A Christmas Spark (Hudson House Holiday #2)

Chapter Four

I mmediately after breakfast, Dori excused herself to the dining room where the table had been stretched to its full impressive length, and the boxes of photographs had been set on the surface at various intervals.

A stack of small wooden crates with lids were piled against the wall, while document folders, three new fountain pens, and a sheaf of blank papers were neatly stacked in the center of the table.

Dori opened the box on the farthest end and began sorting through the contents. She didn’t recognize a single face in the box full of photographs of smiling and somber families.

It amazed her how, with a glance, she could tell if the people in the photos were happy. Loving. Caring. Devoted. Some were, many were not, which made her think of her comment the previous evening about Holland and Brant. The kind of love they shared wasn’t something common. It was like a rare flower that needed careful attention to ensure it continued to thrive and blossom year after year.

Her parents had enjoyed that kind of relationship and love. Although she missed them both dreadfully, she was glad if one of them had to die, they left this earth together. It’s what they would have wanted—to be together until the end.

That’s what Dori wanted when she finally gave her heart away. A man who loved her so much he couldn’t imagine life without her in it.

However, she doubted that man existed, at least not among the self-indulgent, arrogant cads she’d met at college. The attitude held by many of them that a person should wring every drop of life out of each day regardless of who their actions hurt or the possible consequences wasn’t how Dori wanted to walk through her days.

Perhaps she was old-fashioned, a bit too traditional, but she owned a strong compass when it came to her morals and values. So did Sarah, which was probably why they were such good friends.

It sometimes amused her that her mother’s best friend’s niece had become Dori’s best friend. Although the world was a huge place, sometimes it did, indeed, seem small.

Her present location, though, was not small. Not by any measure of the imagination. Hudson House was a massive place full of art and beauty, luxury and grandeur. But the most important thing that filled the home was love.

Naturally, though quite unbidden, her thoughts swerved to Kase. He’d seemed genuinely happy to see Sarah at the depot yesterday, but once they were in the car speeding to Hudson House, he’d hardly spoken two words and remained quiet throughout dinner and the rest of the evening. At least he’d played the board game. He’d made a half-hearted effort at engaging in the fun, and he’d certainly seemed to savor the delicious cake Dulcie had made for dessert.

This morning, though, Kase was conspicuously absent at breakfast. Sarah had asked her parents about it. A wounded expression had passed across Brant’s face, while Holland appeared to fight back tears.

“He needs more time to adjust,” Holland had said, then changed the subject.

Dori knew Kase had been home for more than a year and a half. If he hadn’t adjusted in that length of time, what made anyone think he ever would?

Sarah said doctors from New York to Portland had all told her father the same thing—to give Kase time to come to terms with how profoundly his life had changed.

Dori couldn’t imagine losing a sibling the way he had. According to what Sarah had shared with her, the two brothers had been standing side by side when Drake had been killed. Kase had been knocked into the air and a piece of his thigh blown away.

The outstanding thing to her was the fact that Kase hadn’t lost his leg, as so many others had. Instead of being grateful for the gift of two legs to carry him wherever he wanted to go, he seemed to be remorseful he’d been the one to survive.

She wondered if he failed to realize his family would be grieved just as deeply if he’d been the one to perish on the battlefield instead of Drake. Maybe he needed reminders of how important he was to them, to feel valued by his loved ones.

Dori was considering the possibilities when Sarah breezed into the room, her coat tossed over her arm and a knit hat dangling from her fingers. “I can’t wait to go see Grandpa Jack. Would you like to come with me?”

“No. You go and visit your family, Sarah. I don’t wish to intrude. Before you tell me I wouldn’t be, we both know I would. Besides, I truly am determined to straighten out this mess of photos and see how many families I can contact. Wouldn’t it be lovely to send these all out in time for them to receive them for Christmas?”

“It would be wonderful, but you’re going to need help if Christmas is the deadline. I’ll hurry, then you can put me to work.”

Dori shook her head. “No. Enjoy your time with your family. Tell your grandfather I send my warmest regards and that I look forward to seeing him Sunday at church.”

“I will.” Sarah gave her a quick hug, then sailed out the door with the same vibrant energy her mother possessed.

Dori worked for an hour, so involved in sorting through photographs she didn’t even notice Gareth Steele, the butler, approach her. She gasped and jumped, dropping a handful of photos on the floor.

“My apologies, Miss Stanford. I assumed you heard my approach, but I should have announced myself.” He set a steaming cup of fragrant tea on the table, then bent to retrieve the photos. He studied one and smiled. “It’s nice to see my brother’s face.”

“You know the people in the photographs?” she gaped at the butler.

Gareth nodded. “I do. That’s my mother and father, my brother, and sister. Behind us is Uncle Remington’s house when it was being constructed. The photograph was taken the summer my parents and sister came to visit. Dalton and I both worked here at the estate at the time, before he took a job with Mr. Hudson in Portland.”

Dori hastily wrote descriptions on a piece of paper and set them into the folder with the photographs. “Would you like to keep these photos?”

