Ethan had no idea if Winnie and her friends could continue on with this much energy and enthusiasm as everyone had shown tonight. If they could, he had no doubt Christmas at Holiday House would become the most talked about seasonal event in this region of Colorado.
The house sparkled. Everywhere one looked, beautiful holiday touches added to the mood of warmth and welcome in the house. Abby had truly outdone herself.
He looked around to tell her so but couldn’t spot her in the crowd. She must have slipped away during the singing.
On a hunch, he rose himself and carried his cup and plate into the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised when he found Abby washing dishes there, Christopher standing on a stool and helping her by drying. The sight warmed something deep inside.
He stood for a moment, watching the two of them interact. She was laughing at something Christopher had said while a strand of wavy auburn hair slipped free from the updo she wore.
The sight made him ache, aware of a flurry of emotions inside that he didn’t know how to process.
Christopher was the first one to spot him. The boy must have seen Ethan out of the corner of his gaze. He almost dropped the cup he was holding but managed to catch it in time before setting it in the drainer, hopping down and rushing to hug him.
“Ethan! Hi!”
“Hey, bud.” He hugged him back, warmed by the fond reception. Abby gave him a quick smile but turned back to the sink.
He wanted to hug her, too.
“How did you like the hot cocoa?” Christopher asked eagerly. “I helped put the snowflake marshmallows in. I had to wear a glove and everything.”
“It was fantastic. I particularly enjoyed the snowflake marshmallows. I can honestly say it was the best hot cocoa I have had in forever.”
He didn’t add that it was also the only hot cocoa he’d had in forever.
“Did you like the cookies? I did. I ate four.”
Abby made a strangled sound.
“They were delicious. What kind were your favorite?”
“Snickerdoodles,” the boy said promptly. “I love them the most.”
“I totally agree,” he said, which earned him a broad smile.
“We made snickerdoodles once. I helped roll the dough into balls before we dipped them into cinnamon sugar. I had to wash my hands about a billion minutes until they were clean enough to do the cookies.”
“A billion minutes. That’s a lot.”
“Yeah. My mom always makes me wash my hands a lot because she’s a nurse. She says lots of germs live on boys’ hands.”
“Sounds like good advice.” Ethan’s gaze met Abby’s. She gave him a rueful look, and he thought he saw color climb her cheeks.
“Did you enjoy the first ever Christmas at Holiday House?” she asked.
“I did. I didn’t know what to expect, but I found it a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Do you know, I’ve been coming to Holiday House my entire life and thought I knew everything about the history of the place and the people who lived here. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I had no idea the caretaker’s wife during my great-great-grandfather’s time had all four of her children on the kitchen table. I’m not sure I ever want to eat here again.”
When Abby Powell laughed, she looked as bright and vibrant as the star on top of that giant Christmas tree in the great room, and it took all his self-control not to kiss her right there in front of her son.
“Now that you’ve experienced it yourself, tell me the truth. Do you think the evening was worth the cost of the ticket?”
“Definitely. It was basically the cost of a movie ticket and a bowl of popcorn. And for that, they received a delightful evening filled with music, history and holiday cheer.”
“Good point. I know Sofia and the others were worried about that part. I’ll pass along what you said.”
He really had to stop staring at her. Ethan forced his attention away, toward the sudsy water in the sink.
“Can I help in here? I don’t mind washing or drying.”
“You can dry,” Christopher said quickly, handing over his dish towel so quickly Ethan barely caught it before the boy rushed away and headed toward the kitchen table, where it looked like he had been building something with Legos.
Abby shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t have to, really. I’m almost done. I can dry what’s left.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But your shirt will get wet.”
“It will dry. I’m not worried.” Ethan stepped over to the sink and reached for the dishes in the rinse water.
The two of them worked together in a companionable silence for a few moments. The scene felt strangely familiar. It took Ethan a moment to remember they had done this only a few weeks earlier, on Thanksgiving.
Had she and Christopher really only been in his life since then? He felt as if he had known them forever. When he tried to remember his world before they were in it, he had a hard time making the pieces fit together.
The scent of her mingled with the lemony smell from the soap. It was clean, honest, intoxicating. He wanted to draw it deep into his lungs and try to remember this moment forever.
“The grounds looked so wonderful. Thank you so much for stepping in today with your crew. You must have given up half a day at work, but I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t. You truly saved the day.”
“My pleasure,” he said gruffly. He meant the words. He had enjoyed the morning of working with his hands more than he had anything in a long time. It was sometimes easy to forget the simple satisfaction of encountering a problem and solving it through sheer hard work.
“It meant the world to your grandmother, as well. She had to fight tears today every time she talked about it.”
“It was one small thing I could do.”
“You know it wasn’t small to her. It made all the difference.”
He would have cleared away a hundred trees to earn that look in Abby’s eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Have you given more thought to letting me take Christopher and you skiing?”
