A Christmas Baby at her Manor’s Door (Preview)

Chapter One

Lucy Griffin pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to contain the strangled breath that threatened to tear out of her. “I don’t understand.” 

Mr. Nottingham, the solicitor, sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know why Mr. Templeton left you the manor or the money, but it’s a sizeable estate to do with as you please. You’d be a fool to refuse it.” 

She would be a fool to refuse the money, of course, but she was worried about what the people of Sterling Bluff would think. There would surely be whispers about her in the morning when the men and women turned out in town, trudging through the early November snow to start their days. 

Is this money a blessing or a curse? What on earth was Archie thinking when he left me the money and the manor? He had to have lost his mind.

She sat up straighter, meeting Mr. Nottingham’s hard gaze. “I know what you said, but I can hardly believe it. He was a kind man, but this is too much. Far too much. There has to be some kind of mistake. Are you sure you’re reading the will right?” 

“You read it, then.” Mr. Nottingham pushed the piece of paper toward her and sat back in his wooden chair, his tie looking just a little too tight. 

Lucy took the paper with shaking hands, looking over the flowing scrawl, pausing at the little blots on ink on the edge of the page. It was smeared as if a tear had hit them while the will was being written. 

Sniffling, she skimmed the page over and over again, trying to commit the words to memory. But no matter how many times she read it, she still couldn’t believe it. 

She was now the owner of a gorgeous manor on a hill and a fortune she couldn’t spend in two lifetimes. 

“Congratulations,” Mr. Nottingham said, opening his briefcase and pulling out a bundle of paperwork. “Once I have your signature on these, the manor and the money will be yours.” 

Lucy pressed her lips into a thin line, putting down the will and trying to convince her hands to stop shaking. It was a lot of money. Far more than she’d ever hoped to have at twenty-four years old. She gripped her skirts until her knuckles ached while Mr. Nottingham got the papers ready for her. 

When he pushed them across the desk toward her, the pen following, she took a deep breath. 

As she signed her name to the papers, it still felt like she was living in a dream.

Mr. Nottingham grabbed the papers once they were signed, checking them over before handing one of the copies back to her. “This is your documentation for the manor and the transfer of the money. It should be in your account within a matter of days. If you have any questions in the meantime, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

He pulled a golden key out of his pocket and pressed it into her palm. Even the bite of the key’s teeth into her skin as she gripped it tight wasn’t enough to convince her this was real. 

Archie was a kind man, but leaving his entire estate to her was unheard of. It was the act of a man who might not have been in his right mind.

Though, Archie was always in his right mind, through all the years she’d known him, especially back when she was a young girl and they would sit by the fire on cold winter mornings.

“Now, Lucy, I think there might be a present for you in that bag over there,” Archie said, slipping out of his seat to sit on the ground, his legs crossing. 

Lucy jumped to her feet and rushed across the room to the bag. It was so rare for her to get presents. Her heart was pounding and her hands trembling as she pulled out a set of Shakespeare’s works, all bound in a gorgeous burgundy leather with thick, creamy pages. 

“Mr. Templeton, this is too much.” Lucy clutched the little books to her chest, holding them tight. 

Her mother sat in the corner, the look in her eyes distant, her thin lips pressed into a line that made her mouth look nearly invisible. 

“I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Archie.” He chuckled and shook his head, patting the spot beside him. “Come read me Twelfth Night. You know its my favorite.” 

She grinned and sat down beside him. “Mine too.”

Lucy gripped the key a little tighter, chasing the memory from her mind as she stood and smoothed down her dress. That had been a long time ago, and though Archie had been a good friend, there was no reason for him to leave her the manor. 

He taught me how to ride a horse, laughing when I jumped it over the ravine even though Mama said not to. 

Archie was the one who told me to get back on when I fell off. Who encouraged me to keep riding. He spent hours and hours one weekend teaching me how to put the saddle on and brush the horse when I was done riding. 

The biggest moments in her life—the happiest memories—revolved around Archie, but those memories were also the saddest. The ones that reminded her that her own father hadn’t wanted to be in her life. That she and her mother only had the bare minimum to survive, until they moved to Sterling Bluff. 

Archie had given them a sum of money every month—and though she didn’t know the exact number, Lucy knew her mother had used it to fund the orphanage Lucy still ran and called home. 

The little ranch. The place with some of her best and worst memories. Most of that money had gone to ensuring the other children had good lives, Lucy cared for but given less than the others.

But perhaps that was because I had Archie to visit and the other children didn’t. Perhaps that was because he would visit me and spoil me with each one of his visits.

