by Olivia Miles
And it was all thanks to Nate.
It saddened her, and she wondered again what he might be doing today, how he’d be spending his Christmas, if he was back to living in the past.
Guess she’d never know.
Her phone rang. “That’s probably Mom saying Sharon needs a few minutes,” Kara said, reaching into her bag. Only it wasn’t her mother’s number. Or her aunt Sharon’s. It was Mrs. Griffin’s.
“Hello?” she answered warily. No doubt the woman was calling to congratulate her, and Kara felt a little awkward, knowing the effort the innkeeper had put into winning the contest. But as she listened to Mrs. Griffin’s request, she stopped walking.
“A cookie delivery?” she repeated. Beside her, Molly’s expression was incredulous. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Griffin, but I’m closed for Christmas Day. I’d gladly make you some for tomorrow.”
“But my guests!” the woman cried. “They need a dessert, and oh, my oven has gone out, today of all days. They’ll have nothing to go with their afternoon cocoa after they come back from skating!”
Kara closed her eyes. There weren’t many guests at the inn for the holiday, and a dozen cookies wouldn’t take very long. She could probably have them baked, decorated, and delivered in about an hour, especially without any other pressing orders demanding her attention. And the poor woman had lost the contest. It seemed like the least she could do for her.
Still, the thought of seeing Nate made her tense. But then, Nate didn’t seem to want to see her. He’d probably steer clear.
“All right,” she sighed, swatting away Molly’s indignant cry. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.”
She disconnected the call and dropped her phone into her bag. “It’s Christmas,” she told Molly.
But a slow smile had appeared on her sister’s face. “So I’ve noticed.”
An hour later, Kara was trudging across the town square, a box of snowflake cookies in her hands. She hadn’t minded making them—if anything, she’d felt a bit nostalgic. Christmas would be over as of midnight tonight, and with it, her holiday offerings. She’d done it. Made it through the season and the rush of those first few months with a new business. She’d survived with little sleep but next to no major setbacks, at least not professionally speaking.
She stopped walking and eyed the inn. The entire town seemed to have fallen hush, and despite the lack of activity outside, she could only imagine what was going on behind the set of double doors, beyond the windows where lights shone brightly and almost, she dare say, invitingly.
For all she knew, Nate had already left town. He’d seemed eager enough to be on his way. He hadn’t even bothered to congratulate her on winning. Much less stopped by for any other reason.
Kara squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she crossed the street and approached the inn. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d opened her heart—for the first time ever, really—and it hadn’t been accepted. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe they did come from two different worlds. In her world, you didn’t judge someone for where they came from or what they’d been through. You saw them for what they were now. And Nate had made it clear that money, and the bottom line, trumped everything.
The door was unlocked, of course, and Kara hesitantly pushed it open, her eyes darting this way and that until she blew out a breath, happy to see no sign of Nate or that handsome grin that made her a little weak in the knees and, now, a little heavy in the heart. It was Christmas, and she wanted to focus on the good news the morning had brought, the hope she had for the future, not the disappointment of the past.
“Mrs. Griffin?” she called out in a stage whisper, lest she attract the attention of the man she was hoping to avoid.
She waited, listening for a sound of life, but the inn was quiet, so quiet she could make out the crackling of the embers falling off the logs burning in the fireplace. She waited a little longer, then checked her watch. Still nothing. She hated to just leave the cookies on the dining room buffet and leave—it was Christmas and that felt a bit rude. But she’d already delayed getting to her mother’s house by an hour to make the cookies, and she didn’t want to keep them waiting much longer.
Sighing, she finally gave up and decided to leave them on the buffet stand, where they wouldn’t go unnoticed. She walked into the dining room, still hoping to catch the innkeeper herself, when she felt her breath catch.
There, standing at the dining room window, was Nate.
“Oh.” She skirted her eyes to the door and then back to him. “Hello.”
“Hi.” His smile was hesitant and almost warm. Damn him. She didn’t have time for his soft side. Didn’t want to see it either. Tomorrow he’d be gone. Back to work. Back to his fancy job, his fancy apartment, and all the fancy things that all his money could buy him.
While she… She supposed she’d be doing what she loved, surrounded by those that mattered.
She wondered for the first time if Nate felt proud of himself. He should, she thought. But only partly.
Kara crossed the room and set the box of cookies on the buffet table. “Your aunt asked me to bring these over,” she said as she turned to leave. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and wish her a merry Christmas, but I’m afraid I’m already late as it is.”
“Can it wait? Just a little while longer?” Nate added quickly.
Kara stopped walking toward the doorway and looked up at him. His eyes were clear and hopeful, but his jaw was tight. Tense. “I’m sorry, but I really should be going,” she said, willing herself to be strong.
No good would come from lingering. There was nothing between them. Maybe there never had been.
“You won the contest,” Nate said abruptly. “I saw it in the paper this morning. I’m really happy for you,” he said, his voice a little scratchy.
