Bringing Home Christmas

by Vicki Hinze

  “If I’m not here, look for the mayor.”

  Lauren scooted between people, making her way out of the crowd. Liz Baker was holding a jar for her, and Lauren needed to get it before Liz sold it. Lauren had Caroline work out a deal for her and, while the terms settled on were steep, seeing that wonder and awe again would be worth it.

  It’d make a great memory.

  David opened Lauren’s phone and saw a message from himself. Curious, he clicked on it, and saw the text he’d sent her the night before their wedding, breaking off, telling her he wouldn’t be returning. His heart clenched in his chest. Why had she kept it all this time?

  Knowing Lauren, she’d listened to it often, trying to make sense of his actions. That would be just like her.

  He clicked over to voice mail and saw his own name again. Saw the voice mail he had left her days before sending the text. He listened to it, heard his joy at marrying her in a few days. The amazement he’d felt that of all the men in the world, she’d chosen to spend her life with him.

  Guilt and regret bore down on him. He had broken her heart.

  And his own.

  He closed voice mail and paused, his emotions churning at what could have been, what almost was, what they both had wanted…then. Did she still want those things? A life with him?

  She had kept the messages. Both of them. That had to mean something. But he doubted it meant that. How could she forgive him after what he’d done?

  But she had kept both messages.

  Why wouldn’t she have deleted them long ago? She sure as certain hadn’t needed a reminder of the heartache, or the risks of loving someone. He knew from experience, losing someone you love…you can’t forget it no matter how hard you try. So why had she kept them?

  He wanted to know. Not knowing why gnawed at him. Yet he had no right to ask. None. He’d forfeited asking anything from or of her with his handling of ending their relationship.

  But keeping them had to mean something. He worried his lip, stared into the fire. Was it possible? Could there be a chance? A glimmer of hope?

  Seeing her coming his way, he quickly dialed the mayor. They wrapped up their discussion just as she returned.

  The look in her eyes. Soft. Caring. The way she used to look at him.

  Maybe the glimmer was there. A spark of hope. If they had the courage to seek it. Did they?

  Did he?

  17

  December 22nd

  7:00 PM

  Something was different. It was in his eyes.

  David passed Lauren her phone. “Thanks.”

  The phone. The messages. Had he seen the messages?

  Her heart beat hard and fast. She strongly suspected that’s exactly what had inspired the change in him.

  Minutes passed, but he didn’t say anything about the messages, and there was no way she would bring them up. What would he think if he knew she’d revisited them every night, looking for answers in them she would never find?

  He’d think she’d lost her mind. That’s what he’d think. “Everything okay?”

  David glanced over at her with a gentleness she’d never seen in anyone else’s eyes on looking at her. A tenderness she hadn’t seen in such a long time. “The mayor…?” She prodded him.

  “Oh, the mayor. Everything’s fine. He just wanted to tell us the safety fence was a great idea.”

  “Good.” David wasn’t smiling. Neither could she. Something had changed. It had to be the messages. What else could it be?

  “Are you ready for that sleigh ride?” he asked.

  She nodded. “If we skip it, Bailey Adams will serve us cold food at Granny’s for weeks.”

  “Can’t risk that, considering I eat more often there than at home.”

  “Why?” she asked, as he hooked their arms and they walked to the sleigh ride. “You’re a great cook.”

  “It’s not as much fun as it once was,” he said.

  “You don’t like cooking anymore?” That surprised her.

  “Oh, no. I still love to cook.” He dropped his voice. “I just can’t stand to eat alone.”

  “I totally get that.” She sighed. “It gets old fast.”

  He grunted. “It’s the lack of good conversation. I just wolf down the food and get out of the kitchen as fast as I can.”

  “At least you make it to the kitchen,” she said. “I usually don’t.”

  “But you are eating?” Worry crossed his face. “Not just junk food.”

  “I eat. I just don’t enjoy it much anymore.” They’d had some of their best conversations ever over meals.

  “Remember our life, death and universe talks?” He looked away. “I loved those.”

  They had talked about everything and nothing—often at the same time. “Me, too.”

  “Whoa, Thirsty.” Bailey Adams tugged at the reins and stopped near the signpost. “I was wondering if you two would make it over here.” He pulled out a thermos and filled his cup. It smelled like hot chocolate.

  “You staying warm?” David guided Lauren into the sleigh then stepped up and sat down beside her.

  “Sure am. There’s a blanket for your knees.”

  Lauren reached for it, then draped it across their laps. “Got it, Bailey. Thanks.”

  With a click of his tongue, Bailey jiggled the reins, and Thirsty started off on the course.

  Soon, the singing voices faded, and the silence of the night surrounded them. Moonlight fell softly on the snow. Lauren sat close to David’s side. “I’d forgotten how beautiful it is out here. And how quiet.”

  “The quiet is why I came to Holt Ridge.”

  “I wondered about that. You were always at home in the city.”

  “I was until the injury,” he said, glancing off across a field. “After all the surgeries were behind me and the healing progressed beyond expectations, I needed a quiet place to reflect and recuperate. Holt Ridge seemed like the perfect place to heal.”

