Christmas Comes to Main Street

by Olivia Miles

  “Still, you’d do a better job at it than I could, and I just think this would be such a dramatic statement. Imagine, right there, above the mantel, when the judges walk in… the twelve days of Christmas. In acrylic. Or oil…” She stared at the rather boring-looking wreath that currently occupied the space, as if she could see something he did not.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie, but I don’t even have the supplies.”

  “There’s an art store on Main Street!”

  He sighed. “I don’t have the time.”

  “You have nothing but time. It doesn’t need to be a van Gogh.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, his temper beginning to bite. “I don’t want to, okay?” Damn, his tone had been sharper than he’d expected, and a look of surprise flashed in his aunt’s eyes. He hated the hurt that followed, but this was one time he was going to have to turn the other cheek. “I’m sorry, Aunt Maggie. I’m happy to help any way I can, but I do have to put my foot down here.”

  She nodded her head slowly. “I understand,” she said. “I just… thought I’d ask.”

  Nate released a shaky breath as an awkward silence stretched. “I think I’ll go grab a shower,” he said, and turned to the stairs without another word.

  CHAPTER 11

  Hastings was buzzing when Nate pushed through the door the next day, his gaze quickly drifting to the counter, hoping for another glance of Kara. Shame bit at him when he thought of how quick he was to misjudge her—but one thing he wouldn’t take back were his suggestions for her bakery. She wanted it to succeed. Needed it to succeed. He’d find a way to mention some of his other ideas without stoking her temper, although with that work ethic and attitude, she might not need his help after all.

  He smiled to himself as he slipped into a booth and pulled the menu from behind the napkin dispenser. Not only was she pretty and smart, but she was also almost as driven as he was. After all, Kara was probably hard at work right now, icing cookies and cleaning up after customers, not kicking back for an early lunch and a third cup of coffee.

  He turned his mug over as the woman he recognized from last week walked by with the pitcher of coffee. She stopped to fill his cup, leaving room for cream, and smiled at him. “Still in town, I see.”

  Nate shrugged. “Just through the holidays. I leave the day after Christmas.” Just the thought of going back to his empty apartment left him cold. He silenced that thought with a sip of hot brew. He was on vacation—and no vacation lasted forever. Any town could feel like paradise in a small dose.

  “Shame. Corned beef and cabbage happens to be my specialty.” Sharon grinned. She took his order and left with the promise to return for refills.

  Nate settled back against his seat, sipping his coffee and listening to the Christmas carols that were almost smothered by the din of the customers. He was in no hurry, even though he knew there was a lot more to be done at the inn, and he didn’t want his aunt lifting anything heavy while he was away. This morning, she’d simply smiled at him, pretended like nothing was wrong, and busied herself by talking to guests and passing around her peppermint scones.

  He knew his aunt meant well, but she’d touched a nerve. Picking up a paintbrush was something he hadn’t done since he’d left high school. Doing so now would be like going back, and he didn’t want to think about those days.

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his emails, happy to distance himself from Briar Creek and the strange and overly comfortable bonds he was forming here. His life was in Boston. His job. His friends. His fancy apartment and his fancy car… He thinned his lips.

  By the time his food arrived, he’d caught up on work, enough to feel clearheaded and capable of facing his aunt with some perspective. She might not understand his choices, but they’d been made for a reason. And he was better for the path he’d chosen. They all were, he thought, thinking of his parents.

  After leaving a generous tip and sticking around long enough to give a personal goodbye to Sharon, Nate pushed out onto Main Street. The snow had started again, and the wreaths and garland that covered windows and doors were dusted with white powder. Nate passed the art store his aunt had been sure to mention and kept his eyes straight ahead. Another time, another place. He held his chin high, looking instead at the pink and white striped awning, his pulse picking up speed as he thought of Kara tucked inside, wearing that apron that cinched at the waist and hugged her in the all the right places, greeting customers with a wide smile and bright blue eyes.