“I think you should ask Uncle Remington. He’d probably be most pleased to have them.” Gareth glanced down at her and then around the messy table. “Is there anything I may do to provide assistance, Miss Stanford?”

“Yes.” Dori pushed out a chair. “Sit there a few minutes and tell me if you recognize any of these faces.”

For the next twenty minutes, Gareth looked through the piles of photographs with faces unfamiliar to her. He only recognized one family who’d moved away years ago but had been friends with Holland. Dori recorded the scant details he recalled about the family and tucked them into the document folder, then set it aside.

“I apologize for having kept you.”

“No apology needed. Mr. Hudson instructed me to offer whatever assistance you might require today, and insisted I bring you three of his favorite pens.”

Dori grinned. “As fond as he is of the pens, I’m surprised he hasn’t bought the company by now.”

Gareth grinned. “What makes you think he hasn’t tried?”

She gaped at him, and he chuckled softly as he left the room.

Dori finished the tea that had grown cold and continued sorting through photos.

She decided to place photos of strangers on one end of the table, and members of the Hudson family, including their staff, on the other. In the center, she organized the folders of people she recognized, even if some of the names eluded her. She figured Brant and Holland might have some idea of how to contact the families.

Sarah sent word she was taking lunch with her grandfather at her uncle Boston’s home. Holland had gone to Savannah’s home to work on plans for Christmas, and Brant had departed for a meeting with the manager of the estate’s beef production.

Dori’s stomach growled with hunger when one of the housemaids, a young woman named Maude, appeared in the doorway and bobbed a curtsy to Dori. “Lunch is served in the breakfast room, Miss Stanford, whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be there momentarily.”

Dori visited one of the numerous bathrooms throughout the house to wash her hands and face. Much to her embarrassment, she had a smear of ink on the tip of her nose. After scrubbing it off, she made her way to the breakfast room. The table was set for two, with a soup tureen in the center, a cloth-covered basket, and delicious aromas in the air that caused her stomach to growl again.

“Either you’re hungry or a wolverine is hiding under the table,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

Dori spun around and stared at Kase, surprised to find him lounging against the frame of the door, his hands and face bearing evidence of a recent washing although he had paint on his shirt sleeve and sawdust in his hair.

He looked so ruggedly handsome, so masculine and attractive standing there at that moment, she fought the urge to walk over to him and trail her fingers across the stubble on his chin.

Instead, she straightened her posture and lifted her chin. “If you were a gentleman, you’d pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Kase smirked and pushed away from the doorframe with his shoulder. He limped toward her and pulled out a chair. “No one would dare accuse me of being a gentleman, Miss Stanford.”

“Call me Dori. Please?”

He sank onto his chair, appearing to consider her request before he nodded. “Dori. I hear you’ve been hard at work sorting photographs this morning. Did you find any of interest?”

Dori smiled. “They all interest me, Kase. Every face captures my attention because it makes me want to know more about them. To know what they were thinking and feeling and living when my father took the photograph and preserved an image—a reminder—of that precise moment in their life.”

The look on Kase’s face was thoughtful, as though he’d never considered photographs in that manner, then he bowed his head and asked a brief blessing on their meal.

“Aunt Dulcie made chicken stew and biscuits. I hope you don’t mind. We keep things pretty simple around here unless there’s a big shindig and we all have to behave like the lords and ladies of the manor.”

Surprised at his words, Dori studied him. “Do you hate this life so much, Kase?”

He gawked at her a moment before he removed the lid on the soup tureen and dished a bowl for her. “I don’t hate this life. It’s an honor and privilege, even if it does bear more responsibilities than I can endure most days.”

“I see,” Dori said, although she didn’t. The ancestry of a fine pedigree had opened doors for her, but to live in such wealth, with anything she desired at the tips of her fingers, was foreign to her. Even when she stayed with Aunt Eloise and Uncle Dean, she was their guest. It wasn’t their place to provide for her anyway.

Conflicted by her thoughts and feelings, Dori tamped them down and focused instead on the filling, tasty lunch. The basket contained Dulcie’s legendary biscuits which both she and Kase slathered with butter and a thick layer of blackberry jam.

“I could swim in a vat of that jam,” Dori said as she took a bite from her second biscuit.

Kase chuckled. “I’d pay money to watch that. How deep are you thinking?”

Dori couldn’t help it. She laughed, then choked on the bite she’d just swallowed.

Kase handed her the glass of water by her plate and patted her back a few times until she ceased coughing.

“Thank you,” she said, when she could once again speak. “I didn’t realize you still possessed a sense of humor.”

“There’s probably a lot about me no one realizes,” he said cryptically, then asked her if she’d like to go for a drive around the estate that afternoon.

She felt like he’d dangled not only an olive branch in front of her with the invitation, but also cracked a door he didn’t open to many.

“I would like that very much. When would you prefer to depart?”

Kase shrugged and took a bite of the stew. “Around two? Just come to my workshop when you’re ready.”

“Okay. I will. And your workshop is in the stables?”

He nodded. “It is. You can’t miss it. Just follow the smell of paint.”

“What are you painting?” She leaned back and wondered how hard it would be to peel away one of the many layers she was sure comprised Kase Alexander Hudson.

