Read Home for Christmas Online

Authors: Kristin Holt

Tags: #a sweet historical romance novella

Home for Christmas (10 page)

BOOK: Home for Christmas
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Miranda set the chocolate box on the bed. She wiped her tears. “What matters is I learned my lesson the first time around. I paid for that mistake for years.”

“I saw the way Hunter looked at you on Christmas day. He loves you. I’m certain of that much.”

“Maybe. But love is fleeting. Temporary.” Miranda closed her eyes and rubbed at an aching temple. At least her sobbing had subsided.

Miranda drew a shaky breath. “Look how easily Warren walked away from me. Eventually, my affection for him evaporated. It dried up and blew away, as if it never existed in the first place.”

Effie offered the chocolates and pointed at a round one in the corner. “Have a maple creme.” She offered a weak smile.

“Love’s a myth, Effie. An illusion. It doesn’t last. Hunter could wake up tomorrow and realize a Christmas fever addled his brain, and figure out he doesn’t really love me.”

And she’d be left to nurse another broken heart.

Already, she felt her heart rending into two. Oh,
why
did she have to care for him?

“Do you love him?”

Miranda bit into a chocolate without realizing she’d picked it up. She barely tasted the candy and didn’t care what kind it was.

Swallowing, she met Effie’s gaze squarely. “This has all happened too fast. It can’t possibly be real.” She took another bite and tried to enjoy the confection.

“He’s a remarkable man. Kind. Generous.”

Miranda stopped chewing and turned to stare at Effie. “Yes, he’s kind. What if....what if he....” She swallowed again. “Do you think he could be doing this out of kindness?” Her thoughts tumbled one over the other.

Effie put an arm about Miranda’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t have asked you to marry him if he didn’t love you. Few men can be persuaded to take a wife until they find the right woman.”

“But what if I’m
not
the right one? Look at Warren. He
thought
I was right for him, until he met Viv.” Miranda’s stomach clenched. She folded her arms over her belly. “Hunter says he loves me, but what if he’s only feeling sorry for me? Poor Miranda, Warren’s cast-off bride. For all I know, I’m no different than the Nances or the Johnsons. He saw my loneliness and tried to fix it. What will I do when the right girl comes into his life and doesn’t want me anymore?”

Effie chuckled softly. “Now I know you love him. You wouldn’t care about the possibility of another girl, otherwise.”

“What am I going to do?” Miranda nibbled another chocolate, this one filled with nuts and rich, dark fudge. “I’m terrified he’ll change his mind. If not before the ceremony, then after. That would kill me.”

“You turned him away.”

“Of course I turned down his proposal. It’s the only rational choice. Everything happened too fast. He doesn’t know what he wants. I don’t know what I want.”

“Do you want him for your husband?”

She couldn’t bear the thought of life without Hunter. Her stomach cramped again. She doubled over her arms, hoping to ease the pain but found no relief.

When had this happened? A week ago, she’d wanted to pretend Hunter didn’t exist. Today, her heart broke at the thought of never seeing him again.

Effie patted Miranda’s back in a comforting manner. “He’s not Warren.”

“I know.” In so many ways, she knew that simple truth.

She should have been thrilled to receive Hunter’s proposal and looked forward to their wedding with anticipation and joy. Something was desperately amiss in her, after all.

“I’ve got to get away, where I can breathe, where I can think.”

Effie took Miranda’s hand, squeezed with reassurance. “I suspect he won’t let you leave him so easily.”

“If we’re meant to be together, we’ll figure that out, a little at a time.” Not suddenly. Not like this.

Only time would tell. Distance and space would bring everything back into focus. In Mrs. Jamison’s employ, she’d have that distance and space and time to think.

No matter how painful, it seemed the only sensible decision. “I’m going back to Denver.”

 

<><><><>

 

Of all the people Miranda expected to avoid her front porch that afternoon, Warren Kendall was second on her list.

Right behind his brother.

She choked the handle of her satchel. For a moment, she forgot to breathe and felt the blood drain from her face. She struggled for something polite to say, something that would smooth over three-plus years of silence, but found herself woefully unprepared.