She laughed as she rinsed the final dish in the sink. “I had a nightmare last night about falling out of a ski gondola. So yes, you could say I’ve given it more thought. Or at least my subconscious has.”
“Do you really think I would let you fall?”
Her gaze met his and the moment seemed to stretch out between them, heavy with things unsaid.
He needed to kiss her. He could no longer deny the hunger. It would only take a shift of his body, an angle of his head. He started to move and saw her eyes flicker with heat. Her lips parted. An instant before his mouth would have connected with hers, the door opened and Emily Tsu, who owned a bakery in town, bustled in, carrying a tray.
She stopped in the doorway as if she sensed she had been interrupting something.
“Um. Sorry. I just need to refill the shortbread. Apparently, that’s a popular choice tonight.”
“They go well with cocoa, I guess,” Abby said in a voice that sounded slightly strangled.
“Right. I’ll have to make sure I bring more of those for tomorrow.” Emily gestured to the sink. “You’re not supposed to be washing dishes. That’s my job. It’s part of the whole caterer gig.”
“I don’t mind washing a few dishes. You’ve had a long day on your feet already.”
Emily blew her a kiss. “You are a doll. Thank you.”
She refilled the plate with more shortbread cookies from one of her bakery boxes on the counter and then hurried back out of the kitchen.
Ethan tried not to be annoyed at the interruption. It was probably for the best. Anyone could have walked in on him kissing Abby.
“She’s been so good,” Abby said. “All the Silver Belles have. This event means so much to them. They are so excited about being able to hel
p build the adaptive ski lodge at the resort.”
“It will be a big asset to the community.”
Abby gave him a sidelong look. “Winnie finally told me your family has donated the land for a lodge. What a kind gesture.”
He shrugged, embarrassed, as always, to talk about the philanthropic activities of his family’s business. “It’s a small thing we can do for a good cause.”
“Not small at all, from what I understand,” she said softly.
“Hey, Ethan, come see my mountain,” Christopher commanded.
Grateful for the diversion, he dried the final saucer and slipped it into the cabinet, then headed over to the table.
“That looks great,” he said.
Christopher had jumbled together Legos from a box that had probably been Ethan’s to create a multicolored mountain.
“That’s a person on a sled.” Christopher pointed to a mini figure on an improvised blue sled. “It’s not very good.”
“I think you did an excellent job.”
“I wanted to make a tubing hill, but couldn’t find any round bricks for the tubes so I made it a sled.”
“Good substitution.”
“He’s had a lot of fun with what Winnie says are your old toys. Thank you for letting him use them.”
“I am glad someone can find a use for them. I spent a lot of enjoyable hours building sets.”
Christopher yawned suddenly, and Abby set down the cloth she was using to wipe down the table.
“We need to get you to bed. It’s an hour past your bedtime.”
“But I don’t want to go to bed,” Christopher informed her in a matter-of-fact tone. “Can’t I stay up until the people go home?”
“This was the last tour for the night, honey. But guess what? They’ll happen again tomorrow. We get to do it all over again.”
“Can I have four more cookies tomorrow?”
She smiled and shook her head. “With all these cookies every night, we’re both going to be as big as a barn. We won’t be able to fit into our car to drive back to Arizona.”
Ethan didn’t like the reminder that they would be leaving soon and neither did Christopher, at least judging by his sudden scowl.
Abby ignored her son’s expression. “Come on. Time for a bath and then bed.”
Christopher cocked his head, looking crafty suddenly. “Can Ethan read me my story?”
“Me?”
The boy nodded. “We’re reading all the Christmas stories. Winnie told me some of them were yours and my friend Lucy’s.”
“That’s right. Lucy is my sister.”
“I like all your stories. You can even pick what we read.”
Abby didn’t look thrilled at that idea. “Honey, Ethan has been here all evening after working all day out in Winnie’s yard after the storm. I bet he would like to go home today. Maybe he can read to you another night.”
“I don’t mind,” Ethan said quickly.
“Yay! I’ll get into my pajamas fast.” He raced off in a blur.
Abby sighed. “You really don’t have to read to him. He will understand if you change your mind and decide to go home.”
“Why are you so convinced I don’t want to do things? First drying the dishes, now reading to Christopher. You might be surprised at the many things I can accomplish in a day.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised at all. But most of those likely don’t include indulging a boy you hardly know. You’re the CEO of Lancaster Hotels. No doubt you pay people to tell other people to tell other people to do things like dry the dishes.”
Did she hold his job against him? He couldn’t tell by her tone. “I learned early that I can’t ask anybody who works for me to do something I’m not willing to do myself. I’ve worked in all areas of the hotel, including spending a few days in housekeeping. It makes good business sense. I ask everyone in management to be familiar with everyone else’s job. How can I expect them to know how to manage people if they don’t know what benefit those people provide to the company?”
