Enchanted Holidays by Kim Cox

Author:Kim Cox
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2012-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,

And slips into the bosom of the lake:

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou and slip

Into my bosom and be lost in me.

--- Alfred Lord Tennyson

“The Princess”

“This one’s dated the 6th of May, 1917,” I read aloud.

“This is the happiest day of my life! I can’t believe it. Charles and I are engaged! We met as usual at the old tree—it’s the only place we can find any privacy—Mother has eyes like a hawk. We held hands and talked and talked and he kissed me—ever so gently. He engraved our initials in the tree trunk, with a heart around them and afterward, he got down on one knee and proposed.

“I can’t describe how I felt—almost as if heaven had opened up right before my eyes! My heart was ready to burst. He gave me a ring. It was his mother’s. It’s beautiful…gold with one small ruby. It’s too big for me, though, so I’ll wear it on a ribbon around my neck until we can take it to the jeweler to be resized. I can’t wait to become Mrs. Charles Atherton!”

I looked up and saw that Holly’s eyes were misty. I reached out a hand to her. “What is it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just so…so sad.”

I nodded. “Yes. But it does explain a lot.”

After the police left, we’d all piled into various cars to make a concerned procession to the hospital to check on Lyle and Clare. We waited edgily for over an hour before receiving word that Lyle would be just fine, but would be required to remain at the hospital under observation for twenty-four hours. By the time we left, Clare, too, was feeling much better, but wanted to remain with Lyle. So the rest of us returned to our cars and headed back to the house, the snowfall and darkness making the return journey less than pleasant. We stumbled in the front door, shed our coats, hats and scarves and headed to the kitchen, exhausted, but not ready to sleep.

As a distraction from the recent turn of events, Peter and I brought down the red box. Holly told everyone the tragic tale of Clementine Kreen and we all made somewhat of a ceremony out of opening the box and inspecting its contents.

There was a letter from the War Department, a cameo locket with the picture of a handsome young man in an army uniform and a diary.

We all sat around the kitchen table, sipping Sam Braxton’s well-aged brandy as I read excerpts from Clementine’s diary. Sam had been paid a visit by the police, too, so had come right over, anxious to hear what was going on.

Brent was surprised to learn that Clementine’s fiancé, Charles Atherton, was his distant relative. He listened with rapt attention as I read and inspected the letter from the War Department. It was signed on behalf of the Commander in Chief and informed Clementine that her fiancé, Pvt. Charles Atherton, had

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