Chapter Three
Owen shook the snow from his hat-covered head and stomped his feet on the stoop, then stepped into the warm foyer of the bed-and-breakfast.
Satisfaction settled down around him; he and Jeff had made good progress on Sara’s roofing job over the course of the past week. Now it was Saturday, and though he typically didn’t work on weekends so he could spend time with Janey, he was glad he’d done so today. If they kept up at the rate they were working, they’d be done in plenty of time for him to finish up the Wilson job before he and Jane took off for Moonlight Cove. Art had willingly taken over Bill Montrose’s deck project and had welcomed the work. He’d said his newly retired wife was driving him crazy at home.
Funny how Owen couldn’t quite understand that sentiment. In his world, husbands and wives enjoyed each others’ company. Wasn’t his place to judge, though, and who knew? Maybe the work arrangement might actually be good for Art’s marriage in some twisted kind of way.
The scent of roasting meat hit Owen as soon as he closed the door. His stomach grumbled and he had to admit, he was enjoying Sara’s cooking. A lot, since she was quite good in the kitchen. And she was really kind and generous, both to him, and more important, to Jane. And...well, no question she was easy on the eyes.
That thought was confirmed when she stepped out of the kitchen, her finger pressed to her lips in the universal sign for “be quiet.” She wore a festive red-and-green apron over a cream-colored turtleneck, slim jeans and black, fur-trimmed boots. Her hair was piled up in a loose bun and tendrils of glossy chestnut hair waved around her rosy face. No question, she possessed a fresh-faced beauty he really found appealing.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, surprised at how glad he was to see her. Shocked, actually; he’d never had even an iota of interest in any woman but Kristy since they’d met in college, and certainly no one since she’d died. What was going on indeed—a loaded question to himself if he’d ever heard one. Loaded, like an automatic nail gun in the wrong hands. One twitchy finger or bad aim, and someone went down.
Sara moved closer, pointing to the parlor. “The girls fell asleep on the couch, and I’d like to let them sleep a few more minutes until dinner is ready,” she whispered.
He stepped forward and craned his neck. Jane and Mia laid end to end on the couch, both conked out while Big Bird spouted lessons on the TV in the corner. “Ah, okay,” he replied, smiling at the sight of the snoozing twosome. “What did you do? Make them run a marathon?”
“Nope,” Sara said, an impish grin on her face. “We just played in the snow all afternoon.”
“I saw. It looked like you guys were having a great time.”
“Did you see the snow girls we built?”
“Nice touch, the cookie eyes, carrot noses and pink scarves.” He’d watched Sara help Mia and Jane build the snow girls from the roof as he’d been working, and he’d been impressed by her patience and creativity, not to mention her kindness toward Jane. Sara clearly loved children, and he knew his daughter was very fortunate to be able to spend even a little time with her. For that reason alone he was glad Sara and Mia had come into Jane’s life, no matter how briefly.
“Thanks.” She motioned him to follow her into the kitchen. “They insisted on dressing them in something pink.”
“It’s Janey’s favorite color,” he said.
“Mia’s, too.”
His mouth watered even more as the scent of what smelled like pot roast and roasting potatoes filled the air. “Do I smell pot roast?”
“Yep.” Sara grabbed two oven mitts from the counter and opened the oven. With a flourish she pulled out a huge roast. “My aunt Tasha’s recipe.”
“Smells great,” he said.
She put the roasting pan down on the stove and patted the oven. “This baby has made this dish hundreds of times, and I thought tonight would be a great night for an extra hearty, rib-sticking meal.”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“The town tree lighting is tonight, and Mia and I will be out later than usual.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, where has the time gone? We’d better wake the girls up so we can eat. The lighting starts promptly at seven.”
Owen’s stomach clenched. “I didn’t realize that was tonight.” Or more like he hadn’t wanted to realize the annual tradition was tonight. He and Kristy used to go to the lighting every year, and somehow the thought of attending without her just hadn’t seemed right since her death.