  “It is a slower pace, and a lot quieter,” she said. “When exactly was that?”

  He looked over at her. “About six months after you moved to Atlanta.” He paused, then added. “You weren’t living here anymore, so I didn’t think being here would interfere in your life.”

  “You always did love coming to the Ridge.”

  “I did. I still love it here.”

  The door to this conversation was finally open, and she was definitely walking through it. “So, you moved here and started your own business.”

  “I did.”

  “And it’s going well?” Over soup at Granny’s, he’d said he had staff all over the planet.

  “Exceeding expectations on all fronts. Easier to do when you hire great people.”

  “I can see where that would make all the difference.”

  “Lauren.” His tone went serious. “Full disclosure.” When she nodded, he continued. “I did know you weren’t living here anymore, but I also knew, with your mother and Caroline still here, you’d return sometime.”

  “Yet you came here anyway.”

  “I did.”

  “Why, David?”

  He hesitated a long time before answering. Anticipation built inside her. She knew the answer to this question would be significant. How? She had no idea, but it would matter.

  He clasped her hand in his. “Because I knew when you returned, you’d be bringing home Christmas.”

  “I don’t understand.” She didn’t dare read anything into his statement.

  “At Christmas, we return to the things we hold closest in our hearts.”

  A simple but powerful message she totally understood. “Home,” she said.

  He nodded, leaning close, as if about to kiss her. Their gazes locked and Lauren caught herself leaning toward him. This might be a mistake. Another regret.

  But it might not be. It might be glorious.

  The sleigh stopped abruptly, jarring them.

  Startled, Lauren looked over. They were stopped at the signpost. The ride was over.<
br />
  David put the blanket on the opposite seat. “Thanks, Bailey.”

  “Sure thing.” He looked back. “Well, did you two kiss?”

  “What?” David asked.

  Bailey lifted a hand. “I need to know. I’ve got a bet with Rory.”

  Lauren snickered. “How much is the bet?”

  Bailey blurted it out. “Five dollars and two jars of Liz Baker’s apple butter.”

  She pecked a kiss to David’s surprised lips. “You win.”

  “Well, all right!” Bailey laughed.

  David looked into her smiling eyes. “If Liz Baker’s apple butter is the best, and Bailey and Rory have five dollars on the line, we can do better than a peck.” He kissed her, and he did it right.

  18

  December 22nd

  9:00 PM

  Collective sighs from the group of twenty or so waiting in line for sleigh rides shattered the glow of their kiss and jerked Lauren back to reality fast. The kiss had been reminiscent of those they’d shared when he loved her, and that had her heart wrenching and her plastering a smile on her face. “That should get you the win, Bailey,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.”

  The crowd laughed and so did Bailey. “Thanks!” he said with real enthusiasm.

  David noted her emotional shift immediately and sobered.

  They left the ride, and as soon as they were out of earshot, she stopped and turned to him. “David, what are you doing? Why did you kiss me like that?”

  He frowned. “I did what you did. Made sure Bailey won the bet.”

  “That’s not what you did.”

  He slumped against his cane. Didn’t answer.

  “Look, maybe you don’t remember the difference in that kind of kiss, but I do. You owe me the truth, at least about that.”

  “You’re right, okay?” He sighed and looked over at her, his face shadowed by the moonlight filtering through the trees. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “What did you mean?” she asked. “Everyone here knows you walked out on me. Everyone. I was your mistake, remember?” A hard knot formed in her chest. “We were just getting past the stares and gawking, and now they’ll start all over again.”

  “Which is exactly why I did what I did.”

  “What?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “You want them to gawk and stare and whisper behind our backs?”

  He clasped her folded arms, let her see the truth in his eyes. “I wanted them to know that it was me. My fault. That you were blameless, and I still think you’re wonderful.” When her expression didn’t soften, he gazed off, then went on. “I know they gave you a hard time after…you know.”

  “You called off our wedding the night before it was to take place and disappeared.”

  “Yes.” He looked back at her.

  “By a stupid text message.”

  “That couldn’t be helped, but it’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “I know the people here thought it was your fault. We know it wasn’t. I did what I did, and I wanted them to know it wasn’t you.”

  It wasn’t her. Three haunted years of wondering, and he reveals that gem as if it is a small thing. “I know you don’t expect me to thank you.”

  “That’s the last thing I expect from you, Lauren,” he said. “I have no right to expect anything from you. I was just trying to put the blame for us on me. That’s where it belongs.” He looked her in the eye. “I promise.”

  That took the starch out of her spine, and the heat out of her voice. “Okay. I believe you, and I suppose I should be grateful that you wanted to do that for me, but I dealt with it all then and I’ll deal with the fallout from this, too.”

  “I am sorry I upset you.” He started walking. “We’re chaperones. We need to get back to check on the kids.”

  He was right, and the subject was closed. At least, for now. They walked back to the bonfire and joined the youth group. They seemed to be having a great time.

