Courting Holly (2 page)

Love is fragile. Hard work and constant attention are needed to keep the flames of love alive. You will know and understand this after you marry. Emmett was the love of a young girl’s heart. We were young and foolish enough to believe we could do anything, go anywhere and survive anything. Unfortunately, we didn’t. My love for John took longer to grow, but it is still as deep as with Emmett. The big difference was that I knew love and life could end at any given moment.

When I received word of Emmett’s death, a part of me died that day. I think that is what Emmett saw when he came back after the war. I was not the same woman. He also saw my love for John, and John’s love for you and me. John is a good man and has guarded our secret.

Forgive me, Holly. I did what I felt was best. I only hope it was the right decision.

Love forever,

Momma

Holly wiped the tears away. Her hands shook. A knock on the door gave her pause. She stood. The door opened. “Holly, forgive me for intruding but...” He cleared his throat. “Your momma has gone home to Jesus.”

Her legs turned to mush and she fell to the floor. The letter crumpled in her hand. John Graham swooped her into his arms and sat with her on his lap. They wept together; Holly yielding to great sobs of anguish. Holly loved this man with all her heart. How could he not be her father?

Chapter 2

“B
ryce, would you come in here for a moment?”

“Yes, sir.” Bryce tapped his soiled boots on the floor mat. Caring for the animals wasn’t his normal routine in the morning, but with the foreman ill, someone needed to tend to them.

He entered the den, where his father waited near one of two wing-backed, black-leather chairs, separated by a small table. At the end of the room sat his father’s five-foot-long mahogany desk. Bryce’s own smaller desk, a mahogany secretary, along with a couple of lamps and bookcases along the walls, took up the rest of the room. Sunlight filtered softly through the tall, lace-covered windows, giving a pleasant warmth to the papered walls. “What can I do for you?” Bryce asked.

“Have a seat, please.” His father glanced at his son’s attire. Bryce had gone to college to prepare for law, but discovered he preferred business and running the plantation. His father’s vision of Bryce as a genteel gentleman lawyer would never come true, and he knew that was a disappointment.

“Sorry for the soiled clothes. The foreman is down with the fever.”

His father straightened to his full six feet two inches. “As you know, Allison Graham passed away yesterday.”

Bryce nodded. The sting of the news still soured his stomach. The memory of the pain in Holly’s eyes made him want to be a constant presence. Apart from a few stolen moments of offering a smile, there had been no opportunity to console.

“There is a history that I am not at liberty to tell you. Client-attorney confidential information.”

Bryce nodded for the second time.

“All I can say at this point is that you might need to escort Holly to Tennessee. I would like you to arrange your schedule to be overseen by another for three months. Can you do this for Holly?”

Bryce opened his mouth to speak then closed it shut. What could he say? He understood the confidentiality issue. But why would Holly be involved? And why Tennessee?

He focused on his soiled boots. His mind wandered in a hundred directions. He’d do anything for Holly. He glanced up at his father. “Yes, sir. Whatever is needed.” He paused and stood. “Well, forgive me, Father, but if I need to be ready to relinquish my obligations, I must get started. The funeral is in three hours and we will be with the Grahams the rest of the day.”

Lloyd squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. “Yes, we shall be very busy. Inform your brothers to be ready to assist the family and escort the children from the graveside.”

“Yes, sir. I will take my place beside Holly.”

“Thank you. Your mother and I will be helping John with his guests.”

“I am angry with Whit Butterfield. How could he be so careless with his carriage? Now a woman is dead.”

Lloyd stood and placed a hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “It is not our place to judge. I am fighting my own anger, but the Lord reminds me I am not free from sin, either.”

“Nor am I,” Bryce admitted.

“I am certain Mr. Butterfield is going through his own kind of torment, knowing that his reckless behavior cost a woman her life.”

Bryce groaned.

“The day is rapidly getting away from us.” Lloyd engaged Bryce in a bear hug and slapped him on the back. “Thank you, son.”

“You are welcome, sir,” Bryce choked out.

* * *

Holly focused on her black-gloved, interlocked fingers. The words her dying mother had shared moments before she’d passed distracted her from the minister’s graveside homily more than the sting of the loss.

Long sweeping gowns of Spanish moss draped from the oak trees that lined the main dirt road of the Evergreen Cemetery. Monuments and gravestones dotted the right and left boundaries of the road. Rows of family plots stretched away beneath the arched canopy of ancient trees, each laid out with whatever type of fencing the family wished. The area for her mother’s final resting place lay next to her mother’s grandparents.

