The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride

by Kimberly Krey

  Chapter 18

  “Okay …” Maddie strode purposefully down the hall and back into her brightly lit kitchen, where April and Mom were busy at work. “We’ve been invited to join Bear and his family for dinner at his place,” she announced.

  April stopped mid-chop, leaving a sharp knife wedged in an onion. “Your stovetop works all right, doesn’t it? I’m fine if we don’t have turkey. Let’s just stay here and do everything but the bird.”

  “Absolutely not,” her mom, Claudia, said, a bag of frozen rolls in her hand. She tossed them into the freezer. “We can go to his house. Tell him thank you for the offer and that we’ll plan on it.”

  “Okay.” No need to tell them she’d already accepted.

  April rolled her eyes. “Yay, let’s go meet Maddie’s new boyfriend, and eat with his family even though we’ve never even met. Sounds fun.”

  Maddie fought back a laugh. There was no telling how this would go. “You went to school with Brenda, didn’t you?” When April only sighed, Maddie glanced over the kitchen. “Let’s just pack up everything but the turkey and take it with us.” She pulled open the fridge and began unloading some of the cold foods and desserts.

  “Wait,” April said. “None of us are ready.”

  Maddie slid a cream pie onto the counter and set her eyes on April, then her mother. The two had come in on a late flight last night. Velcro rollers topped Mom’s head, while April donned that day-old-hair-and-makeup look. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s hurry and get ready. We’ll leave in thirty minutes.” Maddie didn’t mind having a little time to freshen up either. May as well look her best.

  But just how in the world would this dinner go? So far April and Mom had been pleasant enough. Sure, they’d kept their noses buried in the tabloids for half of the morning before offering to help with the food, but Maddie hadn’t minded much. They were her guests, after all.

  The only thing that had bothered her was a reference to Kristen Grandy. It was the same article Will referred to, which meant they hadn’t caught Maddie off guard. Still, a rather large regret rose to the surface as she entertained ideas of having the man-haters in the same room with Bear: She hadn’t asked him about Kristen yet. Why hadn’t she just asked him about her?

  Because she trusted him. Because she’d investigated things for herself and was satisfied that he wasn’t hiding anything. Because she trusted his mom and his sister and knew they wouldn’t let her be played as a fool. Maddie breathed easier then, the list satisfying her once more. Her mom and April could try to pop her balloon all they wanted, but Bear Schaefer had nothing to hide.

  “Well, I have to say,” Grace said, lifting a wineglass toward the center of the table, “I’m very glad you ladies were able to join us today. It has been an absolute pleasure.”

  “Likewise,” Claudia said. “It was very generous of you to let us crash in on you last minute.”

  Maddie eyed their surroundings as gratitude filled her heart. She was glad her oven had gone out when it did. If she was due for a new one regardless, at least its timely death had served them well. All of them.

  “Here’s to the women outnumbering the men on this fine day,” Claudia said.

  That evoked a round of laughter as glasses clanked.

  “That’s true,” Bear said. “It’s just me and Phillip and he’s sound asleep.”

  Brenda and April had been chatting since they’d arrived. Maddie was thrilled to discover the two did in fact remember each other from school. April was smitten with Phillip, who’d clung to her side until he went down for his nap.

  “Well, is anyone ready for pie?” Grace asked. “I know I’m not there yet, but …”

  “No,” Brenda agreed, “I won’t be ready for another seven days or so.”

  April laughed. “No doubt.”

  Brenda leaned far over to eye the pies on the counter. “But those do look good. Maybe I just need another thirty minutes.”

  Bear chuckled. “We’ve got all night,” he said. “No pressure at all.”

  Grace and Claudia began clearing the table, and Maddie followed suit. Bear stood up as well, but Grace shook her head. “No, no. You and Maddie go and enjoy the Christmas tree. Brenda and I can do this.”

  “Actually,” Claudia said, “Why don’t I help out and we let April and Brenda chat too?”