  Caroline appeared at Lauren’s side and passed her a jar. “Liz Baker says she squared this with Bailey, and he agreed to give up one jar for two out of next season’s apple crop. Don’t drop it or anything. She’s sold out and taking orders.”

  “Thanks, Caroline.” Lauren took the jar. “I went to pick it up, and she told me you’d already gotten it.”

  “Thought I better before someone else wheedled it out of her. Liz is vulnerable to sob stories. I’m heading home,” Caroline said. “I’ve had all the social stimulation I can take for one day.”

  “It was good of you to keep Rory in line,” Lauren said, then uncertainty crept into her voice. “He did stay in line and was civil to the kids, right?”

  “Wonderful with them,” she reassured her sister. “But I expect he’ll be talking about taking Hark home shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Caroline almost smiled before turning and walking away.

  She could be a great sister when she chose to be, and she had gone to a lot of trouble for Lauren. The jar in her hand felt heavy. Her heart wasn’t as light as it had been when they’d struck the deal.

  David’s laughter claimed her attention and Lauren walked back over to him. When a lull in the conversation permitted, she passed him the jar. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Apple butter.” He smiled. “Thank you, Lauren.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Do I dare to hope Liz Baker made this?”

  “You do, and she did.”

  “I tried to buy a jar, but she was sold out,” he said. “I’m third on the waiting list for next year.” He lifted an eyebrow. “How did you manage to get your hands on a jar?”

  Her face burned. She’d rather not disclose that, especially after the spat they’d had over his kiss, but it seemed she’d have no choice. He stood waiting, expecting an answer. “You know that peck of a kiss I gave you?”

  “Not likely to forget it.”

  “That was the fee for a jar.”

  He narrowed his eyes, but there was no anger in his voice. He was amused. “You are in so much trouble.”

  “I guess I am, but my intentions were good.”

  “So were mine, Lauren.”

  He wasn’t talking about the kiss. He was talking about more. Maybe the more she’d wondered about for the last three years.

  Someone tapped on her shoulder.

  Lauren turned and saw Barbara Pope. “May I borrow you for a moment?”

  “Of course.” Lauren welcomed the interruption and stepped away with Barbara. She’d had enough emotional turmoil for one day, especially with David. “Do you need something?”

  “I’m information gathering to report to your mother. You know she’s curious about everything going on here, and I don’t want her feeling left out.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  Barbara flipped a hand. “Nothing she hasn’t done for the shut-ins for years.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Her mother never ceased to amaze Lauren.

  “I expect there’s a lot you don’t know, which brings me to why I interrupted you and David.”

  “No interruption.”

  She stiffened, but kept her thoughts on that to herself. “Has David told you yet what happened—before your wedding?”

  “What do you mean?” Surely, she didn’t mean what Lauren thought she did.

  “Did he tell you why he called off the wedding?” Barbara asked, being even more blunt.

  “You know why he called off the wedding?” Lauren answered with a question of her own. Barbara Pope meant exactly what Lauren thought she meant.

  She studied Lauren’s expression. “Um, never mind. I can tell by the look on your face, he hasn’t told you yet.” She clasped Lauren’s upper arm. “Maybe you want to give him a little nudge on that, sweetie.”

  “A nudge?”

  Barbara nodded. “Just to be honest, Kenneth and I have a little wager.” She dipped her chin. “You know w
e’ve always seen you and David as a younger version of us and our relationship.”

  “You’ve mentioned it.” About a thousand times. “If I may ask, what’s the wager?”

  “I think David still loves you. Kenneth says it doesn’t matter. You’ll never give him a second chance.”

  Lauren rolled her gaze. “Loves me?” She guffawed. “Barbara, David doesn’t even know me anymore.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you’re wrong about that,” Barbara assured her. “David knows far more than you think…and if you don’t know that, you know far less than you ought to know.”

  “I can’t dispute that, but…”

  She patted Lauren’s arm. “Just give him a little nudge. Encourage him just a wee little bit.”

  Loves her? The woman had her feet in the clouds, engaging in a fanciful dream Lauren couldn’t afford. She had to keep both feet firmly on the ground. “I can’t do that.”

  She laughed. “Of course, you can.”

  From behind Barbara came all-too-familiar shouts. “Baxter!”

  “What has that rascal gotten into now?” Wide-eyed, Barbara spun and took off toward the shouts at her mischievous mutt.

  An hour later, the last of the kids was dropped off at his home and shortly thereafter Lauren pulled to the curb at David’s. “There you go.”

  “Thanks,” he said, lifting his cane. “And thanks again for this.” He tucked the jar of apple butter into his coat pocket. “See you tomorrow at the dance.”

  “I’ll be there.” She smiled. “Good night.”

  He got out, shut the door and walked up the stairs to his entry door. He was dragging his leg, not limping. He’d definitely overdone it today.

  He waved and went inside.

  Lauren drove on home, their conversations replaying in her mind.

  Their conversations, and their kisses.

  19

  December 23rd

  8:00 AM