Homecoming

By Beverly Jenkins

A  historical holiday story of homecoming and second-chance romance by NAACP Image Award Nominee, Beverly Jenkins.
In 1883, Lydia Cooper is happily traveling back home to celebrate the simple joys of the holidays when an unexpected complication appears in the all-too-distracting form of Gray Dane, the man she loved as a girl; the man she left behind. Gray, a soldier, is finally returning home too. Seeing Lydia after fifteen years reignites all the temptations from years ago…and also the pain and regret.
But as Lydia and Gray make their way home together, they get a chance to mend the past, and rediscover the joy, trust —and passion — of before; to realize that love isn’t just sweeter the second time around, it’s downright decadent.
This novella was previously published in Gettin’ Merry, A Holiday Anthology

• Language: English
• Publisher: NYLA
• Release date: Dec 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781943772377

Beverly Jenkins

Beverly Jenkins is the recipient of the 2018 Michigan Author Award by the Michigan Library Association, the 2017 Romance Writers of America Lifetime Achievement Award, as well as the 2016 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for historical romance. She has been nominated for the NAACP Image Award in Literature, was featured in both the documentary Love Between the Covers and on CBS Sunday Morning. Since the publication of Night Song in 1994, she has been leading the charge for inclusive romance, and has been a constant darling of reviewers, fans, and her peers alike, garnering accolades for her work from the likes of The Wall Street Journal, People Magazine, and NPR. To read more about Beverly, visit her at www.BeverlyJenkins.net.  

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Chapter 1

Detroit, Michigan December 1883

The December afternoon was so cold and windy that by the time Lydia Cooper made it up the steps to the boardinghouse where she planned to spend the night, she was freezing inside her thick wool cloak. The train ride from Chicago to Detroit had been exhausting. Due to the snowy weather, all of the scheduled stops had been late. To make matters worse, she and the rest of the passengers had ridden the long stretch from Kalamazoo to the Detroit depot being tortured by the ear-piercing screams of a howling infant. Setting aside her personal woes for now, Lydia gave the hack driver a tip for bringing her trunks to the boardinghouse’s porch. He departed with a smile and a touch of his hat.

In answer to Lydia’s knock upon the door, a tiny elderly woman appeared. The warm smile on her aged brown face made Lydia feel instantly welcomed.

Good afternoon, Lydia said. The driver said you let rooms?

I do, miss. The woman stepped back and beckoned. Come in out of that wind. You look like you’ve come a long way.

Lydia brought in her trunks, and the woman closed the door. The shivering Lydia glanced around the front room with its well-worn furniture and replied, I have. From Chicago.

That is a piece, the woman remarked. How long you staying?

Just the night. I’m going on to Sumpter in the morning.

Is that home?

Lydia took off her gloves, then nodded. Yes, ma’am.

Well, my name’s Shirley Harrison.

Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Harrison. I’m Lydia Cooper.

Pleased to have you.

Mrs. Harrison led Lydia up a short flight of stairs, then down a short hallway. Lydia wondered if the two rooms they passed held other boarders, but her curiosity fled when Mrs. Harrison ushered her into the room on the end. Inside, Mrs. Harrison opened the plain brown drapes on the lone window. The last pale light of the late December afternoon filtered in. The room was sparsely furnished but clean. The space held a bed with a flowered quilt. Beneath the window were a chair and a slightly lopsided writing desk. A large armoire made up the last of the furnishings.

Mrs. Harrison asked, Will this do you?

Lydia could already feel herself starting to relax. Yes, it will. How much?

Thirty cents if you want dinner tonight, too.

I do. Lydia fished around in her handbag for her coin purse, then handed over what she owed.

Mrs. Harrison walked to the door. Dinner’s at seven. Bathing room’s down the hall. You want me to heat you some water for a bath?

That would be a blessing.

