by Viv Royce
Her smile widened and she waved back. She gestured at the shop and then disappeared. He pocketed the phone and jumped from the car. The lights in the shop went out as she closed up and then she appeared with her coat, scarf and cap in her hand. He already had the passenger door open for her. As she brushed by him, the scent of something sweet wafted toward him. He wasn’t sure whether it was chocolate or her perfume. Maybe chocolate is her perfume? He had to laugh, and she studied him. “What?”
“You smell just like your shop. Sweet. Ready to go?”
“Sure. Can’t wait to see the tree farm.”
While he slipped into the driver seat, Emma folded her coat in her lap. The charm bracelet tinkled. He nodded at it. “Cute bracelet.”
“Thanks. It’s sort of an ongoing project.” She touched the tiny whisk with a loving smile. “Every time something momentous happens in my life, I add a charm to it. The book is for graduation, the muffin tray for completing the business course, and the whisk for opening the shop. I don’t know yet what the next one will be. Maybe having served my first thousand customers?”
He started the engine. “You must be working like crazy to get everything done and close up shop. I mean, once it’s Christmas, you probably want to go spend it with family or friends.” He glanced at her, expecting one of her dazzling smiles as she was reminded of her holiday plans.
But Emma’s expression tightened. She looked out of the window, fidgeting with her scarf. “I uh…I didn’t make any special plans. I don’t have parents anymore. They died when I was little. No siblings either. Just me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “that was rude of me.” The “just me” sounded so sad. As if it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t; he knew just how incredibly lonely it could be on your own, even with a little girl sleeping in your arms. But still, she shouldn’t think that she was really alone. His head whirled with things to say that would just come out wrong. The only right thing to do would be to reach out for her and put his hand over hers—but he was driving.
“Why would it have been rude?” she asked. “You didn’t know.”
“That’s exactly why. It can bother me how people simply assume things about you and then react from those assumptions, so I should be more tactful.”
She looked at him. “You mean because you’re a single father?”
“No, because I’m a pilot. They seem to think it’s a life full of…excitement.” He focused on the street ahead as he navigated the car past a truck and then turned right. “When I tell them my wife died and I’m raising my daughter alone, they are usually at a loss for words.”
…
Emma didn’t know what to say, either. She wanted to know more about how Grant’s wife had died, what it had been like for him, but as they knew each other so little, it might be intrusive to ask.
“I guess people just have a lot of prejudices about things. When I say I was raised in foster care, they sometimes picture me in an orphanage with fifty other kids. But I’ve always been in families. There were other children, sometimes of the couple who raised me, sometimes other foster children. But it was like a normal home, where I had my own bedroom and got enough attention.”
“Still they weren’t your parents,” he observed quietly.
Emma bit her lip. “No. I will never have my parents.” The familiar void twisted inside. More insidious than it had been in the past, it cut into her happiness when she least expected it.
He glanced at her. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay. I mean, my father died when I was just a baby so it’s not like I ever knew him. And my mother… I do remember things about her, but not a lot. It fades over time. You don’t want it to, but it does.”
She stared ahead, with a frown. “When I had just been placed in foster care, I worked on my memories of my mother every single day. After school or before bed, I sat in my room and I recalled all of our moments together, trying to etch every little detail about it into my mind. The kitchen floor, the smell of warm cookies, the touch of her hand, the sound of her laughter. I wanted to keep her with me. I was sort of convinced they were all out to make me forget about her, acting like they were my parents now. I’d prove them wrong. But I couldn’t keep that up for long. I was too small maybe to have a lot of memories and…I got tired, too. Tired of fighting them, fighting the system that got me transferred again and again.”
“How often did you have to move?”
“Eight times, before the family where I was until college.” Emma shivered thinking of that little girl with her teddy tucked under her arm, being put on another plane to go to yet another family. “My case is not typical so I’m not saying the system isn’t good. Once I was settled in, I had a great childhood. They really loved me. Still do. We call from time to time and I sent them photos of the shop and updates on how I’m doing here. But the start into care was rocky.” She turned her face toward him. “Somehow you don’t forget.” Especially when she was tired or knocked by a setback, the emptiness inside was worse, the sense of drifting alone through the world, never sticking long enough in one place to grow roots, be a part of something. That’s going to change here in Wood Creek. This is a place for staying.
Grant nodded. His jaw was tight, his eyes pensive. “Being thrown into a whole new situation is a big deal. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a kid. It’s hard enough as a grown-up.”
Neither of them spoke as they drove on through the dusk around them, having left the town behind and heading out down a snowy road. Emma wished she’d avoided the truth, made some casual observation about the season being perfect for a little time away or something empty like that. But she also wanted Grant to know. She believed people sometimes changed once they knew about her past. As if their attitude shifted. Feeling sorry for her or thinking she was somehow different. But maybe she hated pity so much she detected it everywhere. And that pesky feeling of not belonging had to shut up for a change.
The charm bracelet moved on her arm, and a smile came up. She might not have parents to buy her charms for it, but she could buy them herself. Remind herself from day to day what she had achieved.