A teasing glint shimmered in his eyes. “Christmas secrets.”

“Oh, now I’m intrigued. You must tell.” She leaned toward him, hoping he’d divulge something that sounded confidential.

“I mustn’t, Dori. If you blab like my sister, you can’t be trusted not to tell what I’m making.”

She laughed. “Sarah is the worst at keeping secrets. She can’t even hold it in for five minutes before she’s blurting it out, even if it’s right to the person who just told her not to utter a word.”

“Exactly.”

Their lunch conversation proved engaging. Both of them offered teasing comments. Dori might have thought Kase was flirting with her at one point, but that couldn’t be the case, could it?

Unlike some of the modern girls who made flirting their number-one priority, and catching any fellow who looked at them a close second, Dori did neither. Her parents had been strict when it came to boys and appropriate behavior for a young lady.

Now Dori was grateful for their teachings and encouragement, even if she’d despised it at fourteen.

Dulcie appeared and set dessert in front of them. She turned to Dori. “Did he share the biscuits, or devour them all?”

Dori glanced over at Kase, who sat with his spoon hovered over his dish of custard. “He shared, but I thought I might have to arm wrestle him to get a second one.”

Kase made a noise suspiciously like a growl. “Just try it.”

“He would have let you win,” Dulcie said with a laugh and picked up the nearly empty tureen. “I had a few lemons I needed to use, so you get lemon custard and butter cookies for dessert.”

“It looks wonderful, Dulcie,” Dori said, eager to taste the custard. “Every bite of lunch was delicious. Thank you.”

“Of course, child. Enjoy.” Dulcie took the empty basket that had held biscuits with her and left the room.

Dori dipped her spoon in the still-warm creamy dessert and took a bite. “Oh, my gracious!” She spooned another bite, slowly savoring it. “It’s like a decadent spoonful of summer.”

“I know. Mama loves lemon flavors, so she’ll be sorry she missed lunch with us today, but I’m sure Dulcie saved a bowl for her to eat later.”

“It’s wonderful how so many members of your mother’s family are part of the estate. Tell me how you’re all related.”

Kase gave her a look that said he was certain Sarah had told her plenty of times, but he indulged her request. “Remington Monroe was Dad’s butler and best friend. He promoted him to estate manager just before Dad and Mama wed. Uncle Remington married Savannah, Mama’s sister, later that year. Uncle Denver was the oldest of the Drake siblings, and he took a fancy to Dulcie. When they married, he adopted her son, Bobby, as his own, although Bobby continues to go by Anders. Uncle Boston married Serena, one of the housemaids, and took over running Grandpa Jack’s farm. Uncle Austin took over managing the dairy operations of the estate and he married Aunt Maggie after meeting her on a business trip to Portland. The youngest of Mama’s family, Aunt Charli, went off to college in Philadelphia and married Edward Thorndale, whose family owns the Thorndale department stores located all over the East Coast. According to Mama, Aunt Charli always wanted to be a pampered princess, and Uncle Ed is making her every wish come true.”

Dori laughed, picturing the beautiful blonde-haired Charli sitting on a throne with a glittering crown atop her curls. “Should we all be so fortunate,” Dori quipped, then took another bite of the custard.

She refrained from asking about his father’s family. From things her mother had shared, she knew Eloise and Brant had severed ties with the New York Hudson family years ago. The whole lot of them were selfish, greedy, and cruel. Brant’s brothers had taken over the family business and lost most of the fortune in bad investments. Part of Dori couldn’t help feeling it served them right for being despicable humans.

Often when she thought of Eloise and Brant, she contemplated how, compared to the rest of their siblings, they’d grown up to be good, kind, generous people. Perhaps having each other to lean on had helped shape their personalities and values over the years.

Kase finished his custard at the same time Dori took the last bite of hers. She could tell he was antsy to get up from the table, but good manners would keep him in his seat until she rose. Dori stood and began gathering dishes.

“You don’t have to do that,” Kase said, taking the dishes from her hand and stacking them with his. She thought he’d meant she should leave it for a maid, but it was clear he intended to clean up the table himself.

Taken aback by that, by his thoughtfulness for the busy staff, she took the plates and cutlery while he carried the bowls and glasses and followed him to the kitchen.

“You didn’t need to bring in the dishes,” Dulcie said as she tipped her head toward the sink while she tied string around the legs of roasting chickens. “But thank you. It’s appreciated.”

“Thank you for another great meal, Aunt Dulcie,” Kase said, kissing the woman’s cheek.

“Yes, thank you, Dulcie. It was delightful. The lemon custard was absolutely fantastic.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Dori. Do you two have afternoon plans?”

Dori nodded as Kase sidled to the door. “I’m going to work on my photo organization project for a while, then Kase offered to show me new developments on the estate.”

“Indeed,” Dulcie said, eyeing her nephew. “Have fun.”

Kase stepped into the hall, and Dori followed him. “At two?” she asked to his departing back as he headed for the door on the side of the house that would bring him out near the stables.

“Two,” he said without even turning around.

