All but one. The unmatched button went into her new silver handbag…after Alissa touched it to her lips. “For luck,” she whispered.
Then she walked out of her room and downstairs. Back to the overly cheery lobby she’d fled two days ago.
Bravado. She descended the stairs at a much slower pace than she’d ascended them after colliding with the handsome stranger who looked like Oregon. Bluster. Swagger. Boldness.
Step. Step. Step.
She stopped on the bottom riser. Put-on. Make-believe. The words flowed through her mind in a steady stream. Fake. That’s me. I’m not brave—not even a little bit. I’m just good at putting on a show.
Then she lifted her chin and cast her gaze toward the gift shop. Open. Yes!
She’d find those bell chimes. Maybe they’d ring in a little courage—and a lot of cheer.
Alissa stepped off the staircase and started across the room.
Scott reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the gift shop.
On the opposite staircase, the woman he now thought of as Lissy stood on the bottom step. She hovered there, as if uncertain whether to turn and flee back up or come all the way down.
His breath caught. His fingers slid into his pocket and sought out the button disk.
How could one human creature possess so much beauty and poise? A purple evening gown hugged her gorgeous form and draped to her ankles in a graceful flow of fabric. She’d swept her hair up into some kind of messy-wonderful do, and added a few sparklies—a total waste. Under the bright overhead lights, her hair outshone the artificial glitter tucked into it.
She lifted her chin and headed for…the gift shop! A corner of Scott’s lips lifted, along with his eyes. “Thanks, God. You’re amazing.”
He’d spent every possible moment of the past two days in the lobby, hoping to see her again. To ask her if he was right. Was she his Lissy…the girl he’d never forgotten, just as he’d promised fifteen years ago? Despite his parents’ arguments that what he felt was “just hormones,” he’d been heartbroken when she refused his many calls after her family returned to Oklahoma that spring. If this woman was Lissy—and he felt certain she was—she had some explaining to do.
He gave her a moment, and then trailed in behind her.
She stood beneath a display of various windchimes, which he could see at a glance were all handmade, probably by local artisans. Nice pieces, but he didn’t take time to study them. He had eyes only for the woman standing beneath the tinkling chimes. With her face lifted to look upward, the long line of her neck and chin captured his gaze. He found himself almost incapable of looking away, but he did.
Then he strode across the small room.
“Lissy?”
She spun toward him, her wide-eyed expression trapped. Her face lost a good deal of color, but she didn’t swoon, so Scott made no move toward her. She’d probably dart out the door like a frightened deer if he did that.
“I don’t think they have any windchimes made out of Oregon seashells.”
“I—I’m sorry, I—” She stopped and pulled in a deep breath. “Do I know you?”
“You know you do.”
She shook her head, but he saw the truth in her eyes.
“All right. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you just look like my Lissy.”
He turned away, truly intending to walk out the door. But then he stopped, pulled the button from his pocket and turned back. Holding the small object between thumb and index finger, he met her gaze. “I don’t suppose you remember this, either?”
She closed her eyes for a second. Two. Drew in a deep breath and let it out. She slowly lifted her gaze and looked straight into his for one heart-stopping moment. Then, without a word, she opened a little silver handbag and reached inside. Once again, she met his gaze, and this time she held it as she opened the curled fingers of her hand.
On her palm lay one of the five buttons that matched—in a weird kind of way—the one he’d carried in his pocket for fifteen years.
When he looked up, Lissy’s beautiful eyes brimmed with tears.
“Why didn’t you call, Scott? I cried forever when I finally gave up on you.”
Even now, she dabbed at her eyes with a finger, clearly trying to avoid a mascara mess. Scott stepped closer and used his handkerchief to catch the spill of tears. Then he tucked his finger under her chin and raised it just enough to see her eyes. But they were closed.
“Look at me, Lissy.”
She shook her head.
Scott caught another overflow of tears. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.
