Home for the Holidays (2 page)

“You know, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you,” Alice sang as she brought the fresh evergreen branches in from the garden.

“We can’t go riding, we have no sleigh,” Jane said as she took a tray of tiny round cream-colored wafers from the oven. A rich, buttery scent filled the air as she set the cookies to cool on a rack.

Alice put the branches in the sink. “Okay, how about a snowball fight?”

“Tempting, and I would probably win, but no time for that either.” Jane put her hands on her hips and surveyed the cooling racks. “I must bake. After I bake, I must wrap.”

“Aren’t you the ambitious one lately?”

“It’s what I get for loving good food and my two wonderful sisters.” She pretended to think for a moment. “No, I must shop first,
then
I must wrap.”

“Goodness, don’t be all work and no play,” Alice teased as she brushed some snow clinging to the branches into the sink. “You don’t want to end up being a dull girl, too, do you?”

“I’ll be lazy and interesting after New Year’s. Hey, you.” Jane scooped up Wendell, the family tabby cat, as he jumped up onto the counter. “Now I know the smell of the cream is making you crazy, but these are really too rich for kitties. They’ll give you an upset stomach.”

Wendell meowed plaintively and butted his striped head into her chin, as if trying to convince her that he was more than up to the challenge.

“Trust me, I have something better.” Jane retrieved a small can of shrimp-flavored feline treats from the cupboard and shook out a few on the floor. Wendell made a magnificent leap from her arms and fell on the treats, which he immediately started to devour.

“Have I earned a treat?” Alice asked as she leaned over
to peer into a small mixing bowl of green-tinted filling and then inspected the quarter-sized cookies. “Oh, how pretty. What are these, exactly?”

“I haven’t thought up a name for them yet.” Jane picked up one of the wafers that had cooled, added a dollop of filling and sandwiched it with another before she offered it to Alice. “Try one. I need some suggestions.”

A test nibble revealed that the cookies were actually rounds of thin, flaky pastry lightly dusted on the outside with granulated sugar. The creamy middle added the perfect touch of richness.

Alice closed her eyes to savor the taste of Jane’s pastry creation. “
Mmm
.”

“No mummy sounds.” Jane pretended to look severe. “Besides, you
mmm
about everything I make.”

“That’s because I always want
mmm
more.” Alice reached for another and then took a moment to study it. “They taste scrumptious, and they’re so pretty and delicate too. I’ve never seen Christmas cookies like these.”

“Well, I just invented them.” Jane regarded the fruit of her labors and tried out some names. “Delicate Divines. Divine Delicates. Double Delicate Divinities.” She sighed. “No, that’s not going to work. ‘Divinity’ has already been used for candy.”

Alice laughed. “Whatever you decide to call them, I think
you’re
divine for making them.” She ate the second
cookie and sighed. “You’d better hide them, though, or I won’t be responsible for how many I gobble up. They’re so light they’d tempt the angels.”

“Angel light cookies, that’s perfect.” Jane took a pen and wrote the name down on her recipe notebook. “You’re a genius.”

“You don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll be your name tester, anytime.” Alice looked over as the door to the kitchen swung open. “Louise, you should be trying out Jane’s new cookies.”

“I could smell them baking, but I was preoccupied with checking out the last of our guests.” Louise examined the counters, which were filled with racks of the cooling rounds. “Very nice, Jane. The perfect size for afternoon tea.”

“Flattery gets you a cookie.” Jane fixed another angellight cookie and presented it to her with a flourish.

“Thank you, dear.” Louise turned to Alice. “Are you finished collecting your evergreens outside? If so, I would like to make an early start on our shopping expedition.”

The demands of running an inn year-round meant that the Howard sisters rarely had the opportunity to spend a day out together. In fact, they had not had an entire week off for themselves since transforming their childhood home into a bed and breakfast after the death of their father, Daniel. It was one of the reasons they had decided to reserve the time of Christmas exclusively for themselves.

