Pennyroyal Christmas (A Ruthorford Holiday Story Book 1) (8 page)

She shook her head. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Good. I’m not that great a cook.”

The doorbell chimed and Tramp barked simultaneously. They both grinned. It was obviously a happy bark. Rowe made his way to the door.

Tramp bounded in, racing to Kat, who juggled the mug, trying not to spill the hot tea. “Easy,” she said with a laugh. Tramp sat, cocked his head, and watched her intently.

“What was the name of that dog, you know…the one listening for his master’s voice?” Brenda’s happy voice trilled.

Teresa strode in behind her, handing off a large basket to Rowe. “Brenda, sweetie, they have no idea what you are talking about. I can assure you, that was before their time.”

Brenda’s flush heightened.

Kat laughed and stunned them when she announced, “That was Nipper, the RCA Victor dog listening to a phonograph.”

Both women gave her a look of surprise.

“Okay, it was before my time. Actually, someone had me sculpt a model from the picture.”

“Thank goodness.” Teresa laughed. Then she turned to Brenda and made a slight motion with her head. When Brenda stammered, Teresa spoke up. “Kat. Brenda needs to talk with you. Rowe, why don’t you help me in the kitchen? We’ll bring dinner out when it’s ready.”

Kat nodded to the end of the couch, pulling back her feet to make more room. It was obvious the old woman was nervous, the way she played with the handle to her purse.

Brenda cleared her voice several time, opened her purse and dug out some old envelopes tied in a ribbon. She looked at Kat and smiled, her lips trembling slightly. Tears glistened in her eyes.

Kat sat up. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She leaned forward and took the woman’s hand.

“I’m having to do what you’re momma didn’t get a chance to do. And I don’t even know where to begin.” She pulled a lace handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. I guess you didn’t notice that my last name and the name on the deed are the same.”

Kat’s mind was still fuzzy. After a moment, her eyes widened. “I knew there was something familiar about something the day I met you. That’s it. Are we related? Mom said the cabin came from a distant relative.”

Brenda blushed even harder. She took a deep breath. “Yes, we’re related. And no, it didn’t come from a distant relative. It came from your father.”

Kat’s response was instantaneous. “Oh, no. He hated this place. I mean all of Ruthorford.”

“Not Chance. I mean your real father, Mark Garrett.”

“What?”

“I better start at the beginning. At least what I know of it. Your father—well, the man that raised you, Douglas Chance—was in the military. He wasn’t a very nice man. He was a mean drunk. One time, right before he shipped out, he got drunk and beat the daylights out of your mother. She waited, afraid for anyone to see…but was still having trouble after several weeks so she went to the infirmary, saying she’d fallen off a ladder. My brother, Mark, was a Lieutenant in the Navy, fulfilling his residency, in Norfolk, Virginia. He treated your mother. Over a period of time, they fell in love. But your mom believed in marriage and was determined to make a go of it. Doug came home and the inevitable happened again. Mark wanted to have him court martialed. She pleaded with Mark. She finally agreed to leave Doug.”

Brenda sat, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Kat, now crying as well, squeezed her hand.

Brenda took a deep breath and continued. “She waited for Mark to pick her up. She was so excited. She’d just found out they were going to have a baby—you.”

Kat clutched at her chest.

Brenda sniffed back a tear. “Mark never showed. He was killed in an automobile accident on the way.”

Teresa stepped in and handed Brenda a drink. The ice rattled in the glass as she tried to steady it. Teresa, helping steady the glass, moved it to her lips so she could drink. Without a word, Teresa walked back into the kitchen.

“I heard that your mother, pregnant and despondent, tried to commit suicide, and almost succeeded. Doug got out of the Navy, thinking she was pregnant with his child. He tried to turn his life around. At least that’s what she told me. You see, I was the one who contacted her about the cabin Mark had left her. I agreed to pretend to be a distant relative. It was still a long time before she got down here to see it.”

“I don’t know what happened when you all were here. I think Doug found out about your Mom and Mark. She had begged me not to write, so I didn’t. But she wrote me on occasion and sent pictures of you.” Brenda handed Kat the small bundle of envelopes.

“I didn’t know where you were. She wouldn’t tell me. Over the years, she changed. Got quieter, resigned to her fate. Then I heard they’d died in a boating accident. I’ve been taking care of the cabin since you all left. I don’t know what happened to you today, honey, but I promise you, that furnace was fine. I had it checked out when I heard you were coming.”

Rowe had walked in sometime during the conversation and slipped next to Kat, leaning her back against him, his arm around her waist. Teresa took the chair across from them, having set a box of tissues between Kat and Brenda. Kat looked from one to another. She stopped on Rowe. “Did you know?”

