Small Town Christmas (Blue Harbor Book 4)

by Olivia Miles

  “That’s okay, Candy. I understand,” Cora said politely. She glanced at Amelia, who gave her a pointed look, and then turned away, hiding her smile.

  While she went to the hallway where coat racks were set up, she took in the scene. It was the same event, every year, she knew, but this year she could see it had her sisters’ marks on it. As coordinators of the event this year, and typical to the personalities of all the Conway family members, they had embraced the challenge. The rows of decorating tables were covered in red and white striped tablecloths, and the topping options were more than just crushed candy canes and sprinkles. She spotted everything from gumdrops to ribbon candy to mini marshmallows in passing. And then there were the gingerbread baking stations, each with measuring spoons and cups, and canisters of flour and sugar. But the best new additions were the large recipe signs that had been written onto the chalkboards all around the room. Attached to the bottom of each was a tear-away sheet.

  “This is clever,” Cora commented, recalling Gladys O’Leary’s rather unimaginative effort last year when she’d simply dumped a grocery bag at each station and called it a day. But then, after twenty years, she was probably ready to pass the torch.

  Cora hoped that her sisters would make the tradition last just as long.

  “I like that it gives people a chance to gather together and mingle,” Candy said, coming to stand next to her.

  Cora could only hope that Candy had washed her hands when she put an arm around her shoulder and gave it a good, hard squeeze. Just in case there was any hope of Phil stopping by, she’d worn her best cashmere sweater, telling herself that a community event was a reason to dress up a bit, anyway.

  She glanced at her sisters, who were dressed festively, but practically. If they got flour or icing on their jeans or sweaters, it would wash right out.

  Luckily, Candy didn’t seem to be onto anything amiss. Yet.

  “And look,” Candy was saying, sweeping her hand over the room, like a game show host. “We have hot chocolate at the concessions stand. I’m in charge.” She waggled her eyebrows, and Cora had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

  She should have known that her sisters would have found a creative way to keep Candy occupied without getting too meddlesome. And this solution was perfect. Candy loved to help. And she loved to chat with everyone.

  And decorate, Cora thought, considering the garish tinsel that now framed the concession window, complete by flashing lights and a cardboard sign that read, “Candy Cane Hot Chocolate.”

  Candy tapped her apron, which bore the print of a large candy cane, suitable for the event, though Cora had to assume there was more to it than that.

  She was right.

  “That’s me. Candy cane. Just through the season.” Candy laughed until she snorted and gave Cora a heavy swat on the arm to underscore her joke.

  Cora forced her mouth into a smile. She reminded herself that Candy meant well, but given Candy’s love of themes, she was beginning to dread what the woman might have planned for their Christmas Eve dinner, now that Amelia would no longer be participating.

  Usually Amelia cooked a delicious meal, and they all gathered around the table before settling in for their movie and popcorn. Now she wondered what they would eat. Tomato and mozzarella ball kabobs shaped like a cane? She could see it now.

  Speaking of Amelia…She was currently walking toward the industrial kitchen, and now might just be Cora’s chance to get her alone.

  Candy, however, had other ideas. “I saw you walking around the tree lighting ceremony with that single father. Quite dashing, isn’t he?”

  Her eyes were wide with curiosity, and Cora suppressed a sigh. She should have known she wouldn’t be left off the hook so easily.

  “He’s very nice. And it’s good to see tourist activity this time of year!” Anything to throw Candy off the scent. She took credit for matching up Maddie and Cole, and she also felt she played a fair part in reuniting Amelia and Matt. Cora was now the only single sister.

  Why couldn’t Candy move on to the other Conway girls? Uncle Steve’s daughters? Or Aunt Miriam’s nieces? Cora knew full well how much Natalie was hoping to find love…which was why it was probably a good thing that she hadn’t been in the shop the few times that Phil came through.

  Cora gave an apologetic glance to Candy. “I’m just going to grab Amelia before things get too busy.”

  “Better be quick,” Candy noted with a gesture toward the doors. “People come early to get a good station.”

  That they did. No one wanted to be stuck too close to the front doors, where a draft could blow in from the stairwell, or too far from the kitchen, where the ovens needed to be watched. But Cora couldn’t think about claiming a prime spot just now. She hurried across the floor toward the kitchen, nearly out of breath by the time she found Amelia near the sink, washing her hands.

  “I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. When Amelia gave her a quizzical look, she added, “For the tree. I knew it had to be from you—”

  But Amelia was shaking her head. “Tree?”

  “You didn’t send me a Christmas tree?” Cora picked up a bowl of dough along with Amelia and followed her to the door. “I guess I assumed because of Christmas Eve…” She trailed off when she saw the dismay in her sister’s eyes.

