The Holiday Bride

By Claire Sanders

Hildy Campbell's life is about to change. As a beautiful, single, and rich woman, she's been warned about fortune hunters and confidence men. But she never expected two men to vie for her hand.

Carson Forester is a devastatingly handsome Wall Street financier who comes to Brightfield with two proposals for Hildy - invest in his real estate development and unite her wealth with his in marriage. Carson is the perfect match for her. Isn't he?

Andrew Mason has secretly loved Hildy for five years. He's far from rich, and many say he's too young for her, but no one doubts he's a good man.

With her future in jeopardy, will Hildy let others' expectations decide her life?

Return to Brightfield, and enjoy this lighthearted, sweet romance about the youngest of the Mason brothers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claire Sanders
• Release date: Feb 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393749707

Book preview

Claire Sanders

The Holiday Bride

Copyright © 2020 Claire Sanders All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are the product of the author’s imagination and used

fictitiously.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of these copyrighted works is illegal. No part of these books may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means without the permission of Claire Sanders. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

For Travis, with love and gratitude.

CHAPTER ONE

Andrew Mason maneuvered the buckboard down Washington Avenue, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves matching the excited beat of his heart. He’d almost kissed his brother when George had given him instructions for work. The opportunity to be alone with Hildy Campbell was the answer to a prayer.

How lovely she was. Kindness shone from her hazel eyes, and her sweet smile beamed goodwill. Andrew had admired her from afar for years, often dreaming through the minister’s sermon as he watched Hildy during Sunday services. It would have been wrong to pray for Hildy to remain unmarried until Andrew was old enough to court her, but he wouldn’t have minded if heavenly intervention kept her available.

He’d shaved extra carefully that morning and had dressed in his tweed trousers and best white shirt. His mother had questioned his choice to wear a tie, but Andrew had only smiled. Even though George was sending him to paint, Andrew had coveralls to protect his best clothes.

Andrew slowed the horse as he neared the three-story Italianate Victorian mansion Hildy called home. A smile of joy blossomed on his lips when he saw her red and white Oldsmobile Limited in the semi-circular drive in front of her house. If her motorcar was there, she was home.

He guided the horse toward the back of the house. Hildy’s housekeeper stepped outside as soon as Andrew climbed down from the seat.

Hello there! the stout housekeeper called.

Andrew approached the back door. Good morning, Mrs. Hayes. Beautiful day, isn’t it?

Mrs. Hayes took a deep breath and let it out. Nothing’s better than the cool days of autumn. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it, and then comes the snow. She gestured toward a gray stone building. We still have the stable if you’d like to put your horse there.

Andrew considered the length of time he’d be working. That’s a kind offer. I’m sure he would enjoy some fresh water and a rest.

As the housekeeper returned to the house, Andrew unhitched the horse and led him toward the stable. What was Hildy doing at this time of day? Could he wander through her house, casually looking for her, without arousing the housekeeper’s suspicion? All he wanted was to see her, or better yet talk with her. He often fantasized of spending hours with her, doing nothing more than simply being near her.

Andrew retrieved a can of paint from the wagon and stepped through the back door. Hildy’s gray-haired cook was in the kitchen, peeling vegetables. Are you Andrew Mason? she asked in a gruff, no-nonsense voice.

Andrew removed his cap. Yes ma’am. Are you expecting me?

The slender cook pushed herself up from the table and carried the bowl of peeled vegetables to the sink. We are. You’ll be paintin’ the front hallway. Mind you don’t get that paint on anything ‘cept the walls. Go through that door, she said with a tilt of her head, walk straight, and you’ll see where your brother applied the fresh plaster.

She turned toward the sink, not waiting for Andrew’s reply. Andrew sauntered through the door and stopped to listen for voices. Nothing but silence. He crept through the dining room with its oversized rectangular table and twelve chairs and into a heavily furnished parlor.

No Hildy.

Footsteps on the main staircase alerted him of someone’s imminent arrival. He squeezed himself into the narrow space between a bookcase and the wall. Mrs. Hayes came downstairs with bed linens in her arms and disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen.

