by Kacey Linden
“Tess.” Cale greeted the woman with a nod, wondering whether there was any graceful way out of the questions that he knew were coming.
“Glad to see you here.” She walked over and bestowed a gentle hug. “I was hoping you’d feel more like celebrating this year.”
“Thanks,” he said blandly, “but this tree is for Marcia Dillon.”
“Oh.” Tess looked a little flustered, and pink stained her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that…”
“Tess, it’s okay,” he told her firmly. “I’m fine. We’re fine. You’re not responsible for what your sister did.”
“I know.” She sighed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “But I introduced you. I pushed you into going on that first date. If I hadn’t, maybe all of this”—she shrugged helplessly—“would never have happened.”
“We made our own choices, Tess,” he assured her. “Now, how are those nephews of yours?”
He could see her blink back tears as she glanced in the boys’ direction. “They’re okay, but they miss their mom. A lot. And my brother is still locking himself away from everyone and everything. He eats, he breathes, gets up, goes to work, but he’s not really himself. I don’t know what to do.”
Cale winced. He’d been friends with all of the Beckett siblings, up until he’d started dating Marissa, the youngest of the three. He and Finn had once been close, but when Finn’s wife died only a year ago, the oldest Beckett had closed himself off and refused to confide in anyone, even Cale.
Cale suspected Finn still blamed him for Marissa’s flight, but when Finn refused to talk to him, it was impossible to confront whatever misunderstandings the other man might be harboring.
“I’m sorry,” he told Tess, squeezing her arm. “I’m no counselor, but I truly think time is the only thing that helps. In the meantime, you’re doing a great job with the boys.”
“I don’t feel like it,” she confessed. “Why don’t you come with me, see if you can get Finn to open up a little?”
“I would,” he said, not entirely truthfully, “but I’m here with a friend and I need to get back to helping her pick out another tree.”
“A ‘friend’?” Tess echoed, eyes wide. “Cale Matthews, what are you not telling me?”
“Nothing,” he said hastily. “Her name is Willow, and she’s staying with Marcia. We’re here to pick out trees for the house.”
“Right.” Tess’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’ll take me over and introduce me?”
“Of course.” Cale was striving for nonchalance, but inwardly he cursed himself for not finding a way out of the introduction. Willow was going to kill him.
He followed Tess towards the sound of her nephews arguing and as soon as they reached the rows of trees, Willow darted out, her face lit up with enthusiasm.
“Cale, I found the second tree… oh.” She stopped and replaced her bright-eyed excitement with the careful mask she usually wore. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was interrupting. It can wait.”
“No, Willow, it’s fine.” He beckoned her over. “Willow, this is my friend Tess. Tess, Willow.”
“Hi.” Tess held out a hand.
Willow took it gingerly and shook it before shoving her hands back under her arms again.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Tess said earnestly. “Cale said you’re staying with Mrs. Dillon? Are you related to her?”
“No.” Willow glanced up at Cale, her eyes pleading with him to rescue her from making small talk with a stranger.
“Willow ended up stranded here when her car quit working,” Cale explained. “Marcia invited her to stay, and since it’s going to take a while to get the car fixed, they decided to decorate for Christmas.”
“That’s wonderful.” Tess smiled warmly. “It’ll be so good to see Marcia enjoying Christmas again this year. Do you have any other plans, Willow? Will you be missing your family Christmas somewhere?”
“No.” Willow shook her head, arms folded tightly and eyes on the ground. “No plans. I’ll be working at the coffee shop until I get my car fixed, and then I’ll be back on the road.”
“Well, hopefully we can have coffee together sometime,” Tess said. “I’d love to chat, and I’m sure it’s not easy being alone in a strange place during the holidays.”
“Thanks,” Willow said, but Cale could hear the doubt in her voice. “I’m sure that would be nice.”
“Well, it looks like you two were having fun, so I’ll leave you to it.” Tess flashed a confused smile at Cale that told him she would be asking more questions later. “See you around, Cale.”
