by Olivia Miles
Molly looked confused. “You mean you don’t?”
“I guess I just assumed everyone in town got their coffee at the Annex. I mean, I do.” Kara sighed, thinking of Main Street Books’ café. They sold coffee. And tea. And all sorts of food items. Okay, so she was messing up. Just as she had feared. She’d been open for over a month and she was selling cookies and milk and nothing else to drink. And she made a mean hot chocolate. What had she been thinking?
It was an oversight. A big one. She’d been so focused on her cookies and the decorations, she’d overlooked the obvious.
Dread coated her chest like an icy bath. She could picture the shop, boarded up, the awning faded, the sign taken down, the FOR LEASE sign in the window right where her candy cane decorations now hung, sparkling against the setting sun. She could picture her mother, Mrs. Griffin, even Nate, that know-it-all, walking by, shaking their heads, saying yep, they knew it, no surprise there. It was just a matter of time, after all.
Well, that cemented it. Tomorrow morning she’d be offering coffee. And tea. And hot chocolate. With a candy cane tucked to the side for good measure.
She’d get mugs made up with her logo, too. For now, she’d have to borrow some from her mother’s house. And hope they didn’t break. And hope her mother didn’t ask questions, like why she didn’t have her own mugs yet and why, so long after opening, had she only just begun to offer beverages?
The group in the corner finally left, and Kara picked up her broom and dustpan and walked over to the table. “Mind turning the sign on the door?” she asked her sister as she began cleaning the mess. “I doubt anyone else will be stopping in before I officially close in five minutes.”
She needed some time to think, to focus on her baking, doing what she loved. She needed to get Mrs. Griffin’s arrogant nephew out of her head… every last bit of him, down to that cocky grin and those perfect teeth. He’d probably be Molly’s type—she loved the preppy, well-bred look—if she wasn’t already engaged to Todd. Molly liked the city guys, but then Molly had always been more confident. Maybe it was because she was the baby, always doted on and told she was cute, whereas Kara had always floated, a little unsure, wary of her role as eldest daughter under their mother’s somewhat critical eye. Rosemary Hastings had a strong personality, and she wasn’t shy with her opinions.
Not unlike someone else Kara knew… Oh, how she dreaded the thought of delivering those cookies to the inn tomorrow. She bent to pick up the crumbs with the dustpan, trying to recall how long Mr. MBA planned to stick around town.
“Hey, you busy tomorrow?” Kara asked Molly.
Molly shrugged. “Not especially. But please don’t tell Mom that. She’ll put me to work on the decorations again, and you know I won’t do it right.”
Kara gave a little smile. “She obviously has a vision.”
“You should have seen her trying to pry the information out of Grace last night, to see what her mother is planning. We all know Kathleen will win. I’m not sure why Mom is even trying.”
“Because it’s fun for her. And because she loves it.” Kara knew their mother could be competitive, but the ballet studio’s performance of The Nutcracker was far more important to her than the version she had going on at the house. “It’s a way to get into the spirit of the season.”
“I suppose.” Molly didn’t look convinced. “Anyway, what did you have in mind?”
“I was wondering if you could do some deliveries for me tomorrow. I’ll pay you.”
Molly’s blue eyes softened. “No payment required. That’s what sisters are for. Besides, I owe you a bit of my time if you’re going to be helping me so much.”
Kara led them into the kitchen and deposited the crumbs in the trash bin. “You sure you won’t be busy with wedding planning?”
“Oh.” Molly turned away, falling silent for a moment. “You know me… I’ve had my wedding planned for years. I was just waiting for the right guy to come along and fulfill the fantasy.” Her laugh seemed a little hollow.
Considering that Molly was in the wedding industry, it made sense, Kara thought as she washed her hands and dried them on a towel, but Molly seemed distracted, distant almost. “Are you sure everything is okay?” she ventured, giving her sister a hesitant smile as she leaned against the counter. “I don’t mind taking a break if you’d like to talk. We could have some tea? Or hot chocolate? We can even splurge and go for extra whipped cream.”