A handful of bittersweet memories had no business making her an heiress.

But maybe this can benefit the orphans. Maybe… maybe I can make the manor into someplace special for them.

Lucy took the key and left the office, smiling at the receptionist on the way out. The door swung shut behind her and she was greeted by the sun shining down, beating through the linen of her dress and warming her. 

She brushed a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair back into the knot at the base of her neck before turning toward Anabelle’s home. It was at the end of the street and just to the right of the church.

The little white clapboard house was a welcome sight, the paperwork clutched in Lucy’s hand as she waved to Anabelle, who was busy knocking icicles from the little overhang above the front door. 

Anabelle’s brows furrowed as she rushed to meet Lucy. “What’s that?” 

“I met with Mr. Nottingham today.” Lucy swallowed hard, handing her best friend the papers. “You may as well read it for yourself because I hardly believed it until I did.” 

Taking the papers, Anabelle followed her, reading while they walked. She gasped, gripping Lucy’s arm and pulling her to a stop. “This can’t be true.” 

“It is.” Lucy held Anabelle’s arm a little tighter. “Come with me to look at the manor. And while you’re at it, you can pinch me so I know this is real.” 

Anabelle laughed, and the pair set out for the long walk to the manor. “I’m sure you’ll know it’s real when you see the house.” 

Lucy stared up at the familiar home in wonder, seeing it in a new light. This can’t be mine. I don’t deserve this. 

But it’s mine.

The thought was fleeting as they followed the winding path up the hill to the white manor with towering pillars and etchings of flowers carved in some of the stonework. Snow covered what would be lush gardens in the spring, drifts piled close to the fences. 

Lucy pulled her coat tighter around her as the wind picked up. “Let’s go inside. If we stay out here much longer, I might freeze.” 

Anabelle waved the papers. “I don’t even know what this really means, but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.” 

“I know.” Lucy climbed the steps to the front door, slipping the key into the lock and turning it. 

The furniture was draped with white sheets the way it always was when Archie left town. There was a layer of dust on the windowsills and mantles. Archie must have let his housekeeper go before he passed. It looked like the home hadn’t been cleaned in several weeks.

She stepped a little deeper into the house, the worn floorboards creaking beneath her feet. There were some walls with pieces of plaster missing, others with torn shreds of wallpaper. It wasn’t entirely like the home she once spent time at, but it was still beautiful in its own right. She could see the potential pouring from every corner of the building.

Lucy swallowed, fighting back tears as she looked around. She could remember the evenings she’d spent running around the halls of this home. They had been few and far between, but even now she could hear Archie laughing as he chased her out the front door and through the gardens.

“Did he tell you he was going to be leaving you the manor?” Anabelle asked as she started pulling open the curtains. 

“No.” Lucy took the sheet off one of the couches in the parlor, running her fingers along the striped fabric. “When I saw him at Mama’s funeral a few years ago, he didn’t say a word. Not even in the couple of letters he sent me after that. Never visited Sterling Bluff again after that, even though he kept the household staff employed.” 

Anabelle put the papers on the covered coffee table, propping her hands on her hips, her blue eyes roaming around the room. “Well, he’s gone now and this is yours. What are you going to do with all this space?” 

Lucy’s cheeks felt a little warm. She was unsure as she met Anabelle’s gaze. “I was thinking of moving the orphanage here once there are more children. There’s such little space, and if I open an orphanage here, the future children would have more room than they know what to do with. They’d have as close to a normal childhood as I could give them.” 

“You don’t sound certain about that.” 

“I’m certain about giving them a better life than the one I’m currently providing for the couple of children we have left.” Lucy paced around the room, looking at the cobwebs in the corners and the dirt that settled on the floors. “It’s going to take some work to get the manor clean, and then I have to make sure everything the children are going to need is here, but… well… do you think it could be done?” 

Anabelle grinned, stopping Lucy and taking her by the hands, holding them tight. “I know there’s nothing in the world you can’t do once you set your mind to it.” 

Lucy wasn’t sure how true that was, but this was just the beginning of her dream, she wasn’t about to give up hope yet.

Even if turning the manor into an orphanage seems as daunting as Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.

Chapter Two

Jesse Holden wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers coming away spotted with a bit of blood. He looked between the crimson on his fingers and Gab. “That is the last time I get thrown through a saloon window for you.”  

Gab laughed, extending his hand and helping Jesse to his feet. “You were itching for the chance to explore New Mexico. And don’t pretend you don’t love tracking people down.” 

“Private investigating rarely gets me thrown through a window, though.” 

