Christmas of Love

by Erin Wright

  The truth was, it was awkward as hell to go out to public events like concerts by himself, and going with Declan would seem too much like they were dating, which would send all sorts of wrong signals to this tiny mountain town. So, he’d stayed away from pretty much every public event in Long Valley since he’d moved there, despite the fact that this left him lonely most nights.

  Which he liked. Of course. He didn’t want to find a girlfriend. He was happy being alone.

  Somehow, the idea of going to the bells concert with Ivy made him even happier, though.

  She stood there for a long while, staring at him, her eyes inscrutable, until she finally nodded. “Okay,” she said softly.

  “Okay,” he repeated, half stunned. He’d somehow expected her to say no, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was almost as surprised by her answer as he was.

  He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so he swung up on Bob to ride away before she could change her mind. “See you at 6:30 at your parent’s house?” When she nodded her assent, he wheeled Bob around and headed back out of the clearing, a tuneless whistle echoing through the snowy forest as he made his way back to the trailhead.

  Today was turning out to be a pretty damn good day.

  Chapter 5

  Ivy

  Today was turning out to be a horrible day. Ivy paced the confines of her childhood bedroom, feeling the walls closing in on her.

  First, she’d been drawing the Goldfork Mountains, and she just didn’t do that kind of thing. She’d made it a point years ago not to draw landscapes, and certainly not to draw Idaho landscapes. She was a California girl, dammit, and did her best to pretend she’d never even heard of Idaho most days.

  But then, on top of that slip-up, she’d said yes to Austin’s offer to go to the bells concert, a concert she’d spent most of her teenage years doing her best to avoid.

  The last time she’d gone was in the 9th grade. Tiffany and Ezzy had sat behind her and had pulled her hair anytime they thought no one was looking. She’d turned around and glared at them, but they’d simply send her angelic stares, shrugging their shoulders dramatically. She hadn’t wanted to whine to her parents – what kind of a baby whined to their parents about someone pulling their hair – so she’d suffered through the concert quietly.

  She always mysteriously had a headache the night of the bells concert after that.

  Going back there was…

  She shivered, feeling a little ill at the thought. That night had been the start of the bullying – Tiffany and Ezzy had never been best buds with her, and they’d teased her a few times previously, but that night was when it really began, and didn’t stop until she walked off the auditorium stage the night of graduation and never looked back.

  They were, in a roundabout way, the reason why she was in the predicament she was in. If she hadn’t pushed herself to be successful, or at least appear to—

  She heard thumping up in the attic, sidetracking her from her thoughts. Was her dad cleaning the attic? She smiled sadly to herself. That was so like her dad – keeping himself busy while waiting for something useful to do. He wasn’t one to sit around, waiting for the world to come to him.

  If he couldn’t fix Iris and make her all better, well dammit, he’d clean out the attic.

  She wandered out into the hallway, working her way around the fold-down ladder, extending from the ceiling. She could see dust motes dancing in the air of the attic. Truthfully, it was probably a disaster up there, and deserved to be cleaned, whether or not Iris was in the hospital.

  “Iv—! Oh hi, there you are,” he said, spotting her as he peered down through the opening. “Look at what I found.” He extended out a dusty plastic container to her, and she climbed up onto the lowest rung of the ladder so she could grab it. “Your art supplies from high school,” he proudly announced, as if she couldn’t already tell what it was she was holding.

  “Thanks, Dad,” she said, feeling a little choked up at the sight. She cleared her throat. She looked up at him, peering down through the attic door opening, cobwebs stuck in his hair and spread across his shirt, giving him the appearance of having lived in – or at least decorated – a haunted house. She smiled a little. “Hey, do you think it’d be okay if I went back to Boise tomorrow?”

  When Iris had first woken up in the hospital, she’d been frantic with worry about not telling Declan she was there. She’d become so agitated, the head nurse had told the McLains that they were only allowed to have one visitor in the room at a time, so they’d have to decide among them who that’d be.

