A Christmas Bride in Pinecraft

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Mark felt his cheeks flush. Now he felt like a jealous, insecure idiot. “Sorry. I do, um, really like her.”

  Peter’s smile transformed into a full-fledged grin. “Just so you know, I’m not headed toward the Quick Stop. I wanted to take a break before heading home.” He paused. “Actually, I’m putting off going home. I’ve got a ton of chores to do there and I’ve been applying for jobs all day.”

  Reminded again of the money Peter had been carrying in the Quick Stop, he wondered why he even was looking for work in the first place. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

  Peter eyed him suspiciously. “Why? You don’t have anything else to do?”

  “Not at the moment.” Mark didn’t dare say that Peter looked even worse than usual. His shirt had a tear in it, and his pants were stained. Even after working in the fields all day, Mark’s father would never have let him go out in such dirty clothes.

  But more worrisome than the state of Peter’s clothes was his strained expression, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. The poor guy looked like he shouldn’t be alone.

  “I don’t care if you walk with me, but I can’t promise to be much company.”

  “That’s okay.”

  They walked a couple of blocks in silence, averting their eyes from most of the people they passed. As they walked, the tension between them started to ease. They smiled at a little girl holding a puppy and shared a look when they saw a kid just a few years younger than them make a fool out of himself in front of a girl.

  “So, where all did you apply?” Mark asked after a while.

  “At a couple of landscaping companies.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not yet.” He frowned. “Actually, I haven’t had much luck anywhere. I tried a couple of stores two days ago. Most everyone said they weren’t hiring right now.”

  With Christmas around the corner, Mark could believe that. “You should try some of the hotels. High season isn’t far off. All the tourists will be coming in February and March.”

  “I don’t know if I want to work at a hotel.”

  “Sure? Some people tip really well. They make good money.”

  “Maybe. But working a hotel ain’t for me.”

  Remembering all the rumors and talk surrounding the Orange Blossom Inn, Mark said, “Hey, you could always try Beverly Overholt. She might need some help, especially with all that happened at her inn recently.”

  Peter froze. “What happened?”

  “The inn was robbed almost two weeks ago.” Thinking how no one had been able to talk about anything else after it happened, Mark looked at him curiously. “Didn’t you hear about it?”

  “Why would I know about that?”

  “Because it’s all anyone has been talking about. The people broke in through a window and took Beverly’s money. I heard they got a lot, too.”

  “You sure know a lot about it. How come you’re so concerned about an inn?”

  “We stayed there for a couple of weeks before we could move to our farm. Beverly is really nice.”

  Peter’s eyes looked troubled though he shrugged like he didn’t care. “I don’t know her.”

  “No reason you should since you have a house here, but I have to tell ya that even my daed was shocked. He couldn’t believe something like that had happened right here in Pinecraft.”

  “Crime happens everywhere. Pinecraft ain’t no different.”

  “I know,” Mark mused. “But I guess since I stayed at the Orange Blossom Inn, I’ve paid a lot of attention to the news about it. I really am surprised you hadn’t heard.”

  “I try to keep to myself.”

  Mark thought that was a pretty strange remark but he let it pass. After all, who was he to say what someone should be interested in?

  Sneaking a glance at him as they walked toward Pinecraft Park, Mark thought Peter looked even more perturbed. “You’ve lived here longer than I have. Who do you think it was? A tourist or someone local?”

  Peter stopped and pointed to a street behind him. “You know, I’ve gotta go. My bruder, Josiah, is probably home by now.”

  “Oh? Oh, well, all right.” Great. Even when he was trying to be nice he ended up saying the wrong things. “Next time we meet, I’ll try not to run over ya.”

  But Peter didn’t respond. Instead he turned and walked away.

  Without another word.

  Chapter 11

  December 12

  After consuming a couple bowls of cereal at the inn, sorting through some bills, and calling the insurance company, Eric had ventured out to do some errands. There were still quite a few finishing touches that needed to be done around the inn before the initial guests arrived.

