An Old-Fashioned Christmas Romance Collection: 9 Stories Celebrate Christmas Traditions and Love from Bygone Years
448
An Old-Fashioned Christmas Romance Collection: 9 Stories Celebrate Christmas Traditions and Love from Bygone Years
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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781630585709 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Barbour Publishing, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 09/01/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 448 |
| File size: | 3 MB |
About the Author
Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards; and been finalists for the RITA, Daphne Du Maurier, Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol award contests. Library Journal presented her with a Best Books 2014: Genre Fiction award in the Christian Fiction category for Firewall.
DiAnn is a founding board member of the American Christian Fiction Writers; the 2015 president of the Romance Writers of America’s Faith, Hope & Love chapter; and a member of Advanced Writers and Speakers Association and International Thriller Writers. She speaks to various groups and teaches writing workshops around the country. She and her husband live in sunny Houston, Texas.
DiAnn is very active online and would love to connect with readers on any of the social media platforms listed at www.diannmills.com.
Rosey Dow is a bestselling and award-winning author with more than half a million books sold. Her novel, Reaping the Whirlwind, won the Christy Award for excellence in fiction. A former missionary and lifelong mystery buff, Rosey now makes her home in Delaware, where she edits, writes, and speaks full-time. She invites her readers to connect with her on Facebook.
REBECCA GERMANY works full-time as a fiction editor and has written and compiled several novellas and gift books. She lives in Ohio, where she enjoys country life.
JoAnn lives on the Minnesota prairie which is a setting for many of her stories. Once a full-time CPA, JoAnn now spends most of her time researching and writing. JoAnn has published historical nonfiction books for children and several novels with Barbour Publishing in the Heartsong Presents line as well as the American Adventure and Sisters in Time series for children. Several of her novellas are included in CBA best-selling anthologies by Barbour Publishing. JoAnn’s love of history developed when she worked at an historical restoration in North Carolina for five years. She enjoys researching and weaving her fictional characters’ lives into historical backgrounds and events. JoAnn believes that readers can receive a message of salvation and encouragement from well-crafted fiction. She captivates and addresses the deeper meaning between life and faith.
Sally Laity considers it a joy to know that the Lord can touch other hearts through her stories. She has written both historical and contemporary novels, including a co-authored series for Tyndale House and another for Barbour Publishing, nine Heartsong Romances, and twelve Barbour novellas. Her favorite pastimes include quilting for her church’s Prayer Quilt Ministry and scrapbooking. She makes her home in the beautiful Tehachapi Mountains of southern California with her husband of fifty years and enjoys being a grandma and great-grandma.
Multi-published author of numerous award-winning books, Loree is also a frequent guest speaker who encourages other writers. She lives in Maryland with her husband of (mumble-mumble) years, where she's determined to stay until she succeeds in prying the secret Old Bay Seasoning recipe from McCormick employees.
GAIL GAYMER MARTIN, multi-award–winning author, has been blessed with 52 published novels and nearly 4 million books in print. CBS local news listed Gail as one of the four best writers in the Detroit area. She is the author of Writing the Christian Romance from Writers Digest. Gail is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers and a member of numerous other professional writing and speaking organizations. In her earlier professional career, Gail was a teacher of English, literature, and public speaking at the high school and university levels and still enjoys teaching workshops at conferences across the US. She lives in Detroit, Michigan, northwest suburb with her husband and is active in her church, especially in the music program. Visit her website at www.gailgaymermartin.com.
COLLEEN L. REECE was born and raised in a small western Washington logging town. She learned to read by kerosene lamplight and dreamed of someday writing a book. God has multiplied Colleen's “someday” book into more than 140 titles that have sold six million copies. Colleen was twice voted Heartsong Presents' Favorite Author and later inducted into Heartsong's Hall of Fame. Several of her books have appeared on the CBA Bestseller list.
