"You're a terrible liar." She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes. "But I appreciate the sentiment." She took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the box beside her.
Ryan had been extraordinarily careful in his selection. He expected her to pop the lid off and breathe a sigh of relief at the boxes of red and green Christmas balls within. There shouldn't have been anything personal or sentimental in that box, nothing that you wouldn't find in any department, discount, or grocery store anywhere in the country during the holidays. But there was.
Sitting right on top of the boxes and tubes of ball ornaments was a hand-stitched, hand-embellished ski hat ornament with his name embroidered on it—by Tara's own hand.
Ryan cursed silently to himself. That hadn't been there when he'd put the boxes away. He'd swear to it. Now what would Tara think?
She pulled the little white and blue hat out of the box by its string and held it in front of her, watching it gently swing. "I haven't seen this in years."
"Nor have I. I swear, Tara. I have no idea how that got there."
Tara had given it to him for Christmas one year when she was in high school. She'd made a matching one for Chad. After Tara had called off their engagement and given back his ring, Ryan had returned the ornament, leaving it at the lodge for her. He'd been hurt and acting like an ass. He'd never known if she'd actually gotten it back or what had happened to it. Looked like the mystery was solved.
She turned to look at him. "Don't you?" There was no accusation in her tone.
She arched a brow. "I have a pretty good idea, like a grandmotherly Mrs. Claus figure who's writing a cookbook."
She returned her focus to the ornament in her fingers. "Look at this! I was really awful at embroidery." She shook her head, but she was smiling slightly. "Chad's was worse, poor guy. But they were made with love." She laid the ornament flat in her hand.
Ryan swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. She was exactly right. There had been so much love. So much history together. He'd loved her fiercely and she'd loved him back with equal intensity. There had to be a few embers still smoldering within her, however weakly. Tragedy or no, misunderstanding or not, how could a love like that just die?
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She shook her head.
He put his arm around her, took the ornament from her, and replaced the decoration in the box. "Let me put this away and get another box to look at."
Tara smiled at him and laughed softly. "Are you kidding? They're all booby-trapped. You know that, right?"
"Then screw it!" He stood and held his hand out to her. "Let's go to town and buy new Christmas balls. We'll raid the dollar store and Walmart and buy them out if we have to. And while we're at it, we'll stop by the Alpine Shop and see about getting you set up to hit the slopes tomorrow. I'll get your board from Harry's shop."
Town bustled with shoppers, skiers, snowboarders, snowmobilers, and tourists darting around the sidewalks and streets. And Santa Ski fliers were pasted absolutely everywhere. The window of the Alpine Shop was practically wallpapered with them.
Yes, Tara was determined to face her fears and get back up on the slopes as a tribute to her brother. But the sight of hundreds of Christmas revelers skiing and boarding recklessly down the mountain high on wassail and wine and Christmas spirits was an event she still intended to avoid. The last thing she wanted to ever see again was another crash. She still didn't know how Ryan faced the Basin on ski patrol, knowing he could be called to assist in an accident like Chad's at any time.
Ryan held the door to the Alpine Shop open for her as he stomped the snow off his boots and held her board in his other arm. A Trans-Siberian Orchestra arrangement of Christmas carols blasted out of the shop at the volume of a rock concert.
Inside was an explosion of gear, garland, animated skiing Santa figures, and garish lights. And, yes, costumes for the Santa Ski—helmets with reindeer horns, ski poles covered with flashing LED Christmas lights, ho-ho-ho noisemakers, and holiday decals for helmets, boards, skis, you name it. The innocuously named Alpine Shop was a holiday shop of horrors in Tara's opinion. Long gone was the familiar, traditional Alpine Shop of her youth.
Digger Jameson, snowboarder and ski bum extraordinaire, popped up from where he'd been hiding behind the counter. Or, more likely, bending over to pick something up off the floor.
"Ryan, dude! Good to see you, man." Digger clasped Ryan's whole arm as the two shook hands.
