Courting Holly by Lynn A. Coleman Page A

they have you use John’s name. How do you feel about it?”
    “On the one hand, I’m happy that my father wouldn’t give me up for adoption to John. On the other hand, I feel even more confused as to why my mother and stepfather chose to keep this information from me for so long. I’ve been an adult for a couple of years now. Most of my girlfriends from school are already married, and half of them are with child or have one. Why couldn’t they see me as an adult?”
    “Because they are parents, and parents never quite see their children as adults. I received my first inkling of that the other day from my father. He treated and spoke to me as if I were an adult for the first time ever, a truly wonderful and unique experience. However, I am twenty-three, I lived on my own for four years and have run the plantation for two.”
    “You are probably right.” She sighed and reclined against the back of the bench seat.
    “I have seen it with my mother and grandmother, as well,” he continued. “When my grandmother arrives for an extended visit, she treats my mother like she is still a child, instructing her in the best way to do this or that. It is not as though my mother does not already know how to run a household. She’s been doing that for twenty-five years. Even so, Grandmother feels this need to instruct her grown children. Mother tends to be patient about it, but I have seen her roll her eyes heavenward a few times.”
    Holly chuckled. “My grandmother is much the same. My mother, however, was a bit more outspoken than yours.”
    “Your mother? No, that is not possible.” Bryce chuckled.
    Holly swatted him on the shoulder.
    “And I know who will be the same.”
    The joyful moment melted away. “I’ll never have those moments with my mother, will I?”
    Bryce reached over and placed his hand over hers. “No, I suppose you will not. I am sorry.”
    Fresh tears welled in her eyes as grief bubbled to the surface. She glanced away and looked at the Savannah River. She pictured herself on a gondola floating down its silver current, away from the pain and into the unknown.

Chapter 6
    H olly clutched the bundle of letters. All were addressed via Lloyd Jarvis. She noted the dates they were received, which spanned years. She understood Bryce’s father’s legal responsibility not to give them to her until the appointed time, but she still wished he had broken protocol. Holly’s mind and arms were full as she and Bryce headed down toward the river and west of the city to the spot where his friend said he docked.
    “Ahoy, Henry!” Bryce called out.
    A man looking very dapper in his sailor blues and white shirt popped his head out of the makeshift cabin. “You came. I didn’t expect to see you. Is this the damsel in distress?” He stepped from the boat to the dock with the confident stride that came from one familiar with working on the water.
    “Henry, this is my good friend Holly Landers. Holly, this is Henry Rushton, a bit of a scallywag and scoundrel.” Bryce winked at Holly.
    It seemed odd to hear Bryce use her real last name, and yet it felt right. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rushton.”
    “Call me Henry. Everyone does. Besides, I don’t cotton to the Southern formalities. Well, not all of them. I do know how to treat a lady, however. May I assist you and invite you to a tour of my boat, Miss Landers?”
    She took his proffered hand and stepped down from the buggy. Bryce found his place right beside her. He’s protective. Holly noted to keep this smooth talker at arm’s length. “I would be honored to investigate your fine vessel, Mr. Rushton.”
    “Henry, please. Come on, Bryce, give the little woman the freedom.”
    “It is her choice. Holly has always had a mind of her own.”
    “Ah, I do believe you’ve told me that in the past. You, however, neglected to tell me how beautiful this woman is. If you had, I would have come much sooner and swept her away from you.”
    Bryce narrowed