  He checked his watch. She’d probably be stopping by the inn soon with today’s cookie delivery. He’d save her the time by picking them up himself.

  Slowing his pace as he approached the storefront, he glanced through the frosted window, his spirits lifting when he saw her standing behind the counter, plating a dessert for an older woman and a little girl. She grinned when he walked in, her cheeks flushing a bit as she turned her attention to the cash register.

  “Busy day,” he commented when he moved to the front of the line.

  “You could say that again.” Though her smile was wide, her eyes lacked some of the sparkle he’d seen the day before. She wiped a loose strand of hair from her forehead with her wrist. “Are you by any chance here to pick up the cookies?”

  “Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

  “You’re a sweetheart,” she said, and then, her eyes widening, began stammering to backtrack.

  Amused and flattered, he held up a hand. “Consider the favor all mine. I’m afraid I’ve had a bit of an argument with my aunt and I’m finding ways to stall my return.” He felt his brow pinch when he recalled the hurt in Maggie’s eyes. He hated to turn her down, but there were some things he wouldn’t back down on, and going back to his high school hobby was one of them.

  She slipped him a grin. “She has a strong personality. Believe me, you’ll know how much I understand when you meet my mother.”

  He felt his shoulders relax when he caught the gleam in her eye. “Ah, yes. The famous Rosemary of the Nutcracker-themed Holiday House.”

  Kara sighed as she grabbed a rag and began wiping down the smooth white and gray marble counter. “The very one. Though I don’t think she really cares too much about the contest. The Nutcracker, however…” She looked up to meet his eye. “You should come see it. I mean, if you want to… Ballet’s not everyone’s thing.” Her cheeks grew pink as she began scrubbing at some spilled coffee.

  “When is it?”

  She stopped scrubbing for a moment. “The night before Christmas Eve.”

  If his aunt didn’t already have tickets, no doubt she’d love a night out on the town. It might be just the way to make things up to her and overcome their little tiff yesterday. “I’ll plan on it.”

  She looked up at him, seeming a little startled, but her mouth curved into a pleased grin, and Nate felt something within him stir. He had a strange urge to reach over and brush that loose strand of hair from her cheek, to linger a little longer in the shop, and not just because he was avoiding his aunt.

  “Great. Tickets are twelve dollars apiece, and this year, half the proceeds are going to families in need. If you’re able to donate any nonperishables, we have a food drive set up in the lobby.”

  Nate grew silent as his good mood immediately vanished. “That’s a really noble cause,” he managed.

  Kara set the rag down and shrugged. “It’s the least we can do. If we all work together as a community, then every family can have a special holiday.”

  He nodded, his jaw set tight. He could still remember the ringing of the doorbell, the sound of a woman’s voice, his mother teary with gratitude and well wishes. He’d come running to see what was going on, and there was a lady, dressed in a crimson wool coat with shiny buttons and a black fur collar, a huge basket in her hand, tied with a big gold ribbon. That Christmas they’d had a feast. He knew they were supposed to be happy about it, supposed to be grateful, and they were, but his father had sat at the table in silence. He didn’t
go to church with them that year, and Nate remembered being confused that his mother hadn’t made a fuss. He was out of a job, his mother had explained. But he’d get one, she’d countered brightly. And then… then things would be better, she’d promised.

  “I’ll be sure to bring something,” he said, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to banish the image. “Just food, no toys?”

  “Oh…” Kara shook her head. “We do a coat drive. My cousin Brett, Sharon’s younger son, runs a clinic as an extension of the emergency room at the Forest Ridge Hospital. He helps with the donations. We’d love to do more, but we’re only one family.”

  Sometimes one family was all it took. “I’d be happy to help with a toy drive,” he volunteered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He thought of the toy shop he’d passed on Main Street his first day here, the gifts he would have loved to have received and never did. He felt a spark of something he couldn’t quite pinpoint—hope perhaps. Or maybe closure. It would feel good to give back, to make someone else’s Christmas one to remember, to take the burden off the parents, give them a holiday to enjoy, too.

