A Wallflower Christmas (18 page)

“Always. Because Hannah, my love, the only gift I'll ever want”—he paused to kiss her smiling lips—“is you.”

On Christmas morning Matthew Swift walked over to the bachelor's house, his shoes and the hem of his coat dusted with new snow. He knocked at the door and waited patiently until Rafe came to answer it. And with a wry smile, Swift told his brother-in-law, “All I can say is, everyone's talking. So you'd better marry her quickly.”

There was, of course, no argument on Rafe's part.

Swift also told him that having been moved by the spirit of the holiday (and the combined pressuring of the entire family), Thomas Bowman had reconsidered his decision to disinherit Rafe, and wished to make peace. Later, over mugs of smoking bishop, a hot drink made with fruit, red wine, and port, the men came to an accord of sorts.

But Rafe did not consent to enter into the joint proprietorship with his father, realizing that the arrangement would undoubtedly be a source of future conflict
between them. Instead, he entered into a highly lucrative partnership with Simon Hunt and Westcliff, and turned his abilities to the manufacturing of locomotive engines. This removed much of the burden from Hunt's shoulders, which made Annabelle happy, and allowed Rafe and Hannah to stay in England, to the pleasure of all.

In future years, Thomas Bowman would forget that Hannah was not the daughter-in-law he had originally wanted for Rafe, and a solid affection developed between them.

Natalie married Lord Travers and they were very happy together. She confided to Hannah that when she had gone to Travers for consolation that Christmas Eve, he had finally kissed her, and it had been a kiss worth waiting for.

Daisy eventually finished her novel, which was published with great popular success, if not critical acclaim.

Evie gave birth later that year to a high-spirited girl with flame-colored curls, leading St. Vincent to the conclusion that it was his destiny to be loved by many red-haired women. He was very pleased.

Hannah and Rafe were married by the end of January, but they always considered their true anniversary to be Christmas, and celebrated accordingly. And every Christmas Eve, Rafe wrote a love letter and left it on her pillow.

Samuel Clark hired a new secretarial assistant, a competent and pleasant young woman. Upon discovering her auspiciously shaped cranium, he married her without delay.

In 1848, a woodcut of the Queen and Prince Albert standing beside their Christmas tree was published in
The Illustrated London News,
popularizing the custom until soon every parlor was graced with a decorated tree. After viewing the illustration, Lillian rather smugly observed that her tree was much taller.

Thomas Bowman's toupee, alas, was never found. He was somewhat mollified by the gift of a very fine hat from Westcliff on Christmas Day.

Dear Friends,

I hope you've enjoyed visiting the fictional world of the Wallflowers! Writing this story was a delightful experience for many reasons. I loved being able to include research about Victorian Christmas facts and traditions, and most of all, I had fun spending time with characters I had “lived with” for a number of years. When I create characters, I spend a lot of time developing their backgrounds, and pondering how their experiences form their hopes, dreams, and perceptions about the world. But I truly start learning about a character when I put him into situations with other people. I've come to realize that in fiction and in real life, every encounter we have with another person, no matter how fleeting, has the potential to change us…the way we think, the decisions we'll make in the future.

What I love most about writing a series is seeing the progression of characters from book to book, and as I revisit them, I have the feeling of spending time with old friends. The Wallflower series, the Hathaways, and the Travises have all been rewarding and fulfilling experiences for me as an author. It is my earnest hope that my readers have found similar enjoyment in visiting these fictional worlds with me.

Now I've started working on a new series, with a set of characters I'm still becoming acquainted with. The Friday Harbor series takes place in the San Juan Islands, which are part of Washington State—I can't imagine a more beautiful or vibrant setting for a novel. The series centers on the Nolan brothers, who have to learn that there is more to being a family than mere blood ties. As I follow them through these upcoming novels, exploring themes of love, family, loyalty, and commitment, I hope you'll come along for the ride.

