Callie Hutton's Blog, page 2

Read an excerpt from ‘A Christmas in Manchester’

Heath Station, Derbyshire, England
October 1831

“If you continue to plod along at this pace, Peony, we’re never going to reach home.” Evelyn Allen, known as Eve to family and friends, snapped the reins on the ancient horse pulling the family wagon along the road from the outskirts of the village to her home.

It had been a long day of gathering extra crops from the farms in the county to be delivered to the poor families in the village. Far too many villagers did not have enough food or clothes for their children. It was Eve’s job once a month to gather whatever the farmers could spare, and bring it to her papa’s church to be distributed to the needy, along with any unwanted clothing she managed to collect.

Mama held a sewing circle every week when the ladies sewed new blankets and knitted baby clothes. Evelyn loved the look of gratitude on the young mothers’ faces when they were handed the warm blankets and knitted booties and caps for their little ones. Most of them had hard working husbands, but with so many children, it was difficult to make ends meet.

Her shoulders ached from hours of holding the reins, and her growling stomach reminded her it was well past dinner time. She only had about another four miles to go, but with Peony plodding along, as she was wont to do near the end of the day, Eve might be forced to push the animal home.

The horse came to an abrupt stop and nickered, tossing her head. “What?” Evelyn rose to peer over the animal’s head to see a man, smack in the middle of the path, on his knees, waving his arm.

“Oh, heavens.” She tied the reins around the dash and climbed down. The man grasped his shoulder and panted heavily as she approached him. Briefly, she considered that perhaps she should have brought her pistol from underneath the wagon seat, since highwaymen had been known to prowl the area. This man could very well be a decoy of sorts. “Are you well, my lord?”

He shook his head. “Shot.”

He’d been shot? It was then she noticed the blood oozing between his fingers where he had them plastered against his dark jacket. “Robbed, and shot.” He barely got the words out.

She’d never seen him before, but given his clothing and demeanor, he was most likely nobility. Her favorite type of people to dislike. Even kneeling in the dirt, bleeding, he had an air about him that smacked of privilege. However, her Christian sense of duty to her fellow man pushed that to the back of her mind.

“Can you stand, my lord? I can help you into my wagon and bring you home. Mama is good with healing, and I am no more than four miles from my house.”

Sweat beading his forehead, he grimaced and gave her a curt nod. She reached under his arm on the good side and helped him to his feet. It was auspicious that he had the ability to rise, because given his size and muscular form, she never could have lifted him. He slung his arm around her shoulders, and leaned heavily as they made their way back to the wagon.

“Did you hurt your leg, also?” He limped as they moved toward the vehicle.

“Yes.” He winced. “Tried to fight them off, but once they shot me, I was done for.”

It took some maneuvering, but with as much help as she could provide, he settled into the back of the wagon, along with all the vegetables. Despite those ignominious accommodations, it had been easier to position him there, then to attempt hauling him all the way up onto the driving seat. She began a slight apology, but he waved her away, wincing with every move. “Please don’t concern yourself. I am grateful to be out of the road.”

With renewed purpose to reach home, Eve snapped the reins, and egged the animal on, hoping his wound was not serious enough to cause the man to expire right there in her wagon. By the time they reached the cottage, he had passed out. Eve hurried into the tidy house that had been home to her family since before she’d been born.

“Mama, Papa. I need your help.” She dashed through the back door, past the kitchen, taking a moment to sniff whatever it was Mama had cooked for dinner, newly aware of how hungry she was.

Darting down the corridor, she checked each room, until Mama met her at the bottom of the stairs and Papa stepped out of his study, his spectacles low on his nose. “Whatever is the problem, daughter?”

“There is a gentleman in my wagon.” She stopped to take in air. “He has been shot. I found him on the road home.”

All three quickly made their way out the back door to the wagon. “Is he dead?” Mother sucked in a breath and held her hand to her chest as she viewed the man’s pale face.

“No, Mama. I think he has just passed out. He said he was shot in the shoulder by highwaymen.”