It took Digger a long stare, a look of puzzlement, and Ryan's prompting—"You remember Tara"—before real recognition hit Digger. "Tara Clark! It's still Tara Clark, right?" Digger's gaze bounced between her and Ryan as he spoke over the music, looking like something didn't quite jibe.
She nodded confirmation. "Digger. Good to see you." She almost had to yell.
Ryan motioned for Digger to turn the music down.
Which Digger did, a notch, before grabbing Tara in a whole-arm handshake. "Christmas miracles will happen! I never thought I'd see you in a board shop again. Not here, anyways. A dedicated boarder like you, I never believed that nasty gossip that you gave it up. Once the pow is in your veins, it don't leave, I said. This is rad!"
He grinned and pointed an accusing finger at Tara. "I have you pegged. 'Fess up. You've been shreddin' the gnar on us elsewhere."
He arched a brow as if in question. "Thrown us over for Whistler in BC or I miss my guess. Just like Seattleites to head there and ignore the rest of us. Or maybe Crystal." His grin spread as he nodded, believing his own theories without giving Tara an in to protest.
Ryan shot Digger a quick look, warning him to back off that particular line of supposition, and glanced at Tara. She smiled to reassure him she was hanging in. Digger had never had social grace. She didn't hold his enthusiasm against him.
Digger ignored Ryan's visual warning. "Whoa! Wait a minute—is that an antique board you're carrying, dude? You can't be plannin' to cruise the pow on the Basin on that?" Digger finally released Tara's arm to inspect the board.
"Not without bindings and boots," Ryan said.
Digger shook his head. "I got better gear than this, man. I can give you a good pre-Christmas discount, too."
"No!"
Both men swung around to look at Tara with surprised expressions on their faces.
"I want that board, and no other." It was crazy, but that was exactly the way she felt. That board that Ryan had bought for her years ago symbolized how life was supposed to have carried on—happily, joyously. And by golly, she was going to carry on, on that very board. "Contrary to your theories, Digger, I have not been up on the slopes since my brother's death ten years ago."
She pointed to the board. "That board is ten years old, just the technology I was last comfortable with. It'll do. I'm only going up a few times, anyway."
Digger shook his head. "I can rent you some gear, Tara."
She shook her finger at the board. "That board. Young looking, twentysomething polka dots and all, I still like it.
"Ten years ago it was state of the art and I had my eye on it and was dying to ride it." She winced when she realized her word choice. "I dreamed day and night of riding that thing. Ryan bought me that board and hung onto it all these years." She gave him a shaky smile. "It's about time my dream came true. I'm riding the gnar on that board.
"Now, I'm open to reasonably priced, current technology boots and bindings. Providing you can get the bindings on the board and have it ready for us to pick up tomorrow morning on our way to the Basin. What do you say, Digger? Will you sell me some gear?"
Digger grinned. "I got just the boots for those petite feet of yours, Tara. Just the ones.
"But first, I'm all out of Santa suits." He gestured to a shelf behind the counter. "But I got some cool, sexy elf costumes that would look good on you for the Santa Ski. And Santa hat snowboard helmet covers. You can still do the Santa Ski in style..."
Twenty minutes later, they were back on the str
eet again, sans elf costume, and Ryan was laughing and apologizing for Digger. "You have to deal with Digger on a certain level. He runs the best shop in town, and knows his stuff, but he can be a little insensitive. I'm sorry about that."
Tara waved her hand, dismissing Ryan's concern. "No problem. I had a good time." She peered into the Alpine Store bag she carried. "I still can't believe he sold me a Rudolph flashing red nose, though."
Ryan laughed. "He didn't exactly sell you the nose. He tossed it in for free."
"Yeah, only if I stepped up to the more expensive bindings."
"Those were the best deal, anyway," Ryan said. "And he threw in free installation, too."
"Yeah, dumb as he looks, the guy's a marketing genius." She shook her head. "I'm still not going to do the Santa Ski."
"No one says you have to." As they crossed the street to Ryan's car, he stepped out of the way of a snowmobiler barreling down the street. He beeped the car and opened the trunk for her. "But you might enjoy it."
Tara gave him a doubtful look and put her bag in.
