Holly wanted to do so many things. She wanted to call out her forgiveness. But she didn’t want to cause a scene in public. They were already attracting curious stares. Instead, she opted to place her hand on top of his. She glanced into his honey-brown eyes and waited for a response. They lit with hope. “Call on me when you return, Holly.”
“I shall.”
He waited on the platform until the train pulled away, and she watched him slowly fade into the backdrop of the station and disappear.
“Are you certain this is what you want to do, daughter?”
“Yes, Daddy, I am sure.” Holly’s voice quivered.
As the train pulled out and rocked back and forth on the rails, Holly saw the Savannah River pulling away. The life she once knew departed quickly, just like the river. The rocking, the racket and the drift of the Savannah from her view held no resemblance to the gentle drift of an imaginary gondola down the canals of Venice. Why run from Bryce when all they had ever been to one another was each other’s best friend? Holly closed her eyes and tried to hold back the tears. She was running. The very thing that Bryce had tried to help her avoid.
“Do you want to talk about it, darlin’?”
* * *
A fortnight had passed with no word from Holly. Bryce’s relationship with John Graham had diminished to the point that Bryce no longer helped the Grahams and stayed away when their mutual families got together. It was evident that John blamed Bryce for Holly’s departure and Bryce couldn’t fault the man for his opinion because he agreed—at least to a point.
He stood in the house that no longer gave him joy, as beautiful as it had become. The cabinets were in. The floors were refinished and looked like new. The painter had begun putting up the wallpaper in the dining room and front parlor. Bryce worked on the exterior, and even though Holly was gone, he continued with his father’s schedule of having his brothers, Chad and Ryan, run the plantation. He spent most of his time at the house.
He scanned the house once again. Next week it would be ready to sell. All of his plans and dreams would be for someone else. Hopefully that someone would have a good life in this house, the kind he’d been hoping and praying for with Holly.
“Hello?” a familiar female voice called from the front door.
“Catherine? What are you doing here?”
His sister came into view with her slightly protruding belly. “I had Michael follow you yesterday and report where you’ve been going every day. So, who owns this place?”
“I do. I’m about to put it on the market.”
“May I have a look around?”
“Of course.” Bryce escorted his sister through the various rooms and concluded with the kitchen.
“This is very nice. You’ve put a lot of work into it.”
If only he had kept his secret a little longer. Perhaps Holly wouldn’t feel so hedged in. “Thank you.”
“You bought this for Holly, didn’t you?”
“It was foolish, I know, but yes, I did. Little did I know that her mother would pass away and...”
“Her life would be turned upside down,” Catherine finished for him. “How is she doing?”
“Haven’t heard from her since she went to Tennessee.”
“Oh, so you don’t know she returned on last evening’s train.”
“No, I did not.” Bryce scanned the room for a possible place to sit. Seeing nothing he asked, “Would you like to sit in the garden? There is still much to do, but there are several benches where we can rest.”
“That would be nice. I came to talk with you about the problems between you and the Grahams.”
“There is nothing to say. John Graham blames me for pushing Holly away. I cannot blame him. If I hadn’t...”
“What did you do?”
He took hold of his sister’s elbow and escorted her to the backyard and to one of the benches that sat under a tall magnolia tree. “Nothing disrespectful. However, it was not the time to share with Holly my plans and hopes for the future. I knew better. Holly is Holly, and she has a mind and will of her own. What was I thinking that this grand surprise would be a welcomed gift to her? Instead it was an albatross that sunk her into a further pit of confusion. The real problem is, she came to me to help her navigate through these emotions, and what did I do? I put further complications into her life. I am such a fool. She will never want or trust me again.”
“Time will help.”
“Perhaps. But I do not give it much hope.”
“How are you going to mend the fence with John Graham?”
“I do not believe I can. I know details about the past that he is not comfortable with my knowing.” He looked up at the house. “Perhaps I should move into this house, then maybe Mom and Dad can maintain their close relationship with the Grahams.”
“What about work on the plantation?”
“Father gave me three months’ leave, so I decided I would take it. I’m hoping to profit from the sale of the house. I will buy another and refurbish it like I did this one.”
“Bryce.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “I know you are hurting right now. But don’t give up on Holly. Give her the time she needs.”
“I have decided I will wait until the end of the year. If she does not contact me by then, I shall assume she is not interested. Until then, I will keep to myself, do the work needed for the family plantation and anything else.”
“Perhaps living on your own might give you and both families the space they need. Can I help you move in?”
Bryce chuckled. “I haven’t even told Mom and Dad about this place yet.”
