by Olivia Miles
Holly visibly paled. The light disappeared from her eyes. “Because of work?”
Max shook his head. “I love my work. My work has filled my life with purpose. But that’s not the reason.”
“Then what is?”
“I don’t believe in family,” he said, realizing as he spoke the words that he had never articulated his feelings so concisely. I don’t believe in family. Was it even true? For years he clung to this belief, but something about being here with Holly these past few days, confiding in her, listening to her, laughing with her, made him start to wonder.
Holly’s jaw set. She folded her hands across her chest. “Well, that’s really sad.”
Max gave a casual shrug, feeling like a callous bastard. He could see the contempt in Holly’s eyes, the hurt and pain he was causing her. It was better this way, he told himself. Better for him to end it like this, to let her go. It would make it easier when the truth came out. She wouldn’t be so blindsided.
He wasn’t the man she thought he was. Maybe he wasn’t the man he’d led her to believe he was.
His chest tightened with realization. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be, either.
“Holly—” His voice was firm, his heart was pounding. He was going to tell her. Now.
“I should probably go tend to some things,” she interrupted coolly. “Let me know if you need anything.” She refused to meet his eye as she pushed through the kitchen door, leaving it swinging in her wake.
For a long time after she left, Max sat stone-faced at the counter, staring out the window onto the serene landscape that, in a few months’ time, would be paved with cement.
There was no alternative other than to give up all his plans and live happily ever after with Holly. And that was never going to happen.
The ringing of his cell phone pulled him from his rambling thoughts. With a skip of his pulse he retrieved it from his pocket. He recognized the number from the call display as George Miller’s. And he knew before he even answered what the verdict would be.
Chapter Ten
Holly pressed her palms against her eyes as hot tears spilled down her face and soaked the white eyelet shams of her feather pillows.
She knew she had no right to cry. The warning signs were all there. She had seen them all along; it was everyone else who was telling her otherwise. But she wanted to give Max a chance. She wanted to have some hope. She wanted to believe.
What a fool she had been.
Finally dragging herself into a sitting position, Holly glanced at her watch. She had work to do to prepare for the New Year’s guests, and she couldn’t spend half the day crying over this man who she wouldn’t ever see again after Christmas. Oh, if only he would leave sooner, she suddenly wished.
Holly crossed to her bathroom, splashed water on her face and ran a brush through her hair, trying to perk up, even though his words still haunted her. How callous could he be? To just shut down any chance of something they could have had only minutes after she had poured her heart out to him.
She never talked about her parents’ death. To anyone! Sure, Abby knew. And Lucy and George. A handful of others, of course. But other than that, it was something she had locked in a box and tucked away somewhere deep inside her. It was easier that way, somehow. Not thinking about her painful past was her only way of plodding through each day and looking forward, not back. But then Max had gone and spilled his own story to her, and she felt so instantly bonded to him, so close in the trust he had put in her, that she had just reflexively done the same.
And the strange part was that it had felt good to talk to him about it. To let him see a side of her she didn’t reveal very often, not merely the woman who smiled and charmed her guests every day as she worked at the inn. The real Holly.
The Holly he clearly had no desire to get to know any better.
She just didn’t understand it. Why had he bothered being so open with her last night if he didn’t feel something for her? She had known all along, of course, that he was only in town for a few days, that he wasn’t here to change his entire life around, but the rest...
I don’t believe in family. His words echoed again and again. It was worse than she had even thought. It was one thing to be married to your work like Brendan had been. But to keep the world at arm’s reach—to be so cold and alienating—was entirely a different matter.
Holly lifted her chin and studied her reflection. If Max Hamilton thought he could waltz into town, have a little fun with her, and then waltz back out, he was sadly mistaken.
He had picked the wrong woman for that. Holly didn’t do flings.
She believed in family.
Well, forget him, she decided.
Holly plucked a tube of lip gloss from a drawer and swiped it over her mouth, but it did little to help. Her eyes were swollen and glistening. Her cheeks blotchy and red. She realized that she hadn’t seen herself like this in longer than she could remember. Not since...
Something in her stomach twisted. Maybe she wasn’t the only one keeping people at arm’s reach. It was the only way to keep from getting hurt. From going through this. She had protected herself for years from moments just like this, steeling herself from the possibility of more pain. In many ways, Max wasn’t much different. Was it worth it?
Holly felt her anger subside. A strange calm came over her, leaving her with nothing but a heavy lump of sadness in her already aching heart.
With everything he had been through, could she really blame him for feeling the way he did?
She shook her head and flicked off the bathroom light. Regardless of his reasons, he was who he was. And Max was not a family man.
And that meant that he was not the man for her.
* * *
Keeping busy, Holly had learned, got her through the tough times, and today was no exception. She spent the morning organizing the activity list for New Year’s Eve, and going over her receipts for the month. Max’s car was gone, and before he had a chance to return, Holly decided to use the opportunity to visit Abby. The roads were manageable and she could use a friendly face right now.