Immediately, Molly smiled, but it didn’t seem to quite meet her eyes. “Of course everything is okay. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m engaged. I have a gorgeous ring, a gorgeous fiancé, and I’m going to have a gorgeous wedding. And it’s Christmas. What’s not to be happy about? Besides, look at how busy you are! I’m here to help you, remember?”
Kara tried not to frown as she pulled some dough from the refrigerator and reached for her rolling pin. If Molly said everything was okay, she’d go along with it for now. “So, when is Todd arriving?”
“Oh.” Molly looked a little pale. “He’s not coming for Christmas. I thought I told you that.”
Kara did her best to keep her expression neutral, even though warning bells were going off in her mind. Her sister was uneasy, that much was clear, and Todd wasn’t coming for Christmas. There were many things wrong with this picture.
“No, you didn’t mention it.”
Molly wandered around the kitchen and stopped to pick up a few cookie cutters. “Oh, I thought I did. He’s tied up with work. A big case. He has a really important job.”
Kara nodded politely, telling herself to stay out of it. If Molly was happy, then she would be happy for her, especially if her decision was already made. And who knew, maybe Todd really was busy with a big case. Maybe he had altruistically insisted that Molly go back to Briar Creek on her own.
Kara highly doubted this.
“You didn’t want to stay in the city with him?” she asked.
Molly seemed momentarily stricken. She studied the cookie cutters, then set them down. “Oh, no… He’d be busy at the office the whole time anyway. Besides, we’ll have lots of Christmases together. In the future…” She seemed to gulp.
“Well,” Kara said, deciding not to press, “Ivy makes the best bouquets. We can go over to Petals on Main together while you’re in town.”
“Perfect.” Molly grinned. “So what about you… any men in your life? You know you’re welcome to bring a date to my wedding.”
Kara gave her sister a long look, but she couldn’t deny the pang in her chest when she considered a date on her arm. For some reason she envisioned Nate Griffin. Nonsense!
“Oh, no, I don’t have time to date,” she said, brushing away the twinge of hurt she felt. She’d never had a serious boyfriend, and the men she’d gone out with off and on over the years never really made her feel that spark. She cut herself some slack; after all, who could really feel something all that magical with the man she’d watched pick his nose all through English class from first through fourth grade, for example?
Kara sighed. There were certainly some limitations to small-town life. Not that she would trade it for the world.
“I just haven’t found that spark yet,” she clarified, and Molly nodded sagely. Perhaps that was what Molly and Todd had; perhaps it explained everything. They had a spark. She’d heard it was a powerful thing.
“Besides, where would I meet anyone?” Wasn’t that the truth, Kara thought to herself. Briar Creek was hardly a viable dating pool, and the one man she’d found interesting in years was just passing through town.
She frowned and tried not to let that thought depress her too much. Her friends insisted she should try online dating, and maybe she would. Once she had the business under control. And Nate’s all too handsome face out of her head.
“Okay, I won’t push it,” Molly said, holding up two hands in defense. “But I do think that when Mr. Right comes along, he’ll have been worth your wait. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t take too long.” She wink
ed. “Now, where do you need me to deliver these cookies tomorrow?”
“To the inn,” Kara said, happy to have dodged that visit for at least one day. But Briar Creek was small, and chances were she’d be running into Nate again before he left town.
This time, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Well, not completely…
Maggie was waiting for him in the lobby when Nate returned a few hours after tea had finished. He stomped the snow off his boots and hung his coat on the rack near the door.
“I made dinner for us,” Maggie said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the back of the inn, where an addition housed her private quarters. Like the inn itself, it was decorated with traditional furnishings, only unlike the inn, there were no decorations in sight. No tree, he noticed as he entered the small sitting room. No stockings, either. Frowning, he followed her into the kitchen, where, as promised, a roast and potatoes were waiting on the stove.