“Seems like you’re in the wrong line of work.” Gab brushed some of the broken glass from Jesse’s shoulder before turning to the man sitting on a bench, his wrists bound together.

The sheriff nodded to them, giving Gab a bundle of money before walking away with the man in tow. 

Gab rummaged in his pocket, pulling out several coins and handing them to Jesse. “Well, there’s the money for all your hard work. We should do this again sometime. Make a good team, me and you.” 

Jesse counted the bills, trying not to smear the drying blood from his knuckles onto the money. “Let’s get drinks first. Talk about the future later.” 

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to start thinking about what’s going to be in your future.” Gab hauled open the door to the saloon, stepping in to a round of cheers from the people inside. 

Keeping his head down, wanting to stay out of the attention as much as possible—even though he knew it was a foolish hope—Jesse followed Gab to a table in the back, far from the bar but close to the fire burning bright in the stone hearth. 

He sat down in the chair closest to the wall, keeping his eyes on the room. As Gab went to fetch the drinks, Jesse kept his gaze scanning the room. It lingered on the man who whispered to the barmaid, the dazed look in the barmaid’s eyes making it clear she was hardly paying attention. 

Gab came back and sat down across from Jesse, sliding one of the glasses of whiskey over to him before pulling a pack of playing cards from his pockets. “Been thinking a lot about what to do after this.” 

“So have I.” Jesse dropped some coins onto the center of the table after Gab finished shuffling the cards. As Jesse grabbed five cards, checking what he had, he sighed. “I don’t think private investigating is enough anymore.” 

“Then why keep doing it?” Gab tossed his own money into the pot before drawing his cards and looking at them. 

“If I want to do anything else, need the money.” Jesse glanced at his cards again, keeping his face neutral as he glanced at his three-of-a-kind. 

It wasn’t a bad hand, but there was still a good chance that Gab had a better one. 

“What else would you do?” Gab chuckled, tossing more money into the pot as well. 

Confident about his cards. Which means he’s likely got a decent hand. Bet was low, though. Nothing stellar. 

“Don’t know. Maybe own some horses. Raise them. Have a ranch.” Jesse drummed his fingers on the worn table, a stand of his black hair from beneath his hat, across his forehead. He took the hat off, setting it on the table beside him and running his fingers through his hair. 

Gab rolled his eyes. “Seems like a pretty boring life to me.” 

“Discarding one.” Jesse put one card in the discard pile and drew another. Nothing that would help his hand, but nothing that would harm it either. 

Gab smirked, leaning back in his chair, sipping his bourbon slowly before finally putting a couple more coins in the pot. “Are you sure you would want to give up traveling the country and hunting people down?” 

“Maybe. Feels like I need a change.” 

“You and I both know you have more than enough money to make that change then. You’re only thirty-two and you already have more money than most people know what to do with.” 

“Through inheritance. Feels like I might not have made enough of my own yet.” Jesse discarded two of his cards, and in that moment, he knew he had Gab. 

Gab glanced at his own cards, tossing some and pulling three more. His face paled, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead as his green eyes flicked to Jesse’s. “Fold.” 

Jesse grinned and showed the four-of-a-kind in his hand. Gab flipped his own cards, a straight staring up at Jesse. 

He took the pot and slipped it into his pocket, reaching for his bourbon. “Well, feels like I might have more money now.” 

Snorting, Gab downed the rest of his drink, leaning close to the table to be heard over the raising voices on the other side of the bar. “You should put an ad in the paper. Find a wife. Settle down and start that ranch.” 

Jesse scoffed and shook his head, glancing at the pair of men arguing in the corner, their ales sloshing over the rims of their tankards and onto the floor. “I’m not going to place an ad for a wife. If I want one, I’d rather love her than tolerate her, and when you send away for a bride, you might learn to love them, but you also don’t know. Too much risk.” 

“Then just start the ranch.” 

“Maybe.” Jesse swirled the last of his bourbon, downing it as the men on the other side of the room stood, their chairs crashing to the floor as their shouting escalated. “Don’t know where I want to settle either.” 

“You’re nothing but lost.” Gab sighed and rose to his feet as the men drew guns and pointed them at each other. “We should deal with that.” 

Jesse nodded, standing up and crossing the room in a couple steps. He grabbed one man by the shoulder, intending to calm the conversation down, but he was met with a fist to the face instead. 

Though his jaw ached, he jumped into the fight, throwing a fist back and disarming the man before he had a chance to pull the trigger. 

Jesse and Gab worked together, disarming the men, knocking them unconscious while trying to wrestle them to the door, and throwing them out of the saloon and into the frozen dirt to sober up. 