“Reverend, we need to get him inside so I can see to his wound.” Mama looked the gentleman up and down. “He is much too large to move him upstairs. We must use the tiny bedroom at the back, next to the kitchen.” She looked again at their patient. “I hope the bed is long enough. He is truly a large man.”

Although he remained unconscious, with Papa on one side, and Eve on the other, they managed to drag him into the house and deposit him on the bed in the mostly unused bedroom.

Mama gently rolled the man onto his side and viewed his back. “Eve, fetch me a pan of hot water, some clean cloths, my long knife, and bullet extractor. There is no hole at the back of his jacket, so there is a good chance the bullet is still embedded in him.”

Once Eve brought the supplies to her mama, Papa touched her on the shoulder. “I am sorry, my dear, but Mama and I must undress the gentleman to get to his wound. You will need to wait outside until we are finished.”

“I could hold the candle.” She had attended other patients Mama had dealt with, but she had never been present when a young man had been a victim. It embarrassed her to know how much she would have enjoyed seeing that broad chest uncovered.

She would say a few extra prayers at bedtime this night.

A CHRISTMAS IN MANCHESTER COMING NOVEMBER 28, 2022.

Preorder at your favorite retailer!

For a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card, comment and let me know what you think of this new holiday release!

 

On Halloween. . .

Halloween is one of our favorite holidays and generally starts the traditional “holiday season” of Halloween, Thanksgiving (US as well as other countries), Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and New Year’s Eve.

There is something magical for me in Halloween. Pumpkins, ghosts, scary costumes, lots of candy. When I was a kid, I spent many hours dreaming of the beautiful, custom-made princess costume with a wand of gold and a long, flowing blond wig that mom would get for me. I was equally thrilled when she brought home a Superman costume on sale at the local discount store. Boy, girl–mom didn’t care. It was a bargain!

In those days kids started their trick or treating right after school (Baby Boom era – most moms were home). I lived in a neighborhood with about eleven thousand kids, yet we all managed to fill our bags with enough candy to be sick for weeks.

After dinner my mom and dad piled the four of us in the car (after they took out the few who didn’t belong) and to grandmother’s house we would go. We loved that part of the day because grandma always saved the best candy for us. As well as a few coins slipped into our bags.

It was a great day we looked forward to every year and was not considered a success unless dad had to pull the car over on the way home since at least one of us was sick.

What was your childhood Halloween like? Comment to be entered into the drawing for an Amazon gift card. And while you’re here, take a look around at my newly re-designed website!

A chance to win!!

https://www.booksweeps.com/giveaway/july-2022/win-a-bundle-of-historical-romance/

In the good old summertime…

The best thing for kids after Christmas and their birthday is, of course, summertime. No school, no homework, no early bedtime. Ice pops dipping down your legs, drinking water from the hose, doing cartwheels on the front lawn.

My grandsons (the twinadoes) had their last day of school last week. They are now big time second graders. A tradition with us is a trip to the local ice cream shop for them to split a banana split. Unfortunately, this year I was in quarantine on that most memorable day, so we had to move it up a few days.

But they did get their banana split and had the tummy ache to prove it.

My memory of summer is hot, humid weather. Growing up I lived in the city so there was no front lawn or water hose, but we made do. Once breakfast was over and our chores done, out the door we went. Mom locked said door. Four kids coming in and out all day was not her idea of a fun summer.

After lunch, we were locked out again until supper. I was raised in the 1950-60s so there were hundreds of kids to play with (baby boomers). There were, of course, no video games, ipads, or iphones. For us it was hopscotch, red light-green light, ball, jump rope, paper dolls, hula hoops, jacks, marbles, bikes, roller skates, and ‘the showers.’

My apartment complex had a huge (I mean huge) shower they ran every afternoon. We would all descend on the playground where the showers were, spread out our towels and pretend we were at the beach. Or the pool.

The twinadoes might have a different type of summer than I had, but one thing we all have in common. Summertime is great!

What is your favorite summer memory?

Mother, May I? Yes, You Can!

This year, Mother’s Day is Sunday, May 8th. To me, this is an opportunity to celebrate all women because, in some way, each of us nurtures and encourages and inspires those around us. Women are problem-solvers, caretakers, community advocates, role models, and people who initiate change.