When she did, the pain in those beautiful depths undid him. He drew her into his arms, surprised when she didn’t pull away and run. But she stayed put—stiff and unyielding, but still in place—and he bent his head to speak into her ear.
“I did call. I must’ve called twenty times. Why did you refuse to speak to me?”
Chapter 3
REFUSE TO SPEAK TO HIM? Did he seriously expect her to buy into that lame response?
As if she wouldn’t remember. As if she hadn’t been glued to the areas around the family phones for weeks after returning home to Eufala. Had she not had a phone next to her bed, she’d have slept on the sofa…waiting—endlessly, hopelessly, tearfully waiting for a call that never came.
Did he think time had dulled her memories? Well, he was wrong. She hadn’t forgotten anything—that’s why she still stood in the circle of his arms, listening to the beat of his heart against her ear.
Her cheeks warmed. She took a step back, gently extricated herself from his embrace.
“Look, I understand. We were kids. You were fifteen. I can see why you wouldn’t want to pursue a relationship with someone several states away. You’d only known me for a few weeks. Who knew if we’d ever see each other again?” She managed a smile that trembled on her lips. “I’m sure it all worked out for the best.”
“Lissy, I called! I tried to—”
She lifted her chin and broke into his frantic response. “It was really great seeing you again.”
Then she walked out of the shop. She’d inquire about the bell windchimes another day.
In the dining room, she looked around uncertainly. Like the rooms, every table rested beneath a different Christmas theme. Hadn’t there been some mention of assigned tables in the paperwork Lydia gave her when she registered? She’d forgotten to check into that. Oh, well, she’d go up and order dinner in her room. After that encounter with Scott, she probably couldn’t swallow a thing anyway.
“Alissa! I wondered if I had imagined meeting you.”
She swung toward the voice. Lydia, of course. Who else in this place would know her name…well, other than Scott, and Lydia’s voice was a far cry from his.
Before she knew what to expect, the woman wrapped her in a huge hug. “I’m so glad you finally came out of hiding.”
“Well, I was just about to go back to my room. I have a feeling I’m supposed to be at a certain table, but I can’t remember which.”
“You are not going upstairs until after dinner!” Lydia’s dimples danced out and brought an answering smile to Alissa’s lips, despite her still shaken emotions. “You’re in the Bells and Mistletoe Suite, right?”
She nodded, and Lydia led her to a table situated in the center of the room. “You’ll sit at this table throughout your visit.” She indicated a card tucked into a long, pronged ‘stick’ tucked into the red and gold centerpiece. “This will help you remember.”
Handwritten on the card: Bells and Mistletoe; Doves and Poinsettia; Christmas Around the World.
“Thank you, Lydia. This is very helpful.”
“My pleasure.” Her gaze flitted around the room, and she leaned in to speak in a low voice. “I’m glad you’re dining here tonight. So far, there’s only one other guest at this table. The guy has sat alone every night since he checked in, and I always hate seeing that happen.” She turned to peruse the card again. “Oh! Someone checked into the Christmas Around the Wo
rld room just today. If he comes down for dinner, there’ll be three of you tonight.”
Alissa wasn’t sure she looked forward to having dinner with two men she didn’t know, but she could hardly decide to return to her room now—not with Lydia so excited that she’d come downstairs, all dressed up and clearly intending to dine at the inn.
“I guess it’s never really much fun to eat by yourself in a place like this, is it?”
“It certainly is not! But even a solitary diner will be glad they chose to have dinner at the inn. I can vouch for the chef—he’s amazing.” Lydia grinned. “He’s also my husband.”
“Well, then!” Alissa hiked an eyebrow. “Can I trust your opinion?”
“Probably not.” The woman’s dimples danced in and out on her cheeks. “But you can trust the opinion of over half the country. They all seem to think Graham Forrester is a one-of-a-kind chef.” She giggled. “And they’re not under his spell, like me.” She sobered and met Alissa’s gaze. “All joking aside, Graham is a good man…the best. He’s kind, caring, giving…” Once again, her lips curved into a playful smile. Lydia clearly had a hard time staying overly serious for long. “And he’s drop-dead gorgeous too. That’s quite a nice addition to the package.”
