We Need a Little Christmas

by Sierra Donovan

  “My turn,” Liv said. “What was up with you last night? You and Mom took off like the room was on fire.”

  “We were tired.” Rachel poured her cup of coffee, trying for those wide, innocent eyes again.

  Liv tapped the tabletop with her fingernail.

  “Okay.” Rachel settled into her chair, across the table from Liv. “I was trying to do something nice. Scotty makes you smile. And we’re all going through a lot of stuff right now. Literally and figuratively.”

  “Scotty Leroux, emotional first aid kit? You told me he was a big Romeo.”

  “I was kidding around. He’s dated a lot of girls, but I’ve never heard any of them say anything bad about him. And he’s nice. Maybe that doesn’t sound like much, but it can be awfully hard to come by these days. I never told you about the guy I went out with before Brian and I got engaged.”

  Kevin had seemed nice, too. Until, all of a sudden, he dumped her, and she’d felt like a fool.

  Liv backtracked. “I missed something. You and Brian dated all through high school.”

  “Until we broke up the summer after graduation. Everybody expected us to end up together, but I wanted to see what else was out there, I guess.”

  “So you found out you were right the first time?”

  “Basically.”

  Liv had always wondered how Rachel could be sure she was ready to get married when she was barely twenty years old. If Rachel’s visible contentment was any indication, it was working out well. Well enough, apparently, that Rachel was worried about her now.

  Her little sister wasn’t supposed to be more together than she was.

  “Brian’s coming up tomorrow night, isn’t he?” Liv asked.

  Rachel nodded with a Mona Lisa smile that Liv tried not to read as smug. After all, it had been at least a week since Rachel had seen her husband. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

  Her sister nodded. “His schedule’s really been awful. Ten days on, ten days off. I hated that he couldn’t even get away for the memorial. I think they would have let him off if it hadn’t been for that big fire.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “They’re hard to find,” Rachel reiterated. “I guess that’s why I thought you and Scotty—”

  “Nice idea, but don’t forget, I live in Texas.”

  “Okay. I won’t try to push it anymore. I guess I was a little obvious.”

  “You think?”

  “Plus, it’s kind of nice just to have a guy around. This week has been pretty . . . hormone heavy.”

  Liv had to admit, Scott had played the part of emotional buffer more than once. “Poor guy. He probably feels like he walked into a Bette Davis movie.”

  The creaking and clumping of Mom’s crutches heralded her approach. Rachel said, “Don’t give her a hard time about last night. It was my idea. She just went along with it.”

  The sound of crutches came closer. Sudden realization seized Liv.

  “My clothes!” She flew to her feet to snatch her staged evidence off the living room floor.

  * * *

  The last thing Scott expected to see when he pulled up to The Snowed Inn was Rachel’s blue sedan. He didn’t think he would have recognized Rachel’s car until earlier this week, when he loaded the silver Christmas tree into the trunk.

  That tree. With the color wheel he’d volunteered to help Liv hunt through the attic for. He’d forgotten about that when he left last night. He hadn’t been thinking straight at all. No, last night he’d been too busy trying to make something happen when Liv obviously had too much else on her mind. When he just needed to grow up and take no for an answer.

  He gave the steering wheel a brief, tight squeeze and got out of the truck. He had work to do, and he’d get it done. He just hadn’t counted on running into a Tomblyn this morning.

  It could be Rachel. It wouldn’t be Faye. But his gut, and Murphy’s Law, told him it was Liv in there.

  He went inside and found Jake, who led the way to the problem: a leaky kitchen sink. Scott refrained from mentioning that the sink was one of the things he hadn’t installed at the hotel. Something about Jake’s wanting to give The Snowed Inn’s business to more than one local repairman. Scott didn’t buy it. He knew he wasn’t one of Jake Wyndham’s favorite people. Friendly and diplomatic as Jake was, most people would never notice. But Wyndham always maintained an extra layer of polite professionalism when he dealt with Scott.

