Not Christmas Without You

by Jane Porter

  “I have a flight out of Bozeman tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” Her heart sank. “I see. When do you think you’ll return?”

  “I’m hoping to be back for Christmas.”

  That was only a couple weeks away. “Stay for a few days when you come back. We can see a movie or go skating at Miracle Lake.”

  “Perfect.” He pulled out his phone. “Give me your number.”

  “My number?”

  “Friends keep in touch through calls and texts.”

  She blushed. “Right.” She rattled off her number and watched him save it. “I better get back to work.” Charity returned his coat to him and then leaned over to give a quick, awkward hug. “Stay in touch.”

  “You, too.”

  “I don’t have your number.”

  “I’ve already texted it to you.”

  *

  Amanda’s hair salon, The Wright Salon, was in an older house that had been painted pink and it looked festive with all its boughs of greenery.

  A sole stylist was still working downstairs at her station in what had once been the living room. Amanda waved Charity to come to what had been the dining room and was now a pretty sitting room for clients in between appointments.

  Amanda had the bottle of wine open and two glasses on the table. “Pizza is coming,” she said, dropping into a white slipcovered armchair. “Ah, this feels good to sit. It was busy today.”

  Charity curled into the corner of the couch, tucking her legs under her. “It was a busy day,” she agreed. “Not sure if you heard…”

  “I heard.” Grinning, Amanda leaned forward to fill their two glasses. “Quinn Douglas, my sweet Charity. Now there’s a catch. Marietta’s most eligible bachelor. Earns millions every year—”

  “I could care less about the money.”

  “Comes from a great family. We all adore McKenna.”

  “I’m not dating him, Amanda. He and I have agreed to be friends.”

  “That’s a good first step.”

  “I’m serious. It’s not romantic.”

  “But he’s perfect for you.”

  “He’s not perfect for me. He’s perfect for a perfect woman. I’m not her.”

  “So, is that what this is about? Your poor self-esteem?”

  “I’m tired, Mandy. I’m not in the mood to be analyzed.”

  “You’re the one keeping you from happy-ever-after—” Amanda broke off at the sound of the doorbell. “Hold that thought. We’re not done here.”

  Charity shifted miserably on the couch while Amanda retrieved the pizza, not wanting to discuss Quinn anymore with her sister, or anyone.

  Amanda came sailing back into the sitting room and placed the pizza and plates and napkins on the coffee table in front of them. “No one is perfect,” she said, opening the box and placing two slices of pizza on each of their plates. “Quinn’s not perfect. I never implied he was. I said he was perfect for you.”

  “Mandy, I know how this will play out, and I can’t handle more disappointment. Not right now.”

  “Loser Greg hurt you that much?”

  Charity started to lift a pizza slice and set it back down. “Or maybe Loser Charity hurt me this much, because I’ve done an excellent job of making bad decisions. And, yes, I do feel banged up. I feel stupid and bruised. It seems I’m lousy at reading people… specifically guys… and I don’t want to keep making mistakes.”

  “Well, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I’d say your only real problem is a lack of confidence, which is why you’ve been dating the wrong guys for the past couple of years.”

  “I used to be better at this,” Charity said quietly. “Once upon a time there was Joe.”

  “And you were crazy about him.”

  “I was.”

  “But you hated that his ranch was so remote.”

  “It was. You’ve been there. It’s way up on the mountain—and windy and bitterly cold.”

  Amanda simply smiled as she bit into her pizza.

  Charity saw her sister’s smile. “What?”

  Amanda just chewed and shrugged her shoulders.

  “You never liked him,” Charity said irritably.

  Amanda blotted her mouth on a paper napkin and then wiped her fingers. “I didn’t dislike him, but I thought it was wrong of him to not meet you part way. His ranch is remote, but it wasn’t just his ranch that scared you. He lived with his grandfather and mother and four brothers and you would have become a cook and housekeeper to all of them. It wasn’t going to be a paradise for you. You were going to be isolated and lonely and he didn’t get it. He didn’t want to see how life would change for you. It was all about him, and what he needed, and, let’s face it, Joe wasn’t the kind of guy who’d let you drive on your own to town every day, especially in winter. He’s so old-fashioned and protective, he’d say, ‘Wait babe, I’ll drive you on Saturday when I’m done working.’” Amanda’s eyebrows rose. “That’s what terrified you. Being trapped out there and not having any friends close by.”

  Charity chewed her bite slowly, her heart heavy, because Amanda was right. Charity needed people, and town, and activity. Joe had grown up on his family property, and the only life he knew was the life of a cowboy and rancher, and he didn’t understand her fear, or her need to remain close to her sister. Their big fight and breakup was about Mandy, too. He’d said she was too dependent on her sister, and that dependence wasn’t good for her. His words had wounded, and infuriated her. How dare he criticize her for being close with her sister, when he still lived and worked with his brothers? How dare he say she was too dependent when he wasn’t having to give up anything? She was the one who’d lose her world, not him.

  And so they fought, hard, with the same passion they’d once loved each other, and neither of them would back down. Neither would apologize nor compromise. One day became a week, and then a week became a month, and months turned into a year.