We'll meet some of these new characters in the soon-to-be-released
Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor
, when the oldest Nolan brother, Mark, becomes the guardian of his orphaned niece Holly. In her letter to Santa, Holly asks for just one thing…a new mom for Christmas. As Mark struggles to create a family for Holly, his life goes in directions he never anticipated, and he discovers that sometimes the heart has a will of its own…

Thank you as always for your kindness and encouragement—my readers always inspire me to search my heart and try to do my very best!

Wishing you happiness always,

 

Lisa

Take a sneak peek at Lisa Kleypas's latest novel

 

CHRISTMAS EVE AT FRIDAY HARBOR

 

Coming in hardcover in October 2010 from St. Martin's Press

Three weeks before Christmas, Mark found the letter.

It had been left in a pile on the table in Halle's playroom, tucked into an envelope made with Scotch tape, construction paper, and glittery star stickers.

“Damn it,” Mark whispered. He read the letter again, an eight-year-old girl's Christmas wish for something that every child deserved. A mother.

He wasn't ready for the bolt of pain that shot through his chest. That was the strange thing about grieving—even when you thought you'd gotten over the worst of it, it could still hit you just as hard as it did the first moment you heard the words
she's gone
.

He'd gotten that call six months ago.

“I'm so sorry…I'm a friend of Virginia and Phil's, I'm watching over Halle and the police just called and…” The babysitter had started crying, forcing out words between sobs, and it took a minute or two for Mark to understand that his sister and her husband had been in a car wreck in Seattle. Their sedan had hydroplaned and crossed into oncoming traffic, where they'd been broadsided. They had both died instantly.

There had been a feeling of unreality about the situation, a layer of numbness covering a reservoir of pain that Mark had no idea how to deal with. Nolans didn't do well with loss, any more than they knew what to do with happiness. In a family that had not exactly been equipped for emotional closeness, Virginia had been the only one who had managed to draw them all together on occasion. Mark had been fine with seeing Virginia and his younger brother Sam during the obligatory once-a-year get-together at Christmas. Other than that, he sent e-mails or texted once in a blue moon. He had seen no point in sharing their lives with each other.

Virginia's death had changed everything.

His sister had neglected to mention to Mark that she and Phil had named him as Halle's guardian if anything
ever happened to them. As a man who hated to be tied down, who enjoyed his fast-paced and disposable lifestyle, Mark was the last man on the planet who should have been named as anyone's guardian. It was Halle's rotten luck, however, that he was her best option, the other potential guardian being Sam.

“You're not actually going to keep her, are you?” Sam had asked at the reception after the funeral.

Mark had scowled at him. “Of course I'm going to keep her. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“Give her to someone else.”

“Like who? Phil's parents are too old to look after a kid.”

“Maybe one of the cousins could take her. There's Carla and her husband…what's his name…”

“Divorced.”

“Damn.” Sam's mouth was grim. “No offense, bro, but you're not exactly the dad type. You could screw up what's left of her childhood.”

“Since both her parents are dead, I'd say her chances of having a great childhood are pretty well screwed by now.”

They talked in undertones that cut beneath the subdued conversation of the mourners. Guests filled their plates at the buffet table, serving spoons clinking against chafing dishes, drinks being poured. From time to time someone laughed quietly at some shared memory. Tissues were pressed gently against eyes and noses. The rituals of mourning were being observed, and while it seemed to bring comfort to the people around him, it did nothing for Mark.

He had slid covert glances at Halle, who was sitting
at a table on the other side of the room with a book. Her soft brown hair, usually neatly braided, was drawn back in an off-center ponytail. Already the loss of a mother was showing. Mark had gone through her closet that morning and had found nothing that looked appropriate for a funeral. Half her wardrobe consisted of sparkly ballgowns, and the other half was bright T-shirts and embroidered jeans.

Halle had been surrounded by women who fussed over her and brought her little plates of food as she sat at a table with a book. Countless slips of paper with phone numbers had been pressed into Mark's hand, with offers of “help with Halle.” One had insisted on entering her number into his iPhone. “You're not alone, Mark,” she had told him meaningfully.

