by Kacey Linden
He simply saw Willow—bruised, but not broken. Quiet, but strong. Shy, but observant. After his visit to Seattle, he had a little better idea what she’d been through and her courage and resiliency astounded him.
But he didn’t dare say anything to her about these revelations, or make any moves that might frighten her. Friendship was what she offered, and friendship was all he could have. Even if he had just come to the startling realization that it might not be the only thing he wanted.
“I’m innocent,” he announced, brushing aside this distracting discovery until he had a chance to examine it more closely. “Just ask Mrs. Dillon.”
“I think I might have to ask your Uncle Pete,” she suggested instead. “I bet he would tell me the truth.”
“Uncle Pete? You’ve met him?”
Willow nodded and rolled her eyes. “He came into the coffee shop yesterday. Cale, I think your uncle is worse than Mrs. Dillon.”
“You have no idea,” Cale told her grimly, taking a seat on the floor only a few feet away from her. “He’s been meddling in my life ever since I moved here. I love him, but I wish he’d find someone else to torment with his good intentions.”
“He insisted I come to pinochle night,” Willow confessed. “But I’m not sure that would be a great idea. I’m not interested in meeting the whole town, or being the subject of gossip and misguided matchmaking attempts.”
“Well, there will be gossip no matter what you do,” Cale reminded her with a shrug. “This is a small town, so that’s inevitable. If you show up, at least the gossip will have some basis in fact.”
She shot him a withering glare. “That’s a terrible argument and you know it.”
“It’s actually fun,” he told her, not sure why he was trying so hard to get her to go to an event he had so recently declined to attend himself. “If you like cards. And the last one before Christmas is always a big deal.”
“Does Mrs. Dillon play?” she asked warily. “Your uncle said something about teams.”
“No,” he said, “at least not recently. She goes, but she hasn’t played in years.”
“Then that’s that.” She looked relieved. “I can’t go because I’m not on a team.”
Cale leaned back onto his elbows. “You can be on mine,” he offered casually, wondering at the same time what on earth he could be thinking.
“What?” She sat up and looked incredulous. “You don’t even know if I can play! And don’t tell me you don’t already have a partner.”
“I don’t actually. I haven’t been in a long time, but I’ve been thinking about giving it another try.” He grinned, and wondered what his Uncle Pete would say if he could hear this conversation. “I’m sure it would be more fun if you came too, and if you don’t know how to play, I’d be happy to teach you.” At least neither of those statements were lies. It would most definitely be more enjoyable if Willow was there.
“It’s been a while, but I’ve played before.” Willow looked at the floor and bit her lip. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. If I meet everyone, are they going to assume I’m staying? Try to convince me not to leave? I don’t want to have to explain my story fifty times.”
“We could always let the town newspaper do a piece on you,” Cale suggested, trying to keep a straight face. The town paper was really just sports news, ski reports, ranch equipment and livestock ads, and a series of gossip columns. They reported on local families' vacations, marriages, divorces, and even home repairs. Lydia Ortwell was the Editor and Reporter in Chief for the weekly publication, and loved nothing more than finding new fodder for her columns.
“Yes, I’ll just go request an interview and spill all my secrets at once, shall I?” Willow retorted, grabbing a pine cone out of a nearby box and throwing it at him.
Cale ducked, laughing. He couldn’t believe how much more comfortable she seemed to be around him. Maybe she didn’t trust him completely yet, but they had certainly made progress.
“At least think about it,” he insisted, tossing the pine cone from hand to hand. “Cards, not the interview,” he amended, when she shot him an incredulous look. “We can always quit early and go home if you don’t enjoy it, and you might find that it’s more fun than you expect.”
Duke suddenly decided he wasn’t getting enough attention and rolled to the side, leaving the bulk of his weight directly on Willow’s lap. He followed that maneuver with an attempt to wiggle onto his back, waving his paws in her face and giving a groan of canine contentment.
Willow burst out laughing. “You are the biggest, most ridiculous lap dog in the history of ever,” she informed him, scratching his belly anyway. “And you’re going to have to move because otherwise I’m going to end up squashed into the carpet.”
“Duke, come,” Cale ordered. The enormous Dane huffed pitifully, but heaved to his feet and sat dejectedly at Cale’s side.
“Okay,” Willow said unexpectedly.
“Okay?”
“I’ll go. If you promise we can leave early. I did swear to try all the Christmasy things and this seems to qualify.”
Cale suppressed a grin. She was going. As his partner. And she’d said “we.”
“Sounds great,” he said, trying to keep his enthusiasm firmly in check. “I’ll pick you up a little before seven tomorrow.”
“Maybe I should just ride with Mrs. Dillon.” She shot him a nervous look.
“If you’re worried, I’ll pick you both up.”
She declined, and Cale decided it didn’t matter in the slightest how they got there. She’d agreed to go, and he felt like he’d been given the best early Christmas present ever.
On Friday night, Cale waited just inside the Echo Creek Community Center feeling almost nervous. Would she show up? Would she be upset with him for pressuring her to come?