Abby was already waiting on her front porch by the time Holly’s snow tires ground to a halt on the shoveled driveway. She stood hugging her thick wool cardigan against her frame, her expression a mix of surprise, concern, and curiosity.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Abby said.
Holly forced a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first,” she said.
“Oh, please. You know you don’t need to bother with that.” Abby folded an arm around Holly’s shoulders and led her up the stairs to the porch and into the warm comfort of her cottage.
“I was just sitting by the window working on my knitting when I saw your car pull up,” Abby said. She pulled the door closed behind them and guided Holly over to the couch. “Pete’s at work so you don’t need to worry about anyone interrupting. It’s just us girls.”
Holly sighed. “I’m sorry. You must be wondering what’s going on.”
“Let me guess,” Abby said. “Is it Max?”
Holly looked around the room, wondering just why she had allowed herself to get this upset about someone she barely knew. But see, that was the thing. He had let her get close. After last night, she felt like she did know him.
Guess I was wrong, she thought bitterly.
“I was right about him after all,” she said to Abby with a watery smile. “Or, maybe you were.”
Abby’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, I was right?”
“When you came and warned me this morning,” Holly said.
“Did he say something to you about that? About his talk with the mayor, I mean?”
Holly shook her head. “No. I still don’t know what that was all about.”
Abby’s face softened. She
picked up a pair of bamboo knitting needles and wrapped a strand of thick, hunter green wool around one tip. “Sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes. “But I planned to make this sweater for Pete before Christmas and time is running out. I can’t exactly work on it when he’s home.”
“Got any spare yarn?” Holly asked.
Abby handed her a ball of pink wool from her basket under the coffee table. She fished around for a spare pair of needles. “This will make you feel better,” she said.
“Thanks,” Holly said, managing a small smile. She randomly casted on a few stitches, the softness of the wool on her fingertips instantly soothing her frayed nerves.
“So what exactly happened?” Abby asked, glancing up from her project.
Holly shrugged. “It’s just what I said. I was right about him all along. He doesn’t want a relationship. He isn’t that kind of guy.”
Abby studied her. “But you only just met him. Maybe in time...”
Holly stopped her. She knew better than to reach for hope that wasn’t there. “He was pretty clear about it. He has no intention of getting married.”
Abby frowned. “He said that?”
Holly paused, recalling the exact hurtful, horrible words. “He didn’t have to. He said he doesn’t believe in family.”
“What?” Abby gasped.
“That’s what he said,” Holly repeated. “I don’t believe in family.”
Abby’s brown eyes widened, her knitting paused. “Wow,” she said, lowering her gaze. She wrapped the yarn over the bamboo stick and pulled it through a few more times, shaking her head. “That’s...”
“Horrible?” Holly finished. She gave a feeble smile when she met Abby’s stare.
“Yes. Horrible.” Abby furrowed her brow as she worked on the sweater. When she finished another row, she quietly set her knitting on her lap and looked at Holly. “But why would he say such a thing? There has to be a reason.”
Holly gave a reluctant sigh. “Well, I suppose there is.”
“Hold that thought,” Abby announced, standing up. “I have a feeling we’re in for a long chat and I don’t know about you, but I need some hot chocolate. With a splash of something to take the edge off.”
Holly managed her first real smile since Max’s announcement and settled back against the chenille throw pillows while Abby disappeared into the kitchen. The couch was positioned against a large picture window looking out over the front stretch of lawn where Abby had stuck a plastic Santa and his reindeer.
“Tacky, aren’t they? But I couldn’t resist,” Abby said as she came back into the room. She smiled out the window before handing Holly a steaming mug of cocoa generously heaped with whipped cream.
“Yum,” Holly said, perking up.
“We were out of marshmallows. Sorry.” Abby blew on her cocoa and then, deciding to let it sit and cool, returned it to the table. She curled her feet under her on the couch and said, “Okay, so tell me everything.”
Holly hesitated. She sensed that Max’s childhood was something he had harbored close and shared with few people. She frowned when she considered that he had felt comfortable opening up to her.
She gave Abby a brief recount of the past few days, leaving out the details of Max’s past that he had trusted her with, and ending with Max’s hardened proclamation.
“I just don’t think he wants the same things that I do,” Holly finished.
Abby pursed her lips. “But you like him, Holly, I know you do. Maybe there’s still a chance.”
Holly thought about this. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. Even that flicker of hope she had just felt was enough to remind her of how much she stood to lose. Max had stood his ground. Now it was time to move on.
Abby reached for her mug and took a slow sip. “Maybe he just needs time.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it, either. He’s been alone for a long time, you figure. I think he prefers it that way.”