Dori returned to the dining room and managed to work her way through a box of photographs, faces unfamiliar but joyful. She placed them on the unknown end, as she was coming to think of that far end of the table, in document folders grouped by family.

She retrieved a photo she’d happened upon of Kase with his uncle Denver, heads bent close together. Kase couldn’t have been more than eight. He held a knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. Denver was behind him, guiding his hands as he attempted to whittle the wood. Wood shavings littered the floor around them, and a beam of sunlight slid over Denver’s right shoulder to touch the top of Kase’s head. The boy’s tongue curled up to touch his upper lip, and his face was a study of intense concentration.

“Adorable,” Dori mumbled before sliding the photograph into an envelope so it wouldn’t get damaged on her short walk out to the stables.

After exchanging her low-heeled shoes for snow boots and retrieving her outerwear, she hurried outside and along the cobblestone path to the stables. Inside, the warmth of the building felt inviting. It smelled of horses, leather, and wood, with an underlying note of fresh paint. She looked in a few of the large stalls, admiring the beautiful horses. Although the Hudson family mostly drove autos these days, they kept a dozen horses for riding and had a team for pulling a sleigh.

Dori remembered playing in the stables the spring she’d come to Hudson House, but couldn’t recall the location of anything specific inside it.

She wandered past a tack room, what appeared to be an office, then stood in the doorway of a converted stall to admire the assortment of wood projects Kase appeared to be in the midst of creating. Everything from door trim to a chair with a broken spindle covered the sturdy workbench. Shelves full of carving tools, Santa figurines, Christmas ornaments, and painting supplies lined the room. A screen hid the contents of the corner, and she wondered what he’d placed there.

He’d been setting a newly painted Santa on a shelf to dry when she stepped into the workshop. Dori studied the scene of a couple in a sleigh dashing through the snow that adorned the front of Santa’s flowing robe.

Kase turned around and glanced at her in surprise, then looked at the clock hanging high on the wall. “Sorry, Dori. I lost track of time. It will just take a moment for me to wash up, then we can go.”

“I’m not in a hurry, Kase. Take your time. I’ll just look around and see what Christmas secrets I can discover while I’m waiting.”

He frowned. “See all you like, but no telling. It’s important, because it’s a surprise for Mama.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Kase. Promise.” Dori held her hand up in the air, like she made a solemn vow.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“I would never, sir!” she said with mock indignation, then swallowed a giggle when he made a silly face before limping out of the room.

She noticed he tried to hide his limp, but it was impossible. Dori thought he should walk proudly, letting the limp serve as a reminder he had survived a tragedy. However, she had a strong feeling Kase did not feel that way about the wound nor his survival.

Sarah had shared her thoughts that Kase wished he could trade places with Drake, and even his friends who had perished in the war.

It hurt Dori’s heart to think about how much Kase was suffering, how hard everything must seem, especially when the people at home had no idea of the horrors he’d witnessed.

Determined to show kindness and understanding to him without any pity, because he would hate it, she browsed around the workshop while she waited for him. Her gaze landed on a Santa who held a rolling pin in one hand and a basket filled with what appeared to be biscuits in the other. It had yet to be painted, but even the design of the raw wood was marvelous. She had to assume the gift was intended for Dulcie.

A new thought struck her. What if Kase were interested in one of the kitchen staff?

“Well, what of it?” she muttered.

“What was that?” Kase asked, entering the room with the sawdust combed out of his hair, his hands clean, and it appeared he’d changed his shirt. He held his coat in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

“Nothing. Just admiring your amazing talent. Is this one for a certain cook?” she asked, pointing to the baker Santa.

Kase grinned. “It is. Please don’t tell Aunt Dulcie. I want it to be a surprise.”

“All Christmas secrets are safe with me.”

“Well, that’s good to know. In that case, please keep Sarah away from the workshop because it would be a tragedy for her to discover what I’ve made everyone.”

“I shall endeavor to do that, if she mentions a visit out here.” Dori followed as Kase stepped outside his workshop, then closed the door and locked it. “It might help if you spent more time in the house in the evening. Sarah said you usually disappear after dinner, if you eat with them. It was such fun playing Parcheesi last night. Do you think your father is up for another game this evening?”

Kase shrugged, then slipped on his coat and held open a door that went into a newly constructed auto barn where an assortment of automobiles were parked.

“Is that you, Dori Stanford?” asked a handsome man with his hands covered in grease and a cap turned sideways on his head as though he’d leaned against something and it had been knocked askew.

She was happy to see Dulcie’s son, Bobby, and quite pleased he recognized her.

“It is me, Bobby,” Dori said, then offered him a teasing grin. “My gracious! When did you get so old and ugly?”

Bobby laughed, and, to her surprise, so did Kase.

“Ugly, is it?” Bobby asked, tossing down the rag and starting toward her, arms out, like he intended to give her a big hug.

Dori squealed and ducked behind Kase, using him as a human shield.

Kase glanced over his shoulder at her with a look that made her feel about nine years old. She decided to play the part and stuck her tongue out at him, then at Bobby, making the men laugh again.