As soon as she was out of sight, Willow turned on him with obvious apprehension. “I told you this was a mistake,” she muttered. “She’s going to give you grief about this later, isn’t she?”
“Probably,” Cale acknowledged, “but Tess is a friend. She won’t be spreading speculative theories all over town.” At Willow’s sharp look, he sighed and resigned himself to an explanation. “She’s Marissa’s sister, and she blames herself for setting us up on our first date. She’s been trying to make it up to me ever since.”
“Oh.” Willow shivered and eyed the toes of her boots. “Then did she think…” He could see her cheeks, already pink with cold, grow pinker.
“I don’t really care what she thought.” He took a step closer. “Willow, you’re only going to be here a few weeks. Would it bother you that much if people saw us together and accidentally got the wrong idea?” Did she really dislike him that much? As new as their acquaintance was, the thought stung more than he expected.
“I thought it would bother you,” she mumbled, looking up at him and catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re a respected member of the community and you have to live here after I’m gone. Why should you have to put up with a bunch of gossips assuming you were in an embarrassing relationship with some flaky woman who was just passing through?” The bitterness in her tone was a knife to Cale’s heart.
“Why would you assume it would be embarrassing?” he asked bluntly.
Her lips pinched together as though to hold back her answer. “I never dated in high school,” she forced out after a moment’s hesitation. “And I’ve only been on one date since, that my brother ruined when he showed up high, asking for money. I’ve never known any decent guys who would take a chance on the daughter of a drunk and the sister of an addict.”
“Then you’ve never known any decent guys, period,” he told her seriously. “Look, I don’t know you very well, but I do know that men who are worth your time won’t hold your family or your past against you.”
“But what about my present?” she said earnestly. “Look at me. I’m stuck in a place I don’t belong, depending on the charity of strangers just to stay alive. There are so many things you don’t know, things that would make you want to turn around, walk away and leave me in this parking lot if I was honest about them.”
For a moment, Cale was tempted to tell her that he knew. But then she would be the one to walk away and leave him in the parking lot. “Maybe you should let me be the judge of that,” he insisted instead.
“Oh right,” Willow retorted. “I should tell the town deputy everything about my sordid life.”
“Maybe you’re not in as much trouble as you think. Willow, those bruises you’re wearing tell me that whatever you’ve been through, someone made you afraid for your life. Anything you’ve done in self-defense is completely understandable.”
“It’s not that simple,” she said stubbornly.
She didn’t believe him. He could see her withdrawing again and made one last effort to reach her. “If you can’t tell me, at least consider telling Marcia. She’s the most trustworthy person I know, and she’ll know if there’s something we can do to help.”
“I’ll think about it,” was all Willow would say.
Clearly he’d pushed her enough. True, he’d learned that her brother was a drug addict, which would help in his investigation, but her w
ithdrawal still disappointed him on an entirely different level.
He wanted to help her. Wanted to wipe away that hunted look and replace it with joy and anticipation. Wanted her to experience Christmas without the fear of reprisals hanging over her head.
But he couldn’t. All he could do was wait for an opportunity to show her that there were people in the world who would offer love instead of rejection. Hope instead of pain.
He met her tentative gaze with a smile. “Shall we go get that second tree?”
Chapter 6
After her unfortunate outburst of honesty, Willow expected the remainder of the evening to be awkward, but it ended up being surprisingly enjoyable. After she and Cale returned with trees and a gorgeous pine wreath, the three of them shared a delicious dinner while Cale and Mrs. Dillon reminisced about Christmases past.
It made Willow wish just a tiny bit that she’d gotten to experience an Echo Creek Christmas tour. The idea of walking all over town, enjoying the festive atmosphere and hospitality with hundreds of other townspeople at dozens of different houses seemed oddly appealing.
“I’ve decided to pretend that we’re doing the tour again this year,” Mrs. Dillon announced as she cleared away the remains of dinner. “We’re going to decorate as if the whole town was coming to see it.”