Read an Excerpt
An Old-Fashioned Christmas Romance Collection
9 Stories Celebrate Christmas Traditions and Love from Bygone Years
By Peggy Darty, Rosey Dow, Rebecca Germany, JoAnn A. Grote, Sally Laity, Loree Lough, Gail Gaymer Martin, DiAnn Mills, Collen L. Reece
Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Copyright © 2002 DiAnn MillsAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63058-570-9
CHAPTER 1
November 1851, near Philadelphia
Falling always came easy for Emma Leigh, especially when she had her mind on other matters. She smoothed the skirt of her worn, brown-and-pink-flowered dress, lifted her chin, and marched toward her employer's office at the Jones Inn. Abruptly, she slammed headlong into Thad Benson's armload of firewood.
The smell of freshly cut wood enveloped her senses mere seconds before the impact knocked her to the floor. Thad's bundle fell with a crash, but thankfully, none of the pieces hit her. Emma Leigh's hoop skirt, however, soared upward in a less than dignified manner.
"Oh my." Her cheeks flamed. She scrambled to push down her heap of snowy white petticoats and restore some semblance of balance and poise.
A calloused hand reached for hers overtop her hoop skirt and righted her to her feet.
"Thank you, Thad," she said, unable to look at him. He should have seen her coming. A combination of ruffled feelings and a bruised backside produced a bit of irritation.
"Are you hurt?" he said, shoving aside the pieces of wood. "I'm really sorry, Emma Leigh."
Forcing herself to stare into his face lined with concern, she swallowed a stinging remark and braved a smile. After all, sweet Thad, the young man in charge of the stables and all the outside grounds, would never intentionally harm anyone.
From the office came the sound of someone clearing his throat. Towering in the doorway, Alexander Jones, the owner of the inn, looked indeed formidable with his permanent frown. "What's all the racket?"
Thad whirled around. "Sir, I collided with Miss Carter. I do apologize for the incident."
"Is the young lady injured?" Mr. Jones crossed his arms over his narrow chest and leaned toward Emma Leigh.
She met the owner's gaze, feeling more humiliated than before. "No sir." Only my pride.
Mr. Jones pressed his lips tightly, but his mustache and beard jiggled, betraying his gruff reaction. The scene must have looked amusing, further intensifying her humiliation. "Gather up the firewood, Thad. You are dismissed." Nodding to Emma Leigh, he stepped aside from the doorway. "Miss Carter, I'll see you now."
Emma Leigh followed him into his office. She'd felt nervous before the fall, but now every part of her trembled. For a moment she feared toppling over his desk.
"Are you certain you are uninjured?" He peered down over his long, pointed nose.
"Yes sir." She hoped her voice sounded stronger than the weak reply rising in her ears.
Mr. Jones, impeccably dressed in a black suit, eased into his chair. She'd heard some of the staff refer to him as Old Matchstick. Although Emma Leigh didn't comment on his skeletal frame, she did wonder if he'd blow away on a blustery day. He smiled on occasion and greeted those who graced his inn with the utmost of hospitality and respect, but he insisted upon a meticulous establishment. Most of the staff feared him. He had the type of voice that carried—rather rolled—like thunder. Perhaps his mannerisms had something to do with his military background. But in any event, Emma Leigh had been summoned to his office.
"Sit down, Miss Carter." He gestured to an empty chair in front of his desk. His booming voice, devoid of passion, further alarmed her. "I've been observing you as you interact with the guests, and there's a matter we need to discuss."
The lump in her throat grew to boulder-sized proportions, and she rubbed her clammy hands together. A dozen grievances flashed across her mind. He surely must believe she shirked her duties. She lowered herself onto the chair, sitting stiffly on the edge, and gave him her attention.
"Christmas will be here before we're prepared." The grandfather clock in the main entrance struck ten times to punctuate his words. "In the past, the staff has engaged in merriment, which I believe is appropriate for the celebration of our Lord's birth. This year—" Mr. Jones cleared his throat. "This year I'd like for us to partake in something different, and I believe you can be of assistance."