  “Wow, this looks even better than I remembered,” Maddie said as Bear led her to the front room. The bright, glowing tree, centered before a large window, was an incredible sight. The vaulted ceilings in Bear’s home allowed for a much taller tree than hers, and it suited him well. Maddie had loved helping him find the perfect ornaments. Visiting some of her favorite shops. Top’s Bakery for a warm, gooey cinnamon roll. Frank and Signs for the copper handcrafted snowflakes. And the produce for some fresh cranberries. Main Street was like a dream in the winter. Hanging lights all over town, a warm, golden contrast to the flakey mounds of snow. Which reminded her—it was time for Christmas shopping.

  “I’m heading up to the Country Quilt Inn tomorrow,” she said. “Want to come?”

  The two took a seat—face-to-face—on the oversized couch. The piece stood adjacent from the tree, allowing them to bask in the glow of it with the rest of the lights out.

  Bear lifted a brow. “Are you asking me to spend the night with you at the bed and breakfast?”

  She laughed. “No, I just want to get my mom and April new quilts from the gift shop. You could get some for Grace and Brenda too. They’re like … the perfect gift.”

  “I’d like that,” he said, taking her hand in his. He lifted it, observed the back of her hand while running a finger along her knuckles. Up and back. Maddie closed her eyes to take in the feel of it.

  “You’re lucky your knuckles aren’t swollen, with as much as you pop them.” He chuckled under his breath, and Maddie’s eyes flicked open.

  “You’ve never said anything to me about that.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t want you to think I minded,” he said. “I just figured with as often as you do it you’d have ogre hands or something. But between yours and mine, I’d say I’m a lot closer to that definition.”

  “Yeah,” Maddie agreed. She watched as he turned her hand over and ran his fingertips along her palm next. Bear did have large hands; there was no denying it. But they were nice hands. So strong, yet incredibly gentle. Her eyes shut once more as she tuned in to the glorious feel of his skin on hers.

  “Maddie?” he asked, voice sounding hoarse.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m …” He paused there, and Maddie fought the urge to open her eyes. She kept them closed, though, tuning in to the sensation as he moved her palm to his mouth. Kissed it fervently. He ran his parted lips over the skin. “I love you.”

  Those three words, whispered softly against her palm, made Maddie’s hopes soar sky-high. It was no longer a regular balloon that carried those hopes, but a blimp as wide and large and high as the blimps they’d seen during the Thanksgiving parade.

  Her eyes flicked open, and Bear met her gaze. She saw it there too—that same hope. A daring kind of hope. Warm and vibrant.

  Maddie smiled as emotion and excitement roared within her. She could be daring too, couldn’t she? Sure, it hadn’t been long, but Maddie knew she could sincerely say it in return. “I love you too,” she said, and then leaned in to accept his kiss.

  Chapter 19

  “No, no, what about the time April had to square-dance with George Comwart and he actually had a wart on his hand?” Claudia burst into laughter after sharing the memory.

  “Oh,” Maddie sighed. “That’s the worst. That was really his last name?”

  “I know!” April cried. “His parents should have at least covered it with a Band-Aid.”

  “Totally.” Maddie glanced over the large carpet picnic they’d spread out in her front room. Food, a fireplace, and lots of memories made for a girls’ night like Maddie had never imagined. Not with family, anyway. After all the ache and prayers
over her strained relationships, Maddie couldn’t help but recognize the moment as a rare gift.

  “I really love these things,” April said, holding up a chocolate-covered orange stick. “I used to hate biting the insides. I’d just suck all the chocolate off and spit out the center.”

  Claudia laughed. “You thought it was bitter.”

  “Yeah,” April said. “But last year, when you bought a whole bunch on clearance, I decided to try the candy inside and see if I liked it, since I was older. And I couldn’t believe it. I bit into it, and realized that the flavor wasn’t bad at all. I actually really liked it.”

  “It’s funny how that works,” Maddie said, eyeing the bowl of green olives on the tray with crackers and cheese. “I used to feel the same way about these things.” She grabbed one from the bowl and popped it in her mouth.

  “I had the opposite experience,” Claudia said. “Only it wasn’t with food. It was with your dad.” She took a sip from her wineglass and rested it back on the nearby tray.