Warren stood on the bottom step, as if he wasn’t so sure he wanted to come any closer. He held Miranda’s gaze for a long moment. Regret clouded his eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

Darn it all, he looked so very much like Hunter. Sounded so very like him, too. Her heart squeezed with grief and regret.

Behind her, the front door banged open and two of her younger brothers barreled past and down the steps. Daddy drove the sleigh into the yard.

Warren took in the sleigh, her young brother Dallas staring at him, then the satchel in her hand. “Reverend Gilbert said you’d be home through the end of the week. You’re leaving early?”

Miranda clutched the railing and made her way down the icy steps. “I need to get back to the city.”

“Can we talk?” He swallowed visibly. “Please?”

“I’ll be all right,” she said, detesting the warble in her voice. She took a moment to steady it. “Hunter will be all right.”

It seemed Hunter had told his brother about her refusal.

Clearly, Warren felt compelled to set matters right.

Miranda glanced at her dad and brothers in the sleigh. She wasn’t ready to let them overhear Warren challenge her decision to turn down Hunter’s proposal. “Give me a moment.” She set her bag in the sleigh and led the way to the side of the house where they’d have a measure of privacy.

Warren followed. “I know I’m years too late, but I’ve come to ask your forgiveness. I handled the whole situation badly, and I feel terrible about it. It’s too little, too late. Please, forgive me.”

She sensed his sincerity and knew he’d suffered in his own way. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters now, more than ever. My brother loves you, Miranda. We can’t go on pretending everything’s fine.”

She found it more comfortable to stare across the clearing at the evergreens encircling the house than to meet Warren’s eye. She didn’t want to think of him judging her for the choice she had to make.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. “I hope you know that.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Forgiveness warmed her through, coming unbidden and so completely unexpected, it caught her off guard.

A moment passed as she tried to regain her balance.

He shifted his weight to the other foot. “Can you look past what happened between us? I don’t want it to cause trouble between you and Hunter.”

Tears threatened. “Warren, I do forgive you, I already have. I hope we can be friends again.”

Not that our paths will ever cross, now that my relationship with Hunter is coming to an end.

“We may see one another from time to time,”
when I’m home for a visit--I fear I’ll see your brother, too,
“and I’d like us to be at ease.”

The thought of seeing Hunter after all that had passed between them seemed infinitely worse than a chance meeting with Warren.

How would she survive passing Hunter on the street the next time she came home? Dizzy, she pushed aside the thought.

“Thank you.” He clasped her shoulder in a brotherly sign of affection. “I’m grateful you forgive so easily, especially since I don’t deserve your generosity. Hunter’s a very lucky man.”

Warren glanced toward the front yard where her father and brothers waited to take her to town. “Why are you leaving early?”

How could she answer? The anxiety and fear and disbelief churned inside her, threatening to erupt. Sharing with Effie was one thing, but with Warren, something else altogether.

She shook her head, mute.

“He
loves
you.”

The intensity of his gaze, eyes so blue, so much like Hunter’s, demanded an answer.

A weak nod was all she could give in response.

“I admire my brother for many things, Miranda. Most of all, I admire his constancy. He doesn’t change his mind, doesn’t deviate from course, would never consider breaking his word to you. He’s not like me.”

Miranda nodded, not because she agreed with Warren’s statement, but because she didn’t have the strength to argue. “I need to go. I’ll miss my train.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

<><>

 

The patience of Job.
What a crock of turkey feathers.

Hunter wanted nothing more than to find Miranda and soothe her fears. Instead, he forced himself to give her some time alone.

In the past three hours, he’d started after her a dozen times, but had already decided it was best to let her be.

He’d burned through the shock of her refusal by working alone in the barn. By the time he’d finished mucking out the stalls and spreading fresh straw, he was exhausted, sweating, and hungry.

It broke his heart to remember the distrust in her eyes the moment before she’d fled. He figured she’d think everything through. She’d remember their talks, the things they’d shared, the tender feelings he’d confessed.