“It’s always the third Saturday in December.” Sara turned to him. “Are you guys going?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She raised her brows. “Why not? Pretty much everybody in town goes, and I think Jane would love it.”
He paused, wondering what to say to that; she was right. Even so, he wasn’t quite comfortable with hanging his memories of Kristy out on his sleeve.
“I’m sorry for prying,” Sara said as his silence stretched out. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“I do.” Lots of them.
“But if you want to go, Mia would be thrilled, I’m sure, to have her new best friend with her for the event.”
He stalled, torn. “I don’t know...” On the one hand, the prospect of facing the ceremony without Kristy filled him with a hollow numbness he’d rather cut off in its tracks. But on the other hand, Janey would love the experience. She’d already commented on some of the Christmas lights on houses around town and had asked about Santa Claus a couple of times lately. Besides, he knew the event was designed for all ages, and the town went all out with the whole Christmas theme. There would be carolers, cookie decorating, popcorn stringing and gingerbread-house-making booths and, of course, Santa would be putting in an appearance.
No doubt about it; tonight, the Snowglobe Town Square would be the place to be for just about everyone in town, kids most especially. Could he really deprive Janey of that Christmas cheer, all because he didn’t want to face memories of Christmases past? Trouble was, he couldn’t.
He looked at Sara standing patiently by, waiting for an answer. “All right, we’ll go.” He was all about what was best for Janey.
Sara clapped. “Great. Mia will be thrilled!” Sara headed toward the parlor, talking over her shoulder. “Let’s get the girls up, have us some rib-sticking pot roast and potatoes and then bundle up and head down to the ceremony.”
He followed Sara into the parlor, wondering about the wisdom of his decision given how many memories were sure to surface during the event. It might be an emotional night for him, and the last thing he wanted was to get upset in public.
He nudged Janey awake as Sara did the same to Mia. Both girls woke up slowly, rubbing their eyes as they sat up.
“Time to get up, sleepyheads,” Sara said. “We have to eat so we can go to the tree-lighting ceremony in town.”
Janey blinked up at him. “We go, too, Daddy?” she said hopefully, gazing up at him with those big blue eyes of hers.
Toast. He was toast. “Yep, we are, honey.”
“Yippee!” she and Mia said in unison. They both jumped off the couch, their sleepiness gone, and bounced around the room, crowing in high-pitched voices about Christmas lights, Santa and the cookies they’d be decorating.
Sara looked at him, then nodded toward the girls. “Guess we made them happy.”
Exactly. “Guess we did.” And in that moment, he knew without a doubt that experiencing the wonder of Christmas through his daughter’s eyes was worth any price.
* * *
“Mama, look at my cookie!” Mia said, her eyes sparkling.
Sara bent down and admired the Christmas-tree-shaped cookie Mia had decorated with white frosting and green and red sprinkles. “Nice job,” she said, wiping a bit of frosting from Mia’s cheek.
They’d arrived in town and ma
de a beeline for the cookie-decorating station at Porter’s Bakery so the girls could do that before the tree-lighting ceremony. At the moment, Mia and Jane were alone at the table, although Sara was sure a fresh wave of kids would show up any moment.
Janey had her head bent down as she meticulously covered her snowman cookie with different colored dots of frosting. Red, green, yellow. Red, green, yellow.
Sara looked at Owen, who stood behind his daughter. “She’s quite the little artist.”
“Yeah.” His mouth curved into a sad smile. “She got that from Kristy, who was the artistic one. Unlike me.” He shrugged. “I still draw stick figures.”
“I’m not a very good artist, either,” Sara said. “I should do more artsy projects with Mia, but I have no idea how to go about it.”
“Kristy was very creative and was really excited to be able to share her love of art and crafting with Janey.” He shook his head. “She actually wanted to start teaching children’s art classes when Janey got a bit older and had already picked out supplies and furniture for the space in the third bedroom of our house. She had a whole plan in place.”