“Ah, well, Michael told me in front of them.”
“Seems like I am making bad choices in all sorts of directions. What did Father say?”
“Nothing. He seemed perplexed. But he does have the address, so don’t be surprised if he stops by.”
“Thank you for the warning.” He glanced into his sister’s eyes. “I need time to heal, as well, I guess. Thanks for your caring, and for being a treasured member of my family. Speaking of which, when will this niece or nephew be making an appearance?”
“In mid-February, we hope.”
“I am happy for you.”
Moving into the house suddenly seemed the logical choice. He knew his mother and father would find it odd, but they would support him and his decisions.
* * *
Holly sat at the Jarvises’ dinner table, surprised to find Bryce absent for the evening. To find he had moved to town into his own house sent an uneasy vibration in her spine. She missed him in so many ways, but when she heard mention of the house, the knot in her stomach tightened again.
She’d been home for three days and life had gradually settled into place. The Grahams were all still grieving, but normalcy prevailed. Holly took care of the household and the younger children. Her father had gone back to work while she’d visited her Tennessee family.
Tennessee... She could still picture everyone’s face. Daddy had been right; the family accepted her as if she’d always been one of them. And in fact, she had been. Emmett Landers had never hidden the fact that he’d been married once before and that he had a daughter from that marriage.
He had helped her deal with her grief for her mother, encouraging her to cry, be angry and do whatever it took to get rid of the bottled emotions that came with the loss of a loved one. She liked Emmett and had grown to love him. And she knew that he loved her. But she knew her place was here in Savannah, helping her family deal with the loss. She loved them, and she had missed them.
She had the most concern for Tiffany. She seemed to be attracted to the bad boys in school; the ones who pulled practical jokes, who didn’t study, who seemed to live life on the edge. She had even smelled some alcohol on her breath one day.
Holly’s relationship with her stepfather had changed. He became overly protective. He feared Emmett’s influence in her life. In truth, he seemed fearful he would lose her. He blamed Bryce for her sudden departure and no amount of persuasion could convince him otherwise. His part—his responsibility—in the decades-long subterfuge did not register in his mind.
“Holly, can you pass the bread, please?” Tiff asked.
She reached for the pewter platter and handed it to the person on her left and watched the platter make its rounds until it made its destination in front of Tiffany.
“Thank you.”
It felt so odd not seeing Bryce at the table.
“John, how are you doing?” Mrs. Jarvis asked.
“Regaining some of the normalcy back in my life—our lives.” He scanned the table and lingered on Holly for a moment longer than the rest. He was hurt. She knew he didn’t understand the betrayal she felt. And she knew he was happy to see her home.
“And how are you young folk doing in school?”
“I miss Mommy,” Calvin said, pouting. “I miss Bryce, too. Where is he?”
“He lives in his own home now, sweetheart,” Cynthia Jarvis explained. She ran her fingers through Calvin’s red hair, a connection Holly had with him.
“We don’t live here and we came for supper.”
Lloyd chuckled. “That is true, son. But Bryce is a man now and is making his own home. Which means he has all kinds of chores he has to do on his own.”
Holly tensed. Was Lloyd Jarvis implying she should be in that home with Bryce? “Personally, I think he should have saved his money. But then again, he has a good mind for business. He purchased the house at a great price, and even with all that he spent on improvements he stands to make a nice profit. In fact, he’s looking to purchase another home and do the same after this one sells.”
“A man ought not to invest in too many homes.” John’s words soured the atmosphere in the room.
“He is selling?” Holly blurted. “But he was so excited about that house and all the improvements he was making.”
Mrs. Jarvis stood. “He is a wise man. I know he shall do well for himself. Can I bring out some blueberry pie for anyone?”
The table conversation dissolved into the energetic cheers of all the younger children. Holly knew that she would have to have another conversation with her stepfather. He needed to understand she’d left for Tennessee because of the confusion he and her mother had introduced into her life...not Bryce.
The rest of the evening dragged for Holly. She no longer seemed to fit as she once had. Bryce had always been her companion, as well as Catherine.
After they arrived home and she’d seen the younger children to bed, she approached John’s office and tapped the door frame. “Father?”
“Yes.” He lifted his head. A sea of paperwork was scattered around the table.
“May I have a word with you?”
“Of course, you know I am always here for you.”
She smiled. “Yes, I know, Father. I am concerned by your apparent distrust or dislike for Bryce. He did nothing wrong.”
“If he hadn’t...”