Mrs. Harrison nodded, pleased. I’ll let you know when it’s ready. Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Lydia dropped tiredly onto the bed. It had been a long, long day. Had she the strength, she would have just gone on to her small hometown of Sumpter, but she couldn’t see traveling another thirty miles, not tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Christmas was in a little over a week, and for the first time in four years she’d be spending the holy time with her mother, Miriam. Lydia was the headmistress of a private school for young women of color, and she was usually obliged to spend the holidays at school in order to chaperone the two or three young women without families or to cheer up the girls with parents who were traveling or too busy to include them in their lives. This year, however, she had made arrangements far in advance for a few of the local families to take in the girls needing sheltering. Miriam had recently broken her ankle. Her letters assured Lydia that it was nothing serious, but Lydia needed to see that with her own eyes. She and her mother had been through a lot over the years, and Lydia wanted Miriam to remain a force in her life for as long as the Good Lord was willing. Lydia had also come home to lick her wounds. Her engagement to Burton Shaw had ended abruptly six months ago and she hoped this short visit home would revive her lagging spirits.

Lydia undid the ribbon tie at the throat of her cloak and set the damp garment over the back of the lone chair. Her first order of business would be to start a fire in the grate. The December chill had invaded the room. Blowing on her cold hands, Lydia grabbed two logs from the box beside the fireplace and set them inside. A few strikes of the matches started a small blaze. It began to lick its way over the wood, and soon the flames grew in strength. Satisfied, she went to her trunks to unpack some clean clothes for dinner.

Once Lydia had her bath, her world seemed brighter. She donned a fresh high-collared brown dress, brushed her hair and redid her bun, then went downstairs to see about the meal. She had no idea if there were other boarders about but assumed that if there were, they’d all be dining together, as was customary in such establishments.

She was just about to enter the small dining room when the sight of the tall dark-skinned man standing near the table talking with Mrs. Harrison froze Lydia in place. For a moment the shock of seeing Grayson Dane again after so many years was so overwhelming, her knees went weak.

What is he doing here?

Although she hadn’t seen him in fifteen years, there was no mistaking him. The fabled good looks had aged like a statue—gracefully, majestically. He had a mustache now, something he hadn’t had when she knew him before, and it added a dangerous edge to his chiseled features. The fit of the well-tailored dark suit showed him to be a bit thicker through the chest and shoulders than he’d been as a youth, but because of his height it made him appear even more commanding. Memories of her love for him rushed back with such sweet pain, she lost herself in its eddies for a moment. Lydia knew the wisest course would be to beat a hasty retreat back to her room before he noticed her, but the thought came too late; he’d turned her way.

Gray Dane stared at the woman in the brown dress standing in the doorway, and her familiar face caused his eyes to widen with shock. Lydia? His breath caught in his chest and his hands began to shake. Lydia Cooper? My God! Where did she come from?

A thousand questions shouted in his mind at once, but he was so stunned by the sight of her, he couldn’t form words.

Mrs. Harrison beckoned Lydia into the room, then said to Gray, Mr. Dane, this is the young woman I spoke to you about.

Still unable to believe what he was seeing, Gray said to Mrs. Harrison, The lady and I are acquainted. How could she be here? Forcing himself to calm down, Gray managed to say evenly, It’s been a long time, Lydia. How are you?

Lydia met his familiar dark eyes, and bittersweet memories rose from her heart. I’m doing well, Gray. And yourself?

For Gray, seeing her again was like finding water after a trek through the drought-stricken Texas badlands. I’m well.

Lydia understood his surprise all too well; she, too, had been caught off guard by seeing him here. This was a decidedly awkward meeting, to say the least. Because of their shared past, she once again wanted to turn and hightail it back to her room; however, she reminded herself that she was no longer sixteen and in love with him. She could handle this.

Mrs.

Reviews for Homecoming

[Tosha · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a Great Read. I feel silly I hadn't read it sooner. Never been a Christmas romance fan so I underrated it.