Holly stared at the granite headstone beside the hole where her mother’s coffin rested. Its simple engraving pierced her heart. It read, “Emmett Landers Beloved Husband and Father.”
Slow, shallow breaths. One. Ease it out slowly. Two.
Holly closed her eyes. A tear fell and slid down her cheek.

The strong hands of Bryce Jarvis embraced the top of her shoulders. Warmth radiated from the palms of his hands down to the bottom of her feet. She’d been longing for his comfort since hearing the truth from her mother. She had almost told him, but what could she have said at that point? Bryce was her best friend and confidant. They had practically grown up together. At one point in her life she had even fancied him and wanted to be his wife. But after he’d returned from college she’d hardly seen him. They would take an occasional walk in the garden after the families shared a meal together. Still, she cherished their ability to talk with one another with ease, something she never experienced with another.

And he was undeniably handsome. Holly smiled, remembering the attractive appearance he made in his top hat and tails as he’d walked toward her before the service began. Then she shook her mind from such foolish thoughts. She was here to bury her mother. She attempted to concentrate on the minister’s words.

“Amen,” he proclaimed.

“Amen,” the graveside crowd replied.

“Allison Graham’s family would like to invite all of you back to their home to share some food and fellowship.” The new preacher at First Church smiled and tipped the brim of his hat toward Holly and the family.

Bryce leaned in closer. “My family will take care of hosting the meal.”

“Thank you.” He had no idea how much his love and support meant to her. “Bryce, when you have a minute, could we talk?”

“Whenever you need me, I am here, Holly.”

“Thank you.”

He held out his elbow. She found herself fitting comfortably in the bend of his strength. He escorted her to the coffin and placed a rose on top. Holly followed suit. “Goodbye, dear one.” Bryce’s voice strained.

“Goodbye, Momma.” She glanced at the nearby stone. “I forgive you,” she whispered, but not quiet enough. Bryce heard. He cupped his hand over hers and led her back to the carriage. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer. Soon she would tell her best friend the truth.

She glanced back at Emmett’s tombstone...
Why?

Tiffany and her brothers followed, each escorted by a member of the Jarvis household. Bryce assisted each of them up into the carriage. Her father—should she now think of him as her stepfather?—took his seat inside the landau carriage rather than in the front driver’s seat. The roof was down. The Jarvises’ carriage sat behind theirs, ready to return to their home.

Holly watched in silence as Bryce stepped up and sat in front. Calvin, her youngest brother, scrambled up and over the seat and snuggled next to Bryce. Bryce reached around and pulled Calvin closer. Holly’s heart ached for her brothers and sister. Their lives would never be the same.

Tiffany snuggled into Holly. Holly embraced her and kissed the top of her head. “With God’s grace we can do this, Tiff.”

Tiffany nodded and cried. Her father reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “We will all miss her, child. It is appropriate to shed tears.”

“Oh, Papa.” Tiffany leaped across the carriage floor to her father’s arms.

“I miss her, too, darling.” He cradled his fifteen-year-old daughter as if she were only five.

Holly found herself envious. If she weren’t twenty she’d be in his lap, too, as she had been in his lap in the privacy of the den the day before. Her other brothers Daniel and Riley snuggled in closer. Holly took a lace handkerchief from her purse and wiped her own eyes. At that moment the band fell into place and marched behind the carriages, playing some of mother’s favorite hymns. Momma’s words about God giving us strength through music and joy floated back to Holly. A small, gentle smile lifted her damp cheeks. Perhaps she could get through this horrible loss.

Emmett Landers’ tombstone came back into view, her real father’s tombstone—a testimony to a man who wasn’t really dead. A man her mother loved.

Holly’s heart ached for the loss her mother felt at the death of her first husband. She couldn’t imagine the shock of discovering he was still alive after being told he was dead. But why had Allison Graham left the tombstone in the family plot, rather than have it removed once she’d learned the truth?

* * *

Bryce reined in his emotions as he drove the carriage back to the Graham estate. They went from one extreme to another: fury at seeing Whit Butterfield at the graveside, protectiveness toward Holly and her family. Calvin clutching at his side didn’t help...and yet it did. He was doing something. He could embrace the boy and share his love and strength with him.

The grand two-story house came into view. Bryce led the horses through the gate and pulled up to the front of the house. He dismounted and helped Calvin climb down. He assisted Holly who was dressed in black and white with an Irish-laced shawl she more than likely had made. Then he reached for Tiffany and each of her brothers. John Graham was the last to stand. “Thank you, Bryce.”

“It is my honor, sir. I shall tend to the carriages and the horses.”