  Mom had won that prize, of course, and hadn’t left Iris’ side since then. Dad and Ivy had driven back to Sawyer to wait the doctors out. It had been four days – surely they’d allow someone else in there by now.

  “Yeah, the doctor has said that we can start having two visitors starting tomorrow. After I find Iris’ teddy bear, I was going to drive over there and spell your momma so she could come back home and sleep in a real bed tonight. Tomorrow, though, I know she’ll want to come back. You could hitch a ride with her then.”

  Ivy had to hide her laugh at the thought of Iris getting her teddy bear from childhood delivered to her at the hospital. It was sweet of her dad to think of it, although Iris, at age 35, was a little old for stuffed animals.

  It made her dad feel useful, though, and that was what mattered.

  “Thanks for the supplies, Dad. Oh, and I’m going to be going to the bells concert tonight over at the Methodist Church.” She tried to slip it in there casually, as if it was no big deal, but of course, her dad wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

  “Are you going with someone in particular?”

  She shifted the heavy box to her other hip, trying to ignore the fact that she was 32 years old and having to report her dating activities to her father.

  This is why she could never move back in with her parents, no matter how poor she became.

  Also, why did she have to have this conversation while her father was hanging out above her in the ceiling? Her neck was really starting to cramp up. She rolled it side to side as she mumbled, “Austin Bishop.” She looked back up at her dad. “He was at the party. You’ve met him?”

  “Oh, the new extension agent? He took over after Mr. Snow retired. Nice kid.”

  Ivy did roll her eyes at that. Austin looked about her age, although she hadn’t actually quizzed him on the topic, but regardless, he was a little old to be referred to as a “kid.” But, her dad would always consider someone her age to be a child, no matter what.

  Something she was well aware of.

  “Well anyway, he invited me and I thought it’d be fun to go. Something to do to keep my mind off…things,” she ended vaguely, but her dad knew what she meant.

  That comment didn’t need any clarification. Not right now.

  He nodded. “Does this mean that you’re not going to be struck by a sudden headache right before the concert?”

  She gaped up at him in surprise. “Dad!” she choked out through her laughter and he just grinned down at her and shrugged.

  “Just because I’m your dad doesn’t mean I’m completely unobservant, despite what your teenage soul probably thought. Was it those two girls?”

  Ivy’s breath caught and she just stared at him, the laughter gone. He’d known? She’d tried so hard to hide all of that from her parents. Pride had demanded that she had. “Yeah,” she said softly.

  “I never knew what to do about them,” he admitted. “I wish I could’ve…” His voice trailed off into nothingness, and then he harrumphed his way back onto stable ground. Discussing feelings was never her father’s strong suit. “Well anyway, I need to find that teddy bear so I can drive to Boise before it gets too dark outside.” He disappeared from view, heading back into the depths of the attic.

  Ivy clutched the art supplies box to her chest, feeling a small smile spread across her face. Not having any access to art, except paper and pencil, had been one of t
he tougher parts about this visit to Idaho, and that was saying something. She hadn’t expected to be gone this long, or she would’ve figured out how to pack the supplies in, even if it’d meant leaving a pair of shoes behind or something.

  But now…

  She headed back into her bedroom and dropped the box on the bed, where she unsnapped the lockdown handles and pulled the lid off to stare down in wonderment. She’d been such a snob as a kid. She’d been so sure that she’d have amazing, top-quality art supplies when she went off to college, and as such, hadn’t packed any of her high school art supplies. She hadn’t wanted to taint her future by using inferior products.

  After paying rent and tuition and books, though, she’d quickly abandoned her lofty (read: snotty) dreams and went right back to using the same brands she always had. She’d learned that she didn’t need $50 paintbrushes to make a beautiful art piece.

