Chapter Ten

Big Bend United Church

Christmas Eve Services

Eliza slid into the pew next to her grandmother. The urge to ask Gram to switch seats sat on the tip of her tongue like one of Jillian’s favorite lemon drops.

“Don’t fidget,” Gram scolded. “It’s not ladylike.” Pausing long enough to pick up her hymnal, Gram added, “Don’t worry. Cole will be here before services start.”

“I’m not worried about Cole Stewart,” Eliza insisted, her comment drawing Gram’s astute glare.

“Did you two have a lovers’ quarrel?”

Eliza bristled at the tease. “First off, we’re not lovers. Why does everyone assume I’ve been someone’s lover?”

Jillian leaned back, the stiffness in her demeanor commanding Eliza’s attention. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Thadeus Baker. The wretched man told everyone we were an item, and nearly engaged. Then… well… then Cole asked if it were true. How could he even think that of me?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Eliza. I’m sure he wasn’t insinuating anything. Besides, it’s the twentieth century. Men aren’t the only ones sowing their wild oats anymore. Things have changed.”

“I know, Gram. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive to his question, I suppose.”

“It’s not just about changes in behavior. I’d bet it won’t be long before women can vote,” Jillian countered. “Women are marching in protest for the right to have their say.”

“It’s true. I once saw one of their marches in Manhattan. They were very vocal about their demands.”

“I’m sure, whatever was said between you and Cole, was not meant to hurt you. He’s a good Christian man, Eliza. But he’s still a man, and sometimes they speak before they think things through. Especially when they have some stake in the outcome.”

Eliza buried a giggle behind her fingertips. “You’re right, Gram. If he ever gets here, I’ll be sure to let him off the hook.”

“Of course, I’m right, and it’s a good thing because he’s standing at the end of the pew waiting to be invited in.”

Eliza raised her head and turned slightly, meeting Cole’s dark brown gaze. Smiling, she beckoned him forward. “Sit,” she instructed. “Reverend Parker should be here any minute.”

He took his seat and then gathered her hand in his and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” she admitted. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted so badly. I know you meant no disrespect.”

“Thank you. Are we okay now?”

“We’re better than okay, Cole Stewart. We’re good friends.”

“Just friends?” he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

Before she could answer, the ante room door opened, and the choir filtered up onto the dais. Pulling in a soft breath, she whispered, “We’ll see.”

The after-services holiday luncheon in the church hall was loud and boisterous, filled with conversation and tables upon tables of good food.

“I feel guilty,” Gram admitted. “We shouldn’t be enjoying all these delicious dishes when we’ve still got to get through dinner tomorrow.”

“We can leave if you’d like,” Eliza taunted, knowing full well Gram lived for these social outings.

“That would be rude,” Gram argued. “Besides, I intend to take my good dishes home with me after all the food is gone.”

Eliza laughed softly as she turned to scan the crowd. “Fine. We’ll stay.”

“If you’re looking for Cole, I saw him talking to Leo Durgin a few minutes ago. The two of them left by the side door.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back. If not, we’ll see him tomorrow for dinner.”

Amanda arrived at their side moments later, a piece of Eliza’s pecan pie on her plate. “This pie is heavenly, Eliza. I don’t remember you being such a good cook.”

“When I first moved to New York, my landlady insisted all her tenants help in the kitchen as part of their room and board,” Eliza explained. “She was a trained chef in her younger years and could cook anything.”

“She taught you well,” Gram agreed. “That stew you made last week was the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Does that mean I’m in for an extra special meal tomorrow?” Cole asked from just over Eliza’s shoulder.

His close proximity set off a mixture of warning bells and shivers coursing through her entire body. “That depends,” she teased. “On how much you like ham and potatoes.”

He leaned in closer, and said softly, “I’m sure whatever you make will be wonderful.”

Eliza could tell Amanda was struggling to hold her smile in check. “I should get back to my parents,” she said. “No doubt the mayor is demanding to know where he got the money for the church roof.”

“Why would he care?” Eliza asked. “It’s not as if the town coffers are being raided.”

“Knowing Elias Beck, he’s probably stumping for a contribution to his next campaign. I hear he’s hoping to run for a state-wide position,” Amanda explained.

Gram shook her head. “Hmph. The only reason he got elected mayor was because nobody else wanted the job. Even his own town wouldn’t vote for him in a state election.”

“Probably not,” Cole agreed with a chuckle.

Amanda returned to her parents’ side in time for the reverend’s closing prayer. Within a few minutes the luncheon wound down. Members of the congregation bid their farewells, likely eager to get home to their own celebrations.

“Are you ready, Gram?” Eliza asked.

“Yes, I believe there’s nothing more to see or do here.”

“I’ll bring your buggy around,” Cole offered.

“Thank you,” Jillian said. “Eliza and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Not nearly as much as I’m looking forward to a home cooked meal.”

A Very Merry Christmas

Cole climbed the stairs leading to Miss Jillian’s wrap-around porch and lifted the heavy brass door knocker and let it fall into place. While he waited for either Miss Jillian or Eliza to answer, he made one last scan of the surrounding countryside. Another three inches of snow had fallen last night, yet the air was unseasonably warm with no wind.

Perfect for his evening plans.