“I thought we could talk about the Holiday House contest,” Maggie said as she plated the food.
“Sure,” Nate agreed, taking a seat opposite the head of the small rectangular table. Did his aunt eat here alone night after night, while her guests went to restaurants? The thought of it saddened him. But then, maybe she liked solitude. Maybe, like him, she was too busy to notice or feel the emptiness. “So, what were you thinking? A little tinsel? A tree near the mantel? Some stockings? Maybe some colored lights on the bay window over there?” He gestured to the sitting room, just beyond the kitchen.
Maggie looked at him in overt shock. “Tinsel? Colored lights?” she almost screeched. She began muttering to herself as she crossed the kitchen and took a three-ring binder from a shelf. Instead of bringing him his plate, she set the binder on his place mat with purpose.
Nate stared at the object. “What is this?”
Maggie quietly brought the plates to the table and took her seat. She took her time opening her cloth napkin and setting it in her lap. She took a sip of her wine. “First of all, we’ll need a theme. I’ve envisioned… the twelve days of Christmas.”
Nate slid the binder to the side under his aunt’s disapproving pinch of the lips. He took a bite of creamy potatoes, all at once recalling her promise to fatten him up for the holidays, and then thought, to hell with it, and took another. She also seemed determined to give him some work to do, so he didn’t need to feel guilty about not hitting the gym.
“Are you familiar with the song?” she asked.
“Um. Vaguely,” Nate replied. He took another bite of his dinner. It was warm and buttery and delicious. But instead of feeling happy, it brought out a sense of sadness in him, a loss that he didn’t like to think about. There weren’t enough dinners like this growing up, and the few times there were, they were too cherished to even be fully enjoyed. So rare it was almost impossible not to think of how special they were.
He forced another piece of roast into his mouth. No use going down that path. He ate in the best restaurants now. Could afford the best wine, even if he didn’t buy it. And his parents… He’d sent his parents on a cruise.
He couldn’t undo the pain of their past. But he could sure as hell make up for it now. And he did. And he would. Forever.
“I seem to recall something about a partridge in a pear tree,” he said to his aunt, steering himself back to the present. It was better to stay there, in the current moment, than to dwell on the dark days.
“Well, why don’t I remind you?” His aunt set down her fork and began quietly humming before breaking out into song.
Nate felt his jaw slack as her voice croaked on the last line of the first verse, hoping that would be enough, but no, she was going for another round, grinning away, undeterred by an audience. He laughed under his breath for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of joke, his aunt’s coy way of getting him into the spirit, but she just narrowed her eyes on him without missing a beat and continued along with the carol.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but as her voice carried out the long notes, quivering at times the way one might hear in the opera, it took everything in him to force back his smile.
By the fifth verse, he had to bring his fist to his mouth, sinking his teeth into his hand, biting hard enough that he feared he might break the skin, his eyes stinging as his shoulders shook, as his aunt went through all twelve versus.
He could have stopped her at the first—she’d jogged his memory by then, even if she was painfully out of tune—but she seemed to be enjoying herself so much, her voice growing louder and more confident, that he didn’t have the heart to hold up a hand.
“Oh, I’ve brought tears to your eyes.” Maggie gave him an indulgent smile as she picked up her fork and knife, her Christmas carol now finished. “You were always such a sensitive boy. It was a shame that you never had any brothers or sisters, but then…”
She trailed off, and Nate was happy she did. He never knew the reason why his parents never had more children, but it was the practical choice, even if not the emotional one. Both of his parents had worked around the clock to keep a roof over their heads. Another child would have been another expense.
God knew what a burden he was at times.
He reached for his tall glass of milk, again wishing it was something stronger. He’d go down to the pub tonight. The walk would clear his head. The drink… perhaps it might lift his spirits. And maybe Kara would be there… Now there was a thought. From what he’d seen, there was only one bar in town. Although, if last night was any indication, she worked well into the night. He liked a strong work ethic. It made her even more appealing.
