by Cate Masters
“Do you recognize them?”
She fingered an ornament nestled within the branches, a red pickup with a tiny Christmas tree in its bed. “This looks like your dad’s.” The truck they’d spent so many nights kissing in, steaming up the windows.
He gestured to a tiny pair of ice skates. “These reminded me of teaching you how to skate at the pond.”
“Oh, my gosh, it’s the gazebo.” Edged in tiny lights, it held a sleigh full of gifts, the same as the one in Bliss did.
“How about this one?” He touched a replica of a park bench.
“You first kissed me on a park bench when we were sixteen. These are wonderful. Where did you find them?”
“Do you remember Sally Radcliffe? She was a year behind us in school. She owns a little Christmas shop in town and makes most of these herself.”
“Thank you.” It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done.
“So you like it?”
She could hardly manage to say, “I love it.”
“I love you, Sierra.”
The way he said it, so full of emotion and yet so casually, as if he told her every day, stole her breath. “Carter.”
“I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
Her throat thickened. She couldn’t trust herself to speak without bursting into tears. She also couldn’t trust her heart, especially after the newspaper article. If Carter lied, how would she know? And if he lied about that, what else would he lie about?
He searched her face before kissing her cheek then backed away. “Guess I better go. I have to make another trip out of town. I’ll be back, but it might not be until after Christmas.”
Head still clouded from the cold medicine, she simply watched him go out the door. Not until his car sped away did she realize she hadn’t said I love you back to him. But did she? Or was she simply reliving the past because it had been so wonderful? She still couldn’t shake Ted’s nagging voice, You really had Carter bamboozled, didn’t you? Then his gaze had crawled over her, the disgust plain on his face, and the triumph—in having figured her out, exposed her for the fraud she was.
A tear crept down her cheek as she curled up on the sofa. No, her husband had never physically brutalized her. His verbal injuries could never be seen by anyone else. And lasted longer. So many times, he’d told her, you’re nothing without me. She’d begun to believe it. His sudden death left her reeling, uncertain whether she could survive. Week by week, month by month, it became clearer. She could get by. But not there, in the house they’d shared.
She stared at the tree. Each ornament evoked a different memory. Each one renewed the joy that used to envelop her every time she saw Carter. The happiness that had shone in his face when he’d looked at her. God, how she’d missed that. And how she’d cursed him for taking that away from her.
But he was back, offering the same joy, along with the threat of the same devastating heartbreak. Could she stand another breakup like that? It might leave her bitter about men and relationships for so long, she’d never trust another guy again. Yet despite her best efforts to discourage him, he’d stayed.
Well, except for the business trips. So why did she believe him when he said he’d come back again? Why leave right before the holidays?
The chime of her cell phone drew her to the table where she’d left her purse. Rosalie’s name appeared in the display. She croaked, “Hey, stranger.”
“How are you?” asked Rosalie. “You sound awful.”
“I’m actually better, thanks to my Mom’s soup. And Carter.”
“Carter’s there?”
“No, he had to go. But he brought me a Christmas tree and all sorts of decorations.” So incredibly thoughtful. She still couldn’t believe it. And still didn’t know whether she could believe him.
“So what’s wrong?”
She wandered back to the tree and fingered the gazebo ornament. “Nothing. I can’t explain.”
“You’re confused?”
Huddling against a corner of the sofa, she said, “To put it mildly.” He’d told her he loved her—and her mind had blanked? She couldn’t blame the cold medicine entirely.
“He loves you, sweetie.”
She gripped the cell more tightly. “Did he tell you that?”
“Well….”
What the heck was going on? “I smell a conspiracy.”
A pause. “I can’t tell you anything more. Carter will.”
So she hadn’t imagined Rosalie’s evasiveness. She sighed. “Now I’m even more confused.”
“Sorry. Do you need anything? More soup?”
A clue would be nice, but the subject appeared to be closed. “No, Mom sent enough soup for the next week.”
“Okay, but remember I’m a phone call away. Feel better, hon.”
“I will. Thanks.”
The cell went dim. She set the phone atop the coffee table. A phone call away—everyone was at least that distant, but it felt more like thousands of miles.
“Two thousand miles,” she sang scratchily. Was that how far away Carter would be for Christmas? Why did it bother her so much that he’d left?
Drawn to the tree again, she rose and tightened her robe around her. The tiny red pickup, the skates, the gazebo…each ornament evoked so many memories.
From the recesses of her memory, another scene pushed forward, one she’d refused to acknowledge for ten years. After months of missing him when he’d left for college, she and Carter had had a nasty fight, and she’d said things she hadn’t meant. He’d called from Princeton, ready to talk it over, work it out. But they both had more than three years of college ahead of them.
I don’t know what else to do, he’d said.
Neither do I, she’d answered. That’s the problem.
Why hadn’t she believed they could make it work? Her feelings hadn’t changed, but Carter kept so busy with school, always talking about the business he planned. Somehow, she hadn’t been able to see herself in his future, and she’d written him off without really giving him a chance. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.
Where was the blue moon Oren had always talked about when she really needed one?