  First he went to the hardware store and bought a new bucket of white paint to touch up the baseboards in some of the guest rooms. Then he drove to the other side of Sarasota and bought a pair of lamps for the gathering room. They were Tiffany inspired and were going to look terrific. Even better, he knew Beverly was going to love them.

  Now, he was sitting in the back corner of the Cozy Café, sipping a large cappuccino and staring at his smartphone resting on the table. Again.

  What he needed to do was pick it up, thumb through his contacts, and call his brother, Jack. After all, they hadn’t talked in almost a year. That was far too long to go without checking in. Because of that, he supposed he didn’t have to come up with a legitimate reason to give Jack a call. All he needed to do was pick up the phone and say hello.

  But he’d tried to come up with several excuses not to anyway. There was too much between them to pretend they had a close relationship.

  But maybe it was time to start creating one. Besides, it was almost Christmas. Didn’t most people call their siblings around Christmas? Even when Jack was in prison, Eric had made sure to call him on Christmas Day. Jack had been out of prison for years now. One of them needed to push things forward. It might as well be him.

  Before he generated another half dozen excuses or procrastinated a second more, Eric found Jack’s number, pressed Send, and held the cell phone to his ear. When the fourth ring got cut off by a terse, recorded message, Eric heaved a sigh of relief. Jack wasn’t available. Now he could leave a message and know that he had done the right thing and called.

  “Hey, Jack. It’s me. Don’t want anything. I just thought I’d call and—”

  The phone clicked, then clicked again. “Hello? Eric?” Jack said quickly, urgently, almost as if he was afraid he would miss Eric’s call.

  “Hey,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound quite as awkward as he felt. “I was leaving you a message.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Eric shifted in his chair. “Nothing. I was, um, just thinking about you.”

  “Yeah?” That one word made Jack sound far more relaxed. Almost like the brother he’d been before they’d grown up and so much had changed between them.

  Eric almost smiled. “Yeah. So, how are you?”

  He paused. “About the same as I was when we talked last. When was that? Last Christmas?”

  Eric was pretty sure that was right but he was too embarrassed to admit that truth. “I’m pretty sure we’ve talked since then. Like in June. Around your birthday?” At least, he’d thought about calling Jack then.

  “Oh. Yeah. I bet we did talk then.”

  Feeling even more awkward, Eric said, “So, what have you been up to?”

  “I got a job.”

  Jack sounded proud. Eric smiled. “Hey, that’s great. What are you doing?”

  “Construction. Turns out the recession is slowly making its way out of Cleveland. I’ve been working on some crews downtown.”

  “Hey, that’s great.” He winced. Did his voice sound as full of forced joviality as he thought?

  “It’s not great,” Jack corrected. “But it’s good.”

  “Good is good enough,” he said, using the familiar quote they’d shared at least once a week when they were small.

&nb
sp; Jack chuckled. “I haven’t heard that phrase in years.”

  “Me neither.” He smiled, and felt his shoulders relax. At last, they were conversing easily. Maybe, finally, things would change between them and they could recapture the bond they’d shared back before they’d both made choices they shouldn’t have. Maybe Eric wouldn’t feel so guilty about the way their lives had turned out.

  Relief mixed with that same old feeling of dread and churned in his stomach. After they’d been arrested, Jack had threatened to beat Eric if he got into trouble again. There hadn’t been anything sweet or kind in his brother’s threats; Eric had firmly believed Jack really would hurt him if he stopped going to school and started hanging out with the gangs again. Little by little, Eric had joined clubs, volunteered, and gotten a job at the grocery store in the next town over. Anything to keep away from the guys who wanted him to get into trouble with them.

