Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
H olt couldn’t believe what he’d just seen— what the man who might be his father had accomplished. “All that took was a quick gesture to a friendly dog,” he said.
“And weeks of training beforehand,” Doc Coates answered with a smile, turning to meet Holt’s gaze. “To protect the man, of course, but also the dog if the man failed to respond and threatened him.”
Chauncey looked up in adoration, tongue lolling, and panting with excitement. “You did a good job, boy,” the Doc said, crouching down to hug the dog. “You saved a life tonight.” He spent a few moments there, continuing to pet the dog, then stood.
Other people approached then, voicing their amazement and congratulations. Holt’s heart swelled with pride. Whether this man was his father or not, he was glad to know him.
Once the crowd around them and Chauncey thinned and drifted back to the Christmas-themed events, Caitlin caught Holt’s gaze, her expression uncertain.
Was this still the right time to share the report he’d received and answer the question of his parentage? He wanted to know, but after what they’d just witnessed, would a negative result be too much of a disappointment? Also for the man who might be his father? Given what he had just achieved and Coates’ calm response to the event and the accolades from the village that followed it, Holt was certain Doc Coates would be able to handle anything. Holt nodded.
Caitlin took and breath and spoke up. “Did you get a lab report yet?”
Doc Coates turned his gaze back to Holt and held it for a moment. “I did. You did, as well?”
Holt nodded, the euphoria of the recent excitement fading. “Haven’t opened it yet.”
“Nor have I.” Doc pulled an envelope out of an inside pocket and proffered it.
Holt traded it for the one that had come to him. “This seems as good a time and place as any…” Christmas lights, Caitlin by his side, and a life just saved all seemed good omens. He feared the hope that was blooming in his chest. No, he didn’t fear the hope. He feared losing it if the reports didn’t— no, he wouldn’t think that way.
When Doc Coates nodded, Holt ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single folded sheet of paper.
Doc did the same, eyed him, and opened the form.
With a glance aside at Caitlin, Holt unfolded his. He didn’t look at the report right away. Caitlin’s expression captured his attention. Her eyes were shining, and she smiled encouragement at him. He nodded and looked down but couldn’t focus on the writing. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. It was hopeless. He was too wound up. Everything appeared watery. Instead of fighting it, he handed her the paper. “Read it, please. I can’t.”
Doc Coates also passed the report he held to her. “Please.”
Caitlin’s eyes closed for a moment, as if weighing the responsibility of delivering the results she knew meant so much to both men. Then she looked down at the papers in her hands.
Holt watched as Caitlin studied first one form, then the other, her eyes growing wider as she read. Then she pressed both sheets to her chest and looked up, first at Doc Coates, then at Holt, and cleared her throat.
“Both forms confirm a familial match. Holt’s DNA is a fifty percent match to yours, Doc,” she said, favoring him with a smile. “The rest,” she said, turning back to Holt, “must be your mother’s. You’ve found your father, Holt! Merry Christmas.” She stepped forward and hugged him.
Knees suddenly weak, Holt wanted to hang on, grateful for Caitlin’s support. But she pulled away, turned and gave his father a hug. His father. The words sounded strangely alien in his mind.
When Caitlin stepped back, she shifted her gaze to Holt and tilted her head. Her message couldn’t be any more clear.
He did as she suggested and stepped toward his father, hand extended, but the vet pulled him into a hug. Chauncey gave a warning yip, but they ignored him.
“I can’t believe this is real,” Coates said. “But I’m glad it is.” He pounded on Holt’s back for a moment, then let him go.
Holt cleared his throat, wishing there was some way he could wipe the dampness from his eyes without looking like a total wuss. “I never expected to have a father in my life. I’m glad he turned out to be you. I’m really proud of what you did here tonight.” He reached down and patted Chauncey’s head. “What you do every day. I was going to tell you, no matter how those turned out,” Holt said and tipped his head toward the lab reports Caitlin still held, “that I want to help.”
Coates met his gaze. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say, except that I’m glad, too. More than I ever imagined I could be. Look what you’ve made of yourself, despite the rough start you had thanks to Jenny’s aunt. I couldn’t be more proud if I’d raised you myself.” Then he turned to Caitlin. “And you, my Scottish friend, I wonder if all this would have happened if you hadn’t been mugged your first day in the village…”
“And ye hadna come to my rescue,” Caitlin answered, her thicker accent and the gravel in her voice revealing how choked up she was by the revelations. “We wouldna kenned what could ha’ been, and that would ha’ been a tragedy.” A tear tracked down her cheek, then another, and another, where they met the corners of her smile.