Deciding to risk exciting his aunt, he took a sip of milk and set the glass down. “So, Kara… does she come by the inn every day?”
As expected, Maggie’s green eyes widened and a knowing smirk curved her mouth. “She supplies the cookies for my holiday tea, so yes, she drops by every day in December. She usually comes by in the late morning, in case you’re interested.”
“I didn’t say I was interested,” Nate replied. Only he was interested. Very interested. Not just in her pretty face, but in her determination. She stuck up for herself, and he admired that. God knew he could relate to it. Life was tough enough when you backed down, and he’d never been one to do that.
“Pretty girl,” his aunt mused, bringing her glass to her lips.
“Hmm.” Nate pushed the food around on his plate. “She runs the bakery all on her own, then?”
It was hard to fathom, knowing what he did of the food industry. He’d been asked to consult on a few restaurants, and a strong team was crucial for success and profitability. A one-woman shop was far from efficient. But then, employees were expensive, and they needed to be properly managed, too.
Across the table, his aunt nodded. “She opened it at the beginning of October. Dumped everything she had into the place, too.”
Nate raised his eyebrows. A dangerous move, and not one he’d have advised. She looked to be in her late twenties. “She must have scrimped and saved everything she’d ever made then,” he remarked.
“Oh no.” Maggie shook her head. “Inheritance.”
Nate felt his shoulders deflate a little. Of course. He picked up his fork and resumed eating. There was no point discussing Kara or her bakery again. He knew the type of girl she was. Opportunities were handed over, not earned. She didn’t know how the other half lived.
Too bad. She was really pretty. But she clearly wasn’t the one for him.
CHAPTER 5
Kara stared wearily across the town square to the Main Street Bed and Breakfast, a box of three dozen snowflake cookies clutched in her hands. She cursed under her breath and resumed her walk, saying a silent prayer as she crunched through the snow that she could get in and out without so much as a glimpse of Nate or his cocky grin.
If only Molly had been able to help out, but she’d ended up getting a last-minute appointment at a bridal shop half an hour away, and because Kara felt guilty enough for not being able t
o break away from the shop to go with her, she’d seen no choice but to tell her sister that of course it was fine, she’d deliver the cookies herself, that it was no big deal, obviously.
Except that it was. And with each step she took that brought her closer to the inn, her heart pounded just a little faster; she was already having internal arguments with Mrs. Griffin’s nephew in her head, her defense detailed on a mental list she’d added to as she’d iced each individual cookie.
She hurried past the pond, where skaters were laughing on the ice, and crossed the street to the big white inn, her eyes darting. No sign of him yet, but the lobby would be the true test. Head bent, she jogged up the stairs, almost falling a few times, and, with one last breath for courage, pushed through the front door.
Inside, the air was warm and fragrant and a fire crackled in the hearth. Guests milled about, talking in low voices, but from the swift sweep of her gaze, Nate was not to be seen. Kara slipped into the dining room, which was mercifully empty, and set the box of cookies on the buffet table against the far wall. Mrs. Griffin was often busy with housekeeping or other guest duties when Kara stopped by. No need to linger. Especially not with that smug nephew possibly under the roof.
She hurried back into the lobby and out the front door, gulping the cold air as she giggled to herself. She’d done it. In and out, without an altercation. Now, to just repeat the scenario until Nate went back to Boston, his fancy job, his fancy apartment, and his fancy car… all the results of his fancy degree.
“Careful of the ice!” a voice called out as she ran down the front steps.
Kara felt her stomach drop as she came to a halt, gripping the iron railing. She looked over her shoulder to see Nate coming around the side of the inn, looking even more handsome than she remembered. And it was an image she’d tried to forget. He wore a forest-green sweater under an open charcoal-gray wool jacket, jeans, and boots that must have belonged to Mrs. Griffin’s late husband. His hair was tousled, his hazel eyes impossible to read under the hood of his brow, his grin friendly.