  A year after they broke up, she heard he was engaged to another girl, and Charity was privately devastated. She told no one that she was upset, not even her sister, but it had hurt her terribly that he could just move on so easily without her.

  She forced herself to move on and began dating here and there. The dates were all vaguely depressing. None of the men were Joe. None had his quiet intensity, or his rugged masculinity, or his beautiful face and shaggy dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes—

  Dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, beautiful face.

  Charity dropped her pizza slice and reached for a napkin. She wiped her fingers and then balled it in her hand. “They kind of look alike,” she said in a low, strangled voice.

  “The Wyatt brothers? Of course—”

  “No. Quinn and Joe. They both have the same look… the same sexy rugged I-can-do-anything look.”

  “Oh, you mean hot alpha look.” Amanda’s eyebrows arched. “You’ve always like alphas far more than I did.”

  “Tyler is not a beta hero.”

  “No. But he’s not the Tarzan, beat-on-your-chest kind of guy that appeals to you.”

  “That’s true. I do like the muscles and wickedly handsome.”

  “So to recap, you don’t like Quinn because he resembles Joe, because they look nothing alike. Joe’s hair was brown and his eyes were green, and Quinn has dark blond hair—”

  “I know what Quinn looks like,” Charity interrupted testily.

  “You like Quinn because he makes you feel safe, and protected, like Joe did.”

  Charity mulled this over for a moment. “Quinn does make me feel good,” she admitted.

  “I think you should give Quinn a chance when he returns for Christmas.”

  “He comes back almost every year.” Amanda reached for the bottle of wine and topped off each of their glasses. “And when he’s back, give him a chance. It’s silly to impose these rules—”

  “I’m not imposing rules.”

  “Forcing him into the friend zone is all about control and rules.”

&nb
sp; “Maybe I don’t want this with Quinn to blow up. He is a seriously nice guy.”

  “And hot, and sexy, and successful, and financially stable.”

  “I don’t care about money, so please stop talking about his portfolio.”

  Amanda laughed, and then her smile faded. “He’s not too good for you. If anything, he’s not good enough for you, Charity. You are one of the best human beings I know.”

  For a long moment, there was just silence, and the silence made Charity incredibly uncomfortable. She gulped her wine and deliberately changed the topic. “So tell me about the Stroll. How was it this year? Did I miss anything?”

  *

  An hour and a half later, Charity quietly let herself into her parents’ house on Chance Avenue. The house was small and square and painted a faded blue. Charity and Mandy had tried to repaint it but their mom and dad apparently like the shade and didn’t want them to spend even twenty dollars on a couple cans of paint to freshen up the trim, so the house remained as it had been for years—blue and unbearably forlorn.

  Charity discovered her mom was still up watching TV, so she gave her a hug and said good night and was about to slip to her room when her mother asked about Amanda, and how she and Tyler were doing.

  “Good,” Charity answered vaguely, feeling guilty they hadn’t discussed Amanda and Tyler’s relationship very much, but Amanda seemed happy—as well as determined to get Charity set up with Quinn. “Mandy seems happy. Work has been busy and her day spa is getting great reviews. She has picked up new business with her new masseuse.”

  “Any mention of babies?”

  Charity rolled her eyes. “No, Mom. But it hasn’t even been six months since they married. Give them time. I’d think they’d want a couple years just to enjoy being together before kids come along.”

  “I had Jenny right away.”

  “You married Dad because Jenny was on the way, and you and Dad were stressed out of your minds. No one else wants that life.”

  “We were happy,” her mom answered defensively. She must have noticed the arch in Charity’s brows. “We did the best we could.”

  “I know that. We all know that. But if Mandy and Tyler want to wait five years, or ten years, before having children, then they should. The point of falling in love isn’t to immediately reproduce. It’s to make a life with your best friend—” Charity broke off, aware of what she’d just said.

  A life with your best friend.

  Your friend.

  Immediately, her thoughts went to Quinn and then she shied away.

  “What were you saying?” her mother asked, smothering a yawn. “You didn’t finish your thought.”

  “Nothing important,” Charity answered. “I’m heading to bed. I have an early morning meeting so I’ll be up and gone early.”

  “For work?”

  “No. It’s the Christmas tree auction.”

  “Again?”

  “We meet weekly, Mom, and it’s coming up in just ten days.”

  “Is Mandy helping this year?”

  “She’s not on the committee but Sadie convinced her to donate a tree.”

  “Let me guess, it’s pink?”

  “You know your baby girl.” Charity returned to her mother to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good night, and don’t stay up half the night watching TV. Even you, Mom, need sleep.”

  Chapter Five

  After dinner at Rocco’s, Quinn returned to his house in Paradise Valley. When he’d left for dinner, the dozens of west-facing windows reflected the setting sun, the glass glazed with pink and red light. Now it was dark, clouds obscuring the moon, blanketing the valley in darkness.

  Fortunately, he’d left on a light in the kitchen and the house glowed yellow as he parked in the driveway. He sat for a moment, engine idling, looking at the front exterior with the big beam trusses, long covered porch, and river rock chimneys. It was handsome and expensive, but far from festive. A different owner would have put lights up by now, and added greenery to the mantel, candles on tables, and a towering Christmas tree in the great room. A different owner would know how to make the house homey.

