“I’m sure you’re right,” she said.
He looked as if he wanted to say something but seemed to change his mind at the last moment. “Well, good luck with the gingerbread house. I’ll be rooting for Team Christopher.”
“Thanks.”
The moment he walked away, a crowd seemed to converge around him. It was obvious as she saw him here among others in town that Ethan was well liked and well respected. She wouldn’t have expected anything else, she thought. She certainly liked him and respected him.
“I saw that.”
Abby looked away from Ethan’s retreating back to find Mariah watching her, a speculative look in her eyes.
“Saw what?” Abby tried to sound innocent.
“You told me there was nothing going on between you and Ethan. That didn’t look like nothing.”
She could feel herself blush and knew instantly that Mariah noticed that, too. “Ethan has become a friend over the past few weeks. That’s all.”
“Honey, I wish I had a friend who looks at me like he looks at you.”
“You’re imagining things.”
Mariah just gave her husky laugh and went back to helping her son. The other woman was someone else she would miss when she went to Austin.
Abby had made many cherished friends in the few short weeks she had been here. The Silver Belles had embraced her as an honorary member despite her lack of singing skills.
Perhaps she ought to try to join some other kind of group like this when she moved. If one didn’t exist, she could always start it.
Somehow Austin no longer held the appeal it once did. She would find her enthusiasm again, she told herself. It was only a matter of time.
* * *
How had one woman and her son managed to become so very important to him in only a few weeks’ time?
As Ethan made the rounds of the ballroom, greeting friends and neighbors and guests of the hotel who had decided to join in the fun, his attention seemed to constantly shift back to the other side of the ballroom, toward Abby and Christopher.
He couldn’t quite believe they had only been part of his life since Thanksgiving.
She was leaving soon. Christmas Eve was only four days away. Winnie had told him, rather tearfully, that they would be leaving the day after Christmas.
They had less than a week together.
Already, his world seemed a little more gray when he thought about them leaving.
“Ethan! I wondered if I would see you here today.”
Jolted from his thoughts, he turned toward a table where a group of women were working on a gingerbread house built around an “Under the Sea” theme, apparently.
It took him a moment to place the woman who had called out to him. Her name was Cora Parker and she was a cousin to Brooke, his former fiancée.
She was married to a police officer in the next town over, he remembered. In the year of his engagement, he and Brooke had attended two or three of the same social occasions with Cora and her husband.
“Cora. Hi. Nice to see you again. Your team’s creation is looking great.”
“This is my bunco club. We did this last year and had so much fun, we decided to come again.”
“It looks good. I like the octopus there.”
“Thank you.”
She took a step toward him with an expression that instantly put him on edge. That feeling was confirmed when she reached out and placed a hand on his arm.
“How are you?” she asked in that overly solicitous tone that people usually reserved for the recently bereaved.
“Fine,” he answered a little warily. Why wouldn’t he be?
“I never had a chance to talk to you after...well, after things went south,” Cora went on in a low voice. “I just want you to know that Jim and I both think Brooke was crazy to break things off with you. Oh, I know you said in the letter you both sent out right after you broke up that it was a mutual decision, but I don’t think anybody missed putting two and two together when four months later she marries somebody else and has a baby less than a year after that.”
Ethan could feel himself go rigid, annoyed with Cora for bringing this up now, amid the festivities for Rodrigo’s birthday.
He felt the usual sting at the reminder of Brooke and the life she had so quickly gone on to build without him, but he could acknowledge that sting wasn’t hurt but injured pride.
He hadn’t loved Brooke, as she had so accurately pointed out when she ended the engagement.
Her words seemed to ring through his memory.
Something is broken inside you, Ethan, she had said, tears streaming down her cheeks. I thought I could live with a man who doesn’t love me as much as I love him. I know you care about me but not the way I need. I told myself you would let me all the way into your heart eventually. But we’re supposed to be married in a month and nothing has changed. I can’t take the risk that nothing ever will. I deserve better.
She must have found what she needed in Marcos Palmer, the professional basketball player she had married only months after she was supposed to marry Ethan.
He had seen pictures of them in various tabloids, and she had glowed in a way she never had with him.
“Brooke and I had an amicable separation,” he said carefully now to Cora, though he wanted to tell her none of it was her damn business. “I’m glad she found happiness with Marcos.”
“He’s nice enough, I guess. And their baby girl is adorable, at least the pictures I’ve seen. But I still think it was wrong, what she did to you.”
He didn’t want to be having this conversation with a woman who was a virtual stranger to him. “Thank you for your concern,” he said as calmly as he could manage, “but I wish your cousin nothing but the best.”
He started to ease away, hoping that would be the end of it, but Cora apparently wasn’t done causing trouble.
“Did you know she’s coming to town to spend the holidays with her folks?”
Great. Now he could look forward to more gossip and more of those pitying looks. He gave a forced smile.