It was almost as bad as his first date with Marissa, but this wasn’t a date and he had no particular reason to be nervous. They were just going to play some cards and go home. He would protect Willow from the worst of the prying townsfolk, and try to make sure she had a fabulous time.
It mattered a little too much to him that she enjoyed it. He didn’t want her to hate Echo Creek, and he still felt a burning need to banish that look she sometimes wore that said she was about to bolt at any moment.
From that perspective, this whole idea might have been a mistake. Maybe he should have just left things as they were. She was becoming more comfortable with him, and if he pushed her too far, she might change her mind…
Mrs. Dillon walked through the door, followed by Willow, and his heart started to beat again. For a moment, all he could do was watch her as she took in the room and clutched her coat like a lifeline.
She was so beautiful. How could he have missed seeing it that night they met? Her bruises had faded, and she’d started pulling her hair up just in the past few days, accentuating her high cheekbones and expressive mouth. The black sweater she was wearing made her hazel eyes look enormous and brilliant as she searched the hall for something.
Would it be too much to hope she was looking for him?
Cale made his way to her side of the room until he was right behind her. “You made it,” he said softly, and she whirled around, the relief in her eyes unmistakable. He thought he saw something else, a brief flash of warmth or surprise, but it was gone before he could identify it.
“Hi,” she said, her eyes darting away from his. “This is intense. What do we need to do first?”
“I already signed us up,” he reassured her, “so, nothing. There will probably be a few hundred more people showing up, so until then we just enjoy the atmosphere and the homemade cookies.”
He pointed to the tables at the back of the room, which were covered in cookies, fudge and all manner of other holiday treats. There was hot chocolate, coffee, and several pots full of spiced cider, all free and provided by enthusiastic volunteers.
“Who does all this?” Willow wanted to know. “It looks like a lot of work.”
He pointed to the enormous tree on the stage at the far end of the room. “That was set up and decorated by the fire department, and the City Hall staff is in charge of music. There’s a quilting club that provides beverages, an outdoors club that sets up and tears down the equipment, and about fifty amazing cooks who bake all the snacks. The room behind the stage is set up with a movie projector, so the community church makes popcorn and lets the kids watch Christmas movies while the adults play cards.”
“I thought your uncle was being overly optimistic when he said this brings the community together,” Willow said quietly. “Clearly he wasn’t.”
“Uncle Pete is all about bringing people together,” he noted wryly. “One way or another.”
For some reason, Willow’s cheeks went pink.
“So”—he shoved his hands in his pockets—“do you need a quick refresher course on the game? There’s actually a few tables for beginners where we run them through the rules and a few practice hands.”
“You should probably give me a rundown on house rules,” she requested, “but I think I can remember how to play.”
“We play a partnership auction racehorse version. You’re required to follow suit and win the trick whenever possible.”
“Seems simple enough. Meld before play? If there’s no bid does it drop on the dealer or do you fold the hand?”
“Yes, and dealer gets it.” Cale narrowed his eyes at her. “How much pinochle have you played exactly?”
“It’s been years,” she said, shrugging off the question and turning to watch the crowd.
“Cale!”
He turned at the familiar sound of Tess’s voice and gave her a hug. “Glad you made it. Is Finn here?”
“I dragged him,” she confessed, looking guilty, “but I doubt he’ll play. The kids wanted to come watch Christmas movies and eat fudge so I shamelessly nagged him into bringing them.”
“Someday he’ll realize that he has the best sister ever,” Cale promised.
“Oh, hi!” When Tess noticed Willow, she stepped forward and hugged her with enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you came. I was hoping someone would talk Cale into playing again, and this is such a fun way to meet people around the community.”
Willow’s eyes were a little wide, but she seemed to have avoided outright panic. “Actually, it was Cale that talked me into coming. I’m not great with crowds.”
“Well, he can be very persuasive,” Tess said, with a twinkle in her eye and a knowing smile on her lips. “But either way, I’m glad he has you. It’s so nice to see him smiling again, especially this time of year.”
“Wait, we…” Cale started to say, at the same time Willow burst out with a denial.
“I’m not…”
“Oh, there’s Rory! I’ve got to go say hi. Catch you both later!” Tess waved and moved off towards the stage, greeting other acquaintances as she went.
Willow’s mouth was still open. “I knew this was a bad idea,” she muttered after a moment.
“Don’t worry,” Cale said, trying to reassure her even as he was beginning to wonder whether she might have been right. Was the whole town going to assume that he and Willow were there together? That they were more than casual friends?
“I’m going to go find Mrs. Dillon,” Willow said firmly. “Let me know when it’s time to start playing. Maybe if no one sees us together, they won’t start making unfounded assumptions.”
Cale wasn’t sure it would be that easy, but he pointed her towards the refreshment table where Marcia was chatting with friends. No sooner had she headed that direction than someone clapped him on the back.
“Good to see you, nephew mine.” Uncle Pete wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Likewise, wisest of uncles,” Cale replied sarcastically. “Tell me. Have you been harassing Willow at her place of employment?”