“Golly, it’s good to see you, Dori. The place comes alive when you and Sarah are here. Will you stay through the holidays?” Bobby asked, picking up a clean rag and wiping his hands.

“Yes. Until January, when the next school semester begins. How have you been? I hear you’re now in charge of the automobiles and anything mechanical.”

“That’s what they tell me. Mostly, I get to play around with these nice vehicles.” Bobby waggled his eyebrows and tipped his head toward Kase. “Just don’t tell the boss I’m having fun.”

“I won’t.” She pretended to tick a lock over her lips and throw away a key.

“Hope she keeps a secret better than your sister,” Bobby commented dryly to Kase.

“You and me both.” Kase pointed to a doorway. “Our ride should be here.”

“We aren’t taking a car?” Dori asked, looking with longing at the luxury vehicles.

“Nope. It would likely end up in the snow, and you’d be the one having to push it through the drifts.”

Dori had no idea if Kase was joking or serious, but she followed as he led the way through a doorway at the end of the auto barn and stepped outside into the brisk December afternoon. Not ten feet away awaited a two-passenger sleigh hooked to a sleek black horse. The cutter looked new, with shiny dark-blue paint accented with silver, and matching blue velvet upholstered seats.

“Oh, Kase! How fun!” Dori couldn’t help but clap her hands in delight.

He shrugged. “You might not say that when your toes and nose are frozen.”

Dori hurried over to where a groom stood ready to assist her into the sleigh. She thought the style was a Portland cutter, with a curved front and a door that opened on the side. She glanced at the seat. A flourished letter H, the emblem of the Hudson Estate that was on all the estate stationery and embellished anywhere a monogram could be added, was stitched into the back.

“You know how much Dad likes his Hudson blue,” Kase said, managing to step in beside her, although it looked as though it pained him to do so.

Once they were settled, the groom draped a thick blue-and-black plaid woolen robe over their laps, then handed Kase the reins.

“Enjoy your afternoon, sir,” the young man said, tipping his cap to them before taking a step back.

Kase snapped the lines, and the horse stepped forward, easily pulling the sleigh across the snow.

Dori sat back, hands tucked under the warm blanket, watching the landscape as Kase guided the horse away from the buildings around the house and out across what she was sure was a pasture used for the beef cattle in the summer. She tugged the warm hat she wore down and pulled up her scarf to cover her nose.

Kase gave her a concerned look. “Are you well, or do you wish to return?”

“I’m great!” She grinned at Kase, hoping he could see the pleasure in her eyes, if not on her lips. “Where are we headed?”

“Almost there,” he said, then guided the horse around the base of a hill.

A white-painted church with gothic-style windows along both sides stood near a grove of trees, the tall steeple rising into the afternoon sky.

“What is this place?” Dori asked.

“Mama decided we needed a church on the property for workers who can’t make it into town for Sunday services. The manager of our farm division used to be a circuit-riding preacher so he holds services here every Sunday at half past ten. We try to attend the service at least once a month. Sometimes the church is packed, other times there are a handful, but regardless of the number attending, it’s nice to know the Creator is always with us.”

“Yes, He is.” Dori patted his arm. She barely waited for the sleigh to stop before she hopped out and made her way to the door.

Kase produced a key, turned the lock, and pushed the door open. He stepped back so she could enter.

“Why do you keep the door locked?” Dori asked as she stepped into the church that smelled like furniture polish and Christmas. Greens were already draped along the window ledges, and a garland outlined the oak pulpit where the preacher delivered his sermons. A large colorful stained-glass window with a dove holding an olive leaf spilled splashes of light over the sanctuary.

“Oh, Kase. It’s lovely. So simple, really, but it’s what makes it so charming and wonderful.” Dori turned in a slow circle taking in the oak pews and floor, the walls painted in white, the oak rafters above them. “I love it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We aren’t scheduled to come here this Sunday, but the following one. You’re welcome to join us, or attend services in town, whichever you prefer.”

“I’ll look forward to sitting here a week from Sunday.” She smiled at him as they turned to go. “You never said why you keep the door locked.”

“A drifter decided to move in here not long after we built it. He got drunk and lit the pulpit on fire, then busted out half the windows. It was a mess. So, we keep it locked. There’s a hidden key anyone can find if they know where to look, although Sarah is unaware of that.”

Dori laughed. “Thank you for sharing this place with me. Where are we off to next?”

“What would you like to see?”

Dori waved her hand, encompassing the world sparkling with snowflakes and wonder around them. “Everything. I want to see everything.”

“I’ll do my best before it gets dark.”

Kase took her to see the dairy, then to where hogs were raised and processed. Hudson House hams were known throughout the region. Kase tried to explain the difference between a country and city cure, but she ceased listening as she watched piglets rooting for their dinner from a big mama sow.

“They are so cute, and smelly,” Dori said, wrinkling her nose as they left the pigs and Kase drove her out to the orchards where they grew hazelnuts, apples, peaches, and plums.

“Primarily, we grow apples. We’ve been working with a botanist from Pendleton, Oregon. He’s been developing new varieties.” Kase pointed to trees in the distance. “The twenty acres over there are devoted to experimental trees to see what grows best in this climate and these soil conditions.”