"Where to now?" Ryan asked. "Walmart? The dollar store?"
Tara looked around her at the quaint, but decidedly upscale town filled with boutique shops that had sprung up since her girlhood. Dollar-store ornaments didn't exactly fit the new image. And besides, they were no fun to buy. "It's Saturday, right?"
Ryan gave her a puzzled look. "Yeah?"
She glanced at her watch. "And nearly noon. The ornament outlet store opens in ten. Laurel told me where it is. I say we head there and forget about boring Christmas balls. But we have to hurry or we'll miss all the good finds of the day. Word on the street is you have to be there when it opens to get the gems."
10
Ryan gave her a look of mock horror. "You mean Old European Ornaments? Oh, no, no, no. No red-blooded male goes into that store unless he's coerced. Forced. Arm-twisted. It's all glitter and decorating talk in there."
He shook his head, but there was a tease in his voice and just a hint of apprehension. "You should hear the horror stories from the guys at the plant. Women walk into that store and don't come out."
Tara arched a brow. "Ever? Sounds dangerous. You should get the sheriff to look into the disappearances."
Ryan grinned. "For hours. They don't come out for hours. And when they do, they're all sparkly and their wallets are empty."
"I see. Sounds like a mission for a man with guts and courage." Tara put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him, teasing him back. "You were willing to look at Christmas decorations at Walmart. What's the difference?"
"Walmart has plenty of other stuff to look at. Like guns and hunting equipment. Besides, we were just talking Christmas balls and maybe some dollar ornaments. But full-fledged, deep-into-Christmas-territory decorator shopping, I don't remember signing up for that."
Tara called his bluff, shrugged, and pulled out her cell phone. "If you're not secure enough about your manhood to come with me, I'll call Laurel and plead an ornament emergency. I'm sure she'd love to come."
Crazily, she wanted him to protest and stop her. Face the wilds and terrors of Old European Ornaments with her and ignore the consequences, even if it meant a good teasing from the guys at the plant. She had a flashback to the young her tormenting the young him, once she'd discovered her power over him. Teasing him, trying to get him to admit he wanted to spend time with her.
The memory was particularly warm and fuzzy and powerful and youthfully romantic at the same time. She'd been having such a surprisingly good time with Ryan. Mending fences. Putting the past to rest. Reliving ethereal emotions she hadn't felt in years. She didn't want it to end just yet.
She scanned her menu, stalling as she looked up Laurel's number, waiting for Ryan to react like the old, young Ryan. Her finger hovered above Laurel's number, just about ready to press it, when Ryan grabbed her arm.
"Let's not call it a day yet," he said, pulling the phone out of her hand. "I'll take you. I'd go anywhere with you, you know that.
"But be prepared to face the consequences. In this town, if a guy shows up at Old European with a woman, people are going to talk and make something out of it. No one will believe I'm just helping out an old friend."
His voice. The expression on his face. Her heart caught. He was the old Ryan, untainted by tragedy. And they were still in love. That was the way it felt to her, as if no time had passed at all.
Hope shone bright in his eyes.
She was filled with that ridiculous sort of joy that young women get when the right guy smiles at them. Crazy. This was Ryan.
She held her hand out for her phone. "Oh, that's ridiculous. Who will care or even see us together?" She gave him her most dazzling smile. "But I'm glad you're coming. I'll need some muscle to carry all the boxes and bags of goodies I plan on buying." She winked at him.
He slapped the phone back into her hand. "Trust me. This isn't the anonymous big city." Then he grinned. "Get in the car. We'll have to drive. I'm not carrying your packages, boxes, and bows for miles. As it is, we'll be lucky to find a spot in the lot."
Less than five minutes later they pulled into a hopping, busy parking lot that looked as if it belonged in the heart of urban holiday frenzy, not small-town America. The Old European factory was a long, flat, boring industrial building in a small industrial park. The retail store was located in a two-story office building next to the factory at the end of the lot. Both buildings looked unremarkable and unexciting. Until Tara looked more closely at the windows of the office building and got a glimpse of sparkling decorated trees through the windows and glass doors.