Andrew blew out the breath he’d been holding. The cook and the housekeeper were in the kitchen. But where was Hildy? Not daring to explore the second floor, he tiptoed across the wide hallway to investigate the other side of the house.

Across from the parlor he found a room filled with bookcases and leather-clad chairs. As he scanned the room, his heart leaped into his throat. The object of his search sat in a shaft of morning sunlight.

Wearing a white dress decorated with tiny yellow and orange flowers, HIldy looked like an autumnal angel. She sat at an oversized wooden desk, her attention riveted on the ledgers and correspondence stacked there. A small line appeared between her brows as she concentrated on her work.

Perhaps he should leave her, but when would he have such an opportunity again? Andrew cleared his throat, and Hildy’s small white dog jumped to its feet and ran toward him.

Hildy’s head rose. Hello there, Andrew. You certainly are early.

Andrew dropped to one knee and extended his hand. What a sweet little dog. What kind is it?

A Maltese. Snow, get off Andrew.

Andrew scooped the dog into his arms and stood. Don’t fuss at him. He just wants to play.

That’s the problem, Hildy said with her usual warm smile. He wants to play all the time. George told me you’d be by today.

Snow lavished dog-kisses on Andrew’s ear. I’m painting the front hall. Hope I won’t be a bother.

No bother, she said. I’ll be glad to have the repairs finished. She reached for her dog, shaking her head and smiling with incredulity. My goodness, Andrew. I believe Snow is besotted with you.

With my ear, at least. She was so close. He almost didn’t surrender the dog in an attempt to keep her near. Her scent, a mix of flowers and citrus, wafted toward him. How he wanted to nuzzle her neck until he found the source of that enticing perfume.

How’s your family? Hildy asked as she set the dog on the floor.

Andrew took a deep breath and let it out. This was not the time to indulge in one of his endless fantasies. Everyone is fine. Have you seen Benjamin and Abigail lately?

Not since Sunday. Why do you ask?

I told them I was coming to your house today, and Abigail suggested I invite you for dinner.

How kind of her to think of me. Have you and George finished their living quarters?

All done. I believe Abigail is hosting a dinner because she wants to show off her new home.

Hildy returned to her desk, the dog obediently following her. Well, can’t blame her for that. She and Benjamin have been married for...how long is it now?

Two months.

Is that all? I suppose it seems longer because they courted so long. What evening did Abigail have in mind?

Does Saturday suit you?

She lifted a small book from her desk and studied it. I have a meeting in Greenville on Saturday, but I should be free for dinner.

Great! I’ll let Abigail know. Andrew stepped toward the door but stopped. One more thing...

Hildy’s attention was centered on a stack of papers, but Andrew reached for his courage and barreled ahead. Will you allow me to escort you?

She lifted her gaze, bewilderment clearly etched on her face. Andrew swallowed hard during the seconds of silence that passed, his throat constricting in anticipation of her answer.

At last, Hildy smiled. If you’d like.

Andrew’s tension drained away. I’d like it very much. I’ll be here at six.

Six o’clock will be fine.

Andrew waited until he’d left her study before he allowed himself to dance a small jig. She’d said yes! After he convinced his sister to host a dinner, he’d be spending the entire evening with Hildy Campbell!

***

Hildy fell into her chair, her work forgotten and her thoughts frozen. Seeing an opportunity, her dog bounded into her lap. Oh Snow, she muttered, What was that about? Snow wagged his tail and smiled at her, and Hildy cuddled his warm body to her chest. From anyone else, an invitation to escort her to dinner would signal a romantic intention. But this was Andrew, the youngest son of her best friend.

After her parents’ deaths, Helen Mason had been the one true friend Hildy could count on. Week after week, month after month, it had been Helen who’d guided her, listened to her, and encouraged her. When the silence and loneliness of her home threatened to flatten Hildy, she’d always been welcomed in Helen’s hectic farmhouse. Andrew had been one of the many boys who ran in and out of Helen’s kitchen, a baseball glove in one hand and a sandwich in the other. She’d been twenty-two then, and Andrew a boy of fourteen.