  She pulled the items out one by one – the oils, the trays, the brushes, even a small unused canvas – and grinned to herself. She needed to do something while in Long Valley to keep herself sane. Other than go on pointless dates with handsome cowboys, of course.

  Hold on…

  Her hands froze over a well-worn eraser.

  Why is Austin asking me out on a date?

  Somehow, among everything else, Ivy hadn’t thought this through, but duh – Austin already had a girlfriend. Tiffany had made that very, very clear the night of her parent’s party. Although the irony of Austin cheating on Tiffany with Ivy would be rich indeed, Ivy wasn’t willing to be the third part of that triangle.

  Let Austin cheat on his girlfriend with some other unsuspecting soul. Ivy McLain wasn’t going to have anything to do with it.

  She felt the anger build up in her. Cheating, lying asshole. He deserved Tiffany. The pair would make each other very, very happy.

  She grabbed her cell phone, ready to dash off an angry text message, telling Austin that he could stuff this date where the sun didn’t shine, when she stopped, staring at her phone in frustration. Not only had she failed to realize that she was about to help Austin become a cheater, she’d also failed to get his number.

  Which meant she’d just have to wait to tell him off in person. Well good. And while she was at it, she could inform him of her thoughts about his taste in women. Which, aside from wanting to go on a date with her of course, was downright atrocious.

  “Hey Iv, I’m heading out,” her dad said at her bedroom door, holding up Iris’ beloved teddy bear as evidence of his success. “I’ll see you tomorrow – have fun at the concert, eh?”

  She nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. Her dad had enough to worry about. He didn’t need to worry about the fact that his daughter was going to miss yet another bells concert for yet another awful reason. His footsteps faded as he headed out.

  Ivy turned to face her bed again, and all of her art supplies. It was time to keep herself occupied. Too busy to think was exactly what she needed right now. She could face reality later.

  Chapter 6

  Austin

  Austin pulled up in front of the McLain house, his stomach strangely rumbly and unsettled. It wasn’t exactly happy about this state of affairs, and he stared down at it for a moment, unsure of what to attribute this case of nerves to. He was going on a date with Ivy to get Tiffany off his back. Ivy could exact revenge on Tiffany by going out with the one guy Tiffany had been gunning after for months. All would be well with the world.

  Feelings, or stomach linings for that matter, need not be involved.

  He jumped out of his truck and crunched through the snow, a few lackadaisical flakes still drifting down from the sky. The passing storm gave off the impression that it couldn’t be bothered to put on a real show, something that he wasn’t sure he blamed it for. It was cold. It was hard to do anything with much enthusiasm.

  He knocked on the door and then stood back, an expectant smile on his face. At least going to the Methodist Church could be done with great enthusiasm. He’d always loved Christmas music, so a whole concert, played by bells, dedicated to holiday tunes…it didn’t get much better than that. He was right on time, and if they left right away, he figured they’d be able to get great seats. It was going to be a fun ni—

  “You!” Ivy shouted angrily, even before she got the front door completely open. He stared at her, wide-eyed. She had paint streaked across her nose, a bit in her hair, and seemed to be in the process of spreading it around even more liberally as she shook her paintbrush at him. “How dare you!”

  She slammed the door in his face. He stared at it. She yanked it open. “I’m not letting you off that easy!” she announced angrily. “Get in here so I can yell at you proper, without letting all the warm air out.”

  He debated for a moment – he could just make a run for the truck. An irate Ivy wasn’t exactly a fun sight to behold, especially when that anger was directed at him, but he finally decided that the curiosity about why she was so angry would drive him crazy. He had to know.

  Then he’d make a run for the truck and never come back.

  Poor Declan. These McLain girls look sweet on the surface, but…

  He sidled past her and her wildly arcing paintbrush, and into the house. She slammed the door and rounded on him, shaking the brush with every step as she advanced towards him.