Alissa laughed, and then blinked and caught her breath. How long had it been since she’d experienced spontaneous laughter? Clearly too long, since she couldn’t remember.
She lifted her chin. That had to change, right here and now. She refused to grow old and crotchety while she was still young and had the opportunity to be happy.
She stepped close and gave Lydia an impulsive hug—another first for her…at least, the first in a long time. “I’m so glad you’re happy, Lydia.”
The hug she received in return was warm and sincere. “Thank you. I’m praying that before you leave Christmas Inn, you’ll be happy too.”
“Oh! But I—I am hap—”
“Good evening, ladies!” A pleasant greeting interrupted her protest.
Just as well, since Lydia already had one eyebrow raised in pointed disbelief of Alissa’s protest.
“I hope you’ll both be joining me this evening. These big, round dining tables seem twice as large when you’re the only person seated at one of them.”
The deep baritone voice sent delicious shivers through Alissa’s soul, and she didn’t even need to turn around to know it belonged to Scott.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she gone back upstairs when she had the chance?
Lissy…at his table!
Scott winged a grateful prayer Heavenward. He could never have persuaded her to join him, but God already had it planned.
He pulled a chair out and lifted a brow. “Lissy?”
She drew a deep breath and cast a longing look toward the door. Still, she accepted the seat with a mostly successful attempt to be gracious, and Scott moved it to a comfortable distance from the table.
“Lydia, will you be joining us?”
“I wish I could, but I have to get back to the kitchen. Graham recruited my help chopping veggies. I’d better move along…but the two of you, enjoy your dinner!”
Then she was gone and Scott took the seat next to Lissy. He had her all to himself, and he intended to take full advantage of this time with her. She’d most likely cut it as short as she could without being rude.
Her gaze bounced around the room…flitting here, landing there, darting elsewhere. Anything to keep from looking at him.
“Lissy.” Scott laid a hand on hers. Her fingers stiffened, and then relaxed. She didn’t pull away. “Look at me.”
She shook her head and her jaw tensed.
“Don’t you think we need to clear the air? We had something, all those years ago. I know you think I forgot about you, but it isn’t true. I called…at least a dozen times, maybe more. Each time, I was told you couldn’t come to the phone. You weren’t feeling well, or you’d gone out with friends—always something, but usually what I heard was, ‘She doesn’t want to talk to you.’
“I finally admitted to myself that it was probably true—you didn’t want to talk, and I’d grossly exaggerated the importance of our perfect springtime friendship. For you, I’d just been someone to while away the hours with until time to go home.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and she raised her gaze to his at last. Her beautiful eyes brimmed with tears. She shook her head but said nothing.
Scott continued without mention of her emotion.
“But then…there was that button. I couldn’t forget the tears on your face, and the emotion in your eyes when you ripped it off that crazy Ragamuffin Rudolph sweater and pressed it into my hand.”
A soft, sweet giggle burst from Lissy’s lips. Scott grinned when her eyes widened. She clearly hadn’t intended to let him know she remembered. But she did. She remembered everything…he knew it in his heart.
West Coast, springtime coastal weather…probably a little like the climate in Heaven. Beautiful. Not hot. Not cold. Always pleasant…except when the wind kicked up a fuss over the waves. Then it could get a little chilly on the shore.
That’s what happened one day when the two of them were scouting the beach for sand dollars. Lissy wanted a dozen of them for a craft project, and they had to be perfect. She wouldn’t consider using one with even the tiniest of chips.
She shivered, and beneath the short sleeves of her top, goose bumps erupted on her thin arms.
“Lissy, you’re cold. We should go back to the hotel and let you warm up.”
“But I still need four more sand dollars. I don’t want to leave yet.”