  As fate would have it, the kitchen wasn’t empty. They walked in on Mandy and Liv, who appeared to be in the midst of some sort of cabinet reorganization project. The counter across the room from the sink was scattered with mugs, canisters, cinnamon sticks, and mysterious-looking bottles of what might be flavored syrups.

  “Hey, ladies,” Scott said.

  Liv turned, looking startled, and banged the top of her head on the open cabinet door above her. “Ouch!”

  Scott started toward her, but Mandy was already right next to Liv. She put a hand on Liv’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Liv said in the irritated tone of someone who’d just banged her head. She shut her eyes and rubbed her scalp.

  “Sorry,” Scott said. “I was trying not to startle you.”

  Liv opened her eyes, their expression still carrying a glimmer of annoyance. And Scott remembered the last time they’d locked eyes.

  Apparently, Liv did, too. Her annoyed look dissipated into something like confusion. “Hi, Scott.”

  “Hi.” He tried to will away the awkwardness. “Sorry about your head.”

  She made a face. “I’m okay. No real damage done.” Rubbing her head again, she turned back toward the cabinet and picked up where she and Mandy had left off.

  “Think left to right,” she said. “That’s how we read, so that’s how our brains tend to work. So if you set up your first ingredients on the left, and just work your way down the line, you spend less time scrambling back and forth.”

  “So, coffee and cocoa on the left, sprinkles and cinnamon sticks on the right,” Mandy said.

  “Exactly. You’ll get a system down in no time.”

  Jake showed him the problem and vanished back toward the lobby. Scott slid under the sink and moved the drip-catching bucket aside after making sure the water was shut off. He examined the pipes, working to the tune of the murmured conversation between the two women. Once he found the problem, he lingered under the sink, because he knew he couldn’t get any further without a trip to Coffman’s Hardware.

  “Thanks,” Mandy said. “I’m used to making one or two drinks at a time, so whenever we get more than that, it’s a rush.”

  “Business is good, then?”

  “Picking up.”

  “Everyone loves Mandy’s hot chocolate.” Jake came back in from the lobby. As Scott emerged from under the kitchen sink, Jake walked up behind Mandy and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

  “Do you see this?” Mandy stepped backward, leaning easily into Jake as she gestured at the tidy cabinet shelves. “I owe you a cup, Liv.”

  “Thanks so much, but I’ll have to take a rain check,” Liv said. “I need to book that room and get back to my mom and sister.”

  Scott clambered to his feet, wishing he knew a less clumsy way to get up off a kitchen floor. He kept his eyes off Liv, wondering if she was watching him, or if he was imagining it again. “I found the problem,” he told Jake. “But I’ll need to pick up some parts. You’ve got a couple of options.”

  Jake wore the disconcerted look of a man who didn’t relish making mechanical decisions. Scott knew the look well; he saw it on customers a lot. Jake shifted his glance to Mandy, who was still occupied with refining her cabinet shelves into a model of order. “Tell you what,” Jake said. “Let me get Liv squared away first.”

  Curious about what was going on with Liv and a hotel room, Scott followed Jake and Liv out to the lobby.

  “You’re booking a room why?” he asked as Jake settled in behind the check-in counter and Liv took
her place on the customers’ side.

  “Rachel’s husband is coming for the weekend.” Liv leaned her elbows on the varnished wood. “We’ve been sharing a double bed in our old room. But she thrashes around a lot, and I found out the other night my mom’s couch is an instrument of torture.”

  Scott frowned. “So you’re booking yourself a room to keep from sleeping on the torture-couch?”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “No, the hotel room is for Brian and Rachel. This way I can stay in the double bed without breaking my back. And I thought a couple of romantic nights might make kind of a nice early Christmas present.” She frowned. “Unless that seems selfish, with everything that’s going on.”

  Selfish? “No. I think it’s nice of you.”

  “We have five rooms open for Friday and Saturday,” Jake said from behind the check-in computer monitor. “Not counting the bridal suite. It’s a little pricier, and—oh, hey, it’s actually booked,” he noted with a smile. “Let’s narrow it down a little. I’ve got three with a fireplace, two with a wood-burning stove. Which sounds better?”