Emma Leigh dug her fingers into her palms. "In what way, sir?"
He drew out a sheet of paper from his drawer and placed his spectacles on his nose. Picking up his quill, he dipped it into the inkwell. "Miss Carter, you have a way of exhibiting excellent social skills in your duties as the inn's hostess—however, you do at times overindulge." He scrutinized her over his spectacles.
"Yes sir. I mean, I'm sorry, sir."
He paused. "Very well. I'm assigning you the task of organizing a frugal yet highly enjoyable Christmas party for the staff. In the past, too much emphasis has been placed on an abundance of gift giving. This year, I'd like to see the holiday made more simple and meaningful." He painstakingly wrote something on the paper, then handed it to her. "This is your budget and your orders. Mrs. Weares will be notified of your extra duties, and that you will be assisting her in selecting the menu for the Christmas dinner."
Emma Leigh hastily read her new directives. "Thank you, Mr. Jones. When would you like for me to have this completed?"
"Ten days hence," he said. "I plan to call a holiday meeting to appoint those who will be decorating the inn and such. You can present your findings then. Of course, I need to approve them beforehand."
Humility washed over Emma Leigh. "Yes sir. I ... I am greatly honored."
His eyes widened. "Goodness, girl. I don't bite. Calm yourself and go on about your business." A slight smile tugged at his mustache. "After all, we're talking about a Christmas celebration. Just remember I want a memorable holiday." With those words, Mr. Jones dismissed her with a perfunctory nod.
Ah, he wasn't so fearsome after all. Stepping into the entranceway of the inn, Emma Leigh saw the polished floor had been swept spotless. Not a trace of bark or splinter remained to tell of the collision. For the first time, she realized she could have been badly hurt with the firewood flying in all directions. Poor, shy Thad. He must feel terrible. At her first opportunity, she'd reassure him the happening was indeed an accident and as much her fault as anyone's. She'd been so caught up in meeting with Mr. Jones that she hadn't paid attention to anything else.
Clutching the paper outlining her new duties, Emma Leigh took her position at the front desk where she greeted guests, showed them to their rooms, and helped them in any way she could. Excitement caused a smile as though Christmas were tomorrow. During the moments when her services were not needed, her thoughts and prayers would be engrossed in providing a memorable celebration for the staff at the Jones Inn.
* * *
Thad lifted the ax high above his head and sent it crashing into the log. Sawdust and splinters flew every which way. Tossing aside the split wood, he set another log in its place.
He should have seen Emma Leigh coming.
He'd been thinking about those large doe eyes and the sound of her sweet voice when he sent her sprawling to the floor.
And right in front of Mr. Jones. The owner had just spoken to him about raising his pay and extending his duties to include inside maintenance of the inn. Thad grimaced. He'd left such an improper impression.
Most likely Emma Leigh would never speak to him again, and Mr. Jones would forget about elevating Thad to a new position. Both probabilities ended his dreams of saving additional money and someday inviting Emma Leigh to spend the rest of her life with him.
Thad lifted the ax and rested it on his right shoulder. He'd known Emma Leigh since they were children in school. Back then his parents were living. Those were happier days, when laughter swept through their clapboard country home like a breeze on a hot day. His father, a country doctor, and his devoted mother never said no to a single person in need—whether the need be medical or financial. But all their goodness ended when his parents drowned in a tragic buggy accident.
Thad had spent the first three years since their deaths living alone in Boston, but then he had returned to his home village and moved in with his uncle and Swedish-born aunt. He could fend for himself in his parents' home, but he simply chose not to spend time alone. Sometimes he visited the homestead and tidied up a bit, often reflecting on more pleasant times, but he didn't allow his thoughts to be consumed with bitterness or regret. God had taken his parents for a reason, and they'd left a legacy of unselfish giving. In their memory and with the peace God had given him, Thad chose to live his life just as his parents had: serving the Lord with all his might. Like his father, Thad had committed his life to medicine.