“Kristy sounds like she was a wonderful person,” Sara said softly.
“She was,” Owen replied so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “She was an amazing woman.”
Sara’s heart twisted; clearly, he was still struggling with Kristy’s death. Who wouldn’t be? He’d suffered a terrible loss—the loss of love.
Sara understood that, at least.
Though her instincts told her to offer support, now wasn’t the time. Instead, she simply nodded to acknowledge his statement, and then bent to take the sprinkles away from Mia. “Hey, there, sweet pea. I think we have enough sprinkles.” She turned a rueful gaze up to Owen. “Can you say ‘sugar high’?”
“Oh, yeah.” He pointed to Janey’s cookie, which was now heaped with multicolored frosting dots.
It was time to go and let some other kids decorate. Sara cleaned Mia up with the baby wipes provided while Owen did the same for Janey. And then they stepped outside, handed the girls their cookies and let them nibble as they headed to the tree-lighting ceremony across the town square.
The roads around the square had been closed, so there was no traffic to deal with, not that there was ever that much in Snowglobe. Still, it was nice to be able to walk in the street and not worry about watching for cars.
Thankfully, it had stopped snowing a few hours ago, and the skies had cleared. So rather than having blizzard conditions for the event, it was simply a very cold, clear night, with the moon slung low in the dark night sky, the stars twinkling in the background.
As she took in the picture-perfect scene before her, Sara snuggled into the scarf around her neck, glad she had dressed warmly. It was going to be a chilly night for sure.
Snowglobe had come alive for this night—the town council had strung tiny white lights on all the trees lining the town square and had put big red bows on the streetlights. The huge Christmas tree in the center rose up, a dark mass just waiting to be lit with thousands of multicolored lights it had taken volunteers days to string. Carolers strolled around in groups, singing joyous Christmas songs, their breath forming misty clouds in the freezing night air.
Nothing said Christmas like this festive night in Snowglobe.
She slanted a glance at Owen as they walked, noting his strong profile beneath his hat. What was it about him that drew her attention so? Sure, he was handsome. But there was something else there, something that had her thinking about him at the oddest times.
It had been obvious back at her house that he’d been reluctant to come here tonight; she guessed that he and Kristy had probably attended the ceremony together at some point—everybody in town turned out for the event, which was doubling as a fund-raiser for the local hospital this year—and that maybe he was worried about sad memories surfacing. But he’d agreed to come, for Janey’s sake, Sara was sure, and she really admired him for putting his daughter first, even when it was clearly difficult for him.
He was a good dad, and examples of that had been few and far between in her life.
Maybe that was the reason she was so drawn to him, because she liked the kind of parent he was. And because he was so unlike her own father and Mia’s dad. In a very good way, of course.
Whatever the case, as long as she kept her feelings firmly entrenched in the “like” category, she’d be fine. Anything less than complete emotional vigilance would be dangerous; Owen was leaving in a few weeks, end of story.
Feeling on a more even kilter, Sara stopped next to the bookstore, noting that both Mia and Janey had frosting all over their hands and faces again. “Get a load of them,” she said, motioning to the girls. “Did they eat cookies or just frosting?”
“I come prepared,” Owen said, producing a few more wipes from his coat pocket. “We’re gonna need these.”
They cleaned the girls up once more and were soon on their way to the center of the town square.
Sara said hello to several townspeople she recognized as they ambled along, including Amy Caldwell, a friend from high school, who’d moved back to town to run The Snowglobe Gift Shoppe, which her mom, Dana Caldwell, owned. Rumor had it that Amy was seeing her ex-fiancé, Rafe Westfield, just back from a few tours in the Middle East with the marines. They’d been together since high school but had broken it off when Rafe had left to join the military. Sara knew Rafe had crushed Amy’s heart by leaving; another reminder to Sara to keep her own heart safe.