“But it wasn’t,” Holt interjected, feeling giddy bubbles fizzing through his bloodstream. Was this happiness? If so, he had missed a lot in his life. “You weren’t hurt that day, and you made a friend who turned out to be important in my life. Both our lives. Even more, you stuck by your guns when I didn’t believe in you or your wild theories. You were right all along. I’m glad you didn’t let me push you around.”
“I’m a Scot. We don’t push very easily,” Caitlin told him, her smile turning into a grin.
His father laughed at that. “Holt, I think you’ve met your match.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open, but a warm sense of rightness filled Holt with those words. His father was right. He had met his match. He’d known for days and had begun the conversation about their future together before the outcry by the Christmas tree broke the spell. He had more to do to convince Caitlin, but he never doubted for a moment that he would succeed.
* * *
C hristmas day arrived with unfinished business between Holt and Caitlin. He entered his great-aunt’s closet with more than a little trepidation, but he was on a mission, one he’d nearly left until too late. In her jewelry box, he hoped to find a ring he could give Caitlin. Something important enough to show her how much she meant to him, but not so gaudy that she might not like it. If nothing else, a placeholder until she could select a ring herself. If she said yes.
The box’s small brass lock plate was locked, but he had the keyring he’d found hidden in a drawer, the same one that held the key they’d used to unlock the trunk in the attic— and a host of family secrets. This lock opened easily, proof that his great-aunt had used it often. He lifted the lid.
Ornate gemstone earrings and a string of pearls filled the top drawer. The next drawer held marcasite jewelry, very old-fashioned. No. Nothing interested him until he opened the third drawer. Pay dirt! Rings filled it. The diamonds needed to be cleaned. He couldn’t judge their quality, but their cut was also old-fashioned. A sapphire encrusted band caught his eye, but right under it, he found a small yellow silk drawstring bag. He opened it carefully and spilled the contents into his palm. A large, clear, deep green, emerald-cut emerald set in yellow gold winked green and gold at him. He studied it, looking for flaws and found none. Perfect. He dropped it back into its protective bag and locked the box, but he wondered that she kept valuable jewelry in the house like this and not in a safe. The house was isolated, but that didn’t guarantee anything.
Now to finish his preparations. He gave the ring to Mrs. Smith, then he went in search of Caitlin.
Weeks ago, when he found out about his inheritance, all he’d felt was dread. He had never dreamed he could be as happy as Caitlin made him. Knowing she cared about him— not his wealth— meant everything. She had done her best to make his life better— often despite him.
He found her in the office, puttering with the catalog of his great-aunt’s belongings. “I thought you’d finished that,” he told her. “It’s Christmas, not a day to work.”
She pointed at the screen and shrugged. “I can never leave well enough alone. I thought of a more appealing way to describe some of the furniture, so here I am. What are you up to?”
He glanced out the window in time to see Mrs. Smith walking back toward the house. Holt gave Caitlin his best innocent, I’m not up to anything look. “Grab your coat and come with me?”
“Sure. Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Caitlin closed her laptop and left the room, giving him a quizzical glance as she passed him by and stepped out of the office door. He’d left his jacket in the foyer in case he talked her into going out with him. By the time he donned his, she was back, buttoning up her coat as she approached. “Okay, I’ve wearing my coat. Now, where are we going?”
“Come with me.” Earlier, Holt had realized the perfect place to pop the question. He led Caitlin to the old gazebo, where Mrs. Smith had set up a table draped with a white cloth and covered with a tea service, a thermos, small cakes, and other sweets. Holt didn’t expect they’d enjoy any of it but figured it was good camouflage.
“It’s still a bit chilly out here for tea, don’t you think?”
“Really? A hardy Scot concerned about the cold?” He gave her a disarming grin. When she rolled her eyes, he added, “I thought some hot tea would be just the thing to warm our first Christmas together while we enjoyed the day.”
“Um, okay.” Caitlin set about pouring tea. “You take yours black, aye?”
“And you take yours with milk and an ungodly amount of sugar, yes,” Holt replied with a grin. “Don’t forget a sweet or two.”
“Ha! Ye ken my weakness,” Caitlin answered, chuckling. Then she froze, tongs held a few inches above the serving plate. “Wait. What’s this?” She looked up at Holt, brow furrowed.
He knew exactly what she’d found in the middle of the tea cakes. He dropped to one knee and held out a hand. “That, my love, is a ring. A complete circle, a symbol of my infinitely deep feelings for you. And the emerald symbolizes new beginnings, growth, and love. Forever love. I want you in my life forever, Caitlin. Will you marry me?”
She picked up the ring and held it out to him.