  And Eric had flourished. His grades had gone up. And his clear head had enabled him to achieve high scores on all the college entrance exams, which had given him scholarships, which, in turn, had made his teachers and counselors take a renewed interest in him. His future suddenly held a multitude of bright possibilities. Far more than he’d ever dreamed.

  Jack, on the other hand, had stayed on his downward path. Alcohol, drugs, petty theft. Then grand theft. Then jail.

  Through it all, Jack had kept his distance from Eric, continuing to threaten bodily harm at times if Eric strayed from his goals while also telling him that he was their only hope.

  Realizing that probably a whole minute had passed without a single word, Eric rushed to fill the silence. “So, I’m in Sarasota.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Florida. West coast. Do you remember me ever talking about my old neighbor John?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Well, he died and left me an inn.”

  “No way. Why would he do a thing like that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he thought I needed something.” Thinking about it, Eric figured John had known from the moment they’d first met that Eric had needed an anchor in his life. For a few years, John had been that anchor. He’d asked about Eric’s life and his goals and even joined him for dinner once a week. John had been his best friend and, in many ways, a father figure. But it was only after his death that Eric realized how much more John had done for him. He’d taught him to trust, but he’d also taught him about church, the Bible, and faith.

  “You must have done something good for the guy if he gave you an inn,” Eric pointed out. “Or is the place a mess?”

  “It’s nice. Real nice. I don’t know if I ever did anything to deserve this place. I kind of doubt it.” Actually, John’s gift had felt a lot like God’s grace—a gift that was undeserved.

  Now, sitting by himself in the corner of a coffee shop in Sarasota, eclectic artwork hanging on brightly painted teal walls, an idea came to mind. He decided to propose it before he dismissed it. If he actually thought about the consequences, he knew he’d get off the phone as quickly as he could. “So, anyway, I was thinking that it’s pretty warm down here. It’s a pretty good place to spend Christmas . . .”

  “I bet.” Jack’s voice held no trace of envy or bitterness. “If anyone deserves it, you do. Get a tan for me, okay? And thanks for calling.”

  “No, wait. What I’m trying to say is, why don’t you come down and stay with me for a couple of days?”

  “Really?” he asked after a pause. “You want me there?”

  The lump that had been in Eric’s throat turned into a rock. “Yeah, I really do. We haven’t spent Christmas together in years.”

  “In probably twenty, at least.”

  Eric was now holding the phone with a death grip. “Twenty years is too long, don’t you think?”

  After another a lengthy pause, Jack cleared his throat. “Hey, I appreciate your invitation. That’s, um, real nice of you. But—”

  “There’s plenty of room,” Eric said. “Actually, I’m staying up in the attic, in one of three twin beds. You could share my room.”

  “Just like old times, huh?”

  “Yeah, though these beds are a lot more comfortable than our old bunk beds. They’re narrow, but comfortable.”

  “I’d be all right. I’ve slept on worse.”

  Eric swallowed. Yes, he supposed Jack had. Clearing his throat, he said, “Beverly, the gal who runs the inn, is a great cook. Best food you’ll ever have in your life.”

  “Is that right? You got something going with her, E?”

  Eric felt his neck flush but told himself it was from being called “E” for the first time in decades. “Of course I don’t.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Jack’s voice now held a touch of humor.

  He chuckled. “I don’t know. There might be something between us. It’s kind of hard to tell.” Embarrassed that he could sound so flustered at his age, he redirected things. “So, hey, what do you think? Want to come to Florida for Christmas? It’s sure to be warmer than Cleveland.” Funny how much easier it was to talk about the warmth being the draw instead of himself.

  “Florida would be a lot warmer.” Jack inhaled, then Eric heard nothing but imaginary crickets.

  Eric pursed his lips and waited. And he found himself hoping for something, just like he’d used to back when they were kids and Eric had wanted his big brother to do something with him.

  At last, Jack spoke. “Listen, I, um, really appreciate it. But I don’t think I can swing it. Not this year, anyway. I’m working, but guys at my level aren’t making a mint.”

