They drove away from Coldwater. Houses grew farther and farther apart, and snow-covered trees met overhead. Soon the only sounds were the dull clopping of hooves, the jingling o the harness, and snow dropping softly from weighted branches. James and Georgia were alone.
To his bewilderment, she kept sticking out her tongue. “What are you doing?” he asked.
She laughed. “Catching snowflakes. Haven’t you ever done that?”
“Not since I was a boy.”
“Do it now.”
He ducked his head. “I’m thirty-seven years old.”
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Georgia raised her brows in surprise. “You seem much younger, more my age.”
He felt more her age these days. “I’m a grown man. I’d feel silly.”
“Why? No one’s looking. There’s just you and me alone on this country road.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Mr. Shaw. Don’t be an old sour pickle.”
James glowered at her in mock annoyance. “An old sour pickle, am I?”
He did just as the bewitching Georgia bade him. Whenever a wet flake fell on James’s tongue, Georgia would laugh with childlike glee. He found himself laughing, too.
And more than anything he wanted to kiss her. But would she object to being kissed by a man almost twenty years her senior? Would she think him too bold? After the craven way her seducer had treated her, she had every right to be suspicious of any man, no matter what his age. Still, if he didn’t make his intentions clear, someone else might claim Georgia’s heart.
What would Samuel do in my shoes
, he thought?
James knew the answer without having to think twice. He pulled back on the reins and Racer stopped in the middle of the road.
Georgia’s laughter died. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said softly, staring at those beguiling mismatched lips. “I’d just like to kiss you.”
Her eyes clouded, then her gaze fell to her mittened hands. “Oh, Mr. Shaw, you’re placing me in an awkward position.”
“How is that?”
“I’m afraid that if I let you kiss me, you’ll think me a—a loose woman.” She raised her chin proudly. “And I’m not. I may have made a mistake once, but that doesn’t mean I’m loose.”
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Again, the spirit of Samuel came to his rescue. “I would never do what that other man did. I’m not like that.”
She gave him a wistful smile. “Then you may kiss me.”
He may have been a shy man, but he didn’t need a second invitation. He wrapped the reins around the brake, and though his cheeks burned, he slipped one arm around Georgia’s slender waist and cradled her cheek in his other hand.
Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.
Breathless, Georgia pulled away first. “Oh, Mr. Shaw…”
“James.”
“James, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed that way.”
He thought of his teachers, the skillful ladies in the Hartford brothel Reiver took him to once “to make a man of you”, and he said, “Neither have I.”
When he felt Georgia cling to him and shiver, he said, “Cold?”
“No. If you wouldn’t think me too forward, I would like you to kiss me again.”
By the time James and Georgia returned to the house, neither one felt cold.
Mulberry Hill was empty, only the cross-hatched runner streaks showing that any sledders had ever been there at all.
“Mama, may I speak to you for a moment?”
Hannah looked up from her account books to find Benjamin standing in the study doorway, his clothes neat and tidy, and she was struck with how much he had grown. Tall and lanky like his uncle James, with his father’s light brown hair and blue eyes, Benjamin reminded Hannah more and more of her own father, with his finely chiseled good looks.
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When did my baby turn into a young man?
she asked herself, sentimental tears stinging her eyes.
She fought them back and closed her account books.
“Of course you may, Benjamin. Close the door and sit down.” Since she sensed this was to be an adult conversation, Hannah indicated the chair opposite her desk. She waited until he sat down before she said, “Now, what do you wish to speak to me about?”
“Women,” he said.
Hannah coughed to hide her rising panic. “What do you wish to know?” She would let him speak his mind before deciding to turn this discussion over to Reiver.
“How can I make them like me?”
Hannah felt a catch in her throat. It seemed only yesterday that females were nothing but an annoyance to Benjamin, worthy only of having their hair pulled.
She cleared her throat. “You must be honest.”
He frowned. “Honest? In what way?”
“You shouldn’t try to be something you’re not to impress a young woman.”
