Scandal on Rincon Hill (45 page)

“Oh, Samuel,” said Mama, looking pleased. “Are you really?”

Papa eyed Samuel speculatively, then shook his head in resignation. “All right, son, you win. It seems we're to have a writer in the family whether we care to have one or not.”

“Look at it this way,” said Samuel, a smile of obvious relief lighting his handsome face. “We already have a judge, a lawyer, a state senator, and a doctor. Why not a writer? Just to balance things out in the family.”

T
hank you for coming to Samuel's defense earlier, Robert,” I said, walking him to the door.

It was nearing ten o'clock, and the night had turned cold, yet I felt an agreeable warmth remembering the brave way Robert had stood up to a state senator and a superior court judge. What the gruff Scot lacked in social niceties, he more than made up for in staunch loyalty to his friends.

Standing in the open door, he turned up his coat collar and donned his hat. “Samuel is a fine writer. I thought your father should know.”

“As well as Frederick,” I said, smiling. “Did you see his face when you told him Samuel was the most respected reporter in town? You were wonderful.”

Although the foyer was dimly lit, I thought I saw him flush at this praise. “Samuel looks as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders.”

“He's been dreading this day for five years. I'm grateful you were here to help support him. And I think my mother is secretly pleased. She did a bit of writing herself in her younger years.”

“She did? That must be where Samuel gets his talent.”

He seemed about to say something else, then looked up above my head. With a broad smile, he leaned down and kissed me.

“The mistletoe,” he said when I regarded him in surprise. “There's some hanging above the door. You must have forgotten to take it down after the Christmas party.”

“Oh,” I said, following his gaze. “It's an old Norse tradition, you know. Someone told me that it's bad luck to ignore the custom.”

“Really,” he said with a smile. “Well, then, I think it's a good idea to try it again, don't you? Just in case we didn't get it quite right the first time.”

I returned his smile. “Yes, the Norse are usually very accurate about this sort of thing.”

And standing on my tiptoes, I reached up and kissed him.

Just in case.