After the door swung shut, Jesse turned to Gab. “All I wanted was a peaceful night.” 

“Looks like that’s not going to happen.” 

Jesse opened the door and peeked at the men. “Help me carry them to the inn. Might be fools, but that’s not enough reason to let them freeze.” 

“Let me pay the tab and grab our hats.” 

As Gab disappeared inside, Jesse stepped outside to keep an eye on the men. He was getting tired of hunting people down for a living, but he was telling the truth when he told Gab he didn’t know where he would settle. 

There wasn’t a place that had felt like home since he was eighteen and disease robbed him of his family. 

Maybe there would never be somewhere for him to call home again.

Chapter Three

Lucy clutched her bag closer as she walked through the general store, looking at the bolts of fabric on the walls. She needed something in a nice cream to make new curtains for the manor, but instead all she got were curious looks from the other people in town.

“Why would he leave her the manor?” Mrs. Havisham whispered to her sister. “Doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Nearly two weeks in there and she’s yet to throw a party to welcome us to her home.” Mrs. Havisham’s sister shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Just not right. In our day, there would have been a big party.” 

Lucy hurried past the two women, turning a corner of the little shop and going to hide in the alcove with bags of flour and sugar. 

All she wanted was a peaceful life. Instead, she was the topic of gossip. 

As she leaned against one of the empty shelves, she let out a wavering breath, her eyes stinging with tears she didn’t dare shed. She should be grateful for the manor; she should be happy there would be a warm and comfortable place for the children to go. 

Instead, she found herself wishing that it had never been given to her. 

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm herself as she pushed away from the shelf and stepped back out into the main area of the store. She held her head high and walked back to the fabric, ignoring the whispers that followed her as she grabbed a thick cream fabric from the wall and carried it over to the shopkeeper. 

I can cry when I get home. 

Anabelle hummed as she teetered on the ladder, looking down at Lucy. “I can’t believe they had the audacity to say those things, especially when you were standing right there!” 

Maggie, the newly hired housekeeper, snorted and shook her head. “People are always going to speak poorly of those around them, especially when envy sinks its talons into them.” 

Lucy groaned, grabbing the old curtain rod as Anabelle passed it down to her. “I know, but I wish that they wouldn’t. There’s no reason for them to do so. Especially in church.” 

“In church?” Anabelle laughed and shook her head. “I doubt Pa was having much of that.” 

“Remember when his sermon switched to a lecture on gossiping?” Lucy tossed the old rod out of the way, in the pile of things that were to be taken out of the manor to make way for all the new supplies she had ordered. 

“Yes.” Anabelle made her way back down the ladder, dusting her hands off on her skirts. 

“That’s because people kept asking me what I was going to do with it and then whispering to everyone around me.” Lucy rubbed a hand on the back of her neck. “I don’t know how to turn this place into an orphanage in the first place, and now here are all these other people who want to have an opinion.” 

“Don’t pay them any mind. You have a good heart and a good head.” Maggie shuffled some old white sheets to the side. “I’m going to put these into storage in the cellar. Is there anything you want brought up?”

Lucy sat down on the new couch, shifting to the side and testing out the plush cushions. “Could you see if there’s some wood down there I could use to carve out the children’s names? I want to have them on the doors to each of their rooms so everyone feels like they have somewhere they belong.” 

Maggie nodded, taking the sheets and leaving the room. 

Anabelle sat down beside Lucy. “She seems like she’s going to be a good help here.” 

“She is. She might not be one for talking much, but she works hard and it’s nice to have her here.” 

Anabelle’s eyebrows pulled together, and she looked out the window. “Is that the mayor?” 

Lucy got up, her heart slamming into her ribs. “I don’t know why he would be here.” 

The last thing she wanted was the people of town feeling like they could keep coming to the door and pestering her. She didn’t mind the visitors, but everyone seemed to want to come by, and all of them wanted a tour of the manor. Lucy was running out of reasons to refuse them.

And she didn’t think she could refuse the mayor. 

With a deep breath, she opened the door, stepping out onto the porch and into the icy air, giving him her best forced smile. “Mayor Finnegan.” 

“Miss Griffin.” Mayor Finnegan gave her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his blue eyes. “I was hoping we could speak for a moment.” 

She wrapped her arms tight around her body, trying to stave off the chill. “What about?” 

His gaze cut to the door, the wind playing with the long strands of his blond hair. “Perhaps we might go inside and discuss it?” 

Lucy bristled, trying not to show it. “The air is so nice out here this afternoon and the sun is shining so bright. It’d be a shame to waste such a day.” 