Here’s your chance to honor a special woman in your life and maybe win a $25 Amazon gift card! Comment and share how a woman touched your life or made an impact on who you are today. I’ll randomly select one winner at the end of the month.

Wishing you a happy Mother’s Day!

Spring is in the air

Spring is in the air! Remember the old song, “April showers bring May flowers”? And what do May flowers bring? Pilgrims.

Yes, I know. I can hear you groan.

I will be in Nashville from May 12-16 for the Weekend with the Authors event. There will be a book signing on Saturday, May 16th from 3 to 6 PM. You can check out the information here: https://www.aweekendwiththeauthors.com/ Stop by and see us. There’s a great line-up of authors of all genres.

The third book in my new Highlander series will release on May 6th. To Yield to a Highlander is a fun book.

This could be the best mistake of his life…

Laird Duncan Grant doesn’t want his neighboring clans, the MacIntoshes and the MacPhersons, to form an alliance by the planned marriage between their offspring. It would make for a dangerous situation for his clan. Since he is in need of a wife, he decides to seize the bride on her way to the wedding and keep her for himself.

But he takes the wrong lass.

Lady Elsbeth Johnstone is tired of living in her twin sister’s shadow. She loves her dearly, but it is time for her to have her own life. With no prospects for marriage, she decides a convent in Perth is the place for her.

In the dead of night on her trek to Perth, she is dragged away from her escort by a band of men who think she is someone else. Furious at how her life is now out of her control again, she demands Laird Grant bring her to the convent in Perth.

Angry at the mistake he made, he agrees, but he can’t help but wonder if he could tame the spirited lass and convince her to stay.

After all, he is in need of a wife.

To Yield to a Highlander is up for pre-order now. https://calliehutton.com/book/to-yiel...

My website has a new look!

There’s nothing like finding a new outfit that really flatters you. Pants that are comfortable, a shirt that fits just right, shoes that don’t pinch your toes, and a cute purse that holds everything!

I’m excited to launch this new website with a fresh look and easy-to-navigate content.

If you have any suggestions for content or how to make things more user-friendly, let me know!

Valentine’s Day – Yay or Nay?

February is romance month. Or so the story goes. But how many disappointments and hard feelings result from Valentine’s Day? If you love the day and are happy with how it turns out for you, I am very pleased. However, there are those who never quite reach their ‘dream’ Valentine’s Day.

My husband and I have never focused on one day a year to celebrate romance. And romance doesn’t have to be flowers and candy. Or a romantic dinner for two with candlelight and wine.

Let me tell you about my most romantic meal. Years ago my husband and I, newly married, didn’t have much money. He was out of work, and with the high rate of unemployment then, it was rare for both of us to be working at the same time.

I worked at a newspaper. One day a group of women decided to go out to lunch together, which is something we rarely did. I think it was someone’s birthday or something. I had no money to go with them. I called my husband at home to have him join my pity party. He told me to come home for lunch. Which I did.

He met me at the door with a suit and tie on, and a white cloth napkin over his arm. He escorted me to our kitchen table set for two, with a tablecloth, one leftover birthday candle and our chipped dishes and bent silverware. Romantic music came from our radio.

He served us a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on white bread. We split a beer.

No romantic dinner for two in a pricey restaurant would ever impress me more. Did he do anything special for me that year on Valentine’s day?  I don’t remember, but I do remember our special lunch for two.

Making the most of the new year…

Yikes, things have been rough the past two years! No matter which side of the fence you sit on politically, it hasn’t been good. Then Covid comes, Covid goes, Covid comes again with a new name, Covid with a new name becomes another new name. Masks on, masks off, masks back on again.

I’m weary, how about you?

But there is always hope. A human blessing for most folks. My hope for the new year is that the world calms down, Covid disappears (I did call it a hope), and everyone of you has a productive, healthy, and happy new year.

We can make our own little world a nicer place.

First of all, turn off the news. Second, don’t honk your horn at the guy who cuts in front of you. He might be in a hurry for a good reason, or he might just be a jerk. Let it go.