“No.” His voice was soft. A whisper.

She looked at Teresa, who nodded.

Turning back to Brenda, she saw the pain and anticipation etched in her face. “So…you’re my aunt?”

Brenda tried to smile.

“And that mean son of a bitch wasn’t my father.” She closed her eyes, happy and sad at the same time.

Brenda reached into her purse once more and handed Kat a picture. “This is a picture of your father,” she said and beamed with love.

Kat looked at the picture. A handsome young man sat atop a pinto horse, bared to the waist, fringed leggings pulled taught again muscular thighs.

“He’s…,” She looked up at Brenda.

Brenda nodded. “Part Indian. A quarter. We are very proud of that quarter.” She sat straighter.

Kat looked at Rowe.

“No relation. Well, not directly. I suppose…it depends on how you look…,” he stopped and laughed when Kat raised a brow. “I’ll explain tribal matriarchal lineage another time.”

Teresa stood. “This may be the least appropriate time, but is anybody hungry?”

They all nodded.

They ate in the greatroom, none of them wanting Kat to leave the couch. The food was scrumptious. Not too heavy. Broiled fish, herbed rice and braised Brussels sprouts with almonds. Teresa had included one of her pear tortes for dessert.

After dinner, Rowe insisted they leave the dishes and, after a bit some cajoling, they convinced him to bring down the Christmas ornaments. Kat had never seen a tree decorated so thoroughly so quickly. She wondered if it was a Ruthorford tradition to train everyone in holiday decorating. She felt like she’d just had her first Ruthorford lesson.

As the last ornament was placed on the tree, a snowy owl for the top, Kat snuck another glance at the picture of her father. How different her life would have been—

“I have some of your statues,” Brenda interrupted her musings.

“Oh.” Kat looked up.

“I will get them to you. Your mother sent them to me for safe-keeping.”

“I wondered….” She’d noticed three or four were missing from the armoire when she’d opened it. At least those were safe.

“Thank you.” Kat yawned. “I’m sorry. It’s all starting to catch up with me.”

Teresa walked over and sat on the edge of the couch. “You’ve had quite a day. Maybe you ought to sleep in tomorrow.” She leaned in and hugged Kat. “Now that we’ve got you, we want you around for a very, very long time.” She placed a kiss on her forehead.

As Teresa stood, Kat started to rise. Rowe’s firm hand held her in place. Brenda’s eyes twinkled. “Do what he wants, honey. You need the rest.” She, too, planted a kiss on her forehead. “When you’re better, have Rowe bring you in town. Plan to stay until it gets dark, so you can see the lights.”

At that moment, Rowe plugged in the tree and it came to life, lights sparkling off ornaments. No one said a word.

In that instant, Kat knew this was where she was meant to be.

Chapter Five

Kat rolled over and opened her eyes to big brown ones watching her. She smiled, reached over and planted a kiss on a cold, wet nose to be rewarded with a slight woof and the sound of a tail brushing the floor. She placed her hands on either side of the lopsided grin, and kneaded the fur just below his ears. His head leaned to one side, into her massage. Tramp did love a good massage.

“Hey, where do I sign up?” Rowe, carrying a tray, stood in the doorway.

“Oh,” she scooted back, pushing the pillows behind her and straightening the covers.

He set the tray on her lap, trying not to stare at the peaks of her breasts pressing against his tee shirt, the one he’d loaned her when she realized she’d forgotten. His mind went in overdrive and he tried to imagine what she didn’t have on under the covers. His raised his eyes to her smile.

“You have chores to do,” she taunted, feeling frisky.

“Did…done…,” he stammered.

“Then,” she said slowly, raising the cup to her lips, “have breakfast with me.”

“That was did…done, too, about two hours ago. But I’ll have a sip of your coffee.” He took the cup from her hands and licked a drop of coffee from the rim before taking a swallow.

Her throat went dry. Who was seducing whom here?

As tempted as he was to take that tray away and take her into his arms, he resisted. “Eat. You need your strength.”

She broke off a piece of toast and handed it to Tramp.

“He’s also eaten,” Rowe raised a brow at her.

“Okay.” She bit off a piece of toast.

“Are you up for a trip in town this afternoon? Teresa’s invited us to the B & B for dinner, after a stroll through town.”

“I’d love it. I’m feeling pretty good.”

****

They parked near the bed and breakfast and crossed over to say high to Brenda, who beamed with they walked in the door. Kat’s eyes twinkled as she looked at her knew-found aunt. The older woman could easily have passed for Mrs. Claus, with her bright red sweater, its collar trimmed in white fur. Her soft halo of white hair and glowing completed the image. Brenda bustled around the counter to hug, first Kat, then Rowe, then Kat again.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” she declared.