Holt’s heart plummeted, fearing that she was about to refuse him.
“I’ve never seen an emerald this big, Holt. I’m no’ used to your world. Your wealth.” She paused and swallowed. “Are ye sure I’m the lass for ye?”
“As sure as I’ve ever been of anything, Caitlin. Say yes. Please say yes. If you don’t like that ring, you can pick out another one you do like. Or one for each finger.”
She made him wait. He wasn’t surprised, just fearful. His chest felt too tight for his heart to have room to beat, his muscles locked so hard, holding him in place on one knee, that he thought he might start to shake. She wasn’t going to make anything easy for him, but he loved that about her. She was her own woman, used to making her own decisions. While she thought, she glanced from him to the ring to him several times, and Holt held his breath.
“’Tis a beauty, and I love it. But I love ye more, Holt Ridley. Yes! Aye, I’ll marry ye.”
He rose to meet her as she fell into his arms. “I’ve never been so happy,” he whispered to her. “I don’t know how.”
“But you’ll enjoy learning,” Caitlin told him. “I’ll teach you. I promise you that.”
* * *
C hristmas night arrived, and Caitlin had to wrap tape around the shank of the emerald ring to make it fit her finger. Holt promised they’d get it sized in town the next day. In the meantime, she refused to go without it.
Tonight, they would host their first Christmas dinner celebration. The first of many, she hoped, though not for any concern about the Ridley family curse. The apothecary chest was safely stored at Cairn Dubh in the Highlands where it belonged. Instead, she hoped for years of happiness with Holt, his father and their friends as well as with her family in Scotland. She looked forward to many celebrations, large and small, public and intimate, and most especially, with the children she hoped they would make together, the family Holt never believed he would have.
While Holt conferred with Farrell, she looked around her, struggling to take in the changes a few event-filled weeks had wrought. The house was decorated beautifully. Mrs. Smith had worked her magic in the kitchen, and Caitlin and Holt had worked all day with Farrell to expand the festive holiday mood in the house that they’d first created with the Christmas trees. Now wreaths and roping adorned with lights and colorful balls draped doorways and mantels. Smaller ornaments and other seasonal decorations enhanced occasional tables beside chairs and in front of couches. The dinner table was set for a feast and decorated with candles, greenery and more colorful glass balls. Their guests would arrive soon. She couldn’t wait.
Holt’s father arrived first. Holt took him aside after Caitlin greeted him and left them to their reunion. Tears filled her eyes to see them with their heads together, deep in conversation. They finally had the family neither thought to ever have. She didn’t know what Holt wanted to discuss with him, but both had a glint of tears in their eyes, though being manly, they refused to shed them. Whatever it was, it clearly meant something important to both of them. She was thrilled to have helped bring Holt a happy resolution to the misery of his childhood and the sorry history of his family.
Their friends began to arrive soon after. Alice looked wonderful in her Christmas finery. This was the first time Caitlin could recall having seen her out of her white baker’s jacket and her red dress fit her like a dream. She caught Holt’s father studying Alice as Holt introduced them and fought a grin. Apparently, he liked the way she looked, as well. Rachel was there, too. She had mentioned to Caitlin that Doc Coates had sent her to Alice’s bakery several times for more chocolate croissants, but from the way his gaze followed Alice now, she would bet he hadn’t yet gone there himself and was regretting it. Caitlin suspected after tonight, he would become a regular customer. And perhaps more.
The next to arrive were high school friends of Holt’s, Jack and Anita from Holt’s favorite pizza parlor. That declaration earned Holt a laugh. The lawyer and estate’s executor, Mr. Thornton, evened out the number for the dinner table. Caitlin was especially pleased to see him. His presence was a measure of how Holt’s attitude had changed about the estate and everything in it.
“Now that everyone is here,” Holt said as Farrell passed out glasses of champagne, then returned to the kitchen. “I’d like to make a Christmas toast.” He raised his glass. “To family,” he said with a nod to his newfound father. “To friends,” he added with a smile for everyone else, “and to a wonderful Christmas for us all. I don’t know how to express how much it means to me to have you all here.”
Caitlin didn’t know if it was apparent to anyone else, but she’d heard the catch in Holt’s voice before he lifted his glass.
“Hear! Hear!” Jack said as everyone raised their glass in response, then drank.
Perhaps his friend Jack knew him well enough to have noticed it. Caitlin gave him a smile of thanks for diverting attention for the moment Holt needed to collect himself.
“Dinner is served,” Farrell eventually announced in his best butler imitation.
Everyone filed into the dining room and took their seats. Caitlin had made place cards and seated Alice across from Holt’s father to make conversation— or longing looks— easier for them. If they got to know each other, there might be another Christmas miracle.