Hannah searched for an example. “If you knew a certain young lady likes men who play the piano, would you pretend that you could play just to make her like you?”
Comprehension lit Benjamin’s face. “Of course not. Since I can’t play, I would only make a fool of myself.”
“Exactly. You must also realize that not every young woman you like will like you back, no matter what you do.”
His face fell.
“She may choose someone else, and there’s nothing you can do about it. As hurtful and unfair as it may be, that’s life.”
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“Did you and Father like each other when you first met?”
Hannah decided honesty was best. “At first we didn’t know each other well enough to know that.” Now for the loving lie. “But after we were married, we discovered that we liked each other very much.”
He nodded. “Will a woman like me if I give her gifts?”
“Benjamin, you can’t buy a woman’s love. A woman who likes you just because you give her gifts is not the type of woman you want.”
“I understand.”
But there is so much that you don’t
, Hannah thought. She said gently, “Is there a particular young lady you fancy, Benjamin?”
“No, Mama,” he said. “There is no one special. I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Well, if you have any other questions, I would suggest that you ask your father.”
“Yes, Mama.” Then he thanked her and left.
When she was alone, Hannah rose from her desk and paced the study. Could Georgia be the reason for all his questions? Every time Hannah looked up, there was Benjamin talking to Georgia, following Georgia, sitting at Georgia’s feet and playing with Elisabeth. But Georgia had eyes only for James.
Hannah sighed. Benjamin had to learn the hard, cruel realities of love sooner or later. As his mother, Hannah wished he would never have to deal with such heartbreak at all.
The sumptuous Christmas dinner was over.
Reiver patted his full stomach and beamed at Benjamin. “Those were fine birds, son,” he said, referring to the two wild turkeys that Benjamin had shot for their feast.
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“Thank you, sir.” At fourteen, Benjamin had outgrown calling his father Papa.
Davey glared at his brother. “You never would’ve bagged them if I hadn’t pointed them out to you.”
“You’re just jealous,” Benjamin retorted, not wanting his prowess with a rifle diminished in Georgia’s eyes, “because you couldn’t hit the side of a barn.”
“Boys, please!” Hannah said, rising. “Let’s have a little peace from the two of you on Christmas day.”
“Yes, Mama,” they replied.
“My turnips were cold,” Mrs. Hardy grumbled. “And the baked onions had no flavor. Hannah, I told you that the cook should have added a pinch more sugar to them.”
“She’ll remember next time, Mrs. Hardy,” Hannah said patiently. “Now, shall we all retire to the parlor and open our gifts?”
Georgia, who had dined with the family, rose and picked up the baby from her nearby basket, causing Mrs. Hardy to snap, “You shouldn’t hold her all the time. You’ll spoil her.”
“This little angel? Nothing could spoil her.”
Mrs. Hardy muttered under her breath that no one ever listened to her anymore and glowered at the young nursemaid.
They all filed out of the dining room. Hannah noticed how James lingered so that he could walk with Georgia, and she also saw the stricken look Benjamin was trying so manfully to hide.
To her surprise, Reiver joined her and placed his hand beneath her elbow.
When she regarded him as if he had gone mad, he gave her an enigmatic smile and whispered, “It’s Christmas day.”
So, he had declared a truce for the holiday.
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Once gathered in the parlor, with the crackling fire scenting the room with pungent wood smoke, everyone sat down while Reiver passed out the gifts. Each took turns opening one to the accompaniment of “oohs” and “aahs”.
Hannah’s thoughts were not on gifts this evening, but on her family, and on what the future held for them. Benjamin didn’t trouble her, for he was a confident, charming young man whom everyone liked, just like her own father.
Hannah was confident that he would outgrow his hopeless infatuation with Georgia. Davey, on the other hand, worried her. Though now eleven, he showed no signs of outgrowing his bitter envy of his older brother. Benjamin was better looking…Benjamin was their father’s favorite…Benjamin was everyone’s favorite.