“That sounds like a smart business model. I wish more hospital administrators could work with patients for a day so they could remember our job isn’t about counting tongue depressors but about helping people heal.”
He would like to see her in action. Judging by the care she took of Winnie, he could only surmise that Abby Powell was a dedicated, passionate nurse.
Before he could say so, Christopher barreled back into the kitchen holding a stack of books. “I washed my face and brushed my teeth and I’m all ready for a story now.”
Ethan tousled his hair, looking forward to the next few minutes more than he had anything else all day.
“Great. Lead the way.”
* * *
Abby stood in the doorway of Christopher’s bedroom, listening to Ethan reading in an animated voice one of their own books, one of Christopher’s favorites, about a reindeer named Snowball who ended up saving Christmas.
Who would have guessed that a busy, important executive like Ethan could be so patient with a little boy who was well on his way to developing hero worship for him?
She thought of her impression of Ethan the first time they had met—of an arrogant, hard man who wanted to put his grandmother into assisted living for his own convenience.
First impressions rarely showed the entire picture, which seemed to be an important life lesson she needed to learn over and over again.
During the past few weeks, she had discovered that Ethan was a man of strength and character who cared about his family, his business, his community.
She was fiercely drawn to him, though she knew it was foolish and she was bound to get her heart broken.
“‘Christmas bells rang out through the night, pure and sweet. In the reindeer barn beneath the brightest star, Snowball stretched out in the hay and finally closed his eyes and let the bells sing him to sleep, knowing he had helped the world find peace.’”
“The end,” Christopher said sleepily.
“The end,” Ethan agreed, closing the book. “That’s a great story.”
“It’s my favorite. I like all the Snowball books. And the movie. Maybe you could read me another one tomorrow.”
Ethan clearly didn’t know how to answer that suggestion, so Abby stepped in.
“Ethan doesn’t live here, remember? He lives in his own house. He’s only visiting his grandmother tonight for the holiday celebration.”
“You said we were doing it again tomorrow. So why can’t Ethan come back and read to me again?”
“We’ll see,” she said, which was the standard parental cop-out when she didn’t have the energy for another argument. For now, it worked with her five-year-old son, but she suspected the efficacy would diminish over time.
“It’s time for lights out now. Good night, sweetheart. I love you to the moon and back.”
“I love you to Pluto and back,” he retorted, as he had been doing since learning that the planets were much farther away than the moon and that Pluto was the farthest planet in the solar system.
She smiled and kissed his forehead, feeling that familiar marvel in her heart that this little miracle was hers.
“Can Jingles sleep with me?” he asked hopefully, the same question he had asked just about every night since he’d learned to talk.
“No.” She gave the same answer she always did. “You know he likes to wander at night. He’ll wake you up.”
She scooped up the cat, gave her son another kiss on the forehead and then turned off his light. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Christopher nodded sleepily, his eyes already closing.
“How does he go out so fast?” Ethan asked, wonder in his voice after they walked out into the small sitting room connected to their bedroom.
“One of life’s biggest mysteries,” she answer
ed. “I wish I had that gift. His father used to be the same way. When Kevin was a resident, he could sleep anywhere, anytime.”
“I’ve heard medical residencies can be rough.”
“I can confirm that. It didn’t help that I became pregnant right after Kevin started his. We were so lucky Christopher was a good baby.”
That had been such a joyful time, she remembered now, their life overflowing with possibilities.
She missed many things about her husband, but she grieved most knowing he would never have the chance to watch Christopher grow into a kind, curious, incredible little human.
“Thank you for reading to him,” she said now to Ethan. “You’ve made quite an impression. I’ve never seen him take to someone so fast.”
“I enjoyed it,” Ethan said. “He’s a great kid. He obviously has a good mother.”
She couldn’t have said exactly why, maybe because her emotions were already on edge from the long, tumultuous day, but his words seemed to trigger tears.
Most days, she didn’t feel like a good mother. She felt frazzled, tired, anxious, impatient. She worried she couldn’t provide everything her son needed to grow into the sort of admirable man his father had been.
“Thanks,” she managed, praying he didn’t see the tear that had slipped out before she could prevent it.
No such luck. His gaze sharpened and he angled his head down. “Are you crying?”
She lifted her chin. “No. I must have gotten glitter in my eyes. That stuff is everywhere this time of year, have you noticed?”
He hesitated for a moment, then pulled her into his arms. Abby froze, knowing she shouldn’t be here, that letting him any closer would only result in more pain down the line, but his arms were warm and provided as much peace and comfort as Snowball the reindeer found in his bed of hay.
Oh, how she needed peace and comfort right now. She sagged against him, a little sob escaping. His arms tightened around her and she rested her cheek on his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat and drawing strength from him.
Christmas at Holiday House Page 17