“He did nothing wrong. He simply assumed I would court him once you gave us permission. His assumption felt controlling. Forgive me, but it is the very same issue I am having with you and Mother.”
“We never meant to control you.”
“I know that. Emmett helped me to understand. However, that does not take away from the fact that I have had suitors and you had not informed me. In fact, you turned them all away, just like Bryce. Why didn’t you allow me to have the potential of marrying a man before I turned twenty-one?”
John Graham paled.
“This is why I left. I needed time to clear my head. I needed space from the pain of losing Momma, and the pain of not knowing my father. He is a good man.”
“Honey, I know he is a good man. That wasn’t the point.”
“No, deceit was. I am not a Graham. I am a Landers, and yet you had me believe I was a Graham all of my life. Why not tell me the truth? Even at eight I would have understood.”
John pursed his lips. “I can see how you might view it that way. There were other reasons for my decisions. I will simply leave it at that.”
“Fine, I will not push you for more details. I love you, Father. I always will. But don’t try to hold on to me too tightly. I would more than likely be inclined to rebel.”
“Ah, your mother warned me about that. I shall try.”
“Father, I am taking control over my own life. From now on I will allow men to come to you for possibly courting me, but you will speak to me and I will decide. Am I making myself clear on this point?”
John stiffened. “Quite. This is not how I raised you.”
“No, it is not. But suffice it to say there are some losses that have come into our lives that go beyond the loss of Mother.”
John nodded.
She leaned into him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I still love you.”
“And I you, daughter.”
She smiled and noticed the slight wrinkles around her father’s eyes. “Good night, Father. I will see you in the morning.”
If only she had the right words to say to Bryce.
Chapter 8
T
oday marked the two-month anniversary of her mother’s death, and the loss had taken its toll on the family. Holly’s concerns focused on her siblings. Tiffany seemed more distant. She’d been staying later and later after school. Holly prayed daily for Tiff.
She set the table for dinner. Tiffany should be home soon. The boys had arrived an hour ago.
Please, Lord, keep her safe,
she prayed in silence.
The heavy thud of a door meeting its jambs and the scuffle of approaching boots on the hardwood floor broke the solitude of her kitchen sanctuary.
“Where’s Tiff?” Calvin said as he plopped a rabbit on the counter.
“Take that outside and prepare it, young man. You know better.”
“You’re mean. Momma would have helped me.”
“Momma would have tanned your hide for bringing it in here, and you know that. Now take it outside and start preparing it.” The boys knew better than to kill an animal if they weren’t going to eat it. Holly didn’t care for rabbit stew but Calvin loved it. The only time she served it was after he hunted one down.
The front door slammed open. Holly turned to see Tiffany running through the great room toward the stairs. “Calvin, take that out of here and then wash up.” She removed all the pans from the hot surface of the stove and wiped her hands on the white apron around her waist.
Holly hurried from the kitchen, hitched up her skirt to run up the stairs and followed after Tiffany. She stopped at the bedroom and gave a gentle knock on the painted panel door. “Tiff?” Muted cries were the only response. She turned the fluted glass knob and opened the door. Tiffany lay sprawled across the bed, crying into her pillow.
“Honey, what is the matter?”
Tiffany didn’t respond. Her stifled cries increased to wailing.
Holly sat beside her on the bed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” she murmured.
“Is it Momma?”
Tiffany’s chocolate swirls tossed back and forth. “Maybe a little. Mostly it was Bobby. He kissed me and said I don’t know what I was doing.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Do you know what you are doing?”
“Well, no, but... Why would he say that?”
Why would you do such a thing?
“I do not know, but why would you be kissing Bobby?”
“Because I like him.” Tiffany spun around and faced Holly. “Isn’t that what people do when they like one another?”
“Well, yes, but not until they are properly courting.”
“If I wait for courting I will never kiss a boy. Have you?”
“Well, no, not yet.”
“See. You are nearly twenty-one and never been kissed. That is just wrong.” Tiffany crossed her arms.
“Tiff, why don’t you tell me why you felt the need to be kissed by a boy that you do not love?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what drove you to want a kiss from Bobby? And if it did not matter who kissed you, why did you want to be kissed?”
“Bobby is all right. He was the best looking of the bunch.”
“So you were with a group of others and kissed him. Was this a kind of a dare situation?”
“Sort of...not really. I don’t see what all the fuss is about that I was kissing Bobby.”
“The fuss is the reaction you felt after being kissed by a boy who then rejected your kisses. The reason I haven’t kissed anyone yet—” her mind flashed back to the barn and the desire to kiss Bryce “—is that I feel my kisses are special. They are gifts to my husband, and only to him.”