Maybe, with any luck, she’d be ready to talk tomorrow. He mopped the sweat from his brow. Ignored the hunger gnawing at his belly. He wasn’t ready to go inside and face the inevitable questions from his parents. They’d want to know why he was disturbed. He wasn’t ready to tell.

A slice of light, riding on a gust of frigid wind, swept into the barn as someone opened the heavy wooden door. Hunter turned his back, unwilling to face either of his parents. He busied himself with a broom.

The door closed, dousing the barn in shadows.

“She’s leaving for Denver.”

Hunter stiffened at Warren’s statement. There was no question he spoke of Miranda.
Denver.
She meant to leave him.

Oh, God.

How would he live without her?

Slowly, he turned to face his brother.

“She’s at the station, waiting for the four-o’clock. If you hurry, you might catch her.”

Hunter smelled of horse, straw, and sweat and knew his temperament was just as sour. “Why? She made herself quite clear.”

Bile crept up his throat. They’d been so darn close to having it all. “I asked her to marry me,” Hunter admitted, grief slicing through his heart. Emotion strangled his voice. “And she said no.”

“You’re going to let her go that easily?”

“She said
no.

“Are you blind? All she wants is for you to show her she means everything to you. That without her, you have nothing.”

Warren apparently didn’t get the response he wanted, because he stalked closer, raised his voice in command.


Go after her.
Tell her you love her and you won’t let her walk away from you. Drag her to the church today, if you must, but let her see she’s the
only one
for you.”

Hunter snorted. “One kick in the teeth is enough.”

Warren grabbed a fistful of Hunter’s shirt and backed him against the wall. “Miranda could say the same thing.”

“Don’t turn this around on me, Warren. I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll tell you what you’re doing. You’re ruining your best chance. You called me a coward for turning away from Miranda. What I did was find the courage to leap into the fire. I knew I had
one chance. One.
To claim the
only
woman who I couldn’t live without. And,
I. Did. It.

Hunter knocked Warren’s fist from his shirtfront. His breathing rasped, echoing in the quiet barn. He stared Warren in the eye, knowing his conscience left him no choice. “I’ve got less than an hour. Are you with me?”

Warren clasped Hunter in a hug. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

 

<><><><>

 

It was a lonesome goodbye. Miranda waited in the train depot with only her mother for company.

She’d hoped her dad and brothers would want to say goodbye on the platform, but Luke had shown up saying the cows had gotten out and he needed help rounding them up. All of her sisters had places they’d needed to be, chores to tend to, or napping babies to tend.

Effie had said long goodbyes make her cry. She’d begged off coming to the train. Already, Miranda missed her new friend.

But not nearly as much as she missed Hunter. Would he ever understand?

A pang of regret cut deeper than the northerly wind rattling the ice-crusted window panes.

She hoped he’d call on her, like he’d done those few times at Sophie Vanderfeldt’s. Had she even mentioned her new employer’s name?

This was best, she reminded herself. Safe. Prudent. Rational. So why did the thought of returning to Denver seem so terrible?

“Miranda!” Effie pulled open the station door. Her cheeks glowed pink from the bite of the wind.

Miranda hugged Effie close. “I thought you didn’t like long goodbyes.”

“I didn’t come to say goodbye.” Her eyes twinkled with delight. “Hunter sent me to get you.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Her stomach fell to the vicinity of her toes.

Effie pressed Miranda’s hand between her own. “He’s waiting for you. At the church.”

Heaven have mercy.
Unable to speak, Miranda shook her head.

“Your father is waiting there with your brothers and sisters. Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, too.” She grinned. “Even Warren and Viv. We’re all waiting on you. We can’t begin without the bride.”

“He can’t be serious.” Wonder unfurled within her. “Are you sure he--?” He still wanted her? Was that possible?

Mother gathered Miranda close. “When he asked our permission to marry you, he told us there wouldn’t be much of an engagement. He said this is what you wanted.”

BOOK: Home for Christmas
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