“Then…” He glanced around and fixed on the boardwalk, where tourists roamed various vendor booths and shops. “Let’s go find you a sweater in one of those places, and we’ll come back.”
“OK…I guess. But we’re coming back.”
They found a small shop with a clearance rack outside the door. The owners must have been desperate to empty the place of winter clothing and make room for something else, because that’s what was stuffed on the short rack, at near-giveaway prices.
The sweater hung at one end of the clutter of garments. Scott saw it first and held his breath, somehow knowing he’d be seeing a lot of the colorful cardigan in the next couple of weeks.
Christmas-themed, the sweater boasted a white front and back, one red sleeve, and one green sleeve. Screen printed across both front panels, Rudolph’s head grinned back at anyone who happened to notice. His red nose rested just below the shoulder, made to “glow” by the large, white satin snowflake perched on its tip. Six bright buttons marched in a vertical line down the front. No two were alike, but all sported a red, white and green color theme.
Lissy saw the sweater, snagged it off the rack with an excited squeal and hugged it to her body.
Scott loved that part of her personality…so lacking in self-consciousness, unconcerned with what others thought about her likes and dislikes. She was who she was, and made no apologies for it, either verbal or otherwise.
What she’d chosen wasn’t exactly an “ugly sweater,” but it was out of season…and it did have those weird, unmatched buttons.
From that day until the last, Scott teased her mercilessly about her “Ragamuffin Rudolph sweater.” Lissy never got angry...not even once. She played along, and before long, “Ragamuffin Rudolph” was somehow entwined into the core of their developing relationship.
“I can’t believe you kept that button.”
Scott started, so caught up in the past that he’d almost forgotten the girl of that particular dream sat right next to him—right here, right now.
He grinned and gave her a wink. “I was afraid if I got rid of it, Rudolph would find me and freeze my heart with his snowflake nose.”
Once again, Lissy treated him to the sound of her soft laughter. “Ever the comedian.”
“As I recall, you gave me a run for my money in that regard.”
Her eyes widened. “Moi? You must have me confused with your fe
minine side.”
He laughed, but then sobered. Her hand still lay beneath his. He picked it up and lifted it to his lips. “No, I haven’t confused you with anyone, Lissy. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”
She pulled in a shaky breath. “Scott…please don’t…”
He pulled the button from his pocket and laid it on the table. “Everywhere I go, this goes along. For fifteen years, I’ve never stepped foot outside my house without it.” He paused to run a finger down her soft cheek. “Does that sound like a guy who forgot you, Lissy?”
Chapter 4
SCOTT HADN’T FORGOTTEN HER.
Alissa smiled through a mist of tears. “I didn’t forget either. I tried to call you too…but after the third time I was told not to call back, my mother forbade me to call again. She said I should leave you alone, and not be pining away over ‘spring break puppy love.’”
Scott scowled. “What we had…it wasn’t puppy love. I cared about you, Lissy. I still do.”
A rush of warmth flooded her cheeks. Good heavens, when would she ever stop blushing like a shy schoolgirl?
“Scott, we don’t even know each other anymore.” Try as she might, she couldn’t manage more than a whisper.
“Don’t we?” He leaned in, placed his lips near her ear. “Who else knows that you love sand dollars because they’re so perfect, and because they hold inside them tiny wings of peace?”
She caught her breath. He’d remembered that?
“No one.” She brushed away a tear. “I’ve told no one else.”
“Who else knows that when you eat berries, your lips are the very color of the lipstick you’re wearing right now?”
She chuckled. So she’d been right about the color, when the revelation finally hit. “Only when I eat berries from a certain bush on the Oregon coast.”
“That’s probably true.” His eyes didn’t reflect the little smile he produced. “But even that is something only you and I know. And if I sit here and think about it long enough, I’ll come up with more. Lots more. Because, whether the people who were the adults in our lives knew it at the time or not, we knew each other. From the heart.”
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