Their Mistletoe Matchmakers. Keli Gwyn

      She blinked in disbelief. “You’re having them delivered here?”

      “Of course. This is where I live now.”

      Her surprise turned to shock. “You can’t. I mean, I know you have been, but you can’t continue to do so, not with me staying here. It wouldn’t be proper. Besides, I’ve given Gladys the downstairs bedroom, and I’m staying in the spare one upstairs.”

      He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. His calm tone was at odds with his rigid posture. “Let me see if I have this straight. First, you announce that you intend to take the children back east, and now you’re saying I can’t even stay in my own brother’s house?”

      Put that way, she came off looking high-handed, which she wasn’t. At least, she hadn’t meant to be. “This isn’t how I intended for things to happen. If only the letter had reached you before I arrived.” She’d spent hours getting the words just right.

      “You made the same deman—er, requests in your letter, I presume?”

      “I did, but I was more gracious.” She’d taken pains to state her case as tactfully as possible.

      He released his breath in an audible sigh. “Perhaps we could reach a compromise.”

      She didn’t see how that was possible, but she owed him the courtesy of hearing him out. “What do you have in mind?”

      “Since it would be safer for you and Gladys to stay here in the house, given that men greatly outnumber women, I’ll take a room at a boardinghouse. For the time being.”

      “That’s kind of you.” But that wasn’t the compromise. It obviously had to do with the children. Something told her Henry wasn’t going to give in as easily when it came to them. “And regarding the other part of the compromise?”

      “Let’s start by finding our common ground, shall we? Am I correct in thinking you want the children to remain together?”

      “Yes, of course! They shouldn’t be separated.”

      He nodded. “Good. Would you agree that keeping them in one location rather than dividing their time between here and Philadelphia would be wise?”

      “By all means. Uprooting them repeatedly would be quite disruptive. Children need stability. Not only that, but the journey is fraught with dangers. There’s the risk of shipwreck or disease. And now that Lincoln’s been elected...” She couldn’t bring herself to complete her thought.

      “War is imminent, so traveling the waters along the southern states isn’t wise.”

      “Exactly. That’s why Father wanted me to turn right around when I got here, but I convinced him that allowing the children to spend one final Christmas season in their own home instead of at sea would be a compassionate gesture. He saw my point but insisted we begin our journey by the end of the year. I assured him we would.”

      There. She’d let Henry know where things stood and had shown that her father could be reasonable. He was, on rare occasions anyhow, although she rarely challenged him for fear of enduring his slights. In fact, that was only the third time she’d done so. Christmas had been Pauline’s favorite holiday. Her children deserved to have the best one possible.

      Henry rested his left elbow on the arm of his chair and leaned away from Lavinia, putting as much distance as possible between them. He clasped his hands, lifted his gaze to the ceiling and closed his eyes, giving her the impression he was praying for patience. His shoulders rose and fell three times before he opened his eyes. They held conviction coupled with...compassion. An odd mix.

      “It appears we’re at an impasse. You loved your sister and want to do what you think best for our nieces and nephew. I loved my brother and Pauline, too, and want to do the same. They entrusted the children to me, which makes their choice of guardian clear.”

      Jack might have named Henry as guardian in the will, but Pauline had said long ago that if the unthinkable happened and the Lord took her and Jack home, she wanted Lavinia to care for the children. And she had the letter to prove it!

      Henry leaned toward her once again. “Let me ask you this. What do you think the children want?”

      He had an annoying habit of asking questions she didn’t care to answer. He knew what the youngsters would say. He’d been an important part of their lives since they were born, whereas they’d only met her eight days ago. She couldn’t permit him to question them on this point. Not yet. Not until she had an opportunity to let them know what wonderful things awaited them in the east.

      But how could she do that? They couldn’t begin to imagine how different life would be there, how much fun they would have. If only she could show them.

      An idea struck her, filling her with hope. She could show them. By creating a Christmas like those she and Pauline had enjoyed when they were young, the children would see what their lives would be like in Philadelphia and why she was eager to take them there.

      Showing what she could do for the children would also help strengthen her case should Henry refuse to relinquish his rights, forcing her to take legal action. She prayed he would have a change of heart before that, but she had her doubts.

      “I think what they want is to know they’re loved and will be well cared for. As I said before, we can start by doing all we can to see that they have as enjoyable a Christmas season as possible, considering the circumstances. Wouldn’t you agree?”

      Wariness creased his brow. “I can tell by the determination in your eyes that you’re up to something. What is it?”

      “Just what I said. I’m going to make this Christmas extra special.”

      “And after that?”

      Another probing question. But she’d anticipated this one and had a ready answer. “We’ll discuss the children’s future then. It makes no sense to do so now. You and I have only had two brief interactions. Postponing the conversation will give us time to get better acquainted and determine which of our situations would be best for the children. Not only that, but if we put off the matter and focus on the children at present, they won’t witness any petty quibbling on our part. Not that you’d engage in any, of course,” she said with playfully exaggerated sincerity.

      A slow, easy smile lifted Henry’s lips and eased the tension in his face—his very handsome face. “My dear Miss Crowne, I’ve underestimated your talents. You’re quite the diplomat.”

      She returned his smile. “And you, Mr. Hawthorn, are a worthy adversary. If you’re in agreement with my plan and are willing to wait until December twenty-sixth to revisit the matter then perhaps you’d be willing to shake on it.” She extended her hand.

      He stared at it a moment before taking it. His grip was firm but not overly so. To her surprise, he didn’t pull his hand back right away. Although she welcomed the reassuring gesture—and the resulting warmth that flowed through her—the resolve in his eyes gave her cause for concern. “I appreciate how much the children matter to you, but don’t expect me to change my position.”

      She didn’t, which was why she would work hard to show her nieces and nephew why they’d be better off with her—and gain custody of them.

      * * *

      Lavinia closed her bedroom door behind her and inhaled deeply. The tantalizing scent of pies filled the air—apple and pumpkin, with more to come. Gladys had spent the previous afternoon in the kitchen, and she’d be there again today, getting things ready for tomorrow. Although this Thanksgiving meal wouldn’t be as sumptuous as those Lavinia had enjoyed around her father’s table, it would give the children their first taste of what life would be like when they reached their new home.

      She rapped on Alex’s door. “Good morning, my favorite nephew. Are you awake?”

      “It’s too early,” he grumbled.

      “You’d better hurry, or the girls