“I’m just going to put these boughs in water so that they’ll stay fresh until tonight. They’re easier to work with that way,” Alice said, reaching into the cabinet under the sink for the bucket stored there. “Will someone remind me to pick up some floral wire from Wild Things while we’re in town? I need it for the wreath I’m planning to make.”

“I’ll add it to my list.” Louise glanced at the slim gold watch on her left wrist. “Fred Humbert said he would deliver our tree tomorrow afternoon, so we should also bring the decorations down from the attic today, if possible.”

“I think that tree we picked out is gorgeous,” Jane said as she began piling wafers into an airtight container. “I love Douglas firs. So, where are we going to set it up this year?”

“The one we chose is too tall for the study.” Louise considered the question for a moment. “There is no place in the parlor for it, either, unless we have Fred move the piano to one side.”

“If we move the piano, you won’t be able to play carols on Christmas Eve,” Jane said. “I love the tree and all, but we have to have your music, Louise.”

Her youngest sister’s compliment made her chuckle. “Flattery will get you all the Christmas carols your heart desires.”

“Since we won’t have any guests over the holiday, why don’t we put it up in the reception area?” Alice suggested as
she added water to the bucket. “I know I loved rushing downstairs on Christmas morning to see that Santa had delivered the tree.”

“Me too.” Jane chuckled. “Poor Father, he probably spent most of the night hauling it in from the shed and setting it up and decorating it, and still he always acted surprised to see it.”

“I think he was amazed that it had not fallen down,” Louise said, her voice dry. “No matter how hard he tried, Father never could get a tree to stand up straight.”

Jane laughed. “Come to think of it, they always did list a little to the left or right.”

“But he made the holidays special for us.” Alice felt a little pang of sorrow as she always did when she thought of Daniel Howard. “This Christmas I want to read Luke’s version of the birth of Jesus out loud, the same way he did after he tucked us in. I’d like to make some homemade bird feeders too. Father always liked to hang those to decorate the trees out front, and the poor little birds can always use the seed.”

“I have a bag of pinecones in the shed we can use.” Jane took the last pan from the oven before she turned it off, then left the door open so that the heat would escape and help warm the kitchen. “Better add peanut butter and wild bird seed to the list, Louise.”

“Good heavens, peanut butter and bird seed?” Aunt
Ethel said as she came into the kitchen. “What on earth are you mixing up now, Jane Howard?”

Daniel Howard’s sister lived in the carriage house right next to Grace Chapel Inn, and popped in frequently to check on her nieces and share the latest gossip from town. Although she had strong opinions that were sometimes at odds with those of the sisters, Ethel Buckley regularly brought humor and happiness into their lives.

Today Ethel had dressed in a bright green, cable-knit sweater and matching slacks, and she sported a festive, pointed, green knit hat pulled over her short red hair.

“It’s a classic recipe, Auntie Elf,” Jane teased.

An enormous white pompom on the tip of Ethel’s hat bobbed as she scanned her nieces’ faces. “Please tell me you’re not going to feed that muck to anyone.”

“We sure are. You spread peanut butter over a pinecone and roll it in bird seed.” Jane brought her fingers to her lips and kissed them. “It’s delectable stuff.”

“It is if you happen to have a beak and wings,” Louise tacked on. “They’re not for us, Aunt Ethel. They are bird feeders. We plan to hang them in our trees.”

“Thank goodness.” Ethel pressed a hand over her heart and then gave Jane a stern look. “I should make you give me the recipe for every single thing you feed me, anyway. Lord only knows what you put in that seafood gumbo you sent over last week.”

“Well, there were those raw squid tentacles …” Jane laughed with delight at her aunt’s wide eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Keep it up, Miss Smarty.” Ethel wagged her finger at her youngest niece. “You’re going to get a lump of coal in your stocking.” She regarded Alice and Louise. “So, how are you girls planning to spend your first day of vacation?”