Of course, with winter settling in, the trees were all but bare of leaves and the ground covered in white, but Dori could close her eyes and picture the glorious apple blossoms in the spring. She could almost smell the sweet fragrance of spring in the air.

“Are you ready to go back, or would you mind one more stop?” Kase asked as he clucked to the horse and Bart took off at a trot.

“That would be fine. Truly, Kase, this has been such fun.” Dori had enjoyed the afternoon, and Kase had seemed relaxed and almost happy as he showed her the estate, which had changed and expanded since she’d last been there. Her mind could hardly wrap around the vast acreage the Hudson family owned in Silver Bluff and the number of enterprises that were part of their corporation. According to Sarah, as long as each individual component, like the hogs or the apples, continued to make money, Brant kept investing in them.

When Kase stopped outside an old farmhouse, Dori squeezed his arm. “You brought me to see your grandfather?”

“I did. He asks about you whenever Sarah’s name is mentioned. We won’t stay long, but it will make him happy to set eyes on you.”

Kase got out and gave Dori a hand. She almost felt like she should be the one helping him since his limp had grown more pronounced as the afternoon wore on. She was sure getting in and out of the sleigh was painful for him, not to mention the cold that had to cause his leg to ache. Kase hadn’t complained nor exhibited any sign of distress, other than his limp getting harder for him to attempt to hide.

At the door, Kase offered a perfunctory knock, then pushed it open while Dori stuffed her mittens into her pockets and unwound the scarf around her neck. “Hello? Anyone home?”

“In the kitchen,” a voice drifted down the hallway.

Kase took Dori’s coat and hat and left them on the hall tree near the door, along with his own. Dori followed him to a large kitchen filled with the scents of home and yeasty bread. Serena Drake turned from the stove with a pan of cookies in her hand and set it on a folded cloth pad on the worktable in the center of the kitchen.

“Well, hello, you two. Sarah dropped by earlier. If you came to see Jack, he’s unavailable at the moment, but it shouldn’t take long.”

“What she’s nicely saying is that I was in the bathroom,” Jack Drake said, walking into the kitchen with a big grin on his face. “My goodness. This can’t be little Dori, all grown up. Why, you are just as pretty as a picture.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Drake. You look wonderful,” Dori said, giving him a hug. Although he was still tall and appeared strong, he seemed frail, somehow, in ways she couldn’t describe nor understand.

Kase must have sensed her thoughts because he gave an almost imperceptive shake of his head before he hugged his grandfather.

“Are you keeping Uncle Boston on the straight and narrow, Grandpa?” Kase asked as he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and Dori realized he meant for her to be seated. She slipped onto the chair, then watched as Kase guided his grandfather to the seat next to hers before he settled onto a chair across from them.

Jack chuckled. “That boy doesn’t need any help walking it. He does a right fine job on his own. It’s the grandsons I’ve got to ride herd on now.”

Kase looked to Serena as she set a plate with warm cookies on the table along with three glasses of apple cider pressed from apples grown in the Drake orchards. “When will Jackson be home from college?”

“The Monday before Christmas,” she said. “He didn’t want to miss too much work, otherwise he would have been back tomorrow.”

“How about David and Thomas? Are they home from school yet?” Kase questioned.

Serena shook her head. “Boston had some errands in town this afternoon and decided to take the boys with him after school let out. If I were so inclined to think such thoughts, they might be doing a little Christmas shopping they don’t want me to know about.”

“That is a possibility,” Kase said, helping himself to a cookie.

Dori took a drink of the cold, sweet cider. “This cider is fantastic, Mrs. Drake. Do you make it?”

Serena shook her head. “Nope. The credit goes to Grandpa Jack.”

“I’ve been working on that recipe since Boston was David’s age. I think I finally got it just right.”

“I agree,” Dori said, taking another sip, enjoying the blend of cinnamon and tart apples, sugar, and something she couldn’t quite identify but enjoyed.

They stayed for fifteen minutes, just long enough to drink their glasses of cider and indulge in a molasses cookie.

“We better get home before it’s too dark to see.” Kase rose and carried both his glass and Dori’s to the sink, then kissed his aunt’s cheek. “Thank you for the cookies and cider.”

“You know you’re welcome anytime, Kase. It’s nice to see you out and about.” Serena offered him a tender smile.

Dori rose and smiled at the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Drake, for the refreshments and the opportunity to see Grandpa Jack.”

“You come by anytime, sweet girl. It’s always a treat to see you,” Grandpa Jack said, squeezing her hands but not rising from his chair.

“We’ll see you Sunday, if not sooner,” Kase said, placing his hand to Dori’s back and guiding her out of the kitchen and to the front door.

They slipped on their coats and hats, then silently made their way out to the sleigh. The sun had set and it was growing dark, but Kase didn’t seem concerned. Dori had a feeling he probably knew the way from his grandfather’s house to his with his eyes blindfolded.