“That’s terrific. There’s no better place to spend the holidays than here in Silver Bells. I hope your family has a joyous season. Give her my best if you see her, won’t you?”
Cora seemed a little deflated by his reaction, as if she were hoping for more drama. She must be one of those people who loved to make trouble, stirring pots that had long ago gone cold.
He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Will you excuse me? One of my staff members is trying to get my attention.”
It was a lie but gave him the excuse to turn his back and walk over to José, who was talking to one of his sisters. When he reached them, he stopped to chat to give his lie the ring of truth, all while his thoughts raced.
He had accepted over this past year that he and Brooke would have made each other miserable. He would have been constantly disappointing her. If they had married, they likely would have ended in divorce. At least they hadn’t had kids who would pay the price for his poor choices.
His gaze shifted again to Abby. She was smiling down at something Christopher had said. The light hit her just so, making her face glow with life and grace. He felt a hard tug in his chest, an ache he didn’t want to feel.
She was leaving soon. As much as he would miss her, it was for the best.
Something is broken inside you.
He didn’t know if that was true or not. He only knew he had already hurt Brooke. He didn’t want to do the same thing to Abby and Christopher.
He deliberately turned away, hoping this ache would go away as soon as they left Silver Bells.
* * *
Ordinarily the town gingerbread contest was Lucy’s favorite event of the year.
This year, it was torture.
Oh, she and Rodrigo w
ere having fun building their house. He had come prepared with drawings he had obviously been working on for a long time, and they now had a two-story masterpiece that looked like the house in the Disney movie Up, complete with hundreds of little gumdrop balloons.
It was gorgeous, if she did say so herself. It made her want to climb inside and float away.
Rodrigo was having the time of his life, greeting many friends who stopped by to offer him birthday greetings. Even people who didn’t know him stopped to wish him well.
Rodrigo was one of the most popular people in town. People loved his cheerful attitude and the way he embraced each day with joy.
As always when she came to the gingerbread competition and saw the outpouring of affection for her friend, part of a group historically marginalized, she thought her heart would burst.
How she loved Silver Bells and the good people here. Before she was in high school, her visits with her grandparents had been limited to a few weeks every summer and six months during one glorious year when her parents had been fighting over custody.
Unlike most custody disputes, her parents hadn’t been fighting because each of them wanted her and Ethan with them. Of course it wouldn’t be anything as straightforward as that. Instead, Rick and Terri both happened to be involved with someone new and wanted honeymoon time. They had each wanted the other parent to have custody.
She had probably been ten, Ethan thirteen. In the end, Winnie had stepped in and they had been gloriously happy at Holiday House for several months. That had been a short-term solution, and they were soon back to being traded back and forth like Christmas fruitcake.
Winnie had also finally put her foot down a few years later, when Ethan was a senior in high school and Lucy just starting. Her grandfather had just died and Winnie claimed she needed company in the big house.
“Also, it will do them good to stay in one place for a change,” Winnie had said.
Oh, how she had loved that time, when she and Ethan lived with Winnie during the school year and had to deal with their parents’ endless drama only in the summer.
When people asked her where she was from, she always told them Silver Bells, Colorado. This place called her home, no matter where else she was living.
Rodrigo and his family were part of the reason for that.
“Hey, Lucy, look at where I’m putting the chimney.”
“Looks perfect, Rod,” she said. She and Ethan had often talked about how wonderful it would be if everyone in the world had someone like Rod in their lives, someone who embodied pure, unspoiled love.
“Our house is cool.” Rodrigo beamed from ear to ear. “We always have the best one.”
“You rocked it, as usual. Every year, our house looks better and better.”
He beamed at her. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucy,” he said. “Everything is always more fun when you’re here.”
She smiled, touched to her soul. “Thank you, dude. Being with you is the best part of my whole year.”
Though they were working hard on their gingerbread house, Rodrigo insisted on stopping construction so he could hug her, sugar-sticky hands and all. She laughed, hugging him back. When she looked up, she saw José standing a short distance away, watching them.
His expression made her shiver—until Lucy realized he was standing next to Quinn Bellamy, who was smiling up at him and chattering about something Lucy couldn’t hear.
José and Quinn hadn’t come together, Lucy knew that, but they had connected shortly after José arrived with his sister, and Quinn hadn’t wandered far from his side.
She seemed very nice, with a cheerful smile and kind eyes. Lucy wanted to hate her, but she couldn’t. If the woman could make José happy, how could she dislike her?
Lucy might know that rationally, but she was a horrible person, apparently. She wanted to throw a bowl of frosting in her face.
She forced herself to turn her attention back to their house, working with Rodrigo to add final touches while the swing combo, made up of many of Winnie’s old friends, played “Jingle Bells” and “Rudolph.”
