The Christmas Secret (2 page)

“Hey, boss, how come you’ve been standin’ there holdin’ that piece of wood for so long?”

David whirled around, surprised to see his helper, Gus Smith, standing behind him. When he’d last seen Gus, he’d been at the back of the shop, cutting a stack of wood.

“I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me like that,” David said, shaking his head. “I nearly dropped this piece of oak for the sideboards of Arnold Higgin’s bakery wagon.”

Gus’s bushy dark eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “Looked to me like you were just standin’ there holdin’ that piece of wood, and you’re nowhere near the body of the bakery wagon you started yesterday.”

“I was taking a few minutes to think, that’s all.”

“Thinkin’ about your bride-to-be, I’ll bet.”

David nodded, his face heating with embarrassment. He hated how easily he blushed.

“Are ya gettin’ cold feet?”

“Of course not. I was just thinking about how Elizabeth and her friend, Helen, are going to the cabin to do some cleaning today. I wish I could be there to help them.”

“Why can’t ya be?”

David glanced across the room, noting the bakery wagon he’d been about to work on. Then there was an emerald-green carriage needing a new set of wheels, a coal-box buggy that was only half built, and the town coach the banker had brought in yesterday for new axles and springs. “I have too much work to do here right now. I promised to have the bakery wagon done by the end of next week, not to mention the other orders we have waiting.” Some days could be a bit overwhelming, but David was grateful for the work and good relationships he’d been building with his customers. He was also humbled by their trust in the fine craftsman he was proving himself to be.

“Maybe you can go over to the cabin when you’re done workin’ today,” Gus suggested.

“That’s what I’m hoping to do.” David leaned the piece of wood against the wall.

Gus moved closer to David. “You still gonna live in the log cabin after you and Elizabeth are married?”

David nodded.

“Wouldn’t ya rather live at the hotel your granddaddy owns? It’d be closer to your shop and has a lot more conveniences than the cabin.”

“It wouldn’t be our own place, and all we’d have is one small room.”

“That dinky old cabin ain’t much bigger than a hotel room.” Gus snorted like an old bull.

“It’s big enough for our needs, and once my business grows, I can either add on to the cabin or have a house built for us here in town.”

Just then, David’s mother rushed into the shop, wearing no shawl around her shoulders, despite the chilly day. “Come quickly, David! Your grandfather fell from a ladder, and he doesn’t respond!” Her hazel-colored eyes were wide with fear, and a lock of reddish-brown hair had come loose from the chignon at the back of her head. David figured she must have run all the way here.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” David called to Gus. He grabbed his mother’s hand, and they rushed out the door.

W
hen David and his mother entered the hotel foyer, he was surprised to see his grandfather standing behind the front desk, where the hotel guests were greeted. He appeared to be unhurt. Had Mother made the whole thing up just to get him to come over here? If so, what was the reason? He was about to ask when Mother swooped across the room and rushed to Grandpa’s side.

“Papa, are you okay?” She clutched his arm so tightly that David wondered if she would bruise the old man’s skin.

After Grandma died of pneumonia three years ago, Mother had been overprotective of Grandpa. Then when David’s father was killed a year later in an accident at the steel mill, she’d almost smothered Grandpa to death.

“I’m fine, Carolyn,” Grandpa said, pushing her hand away. “Just had the wind knocked out of me when I fell. If you hadn’t rushed out of here so quickly, I’d have told you that.”

“But you weren’t responding to anything I said. You were lying on the floor with your eyes closed. That’s why I went to get David.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes—no doubt in an effort to calm herself.

Grandpa’s gaze shifted to David, who had moved to stand beside his mother. “Were you working at the carriage shop?” he questioned.

David nodded.

“I’m sorry she bothered you for nothing.” Grandpa looked at Mother and then back at David. “You know how emotional your mother can be. She probably thought I was dead.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Mother said with a catch in her voice.

“Grandpa, what were you doing on the ladder?” David asked.

“I was trying to straighten that.” Grandpa motioned to the slightly crooked oil painting hanging above an enormous stone fireplace on the other side of the room. One of the local artists had painted the picture of the hotel soon after it had opened for business nearly thirty years ago.

Mother pursed her lips. “You should have waited for our handyman to do it, Papa.”

“Seth’s out running an errand right now.”

“I realize that, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon, and you really should have waited.”

Grandpa’s face turned red. “Carolyn, please stop telling me what to do. I’m perfectly capable of straightening a painting, and I shouldn’t have to call on Seth to do every little thing!”

Mother’s chin trembled and tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t have to raise your voice when you speak to me, Papa.”

“Sorry,” Grandpa mumbled, “but I get tired of you fussing all the time and telling me what to do. I’m not a little boy, and you’re not my mother.”

“No, I’m a daughter who’s concerned about her father’s welfare. Is there a law against that?”

“Of course not, but—”

David cleared his throat real loud. “I’d be happy to straighten the picture for you, and then I need to get back to work.”

“There’s no need for that,” Grandpa was quick to say. “I can climb back on the ladder and finish the job I started.” His gaze swung to Mother then back to David. “And since your mother’s so worried about me, she can hold the ladder to keep it steady.”

