Chauncey watched as she finished her task in the kitchen and then went over to the door togatherher cloak. Hestoodand began toshrug onhis bearskin coat. She glanced over at him curiously. “You don’t need to escort me, Mr. Cade, if that is your intention.”
He winced. She was as prickly as a cactus now. “I have some things to attend to myself,” he returned vaguely, hoping that she didn’t question him further or else he’d have to fabricate some sort of catastrophe that needed his immediate attention.
Fortunately, she merely concentrated on her task and headed outside.
Chauncey was careful to follow her, although he made it appear as though he wasn’t anxious to see her reaction. He looked up through the canopy of pine trees and saw that the clouds were still heavy with the threat of more snow. He could almost scent it upon the air; feel the cold seeping into his bones.
Then again, the gray dawn was perfect when it came to showcasing the brilliance of the light shining through the glass of the hothouse.
He could sense the confusion in the way Elise drew closer, and when she opened the door where they were flooded with the brilliance of several lit candles placed about the interior, he heard her gasp as she placed a hand over her heart. Chauncey had also gone even further to clear a space for a small tabletopChristmastree that he’d decorated with various scraps of cloth tied into bows on the branches, bits of extra material that he’d procured from his time doing the mending.
Beneath the treewas a single gift wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with twine that he’dbeen lucky enough to find in the root cellar when he’d cleaned everything up from the deserters’visit.
She turned to where he remained leaning casually in the doorway, although it struck him in the gut when he saw tears glistening in her gaze. “Is this what you were doing this morning?”
He nodded.
Elise stared at him, as if trying to find the appropriate words. “I haven’t had a Christmas tree since—” She broke off, but he knew what she’d been about to say.
“Neither have I,” he admitted quietly. He moved forward and gestured to the small tree. “But this isn’t exactly a Christmas tree, is it? It’s abirthdaytree.”
“A birthday tree?” she echoed with a laugh. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Haven’t you?” He lifted a brow and said, “Maybe it’s just Canadian folklore, but my mother believed that each child’s spirit could be traced to a certain tree, depending on when they were born.”
Elise tilted her head to the side. “Like the constellations?”
“Something like that.”He smiled. “Since your birthday falls on the winter solstice, youare a kindred spirit with thefirtree.”
She grinned in return. “So what does that mean?”
“That you’re mysterious.”
She laughed,and his blood warmed at the feminine sound. “What about you?”
“I’m acedar tree.Strong and resilent.”
Her blue eyes warmed significantly. “That you are.”
They regarded one another for a moment, the temperature in the hothouse rising with every moment as the sweet scents of the various blooms around them caused the air to sizzle with awareness.
He stepped around her and took the paper wrapped gift from under the tree and handed it to her. “Happy birthday, Elise.”
***
Elise took the small package from him, inhaling sharply when their fingers brushed. But she quickly focused on the item in her grasp. She couldn’t imagine what he might have given her, but instead of allowing her own curiosity to claw at her, she removed the twine and pushed aside the paper to reveal a small wooden box with a pearl inlay design of a dove.
“It’s lovely,” she breathed, touched by such a magnificent and thoughtful gesture.
“Open it,” Mr. Cade instructed.
She frowned, thinking that the box would have been perfect enough, but when she lifted the lid, she gaspedupon the discovery ofa small mechanism inside that immediately started to play a familiar melody, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. She had heard Grannie play it at the hotel during the supper hour when she entertained her guests. It had always been her favorite.
She was touched as she whispered, “This is…amazing, Chauncey. Thank you.” After a moment where he was silent, she glanced up to see him looking at her rather oddly. “What is it?”
He shook his head, as if he was trying to come out of some sort of trance. “That was the first time you’vecalled me by my first name.”
“It was?” Elise couldn’t really remember. She always tried to stick to the proprieties around him, but she always thought of him as Chauncey.At least, she had in private.