“For me, too,” Kat affirmed.

“We’re going to visit a few places, then have dinner. Join us?” Rowe asked.

“Heaven’s no. I’m heading home to soup and a new novel I picked up at the bookstore.”

“Well, if you change your mind—”

They were ushered toward the door. “No, no. You young ones go one. Remember to stop by The Shoppe of Spells and Elements.”

Impulsively, Kat brushed her lips across Brenda’s cheek. “Thank you.”

When they stepped out, fat flakes of snow had begun to fall. Kat looked across the street at Abbott Bed and Breakfast. Then she turned to look down the street and the lights came on.

 
“Oh, my,” she whispered.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Lights dripped from limbs. Lush wreaths encircled the lights of the lamp posts. Poinsettias bordered the fountains and the small trees sparkled with lights. Decorations and lights adorned each shop.

Kat was bundled in scarf, gloves and heavy coat, yet the cold nipped at her cheeks. Rowe took her gloved hand and led her down Main Street. Their first stop was the bookstore, Chapters. Candles flickered a warm welcome through windows outlined in glittering garland. Obviously, they weren’t real candles, but they sure looked it. A bell tinkled as they opened the black, crosshatched door.

Kat closed her eyes and inhaled. The smell of leather and paper was like a hug, familiar and warm. A large center stairway wound its way to the second level that encircled the building with bookshelves. A mixed aroma of coffee and chocolate wafted throughout. She wanted to find an overstuffed chair and curl up. As she turned around, she saw just that—a large brown leather chair, with a narrow table next to it, just right for a read. She smiled at Rowe.

“It’s one of my favorite places, too.”

A young man loped down the stairs, an armload of books precariously balanced. “Hi, Rowe,” he called and moved to the back where he stacked the books on a counter. “Getting ready for Santa’s Sleigh,” he added, turned and rubbed his hands together. His mop of unruly red curls made him appear much younger than he sounded.

“Kat,” he said as he took the man’s hand. “I’d like you to meet David McKenzie, third generation owner of Chapters. David, this is Kateri Chance.”

He took her hand, and with sudden realization, shook it harder. “
The
KC? Wait…,” he spluttered and pranced backwards, “wait right here. He turned and ran toward the back. “Brenna!”

Rowe laughed. “Just wait.”

Kat watched the back as a faerie type woman appeared through the door, her long strawberry hair flowing about her shoulders. She was tiny, not even five feet and one of the most dazzling creatures Kat had ever seen. She longed to sculpt the lovely girl.

The voice matched the image, a warm concoction with a slight burr of an accent. Blue eyes twinkled. “It
is
you.” She put her hand to her heart and looked back at David. “David, it’s KC.”

Kat laughed and held out her hand. “Kat,” she amended.

“I’m Brenna McKenzie,” the girl said. “I’ve dreamed of meeting you. I took a course and we got to study some of your work. I want to infuse life into clay, like you do. I...I…I’m talking too much.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell you what—I’d love to have you show me your work. And I would really love to sculpt you.”

Brenna’s color heightened. “Me? You want to sculpt me? David…” she turned toward the young man, “she wants to sculpt me.”

The two were priceless. Kat couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. They talked books and, of course, her work. David and Brenna had been married only about a month, still newlyweds, and their eyes glowed with love.

“We need to go, if we’re going to see any more,” Rowe said.

“Wait.” Brenna jumped up and ran up the steps. She was back almost as quick. “Please take this as a welcome present. She handed Kat a small volume of soft leather. It looked very old. It was an illustrated book of poetry, the sketches simple but magnificent, as though someone had adapted her pieces to sketches. It was by Brenna Mercer.

“I can’t.” Kat whispered.

“Please,” Brenna begged. I’ve known for years I wanted you to have this. I just never dreamed I would meet you right here.”

“It’s lovely. Thank you.” She leaned over and hugged her. “I will cherish it, always.”

“That was so sweet,” she said to Rowe, flipping through the pages as they stepped onto the sidewalk. The front had a tooled impression of some sort of flower on it. It looked vaguely familiar to Kat. Gently tucking it into her purse, she took Rowe’s hand. “Where to next?”

“Right here.” He stopped in front the building next door.

She looked up. Windows glinted, a faint violet color. Her eyes moved further up.
The Shoppe of Spells
. I remember this place. I came in with my mother once, years ago. A bell tinkled, announcing their arrival.

A soft woof came from the back, followed by laughter. A gorgeous man stepped out from the back. “Hey, Rowe,” he called, walked over, took Rowe’s hand and threw his arm around him. “We were just talking about John.” Dorian Drake turned and called over his shoulder, “Morgan, Rowe’s here.”