Finally it was time for the prizes. She wasn’t eligible to win, which was fine with her. She traveled enough. She didn’t need another excuse.
Claiming the privilege of the birthday boy, Rodrigo always gave out the prizes to the winners, and he had a particularly good time handing them out tonight.
She was thrilled when two middle-aged sisters won the grand prize with a gorgeous gingerbread ski lodge complete with a little ski lift made out of fruit leather.
“Looks like we have a tie in the under-ten category. Christopher Powell and Dakota Raymond. Can you come up here?”
Christopher and Dakota raced up hand in hand to receive a stocking each filled with what looked like candy and little Christmas toys. The boys danced around in excitement, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.
“And that concludes another year of our special Birthday Party Gingerbread Competition. Feel free to walk around and admire everyone else’s creations. See you all next year.”
“I’ll be thirty years old next time,” Rodrigo said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m old.”
She had to laugh. “I’ll be thirty in February so I’m even older.”
“Old lady,” Rodrigo teased.
She felt old, suddenly. Thirty was a pivotal year. She had spent her twenties doing what she wanted, going where she wanted, exploring the world, having fun.
Somehow it didn’t seem enough anymore. Maybe it was time she shifted focus.
“Your gingerbread house is amazing, as always,” Sofia, Rodrigo’s mother, said, admiring their display. “How do you do it, year after year?”
“It’s not me. As always, Rodrigo is the creative genius behind this operation.”
His mother smiled broadly, hugging him. “Thank you for being his partner again.”
“Are you kidding? It’s the highlight of my year. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Sofia smiled and patted her hand. “You’re a good girl, Lucy. Once I had hoped maybe you and my José would... Well.” She shrugged. “A mother hopes. It’s not to be. But you should know I would have been happy to have you for my daughter.”
For a moment, Lucy didn’t know what to say, emotion clogging her throat. When had she ever heard her own mother say anything remotely close to that?
“That’s very sweet of you, Sofia,” she finally managed.
Sofia looked embarrassed. “Do not tell José I said anything like that to you. My son, he already thinks I interfere too much in his life.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Now, I can take Rodrigo home with me. Mijo, where is your coat?”
“I put it under the table so I wouldn’t lose it.” He reached under the table and pulled it out with a triumphant noise.
“Are you sure? He’s my date. I don’t mind taking him home.”
“No, no. We’re going to walk around and admire all the gingerbread houses, and then his sisters want to have cake and ice cream at home.”
“I like cake,” Rod informed her.
“Good thing,” she said, helping him with his zipper. “I’ll see you later, dude. Happy birthday. Thanks for the fun day.”
“Bye, Lucy. I love you.”
“I love you right back.”
This of course necessitated another hug. Anyone in Rodrigo Navarro’s life had to put up with plenty of hugs, which she had never found a hardship.
She cleaned up the remains of their gingerbread frenzy, then did her part to help clean up other tables with a few other lingerers.
“You don’t have to do this. We have a crew standing by to clean up.”
Somehow her path had led her to José. Had that been accidental, or had her subversive subconscious led her toward him?
She shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m
not washing fondant out of the carpets or anything, only throwing away some trash. It’s always such a fun day, isn’t it? And for a good cause.”
“Rodrigo loves it. We hear about it all year long. Thanks for being his partner.”
“It’s absolutely my pleasure.”
“I know. Which makes it mean even more.”
She felt that ache in her throat again. What was happening to her? She had cried more since coming back to Silver Bells than she remembered doing in years.
“You’re helping with the wedding this week, right? The one with the Russian woman whose family speaks no English?”
“Da.” She answered in Russian. It wasn’t among the strongest of the languages she knew but was one of her favorites.
“The wedding is Tuesday evening, but the bride and her family are all arriving first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes. I’m going to the airport with the limousine to pick them up.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
Lancaster Hotels was all about service. She would have been happy to help anyway since Katya Morozov was marrying a good friend of hers from high school, Daniel Fox.
“I have a dossier on the Morozov family in the office that might be helpful, if you have time to pick it up now so you can look it over before you go to the airport.”
Of course he did. The Lancaster staff was nothing if not thorough. “That would be great.”
She followed José out of the ballroom and out to the elevators that led to the administrative offices.
Was he enjoying his job? she wondered. She knew José had pulled back from his responsibilities as Ethan’s second in command so that he could focus more on helping his family.
He could have any job he wanted, at Lancaster or anywhere else.
“Quinn seems very nice. What is this? Your fourth date? Fifth? You must be getting serious.”
The only sign he gave that he was annoyed was a slight tension in his long hands as he pulled out an ID card and used it to swipe into his office.
“Today wasn’t a date,” he said as he opened the door for her. “We were both working. She was at the gingerbread competition because her job includes event planning. If it had been a date, don’t you think I would have taken her home?”
Christmas at Holiday House Page 24