“Don’t you want to practice first?”
Holly chuckled. “I think I would like to practice with my husband. We can learn together.”
“Well, if your husband is Bryce, you won’t be his first.”
“What?”
“I heard Bryce telling his friend not to tell you about all the girls he dated in college. He told his friend he didn’t kiss and tell.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t know if I will be marrying Bryce, or anyone for that matter, at this point in time.”
“That is my point. I don’t want to be an old maid like you. I want my own life, my own house, my own husband and children. I am happy you are here taking care of all of us, but that isn’t the kind of life I want for myself.”
“And perhaps the good Lord will give you the desires of your heart. But how do you think your husband will feel to find out he isn’t the first one to kiss you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Kisses are gifts of love, as are other intimate expressions of love to your spouse. I choose to save my gifts for my husband. I believe that is how God planned it for a husband and wife. The question is, do you see yourself as a precious gift for your spouse? Only you can give yourself to another. You choose what kind of gift you want to give to your spouse—one that’s been used or one that is special and clean.”
“You are talking about more than kisses, aren’t you?”
“I am. And I know you learned from the same woman I did about your special gift for your husband.”
Tiffany sighed. “Momma would not be pleased.”
“No, she wouldn’t. And I am not your mother, Tiff, so you need to tell Father what happened, and why. You need to decide if you are going to honor your spouse with an unused gift. I cannot do that for you. Only you can.” Holly gave her sister a hug. “Wash your face and come on down for dinner in fifteen minutes. Father is in his den.”
Holly prayed Father would understand the turmoil going on in Tiffany and not wring her neck.
She should know better. She does know better. She’s just suffering from having her world knocked out from under her, like me,
Holly reflected.
Back in the kitchen she found Calvin standing on a soapbox washing his hands in the kitchen sink. “Did you string him up?”
“Yes ’em. I’ll skin ’im tomorrow mornin’ before school.”
“I’ll have a pot of rabbit stew for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Thank you, Holly.”
“You what?” Father’s voiced boomed from his den.
“Uh-oh, who’s in trouble now?” Calvin asked, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m glad it isn’t me this time.”
Holly chuckled. “It could have been if Father had come in to see that rabbit on the counter.”
“You won’t tell him, will ya?”
“Not this time. But don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes ’em. I promise.” Calvin ran off toward the back staircase, sneaking to his room away from his father’s den.
“Holly Elizabeth, come in here,” Father called out.
How is this going to be my fault?
* * *
Bryce headed his horse at an easy pace to Evergreen Cemetery to place a bouquet of flowers on Allison Graham’s tombstone. Today marked the two-month anniversary of her passing. How his life had changed since then. She’d been his second mother. He loved her and missed her terribly, but his loss compared not a wit to the loss Holly and her family felt, of that he was certain. It had turned Holly’s life—and his—topsy-turvy.
As he rounded the bend, his gaze settled on the rather shocking figure of Whit Butterfield kneeling in front of Mrs. Graham’s freshly carved headstone. Bryce’s grip tightened around the bouquet. Whit turned and acknowledged his approach.
“Excuse me, Bryce,” Whit mumbled.
Bryce chose to stay in the saddle and look down at the man. “Why would you come here today?” he growled. “What if one of the Graham family came here? What would you have said to them? You don’t have much sense in that head of yours, do you?”
“You have no right, Jarvis.” The vein in the center of Whit’s forehead bulged. “I have as much right to pay my respects as anyone. No matter what you or the rest of the world thinks about me. It’s not your place to judge.”
“But I have, and I find you lacking.”
“And you don’t think I do? Go ahead, have your say with Allison Graham. Pay your respects. But know this, you are no better than I.” Whit placed his hat back on top of his head and stomped off.
Bryce knelt beside Allison’s grave. “Forgive me, Allison.” He sighed. “Forgive me, Lord.”
“He’s right, you know!” Bryce turned around to see who had spoken. “You are no better.” A chill ran up his spine. No one was anywhere around. His conscience...his spirit...withered beneath the weight of God’s voice. He was judgmental. And unforgiving. He was no better than Whit. He’d sinned on more than one occasion. The man was clearly seeking forgiveness for a senseless accident, and what did Bryce do? Judge his intentions.
Images of Holly flooded in his mind. He’d ruined all chances for them to get together. He’d been zealous in his desire to surprise her with the gift of a house. Yet with Allison gone, he’d been insensitive to her needs. His failing her when she’d asked for help hurt most of all. “Forgive me, Father. Forgive me, Allison.”