“You’re right. It would be.” He cleared his throat. “Have you seen the new pews in the church yet? Fine pieces of woodwork I commissioned.” 

“Quite.” Lucy glanced to the window, Anabelle disappearing out of sight the second their eyes connected. 

It looked like her friend wasn’t going to come out and save her. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future.” Mayor Finnegan cleared his throat. “It’s hard to imagine going through life without those we love by our side. When I lost my late wife, I wasn’t sure how I was going to carry on, especially when Caity was a young girl. It was difficult, as I imagine losing your mother was.” 

“It was.” Lucy found it hard to relate one to the other. Mayor Finnegan was nearly forty-five—twenty-one years her senior—and had spent much of his life without his wife given the fact that Caity was twenty now and her mother died when she was three. 

“Have you given much thought to the future?” Mayor Finnegan asked, glancing around the property. “You’ve now got a large home. Surely you would like to fill it with a family?” 

Lucy bristled, disliking where she thought the conversation was going. She had spent little time around the mayor, but in that time, she had grown to dislike the man. He was only reinforcing those feelings now.

“I’ve thought little about a family.” Lucy crossed her arms, fighting off the chill and the desire to go back inside. “I have children at the orphanage to care for until they’re adopted.” 

“And after that? Surely you have to want something for yourself.” Mayor Finnegan’s eyes narrowed, an odd edge to his voice. 

“Surely you do not mean to offend me by whatever this conversation may be, but we hardly know each other, Mayor. I would love to get to know you better, but there is work I have to return to and a guest inside I must tend to.” Lucy bit the words out, hoping he could hear the venom in her voice. 

Instead he grinned and shook his head, stepping closer to her, forcing her to take another step back. His gaze raked up and down her body before he met her eyes once more. 

“Lucy, I have to admit, I have taken time to notice you this past summer. You sent letters to Caity when she was sickly even though none others in town would. It speaks to a kindness in your soul that I find desirable in a wife.” 

Lucy gritted her teeth together. “I’m sure I have no idea what you could mean by that.” 

She was playing the fool, hoping she could spare them both the embarrassment of what would come next.

Mayor Finnegan shifted to the side, his hands digging deeper into the pockets of his thick overcoat. “I wanted to ask if you would do me the honor of being my wife.” 

Her jaw hit the ground. 

“E-excuse me?” Lucy took a step back, her spine pressing against the door like she could fall through it and back into the safety of the house. 

“I would like for you to be my wife.” He took a seat on the cracked bench, nodding to the seat beside him. “Would you sit with me for a moment?” 

Lucy remained standing, trying to force her way past the shock. “I’m sorry. You are a kind man, but—” 

“I’ve admired you for a long time and I believe we would make a handsome couple.” He swallowed hard, eyeing the still-empty seat beside him. “Which is why I’ve come here today to ask you to be my wife.”

Lucy said nothing. She couldn’t. There weren’t enough words in the world to convey what was going on in her mind that moment

And though she tried to gather herself the best she could, it was hard to keep her mouth from dropping open once more. 

“Thank you, but no,” she said, her tone firm despite the way she felt like she was falling to pieces inside. “I appreciate the kindness, but I have no intention of marrying.” 

Mayor Finnegan shot to his feet. “You’re alone and without protection here. I could offer you that. I could offer you a good life. You’d be comfortable. There’d be no want for anything.” 

Lucy pressed her lips together, the chill from the wind nearly as cold as the chill she was trying to convey. “I can assure you that I have no intention of marrying, and pressing the issue will not force me to change my mind.” 

She had more than enough money to keep herself comfortable thanks to Archie. 

Mayor Finnegan shook his head, eyeing the house, deep lines creasing the corner of his mouth. “What are you going to do with the manor, then? The home is falling apart at the seams.” 

Though she had been blinded by the nostalgia when she walked into the manor weeks ago, the time since had only shown her how true those words were. 

“I’ll fix it and turn it into an orphanage,” she said, her tone soft, not wanting to be cruel to him when she had already rejected his proposal.

His gaze scanned up and down the manor before breathing out a sigh and running his skeletal fingers through his hair. “Take some time to consider the proposal. If you choose me, I do believe we could be happy together.” 

Without another word, he turned and walked down the path leading back to the road. 

She opened the door and closed it behind her. She didn’t need more time to consider the proposal. Marriage was and would always be the last thing on her mind. 

For now, she had children to think of and a worn manor to stitch back together. There was no time for thoughts of love or anything else foolish that might draw her from the manor, but at least she and Anabelle could have a good laugh when Lucy told her what had transpired.