  Kara blinked at him. “You’d do that?”

  “Every kid deserves to wake up to something special under the tree.” Nate swallowed hard, determined to keep his memories in the past, where they belonged. “Consider it taken care of. Would it be okay to collect everything at the show?”

  “Would it? That would be wonderful!” Kara beamed.

  Nate tried to keep his expression neutral, but he was struggling not to match Kara’s enthusiasm. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.” And as he turned to leave, he realized with a lightness in his step that he was.

  Kara could barely keep the smile from taking over her face as she slipped into the kitchen to get the box of snowflake cookies she’d prepared that morning for the inn. A toy drive would be just the thing to round out their Christmas donations. She could just imagine the joy in the children’s faces when they came downstairs to find that doll or game they’d been wanting. She loved spoiling her friend Jane’s daughter, Sophie, as they all did, but she had a feeling she’d find it just as rewarding, if not more so, to brighten the holiday of a child in need, even if she wasn’t there to see them open the gift.

  Kara sneezed, managing to quickly snatch a tissue from the box first. That was at least the tenth that morning. Her eyes watered as she rubbed her nose and then washed her hands, pleading silently with herself to pull it together. She couldn’t get sick. Who would run the counter? Who would make the Christmas cookies and the gingerbread houses?

  She was just run-down. Worn out and exhausted. She’d try to get to bed early tonight, and with any luck she’d wake feeling refreshed and energized.

  She sneezed again and released a long whimper into the tissue. Maybe it would be a twenty-four-hour thing. Or maybe it was just dust.

  Kara washed her hands and then grabbed the box of cookies from the counter. She took a moment to linger, looking at the progress she’d made so far for her Holiday House. She smiled, feeling her heart tug a little at the memories it stirred up, and then, squaring her shoulders, she pushed through the kitchen door and into the storefront. Instead of giving a little squeeze, her heart began to skip and dance when she caught Nate’s eye and he gave her one of his slow, friendly grins.

  It was sad to think that in a little over a week he’d be gone. He’d started to feel like a fixture in her day, and one she very much looked forward to.

  He’s a friend, she reminded herself. Nothing more.

  “Here you go, sir.” She smiled as she handed over the box, feeling the heat of his hand on hers as their fingers grazed each other. His skin was smooth and masculine and the tingle that ripped down her spine and made her stomach tingle told her that he was much more than a friend. Or he could be. If circumstances were a little different.

  She sighed and let her hand fall. No use wishing for things that couldn’t be.

  “These smell delicious.” Nate flipped the lid and peeked inside the box. “And they look delicious, too.”

  “No stealing any,” Kara warned. “I don’t need your aunt giving me any grief when she doesn’t have enough for her guests.”

  “I’ve gotten you in enough trouble with Maggie for one visit,” Nate replied, winking. “Besides, she’s probably too annoyed with me to start trouble with you.”

  Kara’s curiosity piqued, but she decided not to pry. “By this time tomorrow she’ll be singing your praises to anyone who will listen,” Kara said, laughing.

  Nate pulled a face. “I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.”

  “It’s a good thing,” Kara said firmly. “It’s important to have someone in your corner.” She frowned a little when she thought of her mother. Rosemary had made great strides when it came to supporting Sugar and Spice, but the little comments were a reminder that she hadn’t won her mother over just yet. But she intended to. She intended to win them all over. And it started with winning that Holiday House contest. “How’s the Holiday House coming along?”

  Nate shrugged. “Fine, but I’m not sure what my aunt will do to me if we don’t win.” He waggled his eyebrows and Kara laughed. “Dare I ask about your entry?”

  “You may.” Kara tipped her head, considering how much she wanted to give away. Something about the project was special to her, personal even. It wasn’t just a test of her baking and decorating skills; it was also an opportunity to reconnect with memories she sometimes didn’t dare to dwell on. “It’s going well. I’m feeling… confident.”