Kara softened. But only a bit. “Thanks,” she said.
“Your father is smiling down on you,” Nate said, locking her eyes as he gave her a smile.
Kara swallowed the emotion that was building in her chest. Right. Time to leave.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten our bet,” Nate said as Kara turned to go once more. “You won, fair and square.” He held up a hand, motioning to the table near the window, where Kara noticed the flickering votive candles, the tea tray, the two wingback chairs cozily pulled together for a view of the snow-covered town square, glowing with fairy lights.
“What is this?” she asked warily.
“You won the contest,” Nate said. “If memory serves me correctly, I owe you dinner. But seeing as it’s Christmas, I thought this might be a little more festive.”
Suddenly everything became clear. “Your aunt set this up, didn’t she? That’s why she called about the cookies.” She tsked under her breath. She should have known.
“Actually, I asked my aunt to call you.” His jaw tensed as his eyes bored steadily through hers, and Kara felt herself waver. But only for a second.
“This was all your idea? So, the cookies…?”
“I’m sorry to make you do the extra work,” he said. “It was that or knock on your door. I wasn’t so sure you would answer. And at the very least, I owe you a meal. I’m a man of my word.”
“Are you?” She wasn’t so sure anymore, but seeing the table, the candles, the effort he’d put into it, she dared to believe he was.
Except he’d had several other choice words the other day, too. Did he still mean everything he’d said?
“Nate.” She shook her head. “It’s too late. The things you said. I think you were right. We really are from two different worlds. And besides, you’re leaving tomorrow anyway.”
“And what if I said I wasn’t?” he asked.
Kara felt her jaw slip. When her mind had stopped spinning, she leveled him with a long look and asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if I stayed?”
“After everything you said the other day?” She shook her head. “Why are you changing your mind now? Nothing has happened.”
He was telling her everything she wanted to hear, but she wasn’t so sure it was enough. “You meant what you said. I know you did. About our differences and about your priorities. You belong in Boston.”
“I belong here,” he said so firmly that her breath caught. His stare was deep and long, and even though she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. “You opened my eyes, made me see that it doesn’t matter where I came from. Until you, I never thought a girl like you would really do anything other than misjudge me.”
“A girl like me.” She snorted. “Seems to me that you’re the one judging people.”
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe so. And for that I’m sorry. You’re… special, Kara. For a lot of reasons. And I couldn’t let you go without a fight. Without you, I don’t see much reason to stay.”
Kara eyed him, trying to keep her eyes from shifting to the beautiful table set up behind him. “Oh, I’m sure your aunt would be happy to keep you here.”
“She has what she needs now,” he said quietly.
“And you? Do you have what you need?”
He jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I have my answer, I suppose. But not the one I had hoped for.” His eyes had gone flat, and Kara’s pulse flickered for a moment. He was giving up, taking her word for what it was, but she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to stop fighting, either. If she was ready to end it here and now, in this room, next to the table he’d set up just for her. On Christmas.
She sighed, feeling her shoulders relax a bit. “You broke my trust, Nate,” Kara said. And my heart, she said to herself. “I wasn’t trying to upset you the other day—”
He held up a hand, cutting her off. “I know. It’s my problem, my issue to resolve, and I’ve been going about it all the wrong way. But seeing you, how you were with those kids, how you gave not just money, but time and, well, love. I haven’t forgotten it, Kara.”
Kara swallowed the lump that had wedged in her throat, willing the tears that were prickling the backs of her eyes not to spill. He was a good man. She knew it before, and she knew it still. But was it enough?
“I just did what I could. As you said, it wouldn’t change their circumstances.”
“No, but it changed their day. And a few magical days like that can mean an awful lot to a kid.” He took a step forward, and her breath stilled. A part of her wanted to move back, to run from the room, and the other part of her wanted to run right into his arms.
She didn’t move. She needed to think.
Or maybe she just needed to follow her heart and, for the first time in her life, let herself fall. And believe.
“I want to give those kids another magical day,” Nate said. “I want to give those kids the hope to see that their life can be so much more than it is right now. And I want those kids to know that it doesn’t matter where they live or what they wear. It matters who they are.”
“What are you saying?” Kara asked, searching his face.
“I’m leaving my job,” Nate replied. “I have more than enough socked away, and who knows, maybe I’ll still do a little consulting on the side. I like helping struggling companies succeed.” He grinned, and despite herself, she did, too. “But for now, I want to do something else. I was thinking of starting a new youth program at the center.”
“Oh, Nate.” Kara blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
“But I can’t imagine doing any of those things without you. You’re the reason, Kara. You opened my eyes. You made me rethink my future.”
Kara closed her eyes as Nate reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You made me rethink my future, too.”
“What do you say we start with today, then?” Nate’s hand dropped from her cheek to grip her hand. His fingers were warm and smooth and solid, and she clasped his hand tightly, never wanting to let it go again.
“It is Christmas, after all,” she said, smiling through her tears. “I can’t think of a better day to start.”