  Talk about a mood nosedive. They’d heard Mom rehash the story a million times. Like living through it the first time hadn’t been enough.

  April gave Maddie an apologetic look.

  Maddie did an eye roll, but couldn’t help but think of how April didn’t seem quite as jaded as she normally did.

  “Greg Collins was a man that I … I just couldn’t get enough of. Charismatic, gorgeous, fun to be around. I was crazy about him. And believe it or not, he was wild about me too.” Their mother shook her head, took another sip from her glass. “All the other girls wanted him, I’m telling you. They wanted him, but he wanted me.

  “So we get married. Have kids. I try to be the perfect wife, the perfect mom. I buy the foods he likes and watch the sports he likes and even make the dang bed the way he likes, even though it drives me crazy to have the sheets tucked so tight. And what does he do in return? He finds another woman and walks away. Just walks right away.”

  Claudia glanced at April, then Maddie, who gave her a sympathetic nod.

  “But what are you going to say for him?” her mom said, her voice softening now. “No one has anything to say for him.”

  “Well, at least you’ve moved on and had a good life without him,” April said. “Who cares about Dad?” She gave Maddie a look. “Right?”

  Maddie nodded. “Totally. Who cares about him? He’s not even a part of our lives anymore.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Claudia said, accusation strong on her tone. “One of you girls decided to keep his last name. One of you is connected with him on social media. And one of you used to beg me to call and find out where he was and what he was doing and if he was coming to visit.”

  Maddie could hardly believe her ears. This was why her mother was so jaded? “He’s my father,” she said. “You couldn’t expect me to just stop loving him.”

  “I expected you to have a little loyalty for the one parent who stuck around to raise you,” Claudia snapped. Her chin quivered.

  Maddie kept her eyes on her as an odd cloud seemed to clear. A cloud that had allowed Maddie to snap back with the same rebuttal all those years. No more comebacks, an inner voice spoke. Mom’s hurt. She needs something.

  And Maddie had a feeling she knew what it was. Since her dad left, Maddie hadn’t been able to admit that Claudia had suffered as much as she and April had. She hadn’t been able to come out and say that what Mom had done was hard. And appreciated.

  Perhaps she hadn’t believed it. But Maddie could see it now. Undoubtedly. “I’m grateful to you for that,” she said. “I really am. I was probably just too blind to see it back then. I just wanted my dad back.”

  “I wanted him too, Maddie. Don’t you get that?” Claudia’s shoulders curled as she buried her face in her hands. “I wanted him too.”

  Maddie’s heart ached for the pain she heard in those words. In those tears. She hurried over to sit by her side and rubbed a hand over her back, the fabric warm from the fire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand back then.”

  April wiped tears off her cheeks. “We were just kids.”

  Maddie had not expected such a strange twist to their evening. One minute they were toasting to a beautiful Thanksgiving Day, the next they were knee-deep in a decade-old issue. But she was glad it had come up. It seemed as if they could finally make some progress now. Start on the journey to healing their relationship.

  “Well,” Claudia said, wiping her face with a sniff. “There’s a reason I brought all of this up, mainly so you’d know that … well, you weren’t alone.”

  “Alone?”

  “Mom, don’t.” April shook her head.

  Maddie pulled in a shallow breath. “What is it?”

  A long look passed between her mom and April. Something in her sister’s face put fear back into her heart. Like the time she’d typed Bear’s name into an internet search.

  April shook her head. “Probably nothing.”

  “Just show me.” Maddie’s voice was getting weaker, her head feeling lighter.

  “April …” Claudia urged, though Maddie saw something new in her eyes too. Hesitancy. Before Maddie knew it, her mother had shifted roles, placing her hand on Maddie’s back now.

  April pulled the phone from her pocket and began to tap and swipe.

  Dread grew deep in Maddie’s chest. This would be the sharp prick, wouldn’t it—the needle to her rising hopes?

  “Here,” April said, handing over her phone. “Kristen posted a live video this morning.”