  “You asshole!” she said, her face roughly the same color as her hair. “You would take me out to the concert when you already have a girlfriend? I can’t believe you. Did you think that just because I’m from San Francisco, it’s okay to take me out for a night on the town and just hope that your girlfriend never hears about it? Well, even if you have atrocious taste in women, that’s on you, not me. I’m not going to help you be a cheater, Mr. I’m-Just-An-Aww-Shucks Cowboy. I’m not fooled by that…that…face!” She jabbed the paintbrush at him, almost whacking said face, and he darted out of range at just the last moment.

  They stared at each other, her breathing heavily as she glowered, and then…he couldn’t help it. He busted up laughing.

  “What are you laughing about?” she demanded, jamming her hands down onto her hips.

  He wiped the tears from his eyes. “You. The paintbrush.” He doubled over laughing again. He could see her tapping her foot on the floor out of the corner of his eye, obviously not impressed by his reaction. He took a few deep breaths and straightened up. She was angry, and he wasn’t helping matters by laughing. Although he imagined he’d remember the sight of Ivy swinging a paint brush around in the air, jabbing it like a rapier, for the rest of his life.

  “I’m guessing you’re talking about Tiffany?” he asked, once he’d managed to become serious again.

  She nodded, just once, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. He held his hands up beseechingly.

  “So I know what Tiffany made it seem like,” he said slowly, quietly. “The night of the party, right?” Ivy nodded again. “She and I are not a thing, no matter what she may think or hope for. We’ve gone on one date, and I haven’t been able to get rid of her since. I’m sorry she made you believe that I would be a cheater, but I promise, there’s nothing between us.”

  She stared at him, consideringly for a moment, and then inspiration struck. He grinned in triumph. “Hey, you like Declan, right?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes, he’s just an ass who left my sister fifteen years ago without explanation and broke her heart, something I had to help her get over.”

  Oh. That didn’t exactly go how he’d expected it to. Telling her that Declan would never be best friends with an asshole was not going to help his case.

  Time to change tactics.

  “Listen, I’m from up north – Coeur d’Alene, up in the panhandle. I moved here to become the extension agent, and I only knew Declan when I rolled into town. We’d been roommates for a year up at the U of I, and he was the one to suggest that I apply for the extension agent position when Mr. Snow retired.

  “Anyway, the first day I was in town, I met Tiffany down at th
e diner. She was my waitress. She asked me to hang out with her at the rodeo, I agreed, and she’s been clinging tighter to me than ivy growing up a brick wall ever since.” He studied her face for a moment, which was open and listening, but she hadn’t made a decision. Not yet.

  He drew in a deep breath. Here goes nothing. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up with Ivy, since it was hard to know how a girl would take news like this, but he only had one card left to play. It was time to play it and hope for the best. “Truthfully, I was thinking you might be up for helping me out with this. Declan mentioned that Tiffany and you didn’t exactly get along in high school.”

  Ivy’s pinched face at that comment told him all he needed to know. “So,” he continued urgently, “if you go to the concert with me, she’s really going to be upset. I figure, it’s great revenge, right?”

  Ivy continued to study his face for a moment, and then a small smile broke out on her face, which quickly spread into a huge grin. “That, sir, is a terrific idea. I like how you think!” She laughed, leaning forward and popping a quick kiss on his cheek. “I need to go get changed and ready. I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared up the hallway to what he assumed was her bedroom. He stared down the dark corridor, rubbing his cheek idly, the skin burning where her lips had touched.

  Well, he was right about one thing: A date with Ivy definitely wasn’t going to be boring.

  She soon reappeared, paint scrubbed clean from her face, clean clothes instead of paint-spattered ones. She’d put on a loose sweater that draped across her body, belted into place just below a very generous chest, with stretchy jeans disappearing into knee-high boots. He wished for a moment that he could get a better view of her ass, but decided, as he watched her swaying hips from behind as they headed to his truck, that it was probably for the best that he couldn’t. He needed to be decent for this trip to a church, no matter what his brain wanted.