Afterward, she considered foregoing a nap to get in some time on her puzzles, but her bed spoke her name with a siren call.
She snuggled under the down comforter, her mind filled with Scott—his handsome face, his smile, his gentleness and caring…his wife. Bell. Who was she? Why weren’t they together? Had Scott loved her once?
Did he love her still?
Her blurry gaze fell on the little canvas box sitting atop her bedside table. She slipped an arm from beneath the covers, took the button box in her hand and nestled it close to her heart.
Then, despite the whirlwind of thought and emotion her thoughts had become, Alissa gave in to the relentless pull of sleep.
Scott waited at the foot of the stairs, prepared to go up and bang on Lissy’s door if she didn’t show up promptly at six. He’d called himself all kinds of a fool for allowing her to be alone for so long after coming in from outside all but frozen through. Who knew if she was okay up there?
“Scott?”
He jumped. Despite his intended vigilance, he’d been so caught up in a mental display of possibilities that he’d taken his eyes off the staircase.
Then she was there…one hand on the rail, gliding downward like an angel. She wore white, not purple, despite her wry declaration only hours earlier.
Scott grinned through a sudden dry throat and pounding heart.
Even at thirteen years old, Lissy hadn’t allowed things like fashion and tradition to force her into or out of something she wanted to do…or wear—as had come to light with the colorful Rudolph sweater in the middle of spring on an Oregon coast.
Some things about her hadn’t changed, thank God.
Other things had. She seemed less self-confident, less self-assured, more withdrawn—maybe even introverted. He remembered a girl with an enchantingly spontaneous, effervescent personality. If she allowed him to hang around for long, he’d find a way to remind her who she was…who she was supposed to be.
Starting right now.
He took her hand as she reached the bottom stair, brought it to his lips as she stepped down.
“You’re beautiful, Lissy. For once, I don’t even have words.”
She lowered her lashes to rest on rosy cheeks. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”
“I only speak truth, sweetheart.” He tucked her hand through the bend of his elbow. “Come on. Let’s go eat. I can’t wait to show you to the world.”
She laughed softly. “You’re easy to impress.”
“I’m actually not.” He pulled in a breath and let it out slowly, willing his erratic heartbeat to follow suit. “Whether you believe it or not, Lissie Neal, you are an incredibly lovely woman.”
On the way to Hope Creek, Scott found it hard to keep his eyes on the road. Lissy kept oohing and ahhing over “darling” little shops and “cute” storefronts. Her eyes shone like a child’s at Christmas time.
She was unlike any woman he’d ever been around. Sweet and innocent. Unspoiled by the world.
Enchanting—that’s the word.
She’d certainly enchanted him.
“It’s so quaint, Scott! I love it. I want to explore every nook and cranny in this town.”
“Then we’ll do that, together.”
“Look!” She pointed toward a park, where a huge gazebo took up the center portion. Although darkness hadn’t quite fallen, white Christmas lights managed to make themselves seen, strung around the structure, woven in and out of bright red poinsettia garlands. Red furniture peeked out from inside. “That’s gorgeous. I have to come back and get pictures after dark…and then again in daylight.”
“OK. We can do that.”
She nodded, then nibbled at her bottom lip. Scott’s heart once again started to misbehave.
“You know you don’t have to do all these things with me. They’re not exactly “guy” kind of activities. I don’t want to bore you.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.”
“Is that so?”
There! Just a hint of the sauciness he remembered.
“Absolutely so.” If she kept smiling like that, she could talk him into anything.
“Thank you–it’s always more fun with good company. Tonight we’re going to the theater though. I can get pictures of the gazebo tomorrow.”
“Whatever you say. You’re in charge.”
The small Italian restaurant, Tocco d’Italia, didn’t look like much from the outside, and held no more than a dozen tables inside—but Lydia had warned Scott about that.
The hostess escorted them through the dimly lit interior. Amazing décor made up for the lack of size. If Lydia’s raving recommendation could be believed, the quality of dining would do that as well. Candlelight bathed their table in a golden glow that shimmered over the simple grouping of grapes and berries nestled around a candelabrum. Sheer white fabric draped the space, and tiny twinkle lights worked into the folds created a warm, intimate atmosphere.
The moment they were alone, Lissy’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness, Scott…how did you find this place? It’s beyond charming. I feel like I walked through a door and straight into Italy!”
“Me too. Lydia said the food is every bit as outstanding as the atmosphere.”
“Then we’re in for a treat.”
“Maybe. But it won’t matter to me if the food tastes like mud. Being with you is all the ‘treat’ I need.”
Her glowing smile wavered, and then faded away.
“Scott, I—I—” She sighed. “We need to talk.”
“I’m ready.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, and Scott didn’t blame her. That lip looked utterly delectable.
“I need to know about your—your w—” Another deep sigh. “You’re married.”
“Yes. I’d like to tell you about that, but I don’t want to ruin dinner. Do you want to hear it now, or should I wait?”
“Now. I need to know what’s going on, Scott. Now…before this—whatever this is between us—goes any farther.”
He nodded, then laid his open hand on the table. An invitation.