***
Another hotel room. Carter could live without seeing one for a very long time. It had never bothered him before to travel close to the holidays, but he grew homesick at seeing the oversized, elaborately decorated tree in the lobby. His heart had stayed behind in Bliss and he wanted nothing more than to return. Be with Sierra. Make things right so they could move forward.
Less than a week before Christmas. He had so much to do before then.
His cell chimed.
“Grove. Yes, I’m finally here, Carl. I’ll be there in about an hour. Right.” He disconnected and tossed the phone onto the king-sized bed. For an instant, he pictured her there, smiling at him sweet and inviting, the way she used to. An ache swelled in his heart. Yeah, he definitely could stand a hotel stay with her in bed. Say, in Belize.
A thought froze him. “Steve.” He needed to set up a meeting with the attorney. And his own lawyer. Freaking Barbara and her over-the-top demands. She wanted the house, the vacation house she’d bought without his approval, and half his company. Tempting just to give it all to her to get rid of her, except for the business. Too many years of loving care had gone into building it. Work, she knew little about. Taking, she knew all too well.
He shot off a text to Steve. After a quick shower, he raided his luggage for clothes. The damn suit. Rumpled, and no time to steam it. He’d go with the jeans and sweater. He’d grown used to the feel of them. And the running shoes, too. With any luck, he could use them to sprint through the mess waiting for him, then back to the airport. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be quite so easy though.
As he walked to the hotel parking garage, his cell never stopped buzzing with new text messages. He found the rental car. A compact. Hell, even the car reminded him of Sierra.
From his vantage point on the free
way he spotted the Grove Inc. logo, standing out despite its simplicity—a stylized orchard in full bloom. Like Apple, Carter had wanted consumers to recognize the design without any label attached, and they had. It still gave him a thrill to glimpse it on office computers and, in the past few years, the company had expanded to devices such as electronic tablets, cell phones, and whatever new gadget helped propel technology into a more useful integration with people’s daily lives. The bigger thrill came from proving the naysayers wrong.
He stepped off the elevator to the third floor and nodded to the receptionist as he strode past the desk.
“Sir, do you have an appoint….” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! Mr. Grove?”
He ignored her stare and kept walking. “Morning, Carmen. You’re looking well.”
“So…do…you.”
Her voice trailed him down the hall to the conference room. He thrust open the door and aimed for the sweet scent of coffee. “Sorry I’m late.”
Silence. Mug in hand, he peered over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”
Carl, Erica, and Manuel gaped at him.
He raised his eyebrows, finished pouring, and joined them at the round table. “Fill me in. What did I miss?”
“Um….” Carl glanced at the others. “What did we miss?”
“Come again?”
With an expression of concern, Erica leaned over the table. “Are you ill?” She pointedly scanned his outfit.
Yes, Carter had broken his own protocol by showing up in casual dress. From the beginning, he’d insisted on formal wear to set the company apart.
Stupid notion. Their products had nothing to do with how the employees dressed. Time to make some changes on that front as well.
“Not yet, but the possibility looms the closer we get to the end of the year. So let’s get down to business, shall we? Carl, you start.”
They straightened notepads, cleared throats, and the focus turned to Carl, who launched into discussion without further ado.
By the end of the day, it became clear the trip would last more than a few days. At the end of the week, he wondered if they’d pull it off at all.
Intense back and forth with his employees filled day after day. Carter remained aware of the dates as each ticked by, blurred by more than a few all-nighters. His cell died again so he had to try calling Sierra from his office. The first few nights, he remembered too late—it would have been after midnight on the East coast. He made a conscious effort to break from the group earlier in the day, but had to leave a message on her answering machine. Wish she had a cell; it would make things a lot easier. He understood she couldn’t afford one, but he’d have to convince her of the value for her own business. And so they wouldn’t lose touch.
On Christmas Eve, he thought sure he’d be able to reach her but it became another day of phone tag. So tired he could hardly think straight, he left one final voice mail telling her he’d call the next day at two in the afternoon, her time. “I hope we get to talk. I miss you.”
No sooner had he hung up than Carl burst in. “Unbelievable, but FlickKing e-mailed. Somehow they caught wind of this mess, and they’re threatening to bail.”
“No way.” FlickKing had promised exclusive deals for customers who purchased the new device. “Get me the CEO’s name and number, will you? I’ll smooth things with him.” If he could reach him over the holiday. Christ, if anything else went south, he’d have to stay even longer to patch these holes.
After an extremely unrestful sleep on the sofa in his office, Carter added extra scoops of coffee so it brewed nice and strong. He’d spent a small fortune arranging for catered meals, but the Christmas brunch won more praise than usual. Afterward, he sent them home for the rest of the day. “Your families need you. I’m not Scrooge, after all.”
Citing their current lack of significant others, Carl, Erica, and Manuel stayed. The core team. Carter wanted to hug them. With any luck, no distractions and throw in a Christmas miracle, they might be able to tackle the bulk of it. They fell so deep into it, two o’clock slipped past.
Erica rose. “I’m making more coffee before I pass out.”