Mrs. Hardy had aged much this year, growing frail and stooped, and Hannah feared her friend wouldn’t be with them much longer. And as for herself and Reiver, the less said, the better.
Observing James seated beside Georgia, regarding her with such tenderness, Hannah felt renewed and hopeful. But baby Elisabeth brought her the most joy.
Reiver handed Georgia a small package. “I believe this is from Benjamin.”
Georgia thanked him, her eyes sparkling. “Now, I wonder what this can be?”
Inside was a tortoiseshell comb that Benjamin had bought from old Septimus Shively, the peddler. Georgia thanked him again.
Hannah wondered if she alone noticed her son’s flush of pleasure and the mooncalf look he gave Georgia.
Reiver distributed another round of gifts and returned to Georgia. “I think this is a very special gift from James.”
Hannah held her breath, hoping the girl would appreciate its special significance.
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With flushed cheeks, Georgia tore off the paper and lifted the lid. “Ribbons!”
she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Ribbons to match my hair. Oh, thank you, James. This is the nicest present anyone has ever given me.”
Benjamin flinched as if struck.
How can she like plain old ribbons better than my
comb?
said his plaintive gaze.
“They’re very special,” James said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I had the man who mixes the dyes for our silks make up a special batch of that particular ginger color just for you.”
Reiver added, “And that shade will never be sold to anyone else.”
“My very own color? Just for me?” Her eyes became unnaturally bright. “I—
I don’t know what to say.”
Judging by James’s expression, Georgia’s enthusiasm was reward enough, and when he opened her gift to him, a wool scarf that she had knitted herself, he looked as though she had given him a chest full of gold.
Finally, when all the gifts had been distributed, opened, and exclaimed over, Reiver stood up and removed a long, flat package from his coat pocket and faced Hannah. “Merry Christmas.”
Hannah’s face grew hot as she thanked him, conscious of all eyes on her.
“Now what can this be?” she said, tearing the paper. “It’s much too small to be a shawl or gloves.”
Benjamin said, “You’ll just have to open it and find out.”
“It’s very special,” Davey added.
A special gift? From Reiver?
Hannah opened the box. Inside was the most exquisite necklace she had ever seen, perfectly matched opaque green stone beads supporting a carved dragon.
“It—it’s beautiful.” She held it up for all to see and admire.
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Reiver beamed. “It’s genuine jade, from China, and hundreds of years old. I bought it from a China trader on his return trip.”
“Humph,” Mrs. Hardy grumbled. “Looks heathen to me.”
Everyone ignored her.
“Let’s see how it looks on you,” Reiver said.
Hannah rose, handed him the necklace, and turned so he could fasten it around her neck. The jade felt curiously warm against the skin bared by her low-cut gown. She went to the mirror over the fireplace and stared at her elegant reflection. Was it her imagination, or did the dragon writhe and stare back at her out of glowing eyes?
“The merchant who sold it to me said it once belonged to an empress,”
Reiver said, looking over her shoulder and meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I thought it fitting that you should have it.”
What new ploy is this, Reiver Shaw? You’ve never given me anything this grand in
all our years of marriage.
“It’s lovely,” she said, turning and kissing him on the cheek. “I shall treasure it.”
By the time the clock on the mantel struck midnight, all that remained of Christmas day was a pile of torn wrapping paper scattered beneath the tree and the fire dying in the grate. Stifling yawns, everyone else had taken their treasures to their rooms and gone to bed. Only Hannah and Reiver remained to witness the holiday’s demise.
Hannah turned from the window, where she stood staring at the clear starry night, and looked at Reiver seated in his favorite chair, watching the embers die.
She fingered her necklace. “Why did you give this to me?”
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He looked up, his blue eyes surprised. “I wanted to give you something special, to thank you.”
“Thank me? Forgive me if I seem incredulous, but ever since I gained control of your company, we have hardly been on the best of terms.” She turned her attention back to the night sky. “I didn’t expect you to give me anything for Christmas.”