  “I’m really sorry, Cora. And Britt is, too. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you today. The holidays are special, but they can’t be the same every year, can they? It’s fun to try new things and have some new celebrations.” She gave her a smile of encouragement.

  Cora didn’t want to get into that conversation just now, not with the event about to start. Not with her feelings still sore. “So, you didn’t send the tree?”

  “I’m sorry, Cora, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t send you a Christmas tree. Now I sort of wish I had, though.” She gave her an apologetic smile.

  Cora made a mental list of all of her family members, wondering who might have sent one and why now of all years. Her cousins cared, but not enough to be bothered pushing something on her that she hadn’t asked for, and Britt and Maddie were too busy with their new business ventures these past few months to take on much more.

  “But if it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

  Amelia shrugged and flashed Cora a smile. “Sounds like you have a secret admirer.”

  A secret admirer. Wouldn’t that be nice?

  “This has Candy written all over it,” Cora sighed, thinking again of the tension the other night over the tree topper. “Maybe it’s her way of letting me know it’s time to have my own tree to decorate.”

  “You could ask her,” Amelia said, as she set the bowl down on a table that was quickly descended upon by Keira and a friend. “But isn’t it fun to think that it could be from someone else?”

  Cora thought about Candy and shook her head. As much as she could dream of something as romantic as a secret admirer, she lived in Blue Harbor, where everyone knew everyone, and the only eligible suitor in town was leaving in a matter of weeks.

  Candy didn’t like tension. She would want to smooth things over for the night.

  It was sweet. A relief in many ways because now Cora might not need to worry too much about Candy overstepping any more traditions—not if she felt repentant.

  “Oh, Cora, good, there you are!” Maddie came over to her with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back off her face, but a few wisps had come undone.

  “Do you need some help?” Cora was happy to tend to any last-minute decorations.

  Maddie’s expression looked pained, and she didn’t need to say anything for Cora to know what was coming.

  “Don’t tell me,” she groaned.

  “Don’t be mad!” Maddie blinked rapidly. “It’s just that Cole doesn’t have any family, and our family is…well, a lot. And we did Thanksgiving at the house, and we’ll be there Christmas Day. I just thought that if Amelia and Britt weren’t going to be
there, that the whole thing would sort of be…cancelled.” Maddie winced.

  Cora gaped at her sister. “Cancelled? And what about me?”

  “You’re upset.”

  Clearly! Cora thought back on Amelia’s words as she pushed back the disappointment that tugged at her chest. “No, you’re right. We’ll have Christmas. And it makes sense for you to do something special with Cole on Christmas Eve.”

  Maddie reached in and gave Cora a quick squeeze before dashing off. “I knew you’d understand!”

  Yes, Cora understood, all right. Her sisters were moving on with their lives. They were starting new traditions of their own.

  She blinked back tears and took a steadying breath, just in time to see Phil and Georgie arrive in the doorway across the hall.

  And so could she.

  Maybe Amelia was right, Cora thought. She was trying some new things this season, with a new person. And it was fun.

  *

  Phil stared down at the gingerbread dough and tried not to think of all the work he still had to do before tomorrow’s weekly Monday meeting, never mind the fact that he still hadn’t given Cora notice on the shop.

  It was what she had said, last night, about her mother, and Christmas, and traditions. It got to him, damn it. And nothing ever got to him when it came to business. And that’s all this was. A simple transaction. He was the executor of his grandparents’ estate. He was here to do what was in their best interest, and that was to cash out their properties, give them a much-needed nest egg. They had no reason to hold onto the cottage or the house on Main. That part of their life was behind them now.

  And behind him too, he reminded himself. Coming back here had muddled with his head. Stirred up memories that he hadn’t thought of in years, evoking a time and a feeling that were fleeting, not part of daily life. At least, not his.

  But they could be Georgie’s. At least for the holidays.

  “Here comes my sister Britt,” Cora said, barely looking up from the work station, and something in her tone told Phil that it wasn’t because she was a perfectionist when it came to rolling out gingerbread.

  Sure enough, the woman from the cider stand arrived with a girl around Georgie’s age. “Hey, Cora. Hi, Phil. Georgie. This is Keira Bradford. She was hoping that Georgie might help her decorate some gingerbread men at the children’s table.”

  Georgie smiled up at him. “Can I, Dad?”

  “Of course!” He pulled in a breath as he watched the two girls scamper off together. Soon he’d be alone with Cora. What was his excuse now?

  Technically, he didn’t have a buyer for either of the properties—yet. But giving ample notice was not only the professional but kind thing to do. Meaning the sooner he got it over with, the better.