  Maddie gulped the dryness from her tight throat, and focused in on the screen.

  Kristen Grandy came onto the screen, eyes red, mascara running down her face. She held up an old photograph of her and Bear when they were teenagers. She filled the screen with it, then pulled it back. “I’ve had so many girls write me for advice about breakups. Questions like: How do you handle a bad breakup? How can I get over this guy I like? And honestly, I’ve always been like, just get over it. Hello, how hard can it be? It’s just one dumb guy. Move onto the next.”

  She sniffed, smeared some tears off her face, and held up another picture. “This is Bear Schaefer. Some of you might know him as Big Daddy’s Lumberjack. Well, he and I have been dating for a while, but suddenly, out of nowhere, he broke things off. Just like that. When, you ask? Less than a week before Thanksgiving. Who does that? One week before Thanksgiving Day? The worst part is that he flew out here, spent the night with me in a hotel, and then said it was over.” Kristen yanked a Kleenex out of a box on her lap, and the screen went black.

  April tucked the phone back into her pocket. Regret—it was written all over her face. “I’m so sorry, Maddie. He seemed like a really great guy.” She wiped at a tear.

  Something was pressing in on Maddie’s chest, making it hard to breathe. The room was collapsing, perhaps. The glowing tree, the burning fire, the sofas at either side, all of it grew larger and closer as Maddie shrunk and fought and ached.

  “I don’t think that’s true,” she breathed. “The video. It’s a lie.”

  Claudia lifted her chin in the dull light, eyeing her expectantly. That expression. Maddie had seen it before. Spoken to it.

  I know Dad’s coming, she remembered saying while waiting on the porch. The layers she’d worn hadn’t kept her warm that day. A defiant teen, unwilling to admit that her father had lied. That her father had left. That her father didn’t love her so much after all.

  “I’m so sorry, hon,” Claudia said, turning her face back to the fire. “Wish he was as great as you thought he was. Looks like he isn’t.”

  She’d heard those words before too. Hadn’t wanted to accept them then either.

  “I need to be alone now, okay?” Maddie wasn’t sure how she’d mustered the words, but she had.

  The walk to her room was a blur. The doorknob against her fingers and palm felt fuzzy and fake. Maddie climbed onto her bed in the dark, feeling as if she were back in her old canopy bed with the battered quilt Grand
ma made, the cedar chest at the foot of it filled with things like pom-poms and photo albums and journals with dreams that might never come true.

  She pulled a pillow against her chest and clenched her eyes shut. Please let this be a dream. Please don’t let this be real. Please just make all of this go away.

  Chapter 20

  Maddie stared down at her airline ticket until the words Spokane, Washington became a mesh of blurry letters. Three different people at the airport had told her how lucky she was to get the last-minute ticket on the busiest travel day of the year. But she didn’t feel lucky at all.

  She shifted her gaze to the wall of windows, where men on the tarmac piled luggage onto a conveyer belt. In her mind, she was back in April’s room, the two sitting on the carpeted window seat. Maddie wiped the tears from her sister’s face. I’m sure everything’s fine. Mom and Dad fight sometimes. Lots of moms and dads do.

  Yeah, lots of them get divorced too.

  “You doing all right?” April asked, pulling Maddie from her musings.

  She shook her head. “I just hate that I’m running away. I should have confronted him.”

  “You still can,” April said. “Why don’t you just call him?”

  Her cell phone was tucked just inside her purse. It would be easy enough.

  “Yeah,” Claudia said. “Call him up crying. Make a fool of yourself. Be my guest. But if I were you, I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.” She called to an older lady standing in the waiting area. “You can come sit here, ma’am.” Mom moved her carry-on off the seat and onto her lap, before turning back to Maddie. “You’re in denial right now, hon. I went through the same thing. Everybody goes through the same thing. We put our men on a pedestal.”

  Maddie nodded, remembering the time she’d told Emma, her roommate in college, that she’d seen her boyfriend making out with another girl at a party. Emma didn’t believe her. In fact, Maddie had become the target of her anger for even mentioning it. Of course she discovered the truth eventually.