The door sprung open, and Eliza stood in the entryway. His breath caught at the sight of her. Her long red hair was piled atop her head. A few strands had escaped and hung in curly disarray around her flour-dusted cheeks.

“Don’t just stand there,” she said. “Come on inside.”

Cole stepped across the threshold, handing her two neatly wrapped packages to hold while he shed his coat, hat, and boots. When he finished, he told her, “Those are for you and Miss Jillian.”

“We’ll put them in the parlor. We didn’t do a tree this year, but we did put up a few decorations.”

Cole followed her down the hallway and joined Miss Jillian in the parlor. “Merry Christmas, ladies,” Cole greeted.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Cole,” Jillian said. “Have a seat. Eliza’s almost got dinner ready.”

As soon as she set the parcels on the fireplace mantle, Eliza swung around to face him. “Yes, Cole, Merry Christmas. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Cole told her. “Can I help you in any way?”

“I’m nearly done,” she assured him. “You can keep Gram company. Getting her to stay here and out from under foot is all the help I need.”

“I was only making sure you’d put enough herbs in the dressing,” Gram insisted.

The look Eliza gave her grandmother drew his chuckle. “I’ll do my best to keep her entertained.”

No sooner had Eliza left the room when Jillian asked, “So did you and Eliza settle whatever disagreement you were having?”

“Yes, ma’am, we did.”

“Good. She likes you and, unless I’ve lost my edge, I’m almost positive you like her.”

“I do. Very much,” he confessed.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Liking one another is more than a lot of couples have.”

“We’re a couple now, are we?” he said, attempting a lighthearted tease.

Miss Jillian narrowed her gaze, and told him, “If you’re lucky.”

“Ten more minutes in the oven for the potatoes and we’ll be ready to eat,” Eliza said from the doorway.

“Why don’t we open our gifts,” Gram suggested. “Unless you’d rather wait until afterward.”

“Now would be nice,” Cole agreed. “As long as we have time.”

Eliza handed out the presents, two for each of them, before taking a seat at the opposite end of the settee.

“How lovely,” Gram said when she opened his gift of a knit scarf and clasp brooch.

“You’re welcome, Miss Jillian. I truly appreciate these socks. They’ll be great when the heavier snow arrives.” Tearing into his gift from Eliza, he was surprised to see a handmade leather vest with stitched pockets. Meeting her gaze, he asked, “You made this?”

“Yes. I hope it fits.”

“I’m sure it will. Thank you.”

Eliza unwrapped the gift from her grandmother first… a knit scarf with an intricate pattern of hearts. Next, she reached for the parcel he’d brought with him. Tearing it open, she picked up the piece of paper laying atop the gift and read aloud, “the first half of your gift.” Pushing aside the paper, she found the fur muff and matching hat. “Cole? What does this mean… first half of my gift?”

He shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to wait until after dinner for the rest.”

Across from them, Miss Jillian was grinning from ear to ear.

Cole pushed back his chair and groaned. “I’m as full as I can get without bursting. Your meal was delicious, Eliza.”

“Yes, it was, my dear,” Jillian agreed. “Remind me to send a letter to your former landlady and thank her for teaching you what you never wanted to learn from me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to learn, Gram,” Eliza explained. “I had other things on my mind.”

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t make it in the theater,” Cole told her. “I remember watching you in the school plays and thinking how you were the star of the show.”

“You were watching?” Eliza asked, surprise in her voice.

“Me and the Stout brothers were always joking about how we weren’t required to take part in the plays like the rest of you, but that didn’t mean we weren’t watching.”

“When I first got to New York, I realized the competition was much more intense than I had anticipated,” she admitted. “The first time I auditioned, there were twenty other girls there, some my age, some younger. They ended up choosing a woman ten years older who was already established. It was quite a wake-up call to my fragile ego.”

Like he’d done moments before, Jillian shoved her chair away from the table. “I know we’re all full, gut I could use a fresh cup of tea. I’m thinking I’ll retire to my chair in the parlor. I want to read my bible and maybe take a nap in front of the fire.”

“I’ll get that for you as soon as I clear the table,” Eliza told her. “How about you, Cole? Tea? I’ve also made some boiled custard that should be chilled by now.”

“I haven’t had boiled custard in years,” he confirmed. “However, I’m too stuffed. Maybe later after I’ve given you the second half of your gift.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten.”

“I hadn’t,” Jillian said, a teasing tone to her comment.

“Why don’t I clear the table,” Cole offered. “While you make Miss Jillian’s tea. Once that’s done, we can talk about the rest of your gift.”

“I suppose that would be fine,” she said warily.

Cole escorted Miss Jillian to her favorite chair. After placing the footstool in front of her, he added another log to the fire and then returned to the dining room to gather dishes.

“That’s the last of them,” he announced, as he laid the platter on the sideboard next to the sink. Eliza was nearly done washing the first pile of dishes, so he picked up a dish towel and started drying. Within minutes, they’d put the kitchen to rights.

“I’ll pour Gram’s tea and take it to her,” Eliza told him.

“When you’ve done that, you might want to put on your heaviest coat and new hat and muff so I can give you the rest of your gift.”

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “Patience, Eliza. You’ll see soon enough.”