Pay the bill for the person behind you in the drive-through once in a while. It comes back at you, believe me. We do it quite a bit in our town.

Be nice to the clerk in the store giving you news you don’t want to hear. She or he is only doing their job.

Leave a bit more money in your tip for the server who depends on those tips to pay bills.

The next time you want a pet, try a rescue dog or cat.

Bring your neighbor’s trash can in when you fetch you own.

Remember your child’s teacher is doing a very difficult job. Don’t come down on him or her if they do something you don’t like. They truly do have your child’s best interests in mind.

Will any of this change the world? Probably not. But it will change you little part of the world, and that’s really all that counts.

Have a happy new year and if losing weight, exercising more, or eating healthier is one of you new year’s resolutions, good luck.

What do you have planned for the new year?

Stranded at the Inn on Christmas Eve

Stranded at an Inn on Christmas Eve by Callie Hutton

Twenty miles outside of Bath, England

December 24, 1885

Leaning heavily on Grayson’s arm, Addie entered the main room of the coaching inn. Thank goodness a strong fire had been built up and the place was warm. She stiffened as another pain shot from around her back to her belly. She glanced up at her husband to see if he had noticed, and breathed a sigh of relief when he seemed focused on the innkeeper who approached them.

“Ah, good afternoon, my lord. ‘Tis a nasty day out there for sure, and I see from your coat that the snow has started.” The innkeeper made a quick bow, the directed them to a table near the fireplace. “Will you be needing a room?”

“I don’t believe so. My wife and I are on our way home but it’s taking longer than we planned. She is feeling poorly and we thought we could stop for some tea and perhaps a light meal.” Grayson helped her into the small wooden chair, which she eyed skeptically, not sure if it would hold her bulk.

“Yes, I can serve ye a fine lamb stew my wife has simmering in the kitchen, along with a nice pot of tea and warm bread. ‘Tis a good thing you aren’t in need of a room because we don’t have one available at present.” The innkeeper glanced quickly at Addie’s protruding stomach and said, “Looks like you have a little one on the way.” He narrowed his eyes. “Very shortly.”

Addie held in the groan as once again her stomach muscles tightened. She hadn’t really wanted to tell Grayson the true reason she wanted to stop. It appeared the babe was anxious to make its appearance, and she did not want to give birth on the road. She feared if she told him the real reason, he would have panicked, and made things worse.

“Are you feeling all right, sweetheart? You look a little pale.” Grayson hovered over her as he helped her remove her cloak. Addie glanced at her belly and marveled once again at the life contained therein. As she was wont to do of late, tears gathered at the thought of the babe. A white linen handkerchief appeared in front of her eyes which she used to wipe her wet cheeks.

“You are certainly a watering pot these days.” Grayson took the chair alongside her and clasped her hand in his. “I know you felt the need for a short respite, but I want to make sure we arrive in Bath before the roads get too bad.”

She patted his hand. “Yes, I know. But I feel the need for—” Addie sucked in a breath and gripped Grayson’s hand with such force he winced.

“What?” Panic already graced his voice.

Addie let out a slow breath and said, “I think the babe might be eager to meet his parents.”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Now?”

She nodded.

Grayson jumped up, knocking his chair over. “Innkeeper!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

Addie gave him a slight smile and nodded once again. “Yes, I believe so.”

He waved at her belly. “Well, tell him he can’t right now. I mean, you’re his mum, make him obey.”

Despite her fear and pain, Addie burst out laughing. “I have no control over this.”

The innkeeper hurried in, a stout woman wiping her hands on a stained apron behind him. “What is it, sir?”

“We need a room. A bed. And a midwife. Now.”

The innkeeper stood before them, wringing his hands. “I’m very sorry, sir, but I have no more rooms.”

Addie covered her face with her hands and groaned.

“What? What?” Grayson was near hysteria.

What in heaven’s name had happened to her clear, calm husband?

“Do you not see the humor in this?” Addie bit back her laughter at the tense expression on Grayson’s face. She doubted he would find humor in this at all.