Though Sara hadn’t socialized hardly at all since she’d moved back here two and a half years ago, she had grown up in Snowglobe, and knew lots of people who’d lived in these parts for ages. She had to admit, it was nice to come out from under her rock for a while and actually interact with the community.
To Sara’s delight, the girls oohed and ahhed over the glittering lights displayed in the shops’ windows. Just about the time they stopped to admire some pretty decorations in the window of the florist, Sara heard sleigh bells echoing through the square.
“Oh, look!” she said, pointing left. “Mr. Ingerson is running his horse-drawn sleigh!” Sara knew Mr. Ingerson in passing, and had ridden his sleigh a few times over the years at the tree lighting.
A few moments later, the sleigh, pulled by two huge palomino Percheron draft horses with long, silky flaxen-colored manes, glided around the corner a half a block down.
“Look, Daddy!” Janey exclaimed. “Horseys!”
Mia jumped up and down. “I love horseys!”
As luck would have it, the sleigh headed toward the curb just in front of Sara and Owen and the girls, and then with a gentle “whoa” from Mr. Ingerson, pulled to a smooth stop right there. The horses obediently stood, their huge necks arched, foggy breath puffing out of their velvety noses.
“Pretty horseys,” Mia said. “I love them!”
The horses were decorated with green-and-red ribbons in their manes and tails, and the sleigh was covered in twinkling white lights. The leather straps that went over the horses’ shoulders were adorned with bells that jingled merrily as the animals moved.
Mr. Ingerson tipped the stiff brim of his bright red hat. “Hey, girls. Would you like to be my first ride of the evening? There’s plenty of room for all four of you.” His gray mustache twitched and his eyes twinkled. “If you don’t mind getting a bit cozy.”
Sara looked at Owen as she tried to ignore the thought of getting “cozy” with him. This wasn’t that kind of evening. “What do you think? Do you want to go?”
“I do!” Mia said.
“Me, too!” Janey added.
Owen canted his head to the side and quirked his mouth. “Who am I to say no to a group of adorable females?”
“Excellent!” Mr. Ingerson wrapped the thick leather reins over a hook on the side of the sleigh
and then alighted. “Allow me,” he said, holding his hand out for Sara. “You and your gentleman friend will need to sit and hold the girls on your laps.”
With Mia and Janey squealing in delight, Sara climbed in first, followed by Owen, who then leaned over and lifted each girl into the back of the sleigh with Mr. Ingerson’s help. After Owen put Mia on Sara’s lap, he sat down, barely fitting in the leftover space next to Sara.
She suppressed a gasp at the feel of his broad, solid shoulder pressing against her own. He was a big guy and the seat was very small for two adults with three-year-olds on their laps.
Mr. Ingerson got back in and settled in the front seat. As he took up the reins, he turned, those eyes glinting again. “You’ll have to put your arm around her,” he said to Owen, nodding toward Sara. “It’s a better fit that way, and warmer, too.” He winked.
Oh, Sara doubted she could get any warmer.
“He’s probably right,” Owen said, shifting to the side. A pause. “Um...do you mind?”
Sara cleared her throat. “Not at all,” she replied, her voice high-pitched, even to her own ears. “It’ll probably be more comfortable.” In some ways. But other ways? Not so much.
“I agree.” Owen leaned to the side and lifted his arm, then hesitantly placed it stiffly over her shoulder, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.
Sara’s heart pounded at the contact, and she deliberately held herself awkwardly upright, needing to keep some kind of barrier, no matter how small, between them for her own sanity.
“So, girls,” Mr. Ingerson said. “Are you ready for Caramel and Latte to take us on a ride?”
As he spoke, the horses stomped their feet at the sound of their names, obviously raring to go, and the sleigh bells jingled a cheerful tune.
“Yes!” Mia and Janey squealed, each bouncing up and down on the lap they sat in. “Let’s go!”
A Snowglobe Christmas Page 12