I can do it. Emma sat up as if to imprint the words upon her heart. I have the shop, my own home over it, and I’m building my dream. The past is over and done with, it’s a new beginning.
…
Grant clenched the wheel. He could kick himself for having reminded her of her loss. He wanted her to relax and have fun, like they had this morning in the snow, talking about dogs and making dreams come true. He glanced at her. The thoughtful expression on her face was painful to watch, but he just couldn’t stop looking. He wanted to know exactly what she was thinking, feeling.
When Lily had died, he had been in shock, yes, but he had been able to make his own decisions. Leave his job, sell the house, move away. He had been able to take back control any way he knew how.
But Emma had been a child, in the care of others, who had decided for her what was best. Alone with her own thoughts and drawing her own conclusions about the situation.
His heart clenched when he thought of Casey, in tears, a few weeks after Lily’s death, asking him, “Didn’t she love me anymore?”
“Of course she loved you,” he had replied, stunned by her question, racing to figure out how on earth she had gotten that idea into her head.
It had been hard to make out her answer as it had been strangled by her sobbing. But finally, he had pieced it together. “Then why did she leave me if she still loved me?”
Had Emma felt that same way? Abandoned when she had needed her parents most? At least he had been there for Casey to hold her tightly against his heart, even though it hadn’t been him she wanted but her mommy who wasn’t coming back. Emma hadn’t had anyone to hold on to, nothing to rely on as she had been moved from address to address.
Grant inhaled hard and pushed the accelerator.
Emma glanced at him. “It’s not safe to go too fast on this icy roa
d.”
The purely practical assessment brought him back to reality and immediately he slowed. “Sorry.” He clenched the wheel. “I can just get so angry that… Kids shouldn’t be going through grief. Not in a major way, you know. I guess we all face setbacks but…”
“Some setbacks are bigger than others,” she agreed. She smoothed her scarf across her knees, and her body posture seemed to relax. “I’m sorry if I brought up my parents in a brusque way. I didn’t think about how it would be for you. Casey does have you, of course, but she also lost her mother. I guess that was why I wanted to help her when she first came into my shop and asked about the bonbons for you.”
“That’s okay,” he rushed to say. “Please don’t apologize. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me. That you have to tiptoe around me. Too many people did that. But I can handle it.” He added with a rueful grimace, “At least, I can now.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Doesn’t it sneak back up on you when you least expect it? I opened up the shop, I was so happy, and I stood in there looking about me and boom, I thought what if my mom could have been here? What if she could hug me now and tell me she was”—her voice quivered—“proud of me?”
Grant swallowed. “I’m sure she would have been.”
“I hope so.” Emma was silent a moment. “I remember her baking cakes with me. Chocolate cakes, and I could put the frosting on top. I like to think that when she could see me now making my chocolates, she would think I had always had that in me.”
Grant nodded. “My wife used to paint with Casey. Lily was an artist. She had her own studio in our home. She worked with charcoal and oil paint and watercolors. There wasn’t a lot she couldn’t do. She was going to get an exhibition, in an art gallery, just a few weeks from the day she…” He shook his head. “It’s crazy but one of the first things I thought when they told me that Lily had passed away was: that can’t be, because she has to exhibit her paintings.”
Emma didn’t say anything. He listened to her quiet breathing beside him, telling him she was still there and waiting for him to continue.
“It was also one of the hardest things to face when I came home. The paintings that were so full of life while she was…” He glanced at her. “I still can’t understand that. I guess I don’t want to think too much about it. How your life can change in a split second when things go wrong. Up in the air I block all that. If I allow the thought that my plane can fall from the sky, I’d be paralyzed and make bad decisions. Instead, I tell myself that flying is safer than driving. And it works.” He laughed softly. “You have no idea what it’s like to be up there and feel free. Weightless almost. Not literally of course, there’s still gravity, but—things are different. Not as important. I can’t wait to get back to it.”
“I can imagine. It’s wonderful when you do something, and your heart is in it.”
Grant nodded. “My parents won’t agree, though. They think it’s a great arrangement to have me here with Casey. There’s always someone to look after her. And I can help out with the tree farm. To them it’s the answer to everything.”
“But you don’t think so?”
“I never meant to stay here.” Grant inhaled slowly. He had no idea what she’d think of him if he told her this. But I need to tell someone. “I know it sounds selfish. But I needed a place to recuperate. To know for sure that Casey was safe, and I could just…go out among the trees and dig and chop for a day. Until, I was so tired, I couldn’t see straight anymore. I just dug and chopped my way through it.”
He glanced at her. “I had to create a haven for Casey and find my own feet again. Now I feel like I have. And I need to take that final step. You know, in college I played basketball and I hurt my ankle, couldn’t play for a while. When I got back to it, my coach said he could see I moved differently. That I tried to avoid putting my full weight on the ankle. He told me that it’s all about trust. That my recovery wasn’t complete until the moment when I’d jump and score like I used to, not thinking about the ankle at all. I’m ready for that now. To jump back into life, with Casey. She’s my first priority. Always will be.”