“What are you talking about, Addie? What’s funny?”

She placed her hand on her aching back. “It’s Christmas Eve, I’m about to deliver a baby, and there is no room at the inn.”

He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. She could almost see him re-playing the words in his head, trying to make sense of it. When he continued to stare, she waved at him. “Never mind. I’ll explain it another time.” Where was her strong, always-in-charge husband when she needed him?

The innkeeper’s wife stepped up to her. “I am terribly sorry about the lack of a room, my lady. ‘Tis not my intention to insult you, but you are more than welcome to use—“

“The stable?” Addie burst out laughing just as a pain hit and her mirth turned into a very loud groan.

“Not at all, my lady!” The woman gasped. “I would never put you in with the animals.”

“And it has already been done,” Addie mumbled. Did no one except her see the irony of the situation?

“I can let you make use of our bedroom, behind the kitchen. ‘Tis not much, and again I apologize, and don’t mean to offer you insult, but at least you can have privacy. I shall change the linens immediately.”

Grayson gripped Addie’s elbow and helped her up. “That would be fine, madam. My wife and I appreciate your consideration.”

Addie walked slowly behind the woman, Grayson’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. He leaned in close to her ear. “Couldn’t you have waited just a few more hours, my love?”

“Tell it to the babe.”

It had been hours since the midwife had arrived and remained cosseted with Addie in the small bedroom at the back of the inn. Grayson walked the boards under his feet in front of the fireplace, amazed he hadn’t worn them out. Over time, Addie’s moans had turned into screams and cuss words he had no idea his wife knew. He’d decided two hours ago he and Addie would have a celibate marriage going forward.

The front door of the inn opened and Addie’s best friends, Lady Pamela, Lottie and her husband, Carter barreled through. “We left as soon as we received your message. Has the babe been born yet?” Lottie shrugged out of her snow covered coat.

“No.” Grayson rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

She rested her palm on his arm. “It is terrible to listen to, but all will be fine. Trust me.” She pulled off her gloves. “Where is she?” A loud scream echoed through the room. “Never mind. I believe I can find her.”

Lottie and Lady Pamela hurried to the back of the inn.

Carter slapped Grayson on the back. “Let’s have a bit of whiskey to celebrate the arrival of the babe.”

Grayson shook his head. “No. I have to keep a clear head.”

Since Carter was anticipating going through the same situation very shortly himself, the two men sat in silence, with Grayson hopping up and down to pace for another hour before Lottie lumbered out of the room, her face beaming. “Grayson. Go meet your child.”

He jumped up, and once again his chair went flying. “It’s over?”

When Lottie nodded, he shouted. “Praise the Lord!”

He entered the room and Lottie, Pamela and the midwife left, closing the door quietly behind them. Addie rested against the propped-up pillows, her hair plastered to her damp forehead, but with a smile on her face. She held a small bundle that moved as he stared at the sight. Cupping the babe’s body with one hand she held out her arm. “Come say hello to your son.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “A boy?” He felt the sudden need for the handkerchief he’d given her before.

“Yes.”

Grayson sat alongside her and gazed at the face of the beautiful child he and Addie had made together. Truly a miracle.

The door to the bedroom eased open and Lottie, Carter and Pamela returned. Each carried a brightly wrapped gift for the child. Addie shook her head. The entire night was becoming surreal.

The snow had stopped and even though it was the middle of the night, and since there were no rooms available, the visitors returned to Bath with a promise from Grayson that he would bring his family back home as soon as they were able.

The innkeeper’s wife insisted they stay in their bedroom until the next day when two rooms would become available. She and her husband were more than happy, the woman said, to sleep by the warm fireplace in the kitchen for the few hours left to the night.

About an hour after things had settled down, exhausted, but unable to sleep, Addie gazed at the face of her child tucked in between her and her sleeping husband on the bed. She ran her finger over the fuzz of the baby’s head, then glanced out the window. A lone bright star shone overhead in the sky, winking down at her.

No room at the inn.

A son is born

A lone star in the sky.

Three gifts

The end of a perfect—albeit very strange—night.