It wasn’t until he snapped the lines and they were on their way back that Dori turned to look at him. Furrowed lines creased his brow, and his jaw appeared clenched. She wasn’t sure if it was from the pain in his leg or discovering something wrong with his grandfather.

“Is your grandfather unwell?” Dori asked, unable to keep the question from escaping her thoughts.

“I’m not sure. No one has mentioned him being … different, but something seemed off. Didn’t it?”

Dori could have told him she hadn’t noticed, but she wouldn’t lie. “He didn’t seem like I remember. He almost seemed …”

“Frail,” Kase supplied. “I’m going to ask Mama about it. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it, but maybe I’ve not paid as much attention as I should.”

“Sarah would have mentioned something if she’d known. I’m sure of it,” Dori said. “Let’s ask her. She went to visit your grandfather this morning.”

Kase nodded, and Dori leaned back, forcing herself not to worry as the sleigh glided across the snow. She wished the moon were out, because it would have been one of the most magnificent things she’d ever seen. Even in the fading light of dusk, it was still an incredible view, with the vast acres of untouched snow and the lights of Hudson House glimmering like a beacon in the distance.

When they reached the house, Kase left Dori close to the walk leading to the side door, then took the sleigh to the stable.

Dori hurried up the walk, eager for the warmth and coziness she’d find inside the house. Odd , she thought, as she removed her outerwear and made her way up the back stairs to her room to wash and change for dinner. She’d felt at home with her parents during her childhood, but she’d also always felt at home here at Hudson House. She had no idea why, other than Brant and Holland had been welcoming and kind, but it was more than that.

Part of her felt like she belonged there, which was ridiculous. At best, she was the poor relation of a relative’s friend. The Hudson family didn’t owe her anything, but every time she saw them, they’d gone out of their way to make her feel like she was part of their family. For that, she would always be thankful and grateful.

Dori glanced at the clock in her room and decided if she hurried, she had time for a quick shower. The hot water felt good against her chilled skin. After drying off and squeezing all the water she could from her hair, she finger combed it into waves and left it to air dry.

When Sarah had first talked her into cutting her hair, Dori had hated it. She’d cried every day for a week over the loss of her long lustrous locks. But then, she’d saved so much time styling and fussing with her hair, and her neck no longer felt as though it was carrying a burdensome weight beneath the pinned-up hair.

Now she loved her carefree style. Well, there were occasions when she and Sarah spent a great deal of time fashioning their hair, but for the most part, it was fast and easy to deal with.

By the time she dressed in a silk dress of deep plum with a long lace collar and tiny cloth-covered buttons, and buckled on a pair of matching T-strap shoes, her hair was dry. She fluffed it slightly, then applied a coat of cake mascara to her eyelashes, powdered her nose, and touched her lips with just a hint of lipstick.

The finishing touch was a bit of her favorite perfume, a gift from Sarah for no reason at all one day when they’d been out shopping. The fragrance she dabbed behind her ears and the inside of her wrist made her feel so feminine.

She thought of the way she’d noticed Kase looking at her today and smiled at her reflection. “Why, yes, Mr. Hudson, I do think you are quite dashing. At least, when you aren’t scowling and growling at everyone.”

Dori giggled, thinking how mortified she’d be if anyone heard her. Thankfully, she was alone and had a bedroom with a private bath.

After tidying her room, she hurried downstairs, pleased to find Kase sitting in a chair near the stairs reading the evening newspaper. He glanced up, smiled, and rose to his feet with a bit of effort, leaving the newspaper on the table beside the chair.

“Ready for dinner?”

Dori smiled and took the arm he held out to her. “I am, but I’m not sure how I could possibly be hungry after having cookies and cider an hour or so ago.”

“It’s the ‘so’ that brings on the starvation,” Kase teased as they walked into the breakfast room to find Sarah and Holland already there.

“That color is superb on you, Dori, darling. Doesn’t she look lovely, Kase?” Holland asked as she smiled at them.

Kase’s neck turned red, but he nodded. “She does look beautiful, Mama, as do you and Sarah. Where’s Dad?”

“He received a telephone call he couldn’t postpone. He’ll join us shortly.” Holland motioned for Dori to take a seat next to Sarah, while Kase sat across the table.

Kase pulled out Dori’s chair for her, then limped around the table once she was seated. “Sarah, you went to see Grandpa today, didn’t you?”

“I did, but he didn’t seem like himself.” Sarah glanced at Kase, then their mother.

“Has Grandpa Jack been ill, Mama?”

“Not that I’m aware. Why?” Holland asked, leaning forward.

“He just seemed … off.” Kase looked at Dori.

She nodded in agreement. “You all would know far better than I, but he almost felt frail when I hugged him. I wondered if he’d had a recent ailment.”

“No, but this is concerning. I’ll go to the farm first thing tomorrow. Thank you all for mentioning it. Since nothing can be done this evening, shall we set our minds to enjoy our time together?” Holland sounded cheerful, but even Dori could see the woman’s concern for her aging father.

“May we play games in the sitting room again? I had a grand time last night,” Sarah asked, looking directly at her brother.

Kase shrugged. “That’s fine with me. I wouldn’t mind another opportunity to beat both you and Dad.”