He cried over the pain he’d caused others. He cried for the losses of Allison and Holly. He’d seek out Whit and apologize. He’d compose a letter and apologize to Holly. He cried for no particular reason at all. He stayed on his knees long enough that moisture from the ground now saturated his pant legs. Exhausted from the outburst of emotion he stood and placed the flowers. That is when he saw the stone that Holly had seen on the day of her mother’s funeral. “Here lies Emmett Landers. Born 1840 Died 1862 during the war. Beloved Husband and Father.”
“Why did Allison Graham leave the stone there once she knew he was still alive?” he muttered. He mounted his horse and headed back toward home. He continued to pray for guidance and understanding. Normally he was a patient man, even-tempered and not given to impulses, except around Holly. The first time he’d gotten into trouble because of her he was eleven and they had gathered a nest of baby field mice and brought them into the house. Mother had screamed. Holly had laughed and Bryce had pretended he was the great hunter tracking down every last one of them. Mother had not been amused. He’d taken full responsibility and Holly had never paid for that crime, at least not as far as he knew. There were many times when all of them ended up mucking stalls and doing some other smelly task in penance.
He, Catherine and Holly dubbed themselves the Three Musketeers until Chad turned eight and wanted to join in the fun. Then they were four. Most of their games were harmless. They playacted many of the stories in the woods they read about. Holly was Maid Marion to his Robin Hood. He never could convince her to play Juliet to his Romeo. And acting it out with his sister didn’t hold quite the same appeal as it would have had Holly starred in the role.
Bryce’s two-story home with Savannah-gray brick came into view. If Holly had seen the house, he knew she would have liked it. It fit her and her personality. The stairway up to the room above the carriage house held a small landing on top. He’d thought of playing Romeo and Juliet with Holly on those very stairs. He loved their childhood memories. “I have lost her, Father,” he mumbled his final prayer. “Forgive me.”
* * *
Holly breathed a sigh of relief leaving her father’s den. He had not blamed her, after all. In fact, he’d been pleased with how she had handled Tiffany’s situation. But it was clear more guidance for the children was needed. Their discussion led to the decision to secure a housekeeper. Holly would no longer have the sole responsibility of taking care of the family’s day-to-day needs. He wanted her to focus on the issues that would arise from the children growing up. Tiffany was now restricted to the house from any activity besides school for the next week. Holly completely agreed with the punishment.
But the last comment he made upon her leaving the room still resonated in her memory. “You were right, child. We should have told you much sooner. I am sorry.”
Her father had always been an even sort, a quality she liked in him, but apologies were few and far between. This one, she appreciated more than he knew. It calmed a piece of her that had been on edge since she’d returned from Tennessee. It made her see how she could thrive with two very different fathers in her life.
She served the family meal and everyone ate heartily. Calvin told of his adventures with his great rabbit hunt and the rest of the boys chimed in. Tiffany remained somber, only reacting when Holly gave her a smile every now and again.
As evening settled on the house, Holly realized she’d been avoiding Bryce. He had told her he would not approach her. If she wanted a relationship with him, she must take the first steps.
Did she want to? She wanted her dear friend back. She didn’t feel ready for a suitor in her life, though. With her world so askew, she just couldn’t feel much most of the time. When the feelings did come, the emotions were so strong and passionate she had a hard time controlling them.
In either case she feared Bryce. Which seemed utterly foolish.
She reached for her mother’s Bible, the same one that had contained the letters. Her father Emmett had given it to her mother for Christmas the year before they married. She thumbed through the pages but nothing caught her interest. She knew she needed to talk with someone but the only person she wanted to talk to was Bryce. “God, what am I to do?”
She stopped at Proverbs 3:5-6. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” She knew the verse well. Her mother had often quoted it. While she knew she should follow the teaching, a part of her needed more time to heal from the loss. Another part was afraid she would never feel any emotion again. She seemed numb. And yet she’d witnessed from a distance others who had lost someone and gone on with their lives. Were their lives buried in gray, too? Food lost its taste? Flowers their fragrance?
Her mind went to Bryce. Would it be so bad to be married to him?
He is handsome. He cares for me. We talk well with one another. He’d be a good provider.
How many men were able to buy a house at twenty-three years old? Not many, she supposed.
Holly was more confused and conflicted than ever. The verse in Proverbs did little to quiet her churning mind. Finally she prepared an early breakfast for the family, then rode into town before the sun rose.
A two-story house with a carriage house on the property and near Forsythe Park totaled the little she knew of Bryce’s home.