  Confident. She blinked and smiled to herself when she realized how true this was.

  Nate lifted an eyebrow. “Well, don’t get too sure of yourself. Word is that Kathleen Madison is a force to be reckoned with.”

  Kara had to laugh. “Stick around Briar Creek much longer and you’ll officially be a local.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad, actually.” He held her gaze, his eyes filling with warmth.

  Kara felt her insides quiver, and she glanced away, wishing there was something closer by to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied. She needed to stop feeling this way every time their eyes met or he flashed her that grin. He was a handsome man. And sadly, an unavailable one.

  “Small-town life is growing on you, then?” She held her breath, daring to hope for the answer she wanted, even though she knew it was probably a lost cause. Christmas was only eight days away—suddenly a holiday she cherished so much was now one she associated with dread. Nate would be gone after Christmas, and given his history, chances were he wouldn’t be returning again for a while.

  “A bit. But don’t tell my aunt Maggie.” Nate tipped his head as his gaze drifted over her face. “Are you feeling all right? You seem a bit… pale.”

  Her hand shot up to her cheek. Not beautiful. Not pretty. But… pale.

  “I’m fine,” she strained to say through a weak smile. “Just a little tired. There’s a lot going on right now.”

  “Ever think about cutting back?”

  She stared at him. “Are you forgetting that I just opened this business?”

  “I meant with the other stuff.”

  “Says the man who challenged me to enter the Holiday House contest,” she remarked, wagging a playful finger at him. “I’m afraid I’m just not willing to scale back, not right now. But I have gotten a little better at saying no to people.” Even if it made her feel terrible.

  “Well, I shouldn’t keep you then.”

  Kara knew she should get back to work, but disappointment swelled. She’d looked forward to this visit all morning, and now she’d have to wait until tomorrow to see him again. There wouldn’t be many more tomorrows left.

  Brightening, she thought of the toy drive. Perhaps she was wrong; there might be a few extra chances for conversation after all.

  She waved as she watched him walk out the door and onto the snowy sidewalk. And then she sneezed four times in a row before scurrying back to the kitchen.

&nb
sp; CHAPTER 12

  The grandfather clock at the base of the stairs in the inn’s lobby chimed one o’clock. Nate frowned and cast another glance out the window. It was a gray day—the sun having never shown its face all morning—and the lights from Main Street and the town square shone brightly across the blanket of snow.

  It wasn’t like Kara to be late, but then, tea didn’t start for another hour. Still, she did look pale yesterday. With newfound purpose in his stride, Nate decided to feel out the situation with his aunt.

  He’d been avoiding Maggie since their awkward conversation the other night, and he welcomed the opportunity to change the subject and, hopefully, make a fresh start. He owed her an explanation, but he didn’t want to get into details. A tricky balance with the curious nature of her personality.

  He found her in the kitchen, pulling some ginger cakes from the oven. She’d baked them in loaf tins in various holiday shapes. One was made to look like a large Christmas tree, complete with a star on top, while the other was of three gingerbread men.

  She brightened when he appeared in the doorway and then quickly handed him a strange-looking metal object.

  “It’s a sifter,” she informed him. And then, noticing his blank expression, she said, “For the powdered sugar. Make it look like snow!”

  He did a poor job at suppressing his smile but was nevertheless grateful for the task. “Show me how this works. I don’t want to mess up your cakes.”

  With a pinch of her lips, she took the contraption from him, but there was a twinkle in her eye when she handed it back after evenly coating the first cake. He had to admit that the result was pretty.

  Carefully, he tried to match her effort. “Not quite as good as yours, I’m afraid,” he said, stepping back. He cast a wary eye on the uneven coating of sugar that fell in larger clumps at the middle and all but faded out near the edges.

  “Oh, it will do,” Maggie replied, wiping her hands on her apron. “Mind passing me that bowl over there?” She motioned to a large ceramic mixing bowl on the center island. “I have to get these cookies in the oven or they won’t be ready in time.”