  Eric knew Jack had included that last part as his way of apology. But now that he’d gotten this far, he pushed a little bit more. Something told him that Jack needed him this Christmas.

  “Let me buy you the ticket.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Because I really want you to come.” As he said the words, he realized he was speaking the truth. He needed his brother, too. “Please,” he added. “I’ve got the money. Let me use it.”

  “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

  Was that wonder in his brother’s voice? “I’m serious as a heart attack,” he said. Just like their dad used to say.

  “I couldn’t come for long. I have a real job, you know.”

  Eric swallowed hard. The emotion he felt was coming through powerfully. “You don’t have to stay long. Stay for a week. Or five days. Or, I don’t care, just come for two nights.”

  “You’d actually buy me a ticket to see you for two nights?”

  Eric was realizing he’d spend the money to see his brother for two hours. “I would. Jack, come on the twenty-fourth. Leave on the twenty-sixth.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “There’s nothing to think about, is there?”

  “I need to check my work schedule. And, well, I do need to think about it for a day or two. Do you mind giving me a little bit of time?”

  Eric knew Jack wasn’t simply thinking about spending two nights together under the same roof for the first time in almost two decades. He was asking if Eric thought they could start to have a relationship again.

  “I can give you that.” He swallowed hard again. “I’ll call again on the fourteenth or fifteenth.”

  “Okay. Or I’ll call you.”

  “Can you believe this? We’re actually talking about seeing each other. And speaking more than once a year.” He was smiling like he’d just won the lottery.

  “It’s pretty cool. Hey, uh, E?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thanks for picking up the phone.”

  “I should have called you months ago. I’m sorry.”

  “I should have called you, too. After all, you are my kid brother.”

  “I’m hardly that.”

  “You’ll always be that. Always.”

  After they said good-bye, Eric wondered if Jack’s voice had really so
unded as husky as he’d imagined.

  Or was it how he was feeling?

  Chapter 12

  December 12

  When the doorbell chimed at three in the afternoon, Beverly rushed to answer it. This was it! The first guests since the break-in had arrived. A handful of emotions swirled inside her. She felt nervous and awkward, excited and worried.

  But, of course, the guests could never know this.

  Instead, she forced herself to smile and act gracious as she opened the door to the four Englishers on the doorstep. “Wilcom!” she said. “Welcome to the Orange Blossom Inn.”

  “Thank you,” one of the gentlemen said. “I’m Bryan Evans. This is my wife, Betty, and daughter, Amy, and her husband, Colten.”

  Beverly nodded and smiled at everyone as she introduced herself. “I am Beverly Overholt, the manager of the inn.” Stepping back, she waved an arm with a little flourish. “Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

  She knew everything looked as pretty and clean as it possibly could. Eric had painted trim for hours yesterday while she’d polished the furniture until every piece in the gathering room gleamed. On two of the tables sat new lamps. They were made of stained glass and looked perfectly elegant. Two fresh balsam candles scented the room.

  As they entered and hung their jackets on the brass coatrack next to the door, Bryan looked around the entryway with a critical eye and said, “We were really glad one of your employees called and said that you were still open for business.”

  “We’ve been planning to spend Christmas here in Sarasota for almost a year,” Betty said. “So when you emailed to say that you had decided to not host guests until January, we were devastated.”

  Beverly thought about the evasive way she’d cancelled their reservation and realized that Sadie had been exactly right. It had been wrong for her to simply cancel without providing a good reason. “I’m glad you were still able to stay here.”

  “It was a matter of us being pretty desperate. No place else had room in their inn,” her husband replied, smiling at his little Christmas-themed quip.

  Beverly had a feeling she was going to be hearing comments like that a lot. “Well, you’re here now. Please, come in. We have coffee and tea and some cookies that I baked fresh this morning if you’d like some. After you sign in, I’ll show you to your rooms so you can get settled.”