Kicking aside the split wood, he set the last piece in place and sank the ax all the way through. The chunk divided into two separate pieces, just like Emma Leigh and him.
His favorite memory of her occurred when she was about nine and he nearly eleven. George, one of the older boys, had insisted upon bullying a younger one, and Emma Leigh must have had her fill. She marched over to the children watching the badgering and pushed her way through. She stomped her feet and shook her fist in the bully's face, her light brown pigtails bouncing with her denunciation of the ignoble deed.
"Jesus doesn't want us hurting other people," she'd said. "When you do, it hurts Him!"
Thad still recalled the way Emma Leigh's turned-up nose wrinkled when she concentrated—like poor George that day. Oddly enough, George had released the younger boy.
Even then, Emma Leigh possessed the ability to make folks see the error of their ways. Yet she always did so in a tender fashion. After confronting George, she shared her noon meal with him. Years later, George had become a preacher—a good one, too.
Back then, Thad had cared for the little girl, and now he found himself hopelessly in love with her. But she needed an outgoing man, one who could give her a good life and show off her grand beauty. Because of her father's long illness, she knew nothing but poverty, and Thad had medical school to complete. He couldn't ask her to marry him until he had something more to offer.
Thad needed to apologize. And he must speak with her today.
Evening shadows danced across the quiet yard of the inn before he finished his chores. Already the ground beneath him crunched in anticipation of another frost. Glancing back at the barn, he saw the moonlight reflecting in a silvery glow from the weathered side of the structure. Beauty in simple things. Perfection in God's creation. They served to remind him of Emma Leigh.
He entered the inn through the back near the kitchen and stomped his feet until no trace of debris could be tracked inside. His gaze noted the cook, Sarah, placing the finishing touches on a platter of beef, garnished in potatoes, carrots, and onions. Her white bonnet accented her red hair, and the warm glow of the fire spiced her cheeks like red apples. The woman smiled.
"Aye, Thad. Working late, are ye?"
"Yes ma'am. Mr. Jones is expecting a large party tomorrow from Philadelphia, and I wanted the harnesses shined before I fetched them in the morning."
"Good boy. Are ye a-needin' something?"
Thad felt his cheeks warm and his toes tingle in his boots. "I needed to speak with Miss Carter."
Sarah tilted her head and gave him a sad smile. Did the dear woman read his heart? "Her father already came by."
Determined to hide his disappointment, Thad thanked her kindly and trekked outside. Emma Leigh lived about three miles from the inn. He'd gladly walk the distance to ease his conscience. There'd be no resting for him tonight until he knew she'd forgiven him for the fall.
CHAPTER 2Emma Leigh chatted with Papa all during the wagon ride home from the inn. The cooler air caused her to wrap her arms about her as she told him about the meeting with Mr. Jones and her new assignment. Of course, she bent poor Papa's ear until she knew he must be ready for her to hush.
"I'm sorry, Papa. I'm talking on and not bothering to ask about your day."
Papa reached to give her shoulders a squeeze. "I daresay the happenings at home were not as exciting as yours. With the grain harvested, my hours are starting to slow a bit. We have good apples this year—I believe plenty for the months ahead."
"They will taste good when the wind is blowing and the snow is piled high."
For the past year and a half, neither Papa's crops nor his health had done well. Emma Leigh had taken the job at the inn to help her family, despite her father's protests. Her duties at the inn interested her, and she'd stayed on. The extra money provided additional food and clothing for her family.
"Talk to your mother about the inn's Christmas. I'm sure she can help you much better than I."
Once home, Emma Leigh greeted her five brothers and sister before helping Mama ladle tender chunks of rabbit, potatoes, and a few scant carrots into mismatched pieces of cracked crockery for dinner. The enticing aroma of apples and spices slowly simmering over the fire and transforming into thick, dark apple butter tantalized her senses. The wind whistled around the meager cabin, ushering a draft through the cracks in the rough-sawn logs. She glanced at the children and saw they were warmly dressed, but patches were worn thin. A shiver raced up her spine from fear for her siblings in the winter ahead.