Lissy hesitated, but then she slid her slender fingers over his.
Scott launched into his story, eager to get it out of the way.
“I was eighteen, in the Army, and fresh out of my first tour in Afghanistan. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that experience, Lissy. Nothing.” He hauled in a deep breath and winced. Against a throat gone suddenly dirt-dry, that breath scraped like sharp talons in tender flesh. “I can’t even explain where I was emotionally. To say I was depressed barely scratches the surface. Getting out of bed every day required a monumental effort—one I had no choice but to make, because soldiers don’t have the luxury of staying in bed and pulling up the covers between them and the rest of the world.”
“I’m so sorry. It must’ve been awful for you.”
He squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t sure I even wanted to live, knowing I could quite possibly be sent back there again. No one knew how low I really was.” He paused, closed his eyes, and then continued. “No one except one of the female soldiers. Bellamy Ennis and I had become friends during boot camp. From the first time we met, we just…connected. We were good for—”
To Scott’s relief, a young waiter appeared at their table. He needed a break, even if only for a moment or two.
“I’m sorry. We haven’t even looked at the menus. May we have another moment, please?”
“Of course. I’ll return shortly.” The kid melted out of sight.
“I guess we need to take a moment and decide what we’re having.” He managed a weak grin. “I’d be lying if I said I’m sorry for the break in my tale of two American soldiers.”
“It’s okay. I can tell it’s not easy for you to talk about this. Thank you for doing it anyway. I just…I don’t understand your situation, and I want to, Scott. I really want to.”
“And I want you to. I’ll get through it, don’t worry. Now…” He ran a finger down the menu, which was surprisingly shor
t and uncomplicated. “What shall we have for dinner?”
By the time the waiter returned, they were ready. Scott ordered a hearty beef and three-cheese lasagna. Lissy decided on chicken fettuccini alfredo.
Then the waiter was gone, and Scott continued his story. He left nothing out, from the strictly platonic relationship with Bellamy to his depressive mental state. He told her how Bell had dragged him out of it, often against his own will. How she’d saved him. And how he’d then saved her—whether because he felt obligated or because he’d had no reason not to—when the time came.
He stopped talking, and Lissy brushed at eyes shiny with tears.
“You were a true friend, Scott. So was Bell.” She cleared her throat. “God must have placed you both in that place at that time to save each other.”
“Yes. I believe He did.”
“So…you just married her and then the two of you went your own ways?”
“Yes and no. We were, after all, at the same Army base, and we were friends who knew more than we should have about each other. I was with her when her baby girl was born. Then Bell requested a transfer to another base and left a few weeks later. We stayed in touch—closely at first, and then less and less. For the past few years, we’ve just exchanged Christmas cards. Bell sends a picture of Scottie now and then. That’s it.”
“Scottie?” Lissy whispered. “She named her daughter after you?”
“Yes. She named her Scotlyn, but she calls her Scottie. Kinda cute, huh?”
“Yes. And such an honor.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for sharing your story with me.”
He managed a smile, relieved when the waiter showed up with their food.
He’d love to tell Lissy that he wanted to share more than just his story with her—he wanted to share his whole life—but he couldn’t. For the moment, he could only try to set things right. He’d tried to call Bell earlier, while Lissy showered and rested after her crazy walk to the chapel, but managed to reach only her voice mail. Maybe she’d call back, any minute now, and he could start the process of freeing himself from their farce of a marriage.
Until then, he couldn’t share his heart with Lissy. He already had a wife.
Chapter 9
THE WORD ‘PERFECT’ SEEMED INADEQUATE to describe their romantic, delicious dinner. Alissa thought she would never again find a fettuccini to compare. Judging by the way Scott dug into his lasagna, she felt safe in assuming his dinner proved every bit as delicious as her own.
They talked as if they’d never been apart—except the conversation went back and forth between catching up and getting to know each other again. For Alissa, the evening was magical and momentous. Heart-stopping. Beyond wonderful. Wholly, completely good.
After dinner—a combination of delicious food, sweet memories, tentative new exploration of an old, barely begun romance, and beautiful ambience—they drove to the Brewster Family Theater and spent the rest of the evening laughing at a well-done romantic comedy.
Back at the car, Scott settled Alissa in, and then covered her with a soft, warm throw. She snuggled in as he rounded the hood and then slid in behind the wheel.
She wanted to speak up and thank him for the beautiful evening, but a sudden wave of unexpected shyness stole her voice. What in the world?
She cleared her throat, relieved when her voice cooperated on the second try.
“Scott, I…thank you.”
She saw the upward curve of his oh-so-perfect lips only by the dim glow of dash lights.
“No need. I should thank you, Lissy. This has been the best evening I’ve had in a really long time.”
“For me, as well.” She paused, debating the wisdom of her next words, but then plunged ahead. “I can’t help thinking maybe God had a reason for bringing us here, to Christmas Inn, at the same time…after all these years.”
“I don’t think there’s any ‘maybe’ about it, Lissy. God has a plan. We just have to follow His lead and see what lies ahead.”