Mother planted both hands on her hips and scowled at him. “I will not hold the ladder so you can go back up there! We need to wait until Seth gets here so he can do the job we’re paying him to do.”

Grandpa opened his mouth as if to say more, but then he clamped it shut and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Mother called to his retreating form.

“Out for a walk. I think a bit of fresh air might do me some good.” He glanced over his shoulder at David. “You may as well head back to your shop.”

“What about the picture?”

“I’ve changed my mind. It can wait for Seth.”

As Grandpa hurried out the door, David turned to Mother and said, “I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

Her forehead creased as she frowned. “I doubt it. When your grandfather returns, he’ll probably get involved with something else he shouldn’t be doing.”

David gave her arm an easy pat and went out the door, smiling to himself. Some things never seemed to change.

“This place is so small,” Helen told Elizabeth for the fifth time since they’d begun cleaning the cabin. “I don’t see how you’re going to live in such cramped quarters.”

“We’ll be fine. It’s just going to be the two of us, so we don’t need much room. Besides, we can always add on to the cabin when children come. Even so, I’d hate to change anything that might take away from the quaintness my grandpa created.”

Elizabeth picked up a rag and began dusting several pieces of furniture that had been left in the cabin and had belonged to her grandparents. Truthfully she looked forward to living here, away from the noise and hustle-bustle of the city, which seemed to be growing rapidly these days. Even as small as the cabin was, Elizabeth looked around and was almost giddy with excitement, knowing this was going to be her and David’s first home, where their life together would soon begin.

“You have no indoor necessary room here, and you’ll have to heat water on the stove for washing dishes and bathing.” Helen gestured to the floor. “There aren’t even any carpets on this drab-looking puncheon floor.”

“We’ll use the outhouse, just like my parents and grandparents did when they lived here.” Elizabeth looked down at the short, thick planks confined by wooden pins. “I can always put some braided throw rugs on the floor.”

Helen shrugged and gave an unladylike grunt. “I’ve finished washing the windows now. What would you like me to do next?”

Elizabeth was about to suggest that Helen go through some boxes of books they’d found earlier, when a knock sounded on the cabin door.

“I wonder who that could be,” Helen said.

Elizabeth smiled. “It might be David. When I spoke to him the other day, he said he hoped to come by after he finished working today.”

Helen glanced at the simple wind-up clock on the mantel. “It’s only two o’clock. Do you think he’d be done this soon?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Elizabeth patted the sides of her hair, smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, and hurried across the room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Helen’s father, Reverend Warner, standing on the stoop with furrowed brows.

“Is Helen here?” he asked. “She said she might be helping you clean the cabin today.”

“Yes, she’s here, and we’re still cleaning.” Elizabeth opened the door wider to bid him enter.

Reverend Warner started toward Helen, and she met him halfway. “Is there something wrong, Father?” she asked with a worried expression.

“I don’t believe it’s anything serious, but your mother isn’t feeling well, and I’d like you to come home. I’m sure she won’t be up to fixing supper this evening,” he added in a desperate tone.

Helen looked at Elizabeth. “Would you mind if I leave early?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You’re needed at home more than here right now.”

“All right then. I’ll return your dress to you soon.” Helen wrapped her woolen shawl around her shoulders and followed her father out the door.

As Reverend Warner’s buggy wheels rumbled down the dirt road, Elizabeth returned to the job of cleaning, humming softly to herself, enjoying the quiet cabin.

While she worked, childhood memories flooded her mind. Remembering the warmth Mother had brought to this little cabin, Elizabeth could almost smell the homemade bread baking and loved how the aroma lingered long after the loaves had cooled on the rack. She longed after so many years to bring those moments alive once again in this cozy cabin she would soon call home.

After Elizabeth finished dusting an old desk’s surfaces, she opened each drawer and cleaned the crevices. One of the drawers, however, seemed to be stuck.

Determined to get it opened, she grabbed the brass knob and pulled as hard as she could. It finally gave way. Inside she found some old drawings she assumed had been done by either Mother or her sister, Lovina. Then, to Elizabeth’s surprise, she discovered a battered-looking leather journal crammed in the very back of the drawer. Curious as to whom it had belonged to, she lifted it out and opened the cover. Aunt Lovina’s name was written there.

Elizabeth smiled.
Mother and her sister grew up in this cabin. Aunt Lovina probably sat right here at this desk to write in her journal.
Elizabeth had never been close to her aunt, who as far as she knew had never married. After Aunt Lovina moved to Easton and opened a boardinghouse, Elizabeth hadn’t seen much of her. It had always seemed that her aunt preferred keeping to herself. From the few things Elizabeth remembered her mother saying about Aunt Lovina, she’d concluded that the two sisters had never gotten along very well. The last news anyone in the family had heard about her aunt was that she’d sold the boardinghouse and moved, but no one knew where.

Feeling the need for a break and more than a little curious as to what her aunt’s journal might say, Elizabeth fixed herself a cup of tea and took a seat on the deacon’s bench near the window, placing the journal in her lap.

The first entry was dated June 10, 1856, and included a note about Lovina’s sixteenth birthday that day and how she’d received the journal from her parents. Lovina hadn’t written much on the first page, other than to say she hoped to write her innermost thoughts in this little book.