Oh, Lord, keep them healthy. We've already lost three to putrid fever. Charles is still not well. Help me not to complain but be a humble servant.
Emma Leigh roused the dog and ordered him to play next to the younger children where the animal's heat would keep them warm. Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention to Mama and explained her dilemma about the inn's Christmas celebration.
"What can I do?" Emma Leigh accidentally stuck her finger in the hot stew and yanked it back. Poking the finger in her mouth, then rubbing it vigorously, she glanced up at her mother expectantly.
Mama wiped her hands on a clean apron and silently examined her finger. Hearing a howl, she cast a disapproving glance at one of her sons, who had pulled his brother's hair. "It's Emma Leigh's turn for your mama's attention. Mind your manners." She lifted a crusty brown loaf of bread from the hearth. "Emma Leigh, I think you need to pray about the matter. I will say those fine people at the inn want a holiday that knits their hearts with friendship and love. Simple joys and laughter are the best gifts of all, especially when they are tied with a ribbon of love."
Emma Leigh always paid attention to her mother's wisdom. Simple joys and laughter. "How can one give joy and laughter? They can't be wrapped and tied with a colorful piece of yarn."
"But those things are everlasting, the kind of treasures from which memories are made." Her mother snapped her fingers in the direction of the children. "Joseph, do not tease your brother again or you will forfeit your supper."
"I'm confused." Emma sighed and picked up baby Charles, who had crawled to her feet and tugged at her skirts. His little shirt and drawers bore knee marks from the day's adventures.
"Emma Leigh, you will find a way." Mama smiled and planted a kiss on Charles's cheek before motioning for the other children and Papa to gather around the table.
As soon as Papa had asked the blessing, Emma Leigh buried herself in thought. The hum of children's voices rose and fell in the wake of contemplating Mr. Jones's request. The stew tasted delicious, and the hot bread thinly coated with freshly churned butter filled the empty spot in her stomach, but she still had no idea how the staff should celebrate Christmas.
Midway through the meal, a pounding at the door seized her attention. Papa rose from his chair and answered it. The heavy wooden door with its leather hinges squeaked open.
"Evenin', Thad. Come on in. You haven't visited us in a long time." Papa shook his hand. "You're just in time for supper."
Emma Leigh couldn't believe Thad stood before her. Whatever could he need from them? He looked a bit troubled. She hoped nothing terrible had happened to his aunt or uncle.
"Evenin' to you, too, Mr. Carter." Thad removed his cap and nodded at Mama. "Hope everything is well with you, ma'am. Sorry to disturb your supper, but I will only be a minute."
Emma Leigh noted how broad his shoulders had become. Since they were in school together, he'd grown to quite a handsome man. She felt herself blush. She shouldn't be thinking such thoughts, but Thad had always captured a soft spot in her heart.
"If you don't mind, sir, I'd like a word with Miss Emma Leigh." Thad's clear blue gaze bore into hers as though he'd read her earlier thoughts.
She felt her skin tingle and knew a bright shade of red glistened on her cheeks.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from An Old-Fashioned Christmas Romance Collection by Peggy Darty, Rosey Dow, Rebecca Germany, JoAnn A. Grote, Sally Laity, Loree Lough, Gail Gaymer Martin, DiAnn Mills, Collen L. Reece. Copyright © 2002 DiAnn Mills. Excerpted by permission of Barbour Publishing, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Dreams and Secrets by DiAnn Mills,Miracle on Kismet Hill by Loree Lough,
Yuletide Treasures by Gail Gaymer Martin,
For the Love of a Child by Sally Laity,
Paper Roses by JoAnn A. Grote,
Dreams by Peggy Darty,
Eyes of the Heart by Rosey Dow,
Christmas Flower by Colleen L. Reece,
Bittersweet by Rebecca Germany,
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