Another gorgeous woman, this one with flowing auburn tresses stepped out. She was easily Kat’s height and had the most amazing green eyes. They seemed to sparkle and Kat found herself glancing around at the lighting, trying to see what had caused the effect. She saw standard rail lights aimed at display shelves. She looked back at the couple. Standing side by side, their beauty took her breath. Kat realized she could spend the rest of her life happily sculpting the people of this town.

“I’m Morgan.” She rose up and kissed Rowe on the cheek. “You must be Kateri.” She took her into a hug, stepped back, did a slow blink, and with a tilted of her head, studied Kat. She blinked again, smiling. “None the worse for wear,” she announced to no one in particular.

Rowe beamed.

Before Kat could ask what she meant, Morgan walked behind the counter and set an earthen pot on the glass. “This is for you. I hope you like it.”

Kat walked over and picked up the delicate piece of pottery. It was beautiful and fired in a beautiful shade of purple. She lifted the lid. The scent of peppermint mixed with chocolate, delicate, yet addictive, tingled her senses. “It’s lovely.” Again, a sense of familiarity tugged at her. “What is it?”

Morgan smiled. “A little something I made up just for you. A candle made from pennyroyal and chocolate peppermint.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

Morgan wrapped the little pot in some paper and slipped it into a bag.

“The pot is from Elements, our next and last stop for today. I don’t want to tire you out too much.”

The words “I’m fine” and “she’s fine” came from both women simultaneously.

Morgan stepped around the counter and hugged, first Rowe, then Kat. Kat felt a slight surge of warmth infuse her body as Morgan embraced her. “Please, come see us again,” she said.

Kat nodded. “I will. We will,” she added, including Rowe. She knew she’d be back. The instant connection she had to Morgan felt right.

They left the shop and walked further down the street. “Remind me to ask you questions later,” she said.

A smile crinkled his eyes as he opened the door to Elements.

The interior was rustic with hand-hewn shelves displaying pottery, leatherwork and stone art. Jewelry rested casually in cases. It smelled fresh, like a cabin in the woods. Pine boughs with holly, decorated the displays. Kat meandered around the shop, picking up different pieces. She lovingly fondled a carved hawk. “It’s beautiful.”

She expected a Native American to be manning the shop. Who emerged from the back, carrying a large box was a middle-aged woman, her curly blonde hair tied back with a strip of leather. She wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of worn jeans and an exquisitely tooled leather vest on the shirt.

“Hey, Rowe,” she said as he took the box from her hands. “You can put it right over there. Thanks, sweetie.”

In two long strides, she was beside Kat. “I’m Ophelia,” she took Kat’s outstretched hand. “Don’t ask,” she said with a hearty laugh. “Just call me Dink. I know…can’t decide which is worse.” Another hearty laugh followed. Kat instantly adored the woman.

Dink leaned over behind another box and pulled out a brown package, wrapped in twine. “This is for you.” She plopped it into Kat’s hand.

“Everyone’s been so kind,” Kat said.

Dink smiled, “Welcome to Ruthorford, dear.”

Rowe shrugged and answered a couple of questions about some orders and shipments before turning to Kat. “I have a feeling our dinner is waiting,” he said.

“Nice to meet you,” Kat called over her shoulder and Rowe escorted her out the door.

The snow began falling in earnest. Kids stood by the fountain in the median, laughing, trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue. A light dusting was beginning to cover the grass. Rowe and Kat walked back up the street to the bed and breakfast, stopping by the car to drop off her gifts.

Teresa met them as they entered the inn. A huge tree, decorated in an old-fashioned milieu to match the Victorian building, stood proudly in a large bay, wrapped presents overflowing its skirt. The place smelled of hot food, fresh greenery, and mulled cider. “Let me take your coats,” she offered, took them and handed them off to a young girl. “Your table awaits.”

“Will you be joining us?” Kat asked.

“Last minute group of women from Mobile piled in this afternoon. Didn’t expect the snow. They were headed to the other side of Atlanta to a Romance Writers’ Conference. I told them it should be fine by tomorrow. You guys go on and enjoy. Is Brenda coming?”

Kat shook her head. “No. She said she was heading home to a book.”

“Then, let me sit you by the window so you can see downtown.” She led then into the dining room and seated them in a smaller bay then the one that held the tree. As she sat down, she looked out the window. A smaller version of the median fountain was off and the insides filled with red poinsettias and greenery. The top overflowed with green, red, and white streams of color. The ground around it was covered with a fine white powered of snow. She looked up and saw the lit lamp posts, trees, and window decorations. Even the benches had red ribbon laced through. A winter wonderland lay before her. The children that had been chasing snowflakes were now chasing one another, tossing balls of snow that fell apart as it landed.