More than a few female gazes were drawn to the pair of Nolan brothers standing in the corner. Neither of the brothers was precisely handsome, but both had looks that carried. They were big-framed and dark-haired, rough-natured but soft-spoken in the way of native-born islanders. Mark was the only one who'd ever moved away from San Juan Island, staying in Seattle after he'd graduated from U-Dub.

The city was only a ferry ride or a half-hour flight from Friday Harbor, but it was a world away. Mark loved Seattle, the gray winter downpours and lemon-colored summers, the culture of books and coffee, the restaurants that always told you where and when the fish was caught. And he loved the spectacular variety of women, stylish, smart, sexy, funny. He had no desire to commit to any particular woman. He wasn't just afraid of commitment, he was allergic to it.

Now, apparently, he was settling down with someone whether he was ready or not.

And she was five.

It had been enough to make Mark panic. Except that when he looked across the room at his niece, the enormity of her loss, her aloneness, had hit him like a ton of bricks. Halle had no choice about what was happening to her. But Mark did have a choice, and for once in his life, he was going to try to do the right thing. It was obvious that he was going to be a rotten parent, but maybe that was still better for Halle than being shoved off on strangers.

And then Mark had looked at Sam, and it had occurred to him that Sam owed her just as much as he did. “We're a family,” he had heard himself saying.

Sam had looked at him blankly.

“You, me, and Halle,” Mark had said. “There's only the three of us. We should do this together.”

“Do what together? You mean…you want me to help you raise Halle? Jesus, Mark.
No
. Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know anything about kids.”

“Neither do I.”

“We're not really a family,” Sam had said. “I'm pretty sure I don't even like you.”

“Tough luck,” Mark said, gaining confidence in the idea. “If I'm doing this, you're helping me. Halle and I are moving in with you at Rainshadow. There's plenty of room.”

Sam lived on San Juan Island in a big Victorian country house, running the vineyard and winery their father had started more than thirty years earlier. The place was
named after the rainshadow cast by the Olympic Mountains, which spared the island much of the drizzle and grayness that surged over the rest of the Pacific Northwest.

Of the group of islands that formed an archipelago belonging to Washington State, San Juan was the farthest from the mainland. The air was dry and weighted with ocean salt, sweetened by the lavender harvests in summer. It was an easygoing, bare-limbed, full-flowered island, a place where bald eagles looped from tree to tree, and resident pods of orcas swam and fed and sometimes drifted lazily with the tide.

“There may be room in the house,” Sam had said, “but not in my life. You're not bringing her there, Mark.” Seeing the intractable look on his brother's face, he had cursed softly and said, “You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?”

“Yeah, I'm going to do it. Just for a while.” He had sighed shortly at Sam's expression. “Damn it, Sam, help me get through this beginning part. Halle and I don't even know each other.”

“And you think Friday Harbor's a better place to raise her than Seattle?” Sam had asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Mark had replied without hesitation. “I've got to slow things down. Living on island time is better for both of us.”

“What about your business?”

“Seattle's only a half-hour flight from Friday Harbor. I can go back and forth.”

They were both quiet for a minute. Sam looked around Mark at Halle's downbent head. She was methodically picking raisins out of cookies and making a little pile on
her plate. “Poor kid,” Sam whispered. “How do you think we're going to pull this off, Mark?”

“Like the saying goes…fake it so real you're beyond fake.”

Usually when your life went in a new direction, you had some kind of warning. You got to think it over, try it on for size, back out if it wasn't working. With a child…with Halle…there was no backing out. Which meant the only thing left to do was give it their best shot. They had made it through six months of painful holidays…Halle's first birthday without parents, the first Halloween, the first Thanksgiving without every place at the family table filled. Mark thought they were doing okay.

Until the letter.
…I don't want any presents this year except for one thing. I need a new mom.

“You realize what this means,” Mark told Sam after Halle had gone to bed that night.

“That we stink as parents,” Sam said, staring morosely at the glittering envelope in his hand. “She needs a woman in her life. Maybe we should find her a nanny.”

“It means,” Mark said quietly, “one of us needs to get married.”