“Harassing?” Pete looked both hurt and scandalized. “I met her once and introduced myself. I had no idea that would count as harassment.”
“She already seems to know that you’re an inveterate matchmaker and an incorrigible gossip.”
“I swear I behaved with the utmost civility and decorum,” his uncle said innocently. “Someone else must have been gossiping about me. But, since we’re on the topic, I can’t help but notice that she seems a bit taken with you.”
“Willow?” It was Cale’s turn to look scandalized. “I’ve only just convinced her to stop being terrified of me. If she ever does decide to trust me enough to let her guard down, she doesn’t need a fling, she needs friends.”
“Cale, have you ever known me to encourage anyone to indulge in something so juvenile as a fling?” Uncle Pete demanded, looking over his glasses sternly.
“Well, I can’t imagine what else you were encouraging. Willow is only here until the first of the year at most.”
“Unless we convince her to stay,” his uncle said blandly.
“I don’t think you understand her circumstances,” Cale reminded him carefully. “She’s just passing through, and for a lot of reasons.”
“Maybe she just needs reasons to put down roots.”
“Promise me you won’t start pushing her to change her plans,” Cale told Pete sternly. “I mean it. This isn’t a game for her. She needs space in order to feel comfortable and if you start pushing, she’s going to bolt.”
His uncle just smiled. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I swear. But she likes you, Cale. I’m an old man and I’ve seen enough to know. So if you’re determined to avoid entanglements, on both sides, you need to be very careful about all of this just being friends nonsense.”
With that, he disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Cale to stare after him, stunned into speechlessness.
It wasn’t nonsense. Was it? Could his uncle be right, or was this just another of his ceaseless matchmaking attempts? And if Pete was right, should Cale do anything about it or remind himself of why he’d decided it was best for him and Willow to stay friends?
Shrugging off the questions, Cale moved off into the crowd, pausing to chat occasionally with an enthusiasm that he hoped gave no hint of the turmoil within.
Chapter 8
By the midway point of the evening, Willow was thankful that she’d agreed to play cards. It gave her something to focus on so she could pretend to ignore the undercurrent of assumptions being made about her and Cale, especially once everyone realized they were playing as partners.
Cale seemed completely unbothered by the comments. Their first opponents had been an adorable older couple who congratulated him on his “lovely partner,” at which point Cale had merely smiled and said that he did count himself fortunate.
She’d kicked him under the table, which had only made his smile bigger.
Willow was a bit rusty at pinochle, but she’d played countless games with her brother and his friends, back when they would all hide in Elliot’s room after school. None of the boys had taken it easy on her just because she was younger, so she’d learned the hard way to play smart, cutthroat cards.
It took three hands to put away the first game, then only two to defeat their second opponents. The third round was a little more difficult, but she and Cale were starting to get a gauge for each other’s strengths and managed to defeat the previous year’s champions after five hands. At that point, their games began to draw a crowd, and the winning score dropped to a thousand.
On the fourth round, Willow was a little nervous about being watched, but Cale melded eight aces and the game was over before it really began. When they got up from the table, after an enthusiastic fist bump from her partner, they were surrounded by friends, who seemed a little too excited over what was, in the end, just a card game.
“Cale, I’m beginning to think you imported a ringer,” exclaimed one young man, wrap
ping his arm around Cale’s shoulder and punching him in the ribs.
“Took out an ad on Craigslist for genius pinochle players,” Cale said with a straight face. “Had to fly her in from Boston, but it was worth it to see the look on Pat’s face.”
He must have been referring to their third-round opponents. One of the former champions had clearly been stunned to have been knocked out of the game so early.
“Really?” The young man’s face lit up. “I should try that next year.”
“Cale!” Willow shot him a desperate look. “Will you stop being ridiculous?”
“Actually, she’s just in town for the holidays,” Cale conceded, shooting her a mischievous grin. “We met when I towed her car from a red zone on Main Street. Guess it’s a good thing I decided not to give her that parking ticket or she might never have agreed to be my partner.”
“Really?” The other man’s eyes went wide. “That’s almost adorable, Cale. Won’t do much for the parking problem, but you should let all the other deputies know that not giving out parking tickets is a great way to find true love.”
“For the last time, we are not together,” Willow growled.
“Oh.” The man seemed to think about it, then he grinned at her. “Does that mean you’re available?”
“Drew, for the love of all that is holy, please don’t give Willow the impression that Echo Creek single men are desperate and completely without a clue.”
“Aren’t you?” Willow muttered under her breath.
Drew burst out laughing. “We are,” he confirmed. “But I’m not so sure that Cale is one of us any more. Enjoy the rest of the tournament, you guys.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Willow turned to Cale, her eyes narrowed. “You could be trying harder to convince people that we’re not here together.”
“And if you haven’t noticed,” he pointed out, “the more you try to tell them we’re not, the more they’re convinced that we’re in denial or have something to hide.”