“Then we’d better get to work,” Cale said with a laugh. “There’s about three miles of garland in those bins.”
While Mrs. Dillon turned on her favorite Christmas carols and started a pot of cider simmering on the stove, Cale and Willow pulled garland out of boxes and began testing lights. When they had enough to start with, Cale carried several armloads out onto the porch, and began hanging it from the eaves and the railing with nails, wire and zip ties, while Willow exchanged the blue chair cushions for red ones and added festive pillows. Mrs. Dillon brought out the wreath a few minutes later, after adding gold netting, berry sprigs and a red velvet bow.
“It’s gorgeous,” Willow told her honestly, wondering how on earth the other woman had transformed a simple circle of pine boughs into something so perfectly beautiful.
“Someone come tell me if these loops are even.” Cale was balanced precariously on the porch rail with a hammer in one hand and nails in his teeth. “Before I end up with an accidental tongue piercing.”
“Would serve you right for not using a ladder,” Mrs. Dillon scolded. “Willow, go look at the garland, would you, dear?”
Willow hastened off the porch and offered a thumbs up in response to Cale’s efforts. “It looks great,” she said. “At least in the dark it does. Can we plug in the lights and see if they’re working?”
“Sure thing.” Cale started to swing down from his perch, but was stopped short when his jacket caught on the corner post.
“Wait, you’re stuck, don’t move…” Willow started to say, but was interrupted by the sound of his jacket ripping.
The unexpected jolt jerked Cale off balance and he teetered for a moment, dropping the hammer and grabbing for the railing with both hands.
It was too late. Before Willow could do much more than utter a startled yelp, he toppled off the side of the porch and out of sight into the flower bed below.
“Cale!” She raced around the corner to where he’d landed on his back in one of the bushes. He wasn’t moving. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
When she heard a strange sound, she crept closer and bent over his prone form. Was he badly hurt? Was he even conscious?
Dropping to her knees, she placed a tentative hand on his arm and realized it was shaking. “Cale?” When he didn’t respond, she jerked her hand back. What if he was too angry to talk? She shuffled backwards, torn between wanting to know if he was hurt, and wanting to be out of his reach if he came up swinging.
Suddenly the strange sound grew louder and she realized in amazement that he was laughing.
“I think that was one of the most ungraceful moments of my life,” he gasped out once he’d stopped. “Please, swear you’ll never tell anyone.”
Willow was too confused to answer.
“Help me up?” He extended a hand and Willow moved forward automatically to take it.
She grasped his hand in both of hers, set her weight and pulled, but she never had a chance. He was too heavy, and he fell backwards into the flower bed again, laughing even harder than before.
Suddenly, she was laughing too. “Cale, you’ve got to stop. Seriously. I can’t pull you up unless you help me.”
Marcia’s worried face appeared over the edge of the porch rail above them. “What on earth is going on? Cale Matthews, didn’t I tell you to get a ladder?” She leaned farther. “Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride, Mrs. Dillon,” he reassured her. “Unless I swallowed a nail on my way down.”
He took a firmer grasp on Willow’s hand and, with her throwing every bit of her strength behind the effort, was finally able to extricate himself from the mud and the remains of a ruined evergreen shrub.
When he stood upright, the sudden shift in weight threw Willow off balance. She staggered backwards, until Cale reached out and caught her by the arm. They both teetered for a moment, ending up much too close for Willow’s comfort, his grip on her arm both comforting and unnerving. A jolt of awareness shot up her arm from where his fingers rested, causing her to pull back in surprise.
“I’m okay,” she said quickly. “Thanks for keeping me from falling in the mud.”
“Thanks for rescuing me from my own hubris,” he said, the flash of his smile visible in the edges of the porch light. “I should have been smart enough to get a ladder. Probably lucky I didn’t break my neck.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” she replied, forcing herself to breathe normally. “That would have spoiled Christmas for sure.”