Abby shook her head. “What a shame. A man that looks like that...” She blew out a breath. “Seriously, though, all joking aside, I know that I was a little wary of him this morning, but he seems like a really nice guy from everything you’ve told me, Holly.”
“I know!” Holly cried, desperation filling her chest. “That’s what’s so frustrating!”
“I still don’t understand what led to this big statement on his part. What happened after I left? Did he just blurt out that he didn’t want a family?”
Holly chuckled. “No. Of course not.”
“Then what?” Abby asked, getting impatient.
Holly slumped against the pillows and skimmed her eyes over the room. “He was asking me what I wanted out of life, and so I asked him the same.”
Was that how the conversation had begun? Holly chewed the corner of her lip. Somehow this didn’t seem so dire when she said it aloud. “He asked if I intended to run the inn for the rest of my life.”
Abby was looking at her with round eyes and a telling smile. “Let me guess? You said you did.”
“Of course. Maple Woods is my home. You know how much that inn means to me”
“Would you be open to leaving Maple Woods if you could have that family you want so much somewhere else?” Abby asked shrewdly.
Holly already knew the answer and it terrified her more than she wished it did. She loved Maple Woods. But if leaving meant she could have those things... “I want to get married. I want to have children. But I want to live in Maple Woods. In my house. My family’s house. It’s all I have left.”
Abby sighed. “I just don’t want to see you throwing away a good thing because you aren’t ready to give up some of your creature comforts.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you have been holed up in that inn for so long that you don’t even know how to get out there and live a little. You are far too young to live like that, Holly,” Abby said. “You’ve built this cozy little nest for yourself and filled it with lots of strangers. But you haven’t stopped to open yourself up to something real. And lasting. So how are you ever going to even find the one thing you really want the most?”
The words stung, jolting her to reality. She knew it was true. She knew what she had done. But she liked the safety and comfort of the life she had created for herself. Perhaps too much... “I should talk to him. We have had a few nice days together. ”
Abby nodded. “I think you should.”
But something still remained true. “But he doesn’t want the things I do. He doesn’t want a family, Abby. Not in Maple Woods. Not in New York. Not anywhere.”
“Maybe he felt rejected!” Abby said. She adjusted her expression and muttered, “The male ego is a fragile thing, Holly.”
Holly wasn’t persuaded. “No, it isn’t his ego. I think it has something to do with his own family.” Her heart feeling heavy as realization formed. “His own family hasn’t been around in a long time. Maybe—”
“Maybe he’s afraid of people leaving him? Of getting close?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow. “My, my. Doesn’t that sound familiar.”
Holly gave her a dirty look.
“Where is he now?” Abby inquired.
Holly lifted her hands. “I have no idea. He’s probably still working out his business dealings.”
“He still hasn’t told you any more about that?”
“No. Should he?”
Abby pinched her brows. “Huh.”
“Abby!”
Abby burst out laughing and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in apology. “I’m sorry, Holly. I’m awful. I just can’t help but think it’s strange that he has all this urgent business in town three days before Christmas. In Maple Woods of all places.”
Holly chuckled. “It is bizarre. I know. But it’s harmless, I’m
sure. He said he’s in real estate.”
“Real estate?” Abby repeated. “Well, that’s boring.”
“I know,” Holly said wryly.
“And here I was hoping he was a federal agent or a fugitive or something. Well, I’m sure that I was overreacting about his conversation with Mayor Pearson, then.” Abby sighed “Besides, whatever he does for business really doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s two separate matters.”
Holly realized she was right.
“Sit and stay a little longer. Calm down. Think about what you want to say. And then go back to that inn and talk to him before he’s gone and it’s too late.”
Holly considered this tactic, and realized this is exactly what she needed to hear. “I guess it can’t hurt to talk to him once more.”
“If he’s anything like the guy I talked to yesterday, he probably feels terrible. He likes you, Holly. I know he does. And that’s why I’m telling you that this one is worth fighting for. If he still walks away after you talk, then let him go. But not yet.”
Holly nodded and picked back up her knitting needles. Not yet.
* * *
Max sat in his rental car outside Maple Woods’s biggest pub, The Corner Tap, for over an hour after he had left the Millers’ cottage. He left the car running to keep the heat blasting. The radio station crackled over the speakers. The reception was poor, but it was the only channel not playing Christmas carols, so he was willing to put up with a little static.
The signed contract sat beside him on the passenger seat, a quiet reminder of what he had done and what he was about to do. The Millers had agreed. George had signed. Lucy had been too tearful to do anything but hide in the bedroom. Bobby, at least, had been gone. At another friend’s house, presumably.
Even though Max had once hoped they would sign, somehow now that they had, he was left with the burning wish that he had never approached them at all. That he had taken one look at Holly’s sweet face and just let the whole matter of the property drop.
But he hadn’t done that. And now it was only a matter of hours before Holly would learn the truth. The horrible, awful truth about why he had come to Maple Woods. And why he had stayed.