  Liv frowned and turned to Scott. “What do you think? Fireplace or wood-burning stove?” She blinked self-consciously, as if she suddenly remembered who she was talking to.

  She’d be more self-conscious if she could read his thoughts. Unbidden, his mind conjured a picture of a room with Liv in it, and the way firelight would play on her already-fiery chestnut hair. He didn’t dare think any further, because he felt his face reddening.

  He forced his mind back to practical matters. After all, that was why she’d asked. Wasn’t it?

  “Probably the fireplace,” he said. “The wood-burning stove is pretty, too, but once those get going, it can get really hot.”

  Did that sound suggestive to anyone besides him, or was his mind in the gutter?

  And Jake stood by, hands on keyboard, hearing every word.

  “Fireplace,” Liv said to Jake, delivering Scott from his brief stint in purgatory.

  “Okay, that leaves us with . . .” Jake turned the computer monitor toward Liv. Over her shoulder Scott saw listings for the remaining rooms, each with a photo insert showing its decorating scheme.

  “That’s really impressive,” Liv said.

  “Thanks. It’s the same screen we use on our website, so out-of-towners can see what we have.”

  Scott knew they were talking businessperson to businessperson, but he still felt a stupid sort of envy as Liv admired Jake’s professional handiwork.

  After a few moments’ contemplation, Liv said, “I think . . . ‘White Christmas.’”

  It was the room with the snowflake decorating scheme. Jake nodded, turned the monitor back his way, and started typing. “That’s one of Mandy’s favorites. Heck, they’re all Mandy’s favorites. She really enjoyed putting them together.”

  Liv’s face settled into a smile as they finished making the arrangements. And once again, Scott felt Jake’s watchful presence. Then, thankfully, the phone rang, and Jake picked it up.

  As Liv turned from the counter, Scott asked, “So, are we still on for Tuesday?”

  She may have stiffened. “Sure.” She paused. “Unless that doesn’t work for you.”

  She stood back slightly, and at first Scott thought she was trying to physically distance herself. Then he realized she was trying to avoid tipping her head back to look up at him. He leaned against the counter of the front desk, the relaxed posture lowering his height by a couple of inches.

  “No,” he said, “I want to be there when the heater guy shows up. But if you’d rather go along to your mom’s appointment, I could borrow a key. I mean, if you’d feel comfortable doing that.”

  The air between them seemed to stir with invisible atoms of unease. “No,” Liv said. “I mean, I want to sort through the attic, and Tuesday’s a great time to do it. I won’t have to worry about Mom or Rachel trying to climb around like mountain goats.”

  As she referenced his comment from last night, she cracked a smile, and Scott gladly returned it. The awkwardness was still there, but maybe they were past the worst of it. “The heater guy gave me one of those great time windows,” he said. “Between noon and four. When is your mom’s appointment?”

  “Two thirty.”

  Behind him, Scott heard Jake hanging up. Scott straightened from his leaning position, and Liv took another step back.

  “I’d better get going,” she said. “I told Mom and Rachel I was picking up donuts. I want the room to be a surprise.”

  Scott nodded. “See you Tuesday. I’ll be there by noon.”

  As Liv walked to the door, his eyes dropped to her retreating shoes. Rose-patterned tennies again, but this time the roses were actually rose-colored, probably to go with the maroon sweater she wore. Scott’s eyes lingered on the door as it closed behind her.

  “Give her a break,” Jake said. “Her grandmother just died.”

  Scott turned. “Give her a break? What does that mean?”

  “I mean, I’m sure Liv has a lot to deal with. And you’re looking at her like she’s another Tiffany. Or Angie.”

  Was that why Jake was always so carefully polite to him? Really?

  Scott leaned against the counter again, forcing a casualness he didn’t feel. “I didn’t know you were so interested in my social life. You didn’t even live here when I was going out with Angie. What exactly are you getting at?”

  Jake let out a slow breath, as if he was trying to get a handle on his usual good manners. “Never mind. Tell me about the sink.”