A quick glance at his face turned into something else entirely when their eyes met and Willow saw his expression change from amused to serious to uncertain.
She stepped back again, heart pounding for no reason she could name. “We should get this finished. There’s still the whole inside to do,” she said, and walked away from him.
After Cale brought a ladder from the garage, they finished the front of the house swiftly and moved inside, but there proved to be far too much even for the three of them. After putting up and lighting both trees, hanging lights and garland from the bannister and assembling the Christmas village on the mantle, they agreed to call it a night.
“We’ll be able to finish over the next few days,” Mrs. Dillon assured Willow, “and then we’ll be over to help with yours, Cale.”
“My what?” he asked, looking startled.
“Your tree,” she insisted.
“I’m not sure that I actually need a tree,” he said, a picture of casual innocence. “I was thinking about just putting up some lights, since it’s just me and I’m not home that often…”
Willow glared at him from behind Mrs. Dillon’s back. “You promised,” she mouthed, eyes narrowed, and was rewarded by his laugh.
“Okay, you win.” He held up both hands in surrender. “I’ll pick one out soon and we’ll find a time to decorate it.”
“And this time, we’ll bring dinner.” Mrs. Dillon stood and began to collect empty cider mugs.
Cale turned to Willow as he retrieved his coat from the hall closet. “Are you looking forward to your first day of work tomorrow?”
A shiver of unease rolled through her. In the busy haze of the most enjoyable evening she could remember, she’d genuinely forgotten she was starting work early the next morning.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But I’ve had a similar job, so it shouldn’t be hard to learn. Rory seems like she won’t be too difficult to work for.”
“Aurora Ellis is one of the kindest, loveliest people I know,” Mrs. Dillon insisted. “You’re going to love working for her. Plus, it will give you the chance to meet a lot of new people and make some friends around town.”
Willow felt something inside her shriv
el up at the thought. She didn’t care to meet hundreds of people. They would only want to ask prying questions, or stare at her when they didn’t think she was looking, or try to meddle in her life with what they called good intentions but was really just boredom and a dislike for dealing with their own problems.
“Rory isn’t going to insist that you make small talk, or be best friends with the customers,” Cale said, apparently having guessed exactly what might be worrying her. “And she’ll totally understand your desire for privacy.”
“Unlike other people I know?”
“Touché,” he responded with a grin. “But since I have excellent intentions, am I forgiven?”
Willow rolled her eyes, slightly shocked that she felt comfortable enough to do so. “You’re forgiven, if you help me start looking for a car soon. I’ve been thinking about your suggestion of buying one instead of having Marty put time and work into the Corolla, so I need to know what kind of cost I’m aiming for.”
“Consider it done,” Cale promised. “I’ll put together a list of what’s available locally, and maybe check to see what I can find in Bend.”
“Thank you,” Willow said earnestly. “And thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
Their eyes caught again, and Cale nodded, with unmistakable warmth and sincerity.
“You’re always welcome.” He turned to Mrs. Dillon. “I’ll call you when I have a tree. It’ll probably be a few more days, but I’m sure the two of you will have no trouble filling up the time by going through all of these boxes and making this place look amazing.”
“Don’t think you can get out of this,” Marcia called after him as he headed towards the front door and opened it. “We are decorating your house sooner or later.”
“Do I look like a flake?” he responded innocently, leaning back around the door.
“You look like a man in full retreat,” she retorted. “But merry Christmas anyway!”
He gave one last wave and closed the door behind him.
Cale got into his truck and drove off, but he didn’t go home. Instead, he headed downtown to his office where he pulled up the file he was building on Elliot Renner. The fact that Willow’s brother was into drugs added an interesting angle to the case, and it would definitely play in Willow’s favor if they ended up charging him with assault. It would help if they had more information, though. She’d claimed that whoever hit her had never done it before, so what was behind her deeper fears? Had he blackmailed her into helping with his drug habit? Worse, was he dealing to support it?
