to the snow around them and the background of the brilliant winter sky.

It had been a long, long time since Kase had taken an interest in a female. The fact that he couldn’t seem to cease gaping at Dori left him feeling more than a little discombobulated.

“Kase, you remember Dori, don’t you?” Sarah asked, placing a hand on his arm and bringing him back into the moment.

“Of course. It’s been a while, Miss Stanford.” He politely tipped his hat to her. “Welcome to Silver Bluff. I hope you’ll enjoy your holiday with us at Hudson House.”

Dori smiled at him—not a full smile, but one that seemed slightly cautious—and offered him a cool nod. “Thank you, Mr. Hudson. I’m so pleased Sarah invited me to spend the holiday here.”

“Well, you goose!” Sarah wrapped her arm around Dori’s shoulders. “What did you think? I’d leave you at the mercy of Uncle Dean’s jokes for a month?”

“Surely not anything so drastic and terrible,” Kase said, winking at his sister.

Sarah grinned. “At dinner the other night, Uncle Dean said” —Sarah furrowed her brow and lowered her voice in an attempt to imitate her uncle—“‘I ran into a young woman and her father today. He introduced her as Marigold. When I mentioned it was an unusual name, he told me her mother named her that because it’s what she intends for her to do. Marry gold.’”

Kase smirked. “That sounds exactly like something our uncle would consider a joke.” He glanced behind the girls to where boxes were being unloaded from the family’s private car. “Did you bring half of San Francisco with you?”

“No, only a little bit of it.” Sarah leaned on his arm and waved a hand toward the growing stack of boxes. “We can cram them in your car, can’t we? They’re important, Kase, and a surprise for everyone. I don’t want to leave them unattended. Maybe I should pay a driver to bring them out and ride with him.”

“We’ll make them fit,” he said, wanting to do something to please his sister. For the most part, he’d been surly and unapproachable since he’d returned from the war. Making sure the boxes made it to the house was the least he could do to atone for past transgressions.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but finally all the boxes and suitcases were loaded, tightly packed in the back of his car. A suitcase rested beneath the feet of the girls as they crowded against him in the front seat. Sarah held a bag on her lap, while a small leather trunk rested on Dori’s as she sat with her elbow nearly poking his ribs and a scent reminiscent of spring wildflowers in bloom tantalized his nose.

He brushed a finger beneath his nose, hoping to dislodge the decadent fragrance, then put the car in gear. His only thought was to get home and out of such close proximity to the woman. He made no offer to stop for a soda or sweets. Instead, he sped through town and onto what had become known as Hudson Road.

“It’s so beautiful with the snow. How long has it been on the ground?” Sarah asked as she stared out the car’s windows.

“The day after Thanksgiving. It snowed a skiff that night, then snowed off and on the last several days. It’s nice to have sunshine and blue sky today, even if it is cold enough to freeze Mama’s heart.”

Dori gave him an odd look, so he felt the need to explain.

“Our mother has one of the warmest, biggest hearts of anyone. If it is cold enough to freeze it, then we might as well set up camp at the North Pole with Santa.”

Sarah nodded. “Uncle Denver is the one who started the saying, but I guess we all adopted it to refer to it being exceptionally cold outside.”

Dori’s head bobbed once, then she shifted slightly, her leg brushing his. Kase felt an electrical current rush through him with such force, his nerve endings all felt charged.

He sighed and clenched the steering wheel.

This was going to be the longest ten-minute drive, and holiday season, of his life.