…
He’s ready to move on just as you’ve met. What kind of timing is that?
Why did her bonds with people always come with an expiration date?
At least you know. And don’t you forget it.
They whooshed through a gate with a wooden name tag overhead, reading Galloway Tree Nursery. In the distance, friendly light winked at them. Nerves tightened her stomach at the prospect of seeing his parents, his sister Fay and her husband. The entire family around Grant and Casey. He wanted her input on the fair, but would his parents also appreciate a virtual stranger butting in?
She ran a hand through her hair, untangling a few knots. The familiar movement calmed her heartbeat.
You’re just here to help. No big deal.
The car halted beside the house, and someone opened the door. Casey ran to the top of the steps leading onto the porch and beamed at her. “You’re here! Daddy told me you would be coming.”
As soon as Emma got out, Casey grabbed her arm and pulled her down to her level. In a whisper she said, “Do you think the chocolates are working?”
Staring into the girl’s excited eyes, Emma struggled for the right answer. “I don’t know. But your daddy is very lucky to have such a sweet little girl who wants him to be happy.”
Casey nodded. “I thought about making a wish. To put in the Christmas tree at the community center. A wish that Daddy will fall in love with Miss Evelyn.”
The bottom fell from Emma’s stomach. A public announcement like that? Half the town reading it and thinking something of it…
“But I’m not going to do it. That tree doesn’t work. Last year I wished for Mommy to come back to us. But she didn’t.” Casey studied her feet, her expression tight with tension.
Emma’s eyes burned. When her mom died, Emma had made the same wish. That everything would return to normal. That she wouldn’t be alone anymore. But no matter how many times she had closed her eyes and wished hard that, when she opened them again, she’d be home in their apartment, and Mommy would come in and smile at her, lean down to hug her, it had never happened.
“Hey.” Grant appeared and scooped the little girl off her feet into his arms. “I missed you.” He held her close and rubbed his cheek over hers. “Got things ready for us?”
Casey nodded. Her eyes lit, and her smile came back full force. “Grandpa is in the big barn.” She wriggled to free herself. “Put me down. I want to take Emma there.”
Pouting as if he was disappointed that he got so little attention, Grant put Casey down and the girl offered her hand to Emma. The warmth of that trusting grasp seeped deep into her palm. The sad feeling about the past evaporated on the cold air. This place was special to Casey and Grant and they were going to show her around in their kingdom. Can’t wait to see it all…
Chapter Seven
The big barn turned out to be a tall wooden building with a double door large enough for machines to move in and out. A year was carved into the lintel over the door. 1918. Just imagine that. Generations of Galloways had been working this land and building a future for their family here in Wood Creek.
A smaller door sat beside the huge double doors, and Casey pulled Emma through it, into the barn’s wide-open space. Electric light from above fell on numerous Christmas trees that had been dug out with their roots still on it or cut off and stood waiting to be transported to customers. The sharp scent of wood and pine mixed with something sweeter. And the cold of the winter air outside also breathed in here, although the tug of the wind was gone, taking the edge off the chill.
Counting quickly how many trees were there, Emma marveled, “What are these still doing here? I thought people bought their tree well in advance.”
“Most do,” Grant’s voice said from behind her. “But there are always late deciders. Some people even come here on Christm
as Eve to pick up a tree, because they suddenly got guests over and are missing a tree, or because they want an extra one to put on their porch or in another room than the living room. All these will be shipped off to the Christmas market in Harker tomorrow afternoon.”
“How far are you with preparations for the fair here?” So far, she hadn’t seen anything that suggested a Christmas fair with regional attraction was about to take place here on the terrain. Where are they hiding it?
“I’ll show you in a minute. Let Casey find Grandpa first.” He nodded with a grin at the little girl who was running around between the trees looking for her grandfather.
At last, an excited cry rang out and Casey reappeared pulling along a jovial man with a barrel chest and white beard. The Santa I remembered the moment Casey mentioned the name Galloway to me.
He smiled at her as he barged over, reaching out his free hand. “Welcome to the tree nursery. I’ve heard so much about you. Casey told me you have the best shop in the world.” He winked. “I asked her if it was even better than the toy shop.”
Casey pouted. “Grandpa is mean like that.” Then she pressed a kiss on his hand. “But I love him anyway.”
Emma blinked against the burn behind her eyes. If I just had grandparents and could be part of a large family like this.
Grant said, “Emma wants to see where we’ll be setting up the Christmas fair.”
Galloway nodded. “Sure. Follow me.” He took her through the barn, out of a door on the other side. There was a large open space there, snow covered and kind of desolate.
Emma stared round it, shivering in the chilly breeze and ducking deeper into her coat’s upturned collar. She rubbed her hands together and glanced at Galloway. “Here?”
He grinned at her disbelief. “Two days before the fair, a company will put up the booths. Then we will decorate them and the grounds. You’ll see, it’s going to be magical.”