Stretching in his chair, he happened to glance at the time and nearly fell backward. “Shit, it’s after two.”
Manuel winced. “Um, that happened awhile ago.”
Even later than that back home. Carter bolted for his office, grabbed the phone and dialed Sierra’s number. After the fourth ring, the machine picked up. She didn’t wait. Or had deliberately left.
Carter squeezed his eyes shut at the beep. “Hey, Sierra. Guess it’s not a very merry Christmas.” It should have been their first one together again. One they’d waited ten years for. “I know it’s the same old excuse, but we’re slogging through here.”
His eyes popped open at another click.
“Carter, I caught you.”
“You’re there.”
“’Course I’m here. I ran to the bathroom. Not fast enough, though. So you’re still working in San Diego?”
“Yes, but we’ve smoothed out most of the rough patches.”
“So you’re almost done?”
He hated to jinx it by declaring a win. “I’m hopeful.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Sure.”
“Did you have a good Christmas?”
“It would have been nicer if you were here.”
“I’m trying. Really hard.”
“I know. I just....”
Damn it. He couldn’t lose her now. “Try to be a little patient.”
“I’m waiting as patiently as I can. I don’t know what else to do.”
The conversation had a familiar ring. In college, he’d said the same thing to her. Right before they broke up. Her response had been: Neither do I. That’s the problem. And then he’d lost her. He wasn’t about to lose her again. “I’m coming home for you, Sierra. As soon as I can. And things will be different when I do.”
“Sorry you’re having a bad time.”
“I’m sorry I’m not with you. But I think of you every minute. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too.”
She’d softened a bit, anyway. He had so much to tell her but if he tried to express his emotions, it would all spill out in a jumbled mess. At the moment, his heart functioned better than his brain. “I better get back. I’ll call tomorrow, all right?”
“I’ll be at the shop and at my parents’ afterward. We still have a lot to do before the Winter Festival.”
“Right, the festival.” He’d screwed up the holiday. He couldn’t miss the festival. “I’m going to try like hell to be there.”
“Either way, I’ll be waiting.”
A simple promise, but so important. It gave him another chance to make things right with her. “I’m counting on it.” He wanted so badly to tell her again that he loved her, but it might be pushing things. She hadn’t responded last time. Maybe she wasn’t ready.
He was sure as hell ready—to get the hell out of there and fly home. Hearing that she’d be waiting gave him a new surge of energy. He came out of his office renewed, eager to wrestle with their remaining problems.
What he didn’t count on was that it would take another three days. Finally, they’d smoothed out all the kinks, all the glitches. The product was ready for rollout, as scheduled. If Carter’s guess proved correct, consumers would line up days in advance, as they had for Grove’s others.
Time to wrap up here. Not before he’d shown his employees the proper gratitude. “Anyone free for dinner tonight? It’s on me.”
“Hell, yeah,” Carl said.
“Of course,” Manuel nodded.
“Love to.” Erica grinned. “Where are you taking us? Someplace fancy, I hope.”
“You pick the place and I’ll meet you there, say six thirty? I need a shower first.”
Carl cocked his head. “And some new clothes?”
With a laugh, Carter nodded. “Abou
t that. I hereby rescind the formal dress policy. So long as no one shows too much skin, feel free to go casual.”
“No shit.” Erica slumped back in her chair. “What the hell’s in the water back East?”
It’s not the water. Carter grinned and rose into a stretch. “Text me the restaurant you decide on.” On his way out, he stopped at the reception desk. “Did you finalize the details like I asked, Carmen?”
“Yes, sir. The caterers will bring the holiday lunch tomorrow morning. I have the memo ready to go.”
“Great. Send it, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” No one could label the holiday party as religion-biased since it fell after Christmas. And certainly no one would argue with the annual bonuses he planned. Well deserved, after they’d volunteered to sacrifice the holidays to handle the unexpected crisis. He owed them big time.
And later, he’d discuss the sale of the company. Carl deserved the first shot at it. And Carter would invest in more stock to see him through until he figured out his next business venture. His time in California brought back memories of how much he loved hands-on development. Exhausting, sometimes, but exhilarating. It might be a little rocky starting something new, but exciting too.
He whistled on the way to the car, hummed on the stop at the menswear store, and even did a little dance step onto the elevator at the hotel. Last night in San Diego. Hallelujah.
He’d have preferred a return flight that day, but the following evening would have to do. He’d be home the day before New Year’s.
Bliss, here I come. In more ways than one.
Chapter Seven
December 31
Except for the years she’d lived out of town, Sierra always looked forward to the Bliss Winter Festival. Helping her parents work the booth located on the gazebo in the center of the lake, she never minded the frigid cold while providing hot drinks to skaters. Tonight, the immense full moon hung so low and bright, they hardly needed the spotlights shining out on the ice.
Apparently, the entire population of Bliss had turned out for the event. Not unusual, though she sought out Carter’s face among them. Parents pulled children in sleds, couples skated hand-in-hand, teens glided in groups. In the high-school-aged ones, she saw a young Carter and herself, aglow with moonlight and love.