“Again, I thank you, son.”

Bryce nodded. He hopped back up on the carriage and pulled away from the walkway as his father’s carriage pulled up and stopped. Most folks, he knew, wouldn’t stay for long. They’d come in, nibble on some food, make their condolences and bid them goodbye. There would be a few who would linger until dark but, apart from his family and Allison Graham’s parents, Bryce honestly didn’t know who would stick around.

A few hours later Bryce had his answer. Widow Sullivan remained. He didn’t know if she were shopping for a new husband or simply wanted to be there to encourage John Graham during his time of loss. If anyone understood the death of a spouse, it would be a widow or a widower.

As the guests departed, Holly’s smile slipped. Bryce made his way over. “May I help you?”

“Yes, take me away from all of this.”

“How about Venice?” he asked and winked. It was an old joke, a memory from their childhood. Venice was as far away from Savannah as they could imagine. Bryce hadn’t let go of that treasured childhood dream—at least, not yet.

Holly giggled. “Venice sounds perfect.”

He gave her his elbow. She hesitated for a moment then slipped her hand on top of his forearm. “Come away with me.”

She stared into his eyes. For a brief moment he thought he saw desire in her incredible orbs. But they flickered back to the impenetrable emerald green he’d always known. “I am at your disposal.”

He guided her out the back and onto the gazebo overlooking the river. “Tide is low.”

“Apparently. Come sit with me for a moment.”

Using all his skills as the gentleman host, he assisted her to the bench and stepped a pace away and sat. “How can I help, Holly?”

“I need a friend. No, I need more than that. I need a confidant. Someone I can share my deepest secrets with and who will not share them with another.”

“I can do that. I may not have finished law school but I understand a commitment to confidence.”

Holly smiled.

Bryce’s heart beat wildly. Did this have to do with the trip she might need to take to Tennessee?

“I know you do. Forgive me but I...” She let her words drain off.

He closed the gap between them and placed his arm around her shoulders. “You can trust me, Holly.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I am having a difficult time.”

Naturally.
He held back his meaningless quip.

“Momma, on the day she died, revealed something to me. I...”

Bryce waited and prayed for the Lord’s direction and peace to cover Holly.

“Momma told me that John Graham is not my father.”

Bryce stopped breathing.

“Good reserve, Bryce. I know you are stunned. So am I.” She paused and held his gaze. Bryce kept his control and waited. “I thought she was delirious from the medicine and pain. But she wasn’t. She left me three letters—I’ve only read one, her explanation to me.” She quickly summarized what the letter had said.

Bryce’s eyes widened. “Where is your father? Who is he?”

“His name is Emmett Landers and he lives in Tennessee. At least he did when he and my momma were married.”

So, Father does know. He must be Emmett’s attorney!
“What do you want to do about all of this?”

“For one, I do not wish to tarnish my mother and father’s reputation. I can see the gossipers humming with all of this.”

Bryce released Holly. He stood and paced back and forth in the gazebo. Should he tell Holly his father is her real father’s lawyer? No, that would be breaking Father’s confidence. “Agreed. Does anyone else in your family know about this?”

“No. Just Father and I. Oh, and my grandparents. But they are not aware that I know, unless Father told them. I certainly didn’t.”

“How can I help?”

“Would you be with me when I read the letters from my father?”

“I would be honored. When would you like to read them?” Bryce had so many questions he wanted to ask his father, but that would be breaking Holly’s confidence.

“Tomorrow. Will you still be assisting Father with the chores?”

“Yes but...” He paused. “Never mind. Tomorrow is perfect. What time?”

“Let’s go for a carriage ride, pack a lunch, make a day out of it.”

I’d love to.
“What about your family? Will they be needing you close by?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Honestly, I am having a hard time focusing on anyone apart from myself. Your snuggling Calvin on the drive home caused me to reach over and embrace Tiffany. Normally I would have done that, but I am not myself.”

“Holly, you have had quite a shock. It is normal. I am happy to read the letters with you, and I would love to simply spend a day with you. However, I would not be a good friend if I did not ask... Are you certain you want to confront these letters tomorrow? Would a day or two to relax and get back into the daily necessities be in order first?”

“That’s just it, Bryce. I don’t feel my life will ever be orderly again. I’m not who I thought I was. There’s a stranger’s blood running through my veins. I don’t know what kind of character he has or what he looks like. Do I have any of his characteristics? Would my wanting to know my father hurt John? Do I even want to know a man who simply left me? I mean, couldn’t he have found a way to be a part of my life? Did he even want me?”