A Christmas Dream by Shanna Hatfield

Another thirty minutes passed, during which time Brant envisioned thick slices of smoky ham encased between fluffy biscuits hot from the oven as he worked. He was just about to suggest to Remington they take a break for the noon meal when a woman as pretty as any Brant had ever encountered breezed into the room carrying a large basket covered with a blue-checkered cloth.

“Denver! I thought I’d never find you in this colossus of a house. I saw Colin outside, and he said you were in the library, but so much has changed since the last time I was in here, I thought I might wander around lost until you starved to death.” The woman’s gaze shifted from the carpenter on the second floor, taking in Brant and Remington as they hastily stood. “Oh, hello.”

Denver scrambled down the ladder where he’d been working on the trim at the top of a bookcase. Brant was surprised he didn’t fall and break his neck the way he skipped the last four rungs, using just his hands on the sides of the ladder to slide to the floor. It was a trick Brant intended to have Denver teach him another day.

“Holland, I didn’t know you were coming today. I would have met you outside.” Denver glanced nervously from the young woman to Brant, and then back to the fetching female as he raced down the spiral staircase.

The woman shrugged. “We wanted to surprise you.”

Did Denver have a wife and children awaiting him at home in Silver Bluff? In the three years of Hudson House’s construction, Brant had gotten to know the names of every worker and thought he had a thorough mental list of those who were married and those who were not. How had he overlooked Denver’s family? Especially when the man had such an attractive wife?

Shiny brown hair she wore pulled back from her face, fastened with a ribbon at the nape of her graceful neck, fell in glorious waves to her waist. Freckles splattered a narrow, upturned nose. Her bottom lip, fuller than the top, rested in a natural pout that was most alluring. Her brown eyes snapped with intelligence and interest when they landed on Brant again. Her features were delicate and decidedly feminine, and she owned such a happy countenance, it made Brant want to smile just being in the same room with her.

Denver Drake was a most fortunate man if the woman holding a basket from which delicious aromas emanated was, indeed, his wife.

“Who might this be, Denver?” Brant asked, taking a step closer to the couple, curious and oddly interested in the answer.

“Holland Drake,” Denver said, taking the basket from the woman and giving her a slight nudge forward.

A wave of disappointment washed over Brant. So, she was married to Denver.

“My sister,” Denver continued.

The desire to raise his fist and cheer was almost more than Brant could contain, but he managed to tamp down his victorious feeling and school his features into what he hoped was a welcoming expression. The lovely woman was not married, at least not to Denver.

“Miss Drake,” Brant said, closing the distance between them and taking her hand in his. He raised her slender fingers to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand while holding her gaze.

Her eyes widened slightly, though he could see curiosity lingering there, and she quickly pulled her hand away. “I haven’t seen you working around the house before. Are you new?”

It was on the tip of Brant’s tongue to tell her the truth. To say he was the one who would eventually live in the house that had once been a dream scattered across multiple sheets of paper. Instead, he decided he wanted to get to know this woman, not as the owner of a fancy home, but as one of the many men helping to build it.

“I’m not new, but help was needed in the library today.” That wasn’t a lie, but the stark truth. He and Remington would likely contribute countless hours of physical labor if the house was to get finished by his own self-imposed deadline prior to his sister’s holiday arrival.

“Mister …” Denver started to speak up, but Brant gave him a brief shake of his head along with a warning look. The young man swallowed hard and nodded once in understanding. “Mr. Hudson is hoping to be able to use the library soon. It will also serve as his office, and he’d like it to be the first room completely finished. That’s why we’re all working so hard to make that happen.”