Holt waited until everyone got settled, then addressed the table. “I have a few announcements to make before we eat.” He held out a hand for Caitlin.
She took his and rose, embarrassed, yet excited, knowing what he planned to say next.
“The first, in case you haven’t noticed,” he said, holding up her hand and turning it so the ring was visible to all, “is that Caitlin Paterson has agreed to become my wife.”
Whoops, cheers, and clapping greeted that announcement. Caitlin felt herself blush, heat rising from her chest to her cheeks as Holt pulled her to him and kissed her.
When their guests quieted down, and she had a chance to catch her breath, he added, “I’ve also made a decision about this estate that affects you all, and one I hope you will approve.”
Caitlin froze. He hadn’t told her about this. Why not? Had he found a local buyer? Nay, she didn’t think that was it. If he hoped they’d approve, he must not plan to sell it.
Holt’s steady gaze soothed Caitlin’s fears. He would have warned her if he knew she’d be upset. She took a breath and nodded.
He looked around the table. “I’m not going to sell the estate.” He paused to let everyone breathe a sigh of relief, then a smile lit his face. “I’m going to turn it over to Doc Coates to create the canine rescue and training facility that is my father’s dream. Mrs. Smith and Farrell will stay on, of course, to help my father manage the estate.”
Caitlin noticed Mr. Thornton nod and realized Holt had cleared this with him ahead of time, as executor of the estate and person in charge of dealing with the mountain of paperwork such an endeavor would likely require. She had every confidence Thornton could handle it.
“What do you mean, your father?” Alice asked, looking at Coates, who gave her a quirk of his lips.
“That’s my third happy announcement. Due almost entirely to Caitlin’s dogged persistence, and nothing could be more appropriate than that term,” he added and favored her with a grin, “Jim Coates and I have discovered— and proven via DNA tests— that he is the father I never knew. And I am the son he never knew he had.” He raised a hand to silence the gasps and clapping that greeted his announcement. “It’s a long story that we’ll share after dinner. After all her hard work, I don’t want to keep Mrs. Smith’s wonderful meal waiting.”
Mrs. Smith and Farrell brought out the soup course, then salad, and so on, until no one could eat another bite. Holt stood and called for the chef. When she appeared, he announced. “Thank you, Mrs. Smith. You’ve outdone yourself. Farrell, too,” Holt added with a nod to the man standing behind Mrs. Smith. “Without both of you, this estate would have fallen to ruin years ago. I’m glad you both are staying on. I trust you will enjoy working with my father and his team for many years.”
The lady in question dimpled and quit the room to applause, Farrell, with a pleased nod, followed her out.
“Let’s adjourn to the front room for dessert and drinks,” Holt invited.
Caitlin was pleased to see Holt’s father move quickly to take Alice’s arm and escort her from the table. Her plan seemed to be working. In the front room, she took Holt aside for a moment. “I love what you’re doing with the estate. Doc Coates will make good use of it. And how wonderful that Farrell and Mrs. Smith will be able to stay on and take care of it. I’m so glad everything has worked out so well.”
“Everything has worked out perfectly,” he told her. “Especially you.” He lifted her hand and ran his thumb over the emerald ring. “I just hope you’re not planning on a long engagement,” he told her with a wicked grin.
“Nay, I’m not. But let’s talk about that later. Our guests are watching us.”
Holt kissed her. “Let them watch,” he said, then wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again.
Caitlin ignored the laughter and clapping, lost in the feel of Holt’s lips on hers. When he broke the kiss, she pulled him down for another, then stepped out of his arms and turned to their guests. And family. “We’re so happy you’re here. Holt will pour whatever you’d like, then we’ll tell all.”
Doc Coates was grinning, but not at her. His gaze was on Alice, who shared a small settee with him. Alice was laughing, then her expression sobered to a quizzical smile as he picked up her hand.
Caitlin glanced at Holt to see if he noticed. His smile told her he had. Well, then, two Christmas miracles, coming right up. With dessert, she thought, as Mrs. Smith wheeled in a cart loaded with bite-sized sweets and slim bottles of dessert wines. Could this evening get any better?
Later, after Caitlin overheard Doc Coates and Alice making a date for the next evening, their guests— and family— departed. Holt took Caitlin in his arms. “What a Christmas for miracles. I feel like the three magi dropped by and each left a wonderful surprise, you being the best of all.”
“Not finding your father?”
“As pleased as I am about that, to borrow another reference from literature, he is…well, not the ghost of my past, but he is my past. Tonight is our present, and you, my lovely Caitlin, are my future.”