“Yes. That’s something I’ve been remiss in doing for a long time—giving my life over to God, I mean. I think I blamed Him for the way things went…after Oregon. So I just stopped talking to Him. Didn’t read His word, didn’t consider His will about any decision I needed to make.” She drew a deep breath. “If nothing else, this trip has brought me back to the right place with the Lord. That’s what I was doing at the chapel today—setting things right between us. Clearing the air, at least a little.”
“Hmmm. You won’t believe this, but that’s exactly what I did in my room last night. Spent a long time talking to—no, speaking with—my best Friend. I’m surprised I found Him still wanting to be a friend, the way I’ve ignored Him the past few years.”
“Well, then the trip has been well worth coming here, for both of us. No matter what else happens. Thank you for sharing that with me, Scott. It means a lot.” She smiled. “Have you been out to the Christmas Inn Chapel?”
“I have. Stepped in there for a few minutes a couple days back. Kinda felt like I’d stepped into the past.”
“Exactly! So quaint. I love it. Really didn’t want to leave, but…well, it was so cold.” She chuckled.
“Not funny! You scared me to death. Promise you won’t do that again.”
“Won’t go to the chapel? I can’t promise that because I plan to go there often. But I do promise to go prepared—warmly dressed, and I’ll even take a blanket. Plus, I guess I shouldn’t have stayed that long, but it felt so good to be back in communication with the Lord.”
“I hear you.” He glanced her way and grinned. “Speaking of the chapel. You know about the bells, right?”
“Bells?” She shook her head, puzzled. “I saw that there’s a bell tower, but I figured it doesn’t work. The chapel looks pretty old. Why? What’s the story?”
“The bells don’t work. They haven’t worked for years. But legend has it that, when a couple falls in love while they’re at Christmas Inn, the bells toll upon their first kiss.”
“Awww…that’s sweet! But of course it’s just a legend. I mean—” She turned to study Scott’s dark profile, as if it did any good. The interior of the car didn’t hold enough light to read his expression. “You don’t believe that story, do you?”
“Well, I don’t know. Stranger things have happened, especially when God is at the helm—and I’m thinking when it comes to the chapel, He’s very much in control. It’s existence is a whole other story.”
“Tell me about it.” She snuggled deeper beneath the soft blanket.
“Well, the inn is owned by the Christmas family. You probably know that. Ariana Christmas is the current owner-operator. It was her great great grandfather, Angus Christmas, who built the inn.”
“I didn’t realize Christmas was a surname until I saw it there in the lobby on that big, copper plaque. So the first Christmas in these parts was Angus?”
“Yep. The Reverend Angus brought his new bride out here, determined to minister to the early settlers in the area. The two of them lived in a split-log cabin with a dirt floor while Angus built—”
Alissa sat up straight and clapped her hands. “He built what is now the inn for his wife!”
Scott chuckled. “Much as I’d like to keep that beautiful smile on your face by saying yes, I can’t do that. First, he built a little church—the chapel you spent too much time in this morning. He was set on having a bell tower, and had the bells brought in with a great deal of care and considerable expense. Angus said folks needed the bells, so they could hear the call of the Lord. They were delivered and installed the same year he and his wife lost their first child, which they buried behind the chapel.”
“Oh…that’s so sad!”
“If the story stopped there, I guess it would be. But the reverend was a wise man. He’d also told his wife that the church would be a safe haven for those early settlers as they endured the many hardships of the frontier. It was. Folks came from miles around to hear Angus preach, to worship and fellowship t
ogether, and of course…to be married.”
“We don’t really think enough about all the sacrifices that were made during the making of our country, do we?”
“No, I’m afraid we don’t. But the frontier-folk around Hope Creek—they had a good minister, and a good church. Angus rang those expensive bells for lots of reasons, not just to announce a Sunday service. They rang for births and deaths, community meetings and church picnics.”
He slowed to turn in at the inn. “And they rang for weddings. Those big ol’ bells must’ve especially enjoyed the weddings, because they still ring when couples around these parts fall in love and share a first kiss.”
Alissa sat quiet for a moment, then turned toward Scott. “I’m told that woven into most legends is some piece of truth. So whether the legend of the Christmas Inn bells is all legend or if it holds a ‘piece of truth,’ it’s absolutely magical.”
She laughed softly, and then a little louder as something carefree and happy, something from someplace in her past, rose up in her heart again. “I choose to believe there’s truth in that tale, Scott. Maybe the old minister prayed so much love into that chapel that the bells simply can’t help but ring when love comes calling. Maybe they’re only heard by people who believe in them.”
She caught her breath when Scott reached out to trace the line of her jaw. Something in his eyes set off its own ringing within her heart.
“That’s at least a couple of maybes.”
Parked in a parking slot at the inn, with all the bright lights shining into their windows, Scott’s grin wasn’t hard to see. Nor was the look in his oh-so-expressive eyes.
Alissa’s throat threatened to close. She swallowed, relieved to find she could still breathe…and still speak.
“Yes, it is, and I’m sure there are plenty more of them. For right now, maybe I’ll just keep believing in the bells.”
“You do that,” Scott murmured. “I like the way it looks on you.”
Love at Christmas Inn Collection 2 Page 29