  But today, for some reason, Scott found he did mind. “No. Back up a minute. What makes you think—”

  Mandy came in from the kitchen, two whipped-cream-topped mugs in hand, and Scott fell silent. She raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”

  Suddenly Scott wished he’d just kept his cool.

  Jake, looking shamefaced, gave the time-honored reply: “Nothing.”

  Mandy scrutinized them, clearly not buying it. “I brought you both a hot chocolate.” Her tone was slightly disapproving, like a parent who’d walked in on a couple of eight-year-olds squabbling over a game of Monopoly.

  “That’s okay,” Scott told her. “You can have mine. I was just heading out.”

  “Wait,” Jake said. “First I need to know about the sink.”

  Scott heaved a sigh. He usually avoided criticizing other workmen, but today he found he just didn’t have the patience. “Your problem,” he said, trying and failing to keep the terseness out of his voice, “is the guy you hired didn’t know better than to use copper pipes up here. So when we had that big freeze Sunday night, the pipes cracked. Now you need to decide—”

  Mandy strode past him to the little coffee bar and set both drinks down. “Drink your hot chocolate. And, please, whatever’s going on with you two, fix it.” She turned, her eyes darting between them. “Really, I don’t get it. The two nicest guys I know, and it always seems like you’re one step away from butting heads.”

  Scott wouldn’t have thought it was obvious to anyone else.

  “We weren’t . . .” Jake began, and ran out of steam under Mandy’s skeptical stare.

  “Sit. Drink. Please.” She threw up her hands like an orchestra’s maestro.

  She vanished back into the kitchen before either of them came up with a response, and the two of them stood alone in the cheery lobby. Scott wasn’t annoyed anymore. Just really uncomfortable.

  “Okay.” Jake passed a hand roughly through his hair. “That was embarrassing.” The edge had gone out of his voice, returning them to their usual strained unease.

  “Look, I’m going to go.”

  “Not so fast. Remember, I have to live with her.” With a rueful shake of his head, Jake made his way to the coffee bar. “And I think I owe you an apology. Come on. You don’t want to pass up Mandy’s hot chocolate, anyway. Trust me.”

  Scott eyed the exit longingly. “What happens if I bail instead?”

  “I have no
idea. This has never happened before.”

  Scott could argue that he didn’t have time for this. Or he could drink the darned hot chocolate and satisfy Mandy, who usually didn’t have a cross word for anyone. So he joined Jake, taking the high-backed stool one down from Jake’s, leaving an empty seat between them.

  Scott took an experimental sip of cocoa and no longer regretted sticking around. It was amazingly rich, and the perfect drinking temperature. “So,” he said, after relishing his drink for a moment. “The pipes. You can either replace the copper with PVC pipe, which I recommend, or—”

  “Done. Put in what we need.”

  “You don’t want to know how much?”

  “I trust you. Your prices were better than the other guy’s anyway.”

  “That’s because copper’s more expensive. It didn’t used to be, but now some people assume it’s better just because it costs more.” Either that, or the other guy had been looking for ways to jack up the price. But Scott held his tongue.

  Instead, he asked, “So why hire somebody else?”

  Jake took a deep drink and appeared to consider. “Maybe because I wanted to give another contractor a shot at some of our business—”

  Scott had heard that one before.

  Jake sighed. “Or maybe because you got on my nerves.”

  Now they were getting down to it. Did he really want to hear this? “Why?”

  “Okay, I’ll just say it. The first time I ever saw you, you were eyeballing my wife. I guess I’ve never forgotten that.”

  Scott tried to remember what Jake was talking about. Then it came back to him. A late summer evening a couple of years ago, out on the town square. Mandy Reese, with some guy he’d never seen before. He’d been staring, all right. Mandy was always pretty to look at. But that night, what had really drawn his eye was the way she was looking at the stranger in the polo shirt. “She wasn’t your wife yet.”

  Jake shrugged. “I didn’t say it was rational.”

  “You can’t be serious. You got the girl. I haven’t been able to pull that one off yet.”

  “Either that, or you’ve gotten a few too many.” Jake’s tone didn’t have the earlier sharpness, but he grimaced at his own words. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. I was trying to be funny.”