"Look at the line!" Tara pointed to a long line of women that snaked along the sidewalk and out into the lot.
Ryan scanned it and tucked his head down as he drove her to the end of it. "Yeah. It's a popular place."
"See anyone you know?" She grinned at him. "Looks like a lot of tourists to me. There aren't enough people in this town to generate at crowd like that."
Ryan shook his head. "Get out and get in line. I'll park the car and join you."
She studied him. "I see fear in your eyes. You're not planning on bailing on me?"
He grinned.
"Ry!"
"I'll see you inside. Promise."
"Good. And I hope you're not planning to come incognito. If you show up in a ski mask to hide your identity, you'll scare the marauding hordes of ornament collectors." She playfully tapped his cheek and jumped out of the car to get in line.
Tara watched Ryan as he drove out of the lot and down the road, cruising for a spot. She had a ridiculous smile on her face. Positively ridiculous.
This day had been like something out of a dream. A Ghost of Christmas Present kind of feeling. Cutting Christmas trees with Ryan. Going to the Alpine Shop to get new bindings and boots. And now going ornament shopping with him.
It was what life could have been like, and somehow—for this moment, anyway—was. And it felt remarkably good and somehow right, like things should be. Which was also ridiculously scary. What was she thinking?
She wasn't. That was the problem. She was simply feeling. Don't think; feel. Good advice or damning pabulum?
Then again, what did it matter if Tara let go and enjoyed herself during the holidays for once? She'd only be here until a few days after Christmas. Making peace with Ryan could only be a good thing in her path in life. Help her let go of that part of the guilt of Chad's death—being at odds with his old friend, who'd been so important to her brother. Accepting the past. Yes, Chad would have wanted her to stop blaming Ryan and herself and be happy.
Maybe coming back to Echo Bay for Christmas had been exactly what she'd needed, after all. Take care of Gram and Grandpa. Get them settled. Make up for not being Chad. Stop blaming Ryan and herself for living. Christmas miracles could happen. At least they seemed to be on the horizon.
"Hey, look, there's the boss. Hey, Ryan!" A middle-aged woman several places ahead of Tara in line waved as Ryan came int
o view from down the street, jogging toward the line.
Again, that pesky, ridiculous sense of almost schoolgirl-crush joy assaulted Tara and she smiled. He was not only keeping his promise—he was jogging back! Without a ski mask to hide his identity.
His breath came out in puffs. Watching Ryan jog, Tara thought he looked athletic and attractive. In a word, hot. And from the looks of the faces on several of the women in line, Tara wasn't the only one who thought so.
"Ryan!" A few more women in line called to him as he nodded and jogged past.
The middle-aged woman caught Ryan as he slowed just before he got to Tara. The woman was dressed in a knit red and white scarf and hat and hideous, garish old Christmas sweater, jeans, and boots with fur popping over the top. "Hey, salad dressing boss man, what are you doing here?"
Ryan got a sheepish look on his face, as if he'd been caught red-handed somewhere he shouldn't be. Suddenly Tara appreciated his reluctance, and the courage it took for him to come with her. He was never going to hear the end of this once his buds at the dressing plant found out about his little excursion here.
Tara was so used to living in the big city where people were anonymous that it seemed ridiculous to think of running into someone he knew. But Ryan had been right. This was a small town where everyone knew everyone else and their business. And evidently, every salad dressing plant worker, worker's girlfriend or wife, every woman in town who wasn't working, was at the ornament factory looking to stock up on holiday spirit in ornament form.
"Hey, Carla," Ryan said.
Carla suddenly preened for him and pointed to her sweater. "I need a man's opinion, boss—what do you think of the new sweater?"
Tara inwardly shuddered. Let's see you get out of this one gracefully, Ry.
Ryan paused, ran his eyes over the outfit with a professional eye, pursed his lips, and grinned. "That is the butt ugliest sweater I have ever seen."
Carla blushed and laughed, obviously tickled and flattered. "I told you, girls," she said to a pair of women next to her.
Christmas Duet: A Big City, Small Town Christmas Romance Bundle Page 25