  A family would also make this house homey. Baking in the kitchen. High chairs at the island. Kids with toys and noise and small plush blankets forgotten on the stairs.

  Quinn thought of Charity, and pictured her here, blonde hair in a ponytail as she stirred something at the stove, before crossing to the kitchen’s gas fire and flicking the switch, making the huge hearth glow.

  She was what this house needed. She was what he needed. She was sweet and warm, and incredibly down-to-earth. She was also heartbreakingly pretty but by far the best thing about her was her smile. When she smiled, her eyes shone, her lips curved, her face softened. It would be so easy to fall in love with her. He was already smitten. More than smitten. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she left Little Teton, and seeing her today just confirmed his feelings. She was his. He just needed time to convince her that she belonged with him, and until then, he needed to keep other men away.

  Quinn stepped from his truck and was in the middle of unlocking the front door when his phone rang. For a split second he wondered—hoped, actually—it might be Charity.

  Instead it was Alice, and as he closed the front door, his spark of enthusiasm faded.

  “Hi, Alice. What’s up?”

  “I haven’t heard from you since you arrived in Wyoming. Just wondered how the week went.”

  Quinn peeled off his coat and dropped his keys on the kitchen island. “It was good. I was impressed by Little Teton.”

  “You’re going to invest.”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “You know Dad wants it.”

  Of course Leo did. Anytime Leo smelled blood, he’d rush in for the kill. “Peter hasn’t decided to sell it,” Quinn answered carelessly, deciding then and there to cut Peter a check so he didn’t have to deal with Sterling Enterprises salivating at Peter’s doorstep.

  “We’ll see. You know my dad, and he usually gets what he wants.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  She paused. “He’s invited you to join us for Christmas. It’ll be another white Christmas at the Jackson Hole house. Please come. It won’t be Christmas without you.”

  “I’m going to be spending Christmas this year in Marietta with family.”

  “You say that every year.”

  “I’ve just confirmed my plans with my sister. I’m not going to disappoint McKenna.”

  “Marietta isn’t half as fun as Jackson Hole.”

  “Marietta is really charming, especially in December. Ice skating, gingerbread competition, caroling on Main Street.”

  “You make it sound like a Hallmark movie,” she said, and from her tone it wasn’t a compliment. “Nothing is that cute.”

  “It’s pretty cute right now and it’s not even Christmas.”

  “You’re in Montana?”

  “Arrived today, but I’m on a flight out of Bozeman tomorrow.”

  “Want me to pick you up at the airport?”

  “Thank you for offering,” he said politely, “but my car’s there.”

  “Oh.”

  He held his breath, certain her next question would be a suggestion that they meet for dinner, or grab drinks at Canon. “Listen, Alice, I hope you’ve begun dating again. You should be. You’re a beautiful woman—”

  “I miss you, Quinn.”

  “Sweetheart, we’re not going to get back together.”

  “We were good together!”

  “I don’t think we were, not really. We stayed together because it was just easier than going through a breakup and having to start fresh.”

  “That’s not true. I love you, and I know you loved me.”

  “I will always care for you, but we weren’t a good fit. We weren’t even that compatible. I like your dad, and he was always kind to me, but I couldn’t ever work for him, and Seattle isn’t my home. Montana is. This is where I want to r
aise my kids. This is who I am.”

  “I know I got upset that time about Montana, but I’ve thought a lot about it and there is no reason we couldn’t go back and forth. The kids would of course go to school in Seattle, but we could summer in Montana, even though summer is the nicest time of year here and I love our house on Vashon—”

  “Alice, any kids I have, will go to school here.”

  “Baby, you went to elementary school in a one-room schoolhouse.”

  “I did. And it was fantastic.”

  “That’s not the education kids need today to get into top colleges. It’s competitive out there. They need the best schools, and I appreciate you were a great athlete, so that helped you, but I don’t want my kids spending valuable learning time being taught how to hunt and fish and whatever else they taught you.”

  “Reading, writing, math, history, science.”

  “History meaning, Montana history.”

  Quinn rubbed his temple, trying to rub away the ache. It seemed like every other call with her ended like this. She wouldn’t let him go and yet she didn’t want what he wanted. She wanted him, without wanting the true him. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said quietly. “I can’t do this anymore. You need to let go and move forward. I am.”

  Her voice was muffled when she spoke again. “You’re dating other people?”

  He paused before answering, “There is someone.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “I like her, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Alice, we’re not going to discuss it.”

  “Is she in Montana?”

  “Take care of yourself. Try to be happy. Goodbye.” And then he hung up and turned his phone off to keep from having to deal with frantic calls from Alice because he knew how it’d go. She’d call back teary and desperate, and then she’d become angry and bitter, and he hated conflict, and hated the fights. Alice had perfected arguing.

  His good mood gone, Quinn turned the TV on in the great room to Sports Channel but he was too keyed up to sit. Instead, he returned to the kitchen and filled a glass with water and then wandered around downstairs as the broadcasters talked about highlights from tonight’s NBA games.