“Me neither,” Nate said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in for a long, slow kiss. No mistletoe needed.
EPILOGUE
Okay, I have to say, your gingerbread house was amazing, but this…” Nate whistled under his breath as he scanned the living room of Kathleen Madison’s house, where it seemed half the town had gathered to see Anna and Mark tie the knot.
“I know,” Kara said, laughing. Either Kathleen had added more details since Anna made her big announcement or Kara had managed to overlook some of the beauty in her last visit, but now she couldn’t stop staring at the heavy ivory velvet curtains that draped the floor-to-ceiling windows or the way the oversized silver candle holders on the mantel perfectly reflected the light. “I suppose we all came out on top this Christmas,” she said, reaching over to take his hand.
A little tingle of excitement ripped through her stomach. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, or maybe she had finally discovered what all the hype was about, but she couldn’t help it: Being here, in this beautiful house, with the dozens of flowers filling the air with soft fragrance and the gentle sounds of piano wafting over the crowd, she could almost dare to imagine her own wedding day. But for now, she was looking forward to dancing with Nate later during the reception and then sharing a nice quiet evening together.
“Isn’t this exquisite?” Molly said, coming to take the chair next to Kara. “I just told Kathleen the good news. The magazine wants to run a piece on the wedding. So few couples are getting married in their childhood homes these days, and this… Well, this is very inspiring.”
“It is,” Kara agreed, thinking that she would opt for a small, sentimental event over a big country club extravaganza any day. But then, she and Molly had always been different when it came to those things.
She eyed her sister, who seemed swept up in the details of the planning, the candlelight and flowers that lined the ivory carpet rolled out for the aisle. Maybe she and her sister weren’t so different anymore, after all.
Molly elbowed her sharply, but her eyes never left the front of the room. Kara had to smile to herself. Her sister may have changed a bit, but some things stayed the same. The girl loved a good wedding. And so, Kara thought, did she.
“It must be starting soon. Here comes Mark.”
Sure enough, Mark was striding to the front of the room, looking nervous and excited in his black tux, her brother Luke right beside him. Brett, she knew, would be walking their mother, Sharon, up the aisle. Since Mr. Madison was no longer with them, Henry had stepped in to escort Kathleen, who had done a fine job of hiding her nerves when Kara checked in on the girls before taking her seat, but she could see the tears in the woman’s blue eyes, just waiting to spill.
The last of the Madison girls was getting married today, and next it would be Ivy and Brett’s turn. And then… Kara eyed her sister. A few weeks ago, she might have said next it would be Molly’s turn, but now, now she almost dared to think it could be her next.
Nate looked down and smiled at her as the music swelled and the procession began, and he squeezed her hand tightly, giving no sign of letting go. Kara watched with a knot in her throat as her aunt and cousin walked down the aisle, followed by Kathleen and Henry, and then Grace and Jane, both looking beautiful in soft gold-colored dresses, followed by sweet little Sophie, who was thrilled to be a flower girl. Again.
And then Anna. Her friend. Her mentor. The woman who had taught her how to bake, motivated her to follow her passion, and today, walking down the aisle of her childhood home to the only man she had ever loved, who inspired her to follow her heart.
“All my girls are married,” Kathleen said, fanning her eyes as she
stood near the cake. Though Kara had offered to make one for the couple, Anna had insisted on doing it herself. Kara had to laugh: Her friend was a hard worker; that much couldn’t be denied.
“And now the next chapter begins,” Rosemary said, clasping her hands together in excitement.
It was true. Grace and Luke were expecting a baby, and that meant that Rosemary and Kathleen would soon have a grandbaby to spoil terribly. Kara looked over at Jane, who shook her head to the waiter passing Champagne, and raised an eyebrow. Who knew, maybe there was more in store for the upcoming year than any of them knew just yet.
But looking around the room, at Anna in her simple but elegant ivory satin strapless A-line dress, and Mark, looking so proud, and Ivy and Brett huddled on one of the sofas, whispering into each other’s ears, she couldn’t help but think that all of their futures looked very bright indeed.
But none, perhaps, more than her own.
Across the room, Nate was making his way back to her, two Champagne flutes in hand. When he caught her eye, he winked. A subtle but intimate gesture that reminded her that even in this room of people, they were somehow connected, and that to him, she was set apart and special.
“Did your parents make it in safely?” she asked, thinking of the roads. It had snowed last night. Not much, but enough to give Anna’s winter wedding a truly magical feeling.
“They did,” Nate confirmed. “My mom was overwhelmed by the decorations. I think she’s going to be very happy here.”
“And your dad?” Kara almost hesitated to ask, but she had hope for the man, and she knew Nate did, too.
“He won’t say it, but he’s happy with the change. In typical form, he went right to work, chopping wood for the fire, inspecting the house for potential repairs. It’s important to him that he feels needed. It was Maggie who figured that out. I think it’s the only way she got him up here at all.”