But Andrew was no longer the adolescent who’d teased his twin sister and challenged his brothers. Abigail was married which meant Andrew was old enough to do the same. Still, assuming Andrew had designs on her was ridiculous. She would be thirty years old at the end of the year, and only fortune hunters romanced older women.

If things were different, she would be flattered by his attention. She’d secretly admired his tall, athletic build while watching him on the baseball diamond. He moved with masculine grace, confident in every outlandish maneuver he executed with seeming ease. She’d never danced with Andrew, but surely it would be divine to have his arms around her, her head resting on his shoulder while they moved to the music.

No, no, no! she said, getting to her feet so quickly the dog fell onto the rug. Oh! Hildy squatted and reached for her pet. I’m sorry.

Snow shook himself and gave her a censorious look.

Hildy cradled her dog in her arms and headed toward the doorway. Perhaps you should stay in the kitchen for the time being, she whispered into Snow’s furry head.

She paused in the hallway, listening to the jaunty tune Andrew whistled. He and his brother often worked in her house – there was always something to be repaired or remodeled – and this morning was no different than any other. Andrew had simply relayed an invitation from his sister. No doubt he had offered to escort her out of pity. But she would neither surrender to self-pity nor jump to preposterous conclusions.

She was Hildy Campbell, the only child of the richest man in town.

She wasn’t old, but she was too old to be courted by Andrew.

On Saturday evening, she would share dinner with her friends, and that was all there was to it.

***

You want me to do what?

Andrew held out both palms as if trying to soothe his sister’s ruffled feathers. It’s just one dinner, Abigail. Don’t you fix dinner for Benjamin anyway?

Abigail finished wiping the kitchen counter and hung the damp dishcloth from a hook. Cooking dinner for Benjamin is a lot different than entertaining a guest, you blockhead.

He held out clasped hands. Please, Abigail. I’m begging you. I know I should have asked you first, but there wasn’t time.

Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the ice box. I can’t imagine why you’re asking me to do this, unless it means you’ve decided to let Hildy know how you feel about her.

Andrew’s face warmed with embarrassment. He’d kept his love for Hildy a secret, but of course his twin sister had figured it out. Did Benjamin tell you?

He didn’t have to. After you and he almost came to blows at last summer’s church social, your feelings were obvious.

Maybe to you and Benjamin, but Hildy doesn’t suspect. Now that I’m twenty-one, I’m old enough to call on her. Bringing her here would be a way to ease her into the idea.

Abigail retrieved a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and took a sip. Andrew watched her the way a dog watches the butcher. If she displayed the smallest sign of agreeing to his request, he’d pounce on it.

Abigail placed the glass in the sink. What are you willing to do for me in return?

Anything. Do you still want extra shelves in the pantry? What about a garden? Winter’s almost here, but I won’t forget when it’s spring.

Abigail pursed her lips and gazed at the ceiling. How many jobs is one dinner worth? I mean, is it pantry shelves only or are you offering carte blanche?

Andrew narrowed his eyes. His twin sister was teasing him. As usual. You think you’re so funny. I ask you for one little favor, and you try to take advantage of me.

Can’t blame a girl for trying, she said with a wide smile. Now, about that pantry...

Andrew clasped her arm to stop her from walking away. Hold on. Are you going to let me bring Hildy to dinner on Saturday?

Abigail pulled free and opened the pantry door. I don’t really mind having Hildy share dinner with us, but I don’t want to be in the middle of your love life.

Andrew hurried to reassure her. I’ll take it from here. I just needed a way to ...to...

To introduce the idea to her? his sister asked.

Yes. Exactly. Andrew gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Thanks a million, Abigail. I owe you one. He fixed his cap on his head and hurried toward the back door.

What about the shelves? his sister called after him.

CHAPTER TWO

Hildy shifted her automobile into fourth gear and depressed the accelerator. She loved to drive. Especially fast. The road from Brightfield to Greenville was smooth enough for her to push the Oldsmobile to its top speed. How thrilling it was to be able to control that much power. Hildy tipped back her head and let the wind buffet her face.