“Hmph! Maybe I’ll beat you both tonight,” Sarah said, then turned to Dori. “Unless you beat us all.”

“Not likely. I’m not familiar with half the games you play. If I win, it will be on sheer luck alone.”

Sarah grinned. “In that case, let’s play Spoof.”

Kase groaned, and Holland grinned. Dori had no idea what they were talking about. Her confusion must have shown on her face.

“It’s a card game. The entire deck is dealt, then you begin passing cards as fast as you can, trying to get a set of four. The first one to get a matching set takes a wooden baton from the center of the table. Then the next person and so on. There’s always one less baton than players. When the batons are all gone, then the person without one is out of the game and the process starts all over with the remaining players.”

“It sounds ruthless and exciting. I’d love to play!” Dori’s enthusiastic reply made them laugh, lightening the previously somber mood, which is how Brant found them when he walked into the room.

Conversation around the table was lively and lighthearted as they ate a formal four-course meal.

After they finished, they retired to the sitting room, where a cheery fire snapped in the fireplace and someone had set out the game on the coffee table that had been cleared of any décor. A tray holding a teapot with cups and saucers waited on a side table.

“Gareth is nearly as intuitive as Remington,” Brant remarked as he accepted a cup of tea from Holland while Sarah set out the game card and pieces.

“That he is,” Holland agreed, passing out cups of tea, then settling in to play the game.

After the first round of passing cards, when Sarah had nearly upended both her tea and Dori’s, it was decided they had to move the cups out of “flailing arm range,” as Kase described it, then they continued with a vigorous battle to see who would win or lose the game.

Kase won, and Dori, despite never having played the game before, took second place. They’d passed the cards so quickly and with such gusto, they’d all been laughing too hard to pay attention half the time. Dori was sure she’d been passed the same card three times before she realized she needed it to have a set of four.

“Oh, that was the cat’s pajamas,” Sarah said, who tended to use more of the modern slang than Dori.

“Cat’s pajamas. Is there a dog’s nightgown? Maybe a horse’s top hat?” Brant asked, smirking at his daughter.

“Dad! Must you always be so ridiculous?” Sarah flung herself back into her chair with exaggerated drama.

“I must. It’s good for you.” Brant winked at Dori, and they started the game over again.

A maid brought dessert to them, a rich spice cake served with cinnamon-laced sweet cream.

“If I gain ten pounds and can’t fit into any of my clothes while I’m here, it’s all Aunt Dulcie’s fault,” Sarah whined.

“Don’t be such a glutton and you won’t have to worry,” Kase teased, stealing a bite of his sister’s cake.

Dori saw Brant and Holland exchange a meaningful look before they returned to watching their children tease each other. Although she hadn’t been around them long, and didn’t have any facts on which to base it, she assumed this was not normal behavior for Kase since he’d returned from the war.

Later, as they all bid each other good night and prepared to retire for the evening, Holland caught Dori in the hallway outside her bedroom and gave her a tight embrace.

“I don’t know what you did, Dori, but keep doing it. This is the most engaged we’ve seen Kase since he came home last year. Thank you for whatever you said or did. We’re so grateful.”

Before Dori could explain she hadn’t done anything, Holland rushed down the hall, clearly brushing at tears, and disappeared inside her bedroom.

Dori walked into her room, replaying her interactions with Kase from throughout the day. She couldn’t think of a single thing she’d done or said that would have made a difference, but perhaps just having someone who was not quite a stranger, but neither someone he considered a friend there, had nudged him to take a tentative first step out of the shell he’d crawled into.

Whatever the reason, Dori fully intended to spend as much time with Kase as she could.

Guiltily, she admitted, at least to herself, the reason for her eagerness to be with him wasn’t entirely unselfish. This afternoon, as she’d ridden in the sleigh, tucked beneath the blanket and pressed close to Kase’s side, she saw the estate through his eyes. It had been an unforgettable experience she’d long remember.

Dori couldn’t have explained it if asked, but something about Kase, about the gentleness she saw in him despite his wounded spirit, drew her to him.

“He is quite good-looking, so there’s that to contend with,” she said to the image in the mirror as she washed her face. However, Dori knew it was more than his handsome face, broad shoulders, and strong physique that stirred her interest in Kase Hudson.

It was a hundred little things about him, like his concern and care for his grandfather. The sweet way he interacted with his aunts and cousins. The humor that caught her by surprise when he offered an unexpected comment or shared his dry wit.

Kase might have returned home from France a changed person, but Dori believed the war had changed them all. Life would never be the same as it was before the war, and before influenza had circled the globe and killed millions of people.

Reality had shifted, and they all had to find a new perspective. Maybe it had just taken Kase a little longer to gain clarity in his focus.

Dori scoffed as she realized she was thinking about solving huge problems in life in photography terms. She crawled into bed, opened the journal Aunt Eloise had given her the night before she and Sarah had left for Oregon, and wrote about her day.

Exhausted when she turned out the light and snuggled into the soft, luxurious coverings on the bed, Dori couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow might bring.

Hopefully, more time to spend with Kase.