“Today we’re going to do some shopping,” Alice told her. “We were so busy with guests last week that we never got to town.”

Jane hung up her potholders. “Why don’t you come with us? We’ll spend money and show off your hat around town.”

“I wish I could, dear, but I’m hosting a craft exchange at my house this morning. That’s why I’m here. Do you still have those lacquer trays that you sent to Daniel from San Francisco?” She looked around the kitchen. “I need to borrow four of them.”

“Sure.” Jane retrieved the small black trays, which were hand painted with bamboo and varied Oriental flowers. “What’s a craft exchange?”

“Some of the ladies from church get together and teach each other how to make a special holiday craft, like ornaments and such,” their aunt said. “Florence Simpson usually hosts it, but she’s gone until January. Carol Matthews is bringing her beads, which everyone loves, and the trays will keep them and the other small parts involved from rolling off the table.”

Ethel was the director of Grace Chapel’s church committees, and often volunteered to fill in as host for various meetings and study groups when their committee leaders were unavailable.

As their aunt tucked the trays into the tote bag she carried, she stopped and drew out something cylindrical wrapped in tissue paper.

“I almost forgot. I picked up a candle for your window while I was at a craft fair in Potterston. It’s handmade and scented.”

Alice unwrapped the candle, which was large, white, and beautifully decorated on the sides with holly leaves and berries made of red and green wax. The scent of peppermint from the candle mingled with the buttery fragrance of Jane’s cookies. “It’s lovely, Aunt Ethel.”

“You have to put it in the front window on Christmas Eve,” Ethel told them, “and keep it lit all night.”

Louise frowned at that. “I would rather not leave a burning candle untended, Aunt.”

“The woman at the craft show told me that it’s a tradition for innkeepers,” Ethel insisted. “She said that an inn owned by Christians keeps a candle burning in the window through Christmas Eve to light the way of the Holy Family, as well as to welcome guests. You girls know that you can’t turn away any traveler who comes here on Christmas Eve either.”

“I remember reading something about that,” Alice said. “It comes from an old German custom. You burn the candle all night and welcome any visitor, in case the Christ Child might come by.”

“We’re closed for business until after Christmas,” Jane reminded their aunt. “But we promise, on our honor as good Christian innkeepers, not to turn away any pregnant women being led around on donkeys.”

“Don’t make jokes about this, young lady,” Ethel said, obviously not amused. “There are always good reasons for following the old ways.”

The youngest Howard sister nodded gravely. “Like keeping all the Christmas candlemakers employed.”

Ethel’s stern mask cracked, and Alice laughed along with her aunt and sisters. She felt safe in the knowledge that no matter who came to the door on Christmas Eve, he would always find a warm welcome at Grace Chapel Inn.

Shopping in town was fun for the Howard sisters; it was a rare occasion that the three of them could do it together. They first went to the General Store to pick up some household items and found a jolly Santa collecting goods for the store’s annual community Christmas food baskets drive. For the sisters’ contribution to the cause, Santa gave
them each a candy-cane pin made of twisted red-and-white chenille strips to wear on their coats.

“Bless you, ladies,” said the jolly old elf, who was really the store manager in costume. “Santa couldn’t ask for better helpers.”

“Santa could put more chestnuts out in the produce section, though,” Jane said and winked.

The sisters took a leisurely stroll down Berry Lane, stopping now and then to look in windows or step inside to make a purchase in one of the shops.

Louise was particularly drawn to the sterling silver service and serving cart displayed in the front window of Time for Tea. Wilhelm Wood, the owner, had displayed ceramic versions of the many cakes and treats of a genuine English high tea, and had so many different varieties of boxed and tinned tea stacked on the cart that she sighed with delight. “Silver is so heavy and impractical,” she told her sisters, “but there is nothing quite as elegant.”

“Look at that crystal honey server.” Jane peered in. “What does he have in there, gold dust?”