Free A Wolfish Tryst at Christmas by Twenty Or Less Press Page B

wrote back explaining the errant post.
She’d never looked back. She’d written him every week, wondering if
he received the missives, but continuing in case he did and counted
on them. Elizabeth had anticipated his responses as well, to the
point that it became something of a joke in town. On mail days,
she’d gotten into the habit of waiting outside the post office for
the stage to arrive—so many times the rotation of drivers now knew
her by name.
    After months of letters, a deep
friendship had sprung up, a friendship that had rapidly deepened
into something dear and abiding. The last letter she’d had from him
indicated he’d try everything in his power to gain leave from his
unit. Yet that had been weeks ago, and plans in wartime often went
awry.
    Living and breathing and conducting
life as if it were normal couldn’t be separated from the war no
matter how much she wished it. Her stomach clenched. She paused on
the staircase while her two younger sisters pelted past, excitement
flushing their cheeks and evident in their exuberant chatter about
what cakes and cookies would be on the dessert tables. She smiled
as their blonde curls, so much like her own, bounced. “Careful,
girls.” What would their future hold if the war didn’t end
soon?
    The disturbed air from the
opening front door rushed over her bared chest and shoulders,
prompting a shiver, but she didn’t want to go upstairs for a shawl.
She might miss Blake’s arrival. Stupid war
that keeps folks separated longer than they ought to be.
    She refused to let the state of the
Union color this night. Elizabeth tucked an escaped tendril of hair
back into its upsweep then gathered a handful of dark green-colored
silk. Would Blake admire the dress she’d selected? While visiting
on furlough six months ago, he’d let it slip in passing how much
this color complimented her skin.
    Of course he wouldn’t say, even if he
did come. How selfish was it that she thought on Blake and whether
he would attend a holiday party when he was needed in many other
places much more important? Yet couldn’t there be an allowance for
enjoyment too?
    The ivory underskirt embroidered with
pink rosebuds and green leaves would show to perfection as she made
short work of the rest of the stairs. At least that’s what her
sisters had assured when they’d dressed earlier. Too bad the one
person she wanted to impress wasn’t yet there to see her
descend.
    When she reached the ground level the
crush of party-goers swallowed her, and Elizabeth’s world became
the brush of hooped skirts, the rustle of fabrics, candlelight
twinkling off brass buttons on military uniforms, and the scents of
overheated bodies, powder, perfume, Christmas greenery and pomade.
She traversed the room with the tide of people. It deposited her in
a drawing room that had been transformed into a ballroom. A
quadrille was just setting up, and not wishing to participate, she
wandered the perimeter of the room. She nodded to acquaintances,
grinned at a few older women who glared at the younger set, and
waved to one of her sisters as the dance began.
    The music seeped into her bloodstream,
and Elizabeth tapped a foot in time to the bouncy military-inspired
tune. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Despite
everything currently happening in the divided nation, she was
grateful for her life and the opportunity to know Blake.
    Stealing a peek at a silver carriage
clock resting on a fireplace mantle, she sighed. Two hours until
midnight. Two hours until she needed to be in the gazebo on the far
side of the property to meet Blake, at least that’s where she’d
told him she’d be in her last letter. Would he show for a Christmas
miracle?
    ****
    Blake Harrison entered the bustling
house with a stream of other guests. While he handed over his
greatcoat, hat and gloves, he swept his gaze over the immediate
area. He tempered the excitement churning his stomach. She wouldn’t
be greeting guests since this wasn’t