  But now Cora was rolling out her dough with increased force, and her sister was frowning. Deeply.

  “Amelia told me that she talked to you,” she said.

  Phil had the impression that he was about to get involved in a family spat, not that he was immune from them. The holidays tended to bring out the worst in people, at least in his experience.

  “Maddie did too,” Cora said archly. She sighed and set down the rolling pin. Phil couldn’t help but notice that Britt looked a little relieved about that. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “You sure?” Britt chewed her bottom lip.

  “I’m sure.” Beside him he saw Cora wink, and something in Britt transform.

  “Well, then, I should get back to Robbie before he finishes frosting all the roofs. It was always my favorite part,” she added. “I forgot how much I missed this event. I guess I forgot how much I missed a lot of things in Blue Harbor.”

  “It’s certainly a special place.”

  Phil stiffened and focused on his task. Cora’s words had touched a nerve, even though they weren’t directed at him.

  “Everything okay with your sister?” Phil asked when they were alone again. Cora was standing so close to him that he could feel the sleeve of her sweater brush his arm every once and a while. He inched closer, liking the sensation.

  “Oh, she bailed on Christmas Eve, too.” Cora shrugged. “And Maddie did earlier.”

  “So your special traditions?”

  “Guess they forced my hand. I’ll have to make some new ones this year.” She gave him a long look before glancing away. “We should probably get these in the oven before the dough gets too warm and they lose their shape. Our first batch should be just about done by now, too.”

  They walked to the kitchen, past the children’s table to check on Georgie, who was giggling as she placed gumdrop buttons on a gingerbread man.

  “She seems to be fitting right in,” Cora observed.

  Yes, Phil thought. She was. But then, Blue Harbor was like that. Then, and now. It was the leaving that was hardest. The reminder that life wasn’t always like this.

  “It’s nice to see her with other kids. As an only child, I worry that she’ll be lonely.”

  Cora glanced up at him before pushing through the kitchen door. “Were you lonely as an only child?”

  “How’d you—” He stopped. “Of course. My grandmother told you.”

  “I knew that you were an only child, just like your father. She said the two of you were a lot alike.”

  Phil felt his jaw tighten. He’d spent his entire life trying to earn his father’s approval, and hadn’t ever felt like he measured up. But now, thinking maybe they were a lot alike no longer felt like a compliment.

  They managed to get to one of the ovens just as another woman was pulling a tray out. Cora set the timer and checked on their earlier batch.

  “A few more minutes,” the woman remarked. She glanced at the two of them and gave Cora a little smile. “I’ll be popping into your shop this week. Still need to pick up some stocking stuffers for the grandkids.”

  “I’ll be there!” Cora said happily.

  Oh, good grief. Phil couldn’t talk to her about all this now. Not with what she’d just said. Not with all these people here. This was her community. Where everyone knew everyone.

  And where everyone probably knew his grandparents, too.

  Besides, as he watched Cora open the oven door and slide in the tray, his gaze drifted to her curves, and he felt something stronger than the desire to close a business deal, which usually gave him a rush, every time. He felt something more like attraction. A yearning for something deeper, and different.

  Something that was right in front of him. Cora blinked up at him, her eyes questioning, until suddenly her expression fell.

  “Oh dear God,” Cora hissed under her breath. “Hurry up and get into the pantry. Candy’s coming.”

  “But isn’t our timer about to go off?” Phil wasn’t much of a baker, but he knew plenty about burning food. Georgie would no doubt be sharing stories of his overcooked pizzas before long.

  “They’ll be fine, and something tells me that we won’t be if Candy finds out we’ve partnered up.”

  “She’s determined to match you up, isn’t she?” Phil said as he let her gently push him into a broom closet.

  Cora kept the door open a crack so she could peer through it. “Pretty much. She’ll try anyone so long as they’re male, single, and employed.”

  “Guess I fit the bill then,” Phil said, trying not to laugh.

  Cora looked genuinely apologetic as she turned to look up at him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, obviously, Candy took one look at you and made a point of finding out your situation.”

  “My situation?” It wasn’t so easy to suppress the grin that was pulling at his mouth.

  Cora’s eyes widened and then shifted to the side. Her cheeks flamed. “I mean, you know, if you were single, and, um…”

  He lifted an eyebrow and offered, “Employed?”

  “Right.” Cora swallowed hard. “And of course of the right age…”

  “Bare basics, then. No other real criteria needed. Just a plain and simple match. No…physical re
quirements?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

  Now he grinned. “No. Just seeing where I fit into all of this.”

  Cora huffed and pursed her lips. “Obviously Candy saw something in you.”

  “Only Candy?”

  Their eyes locked. In this room, they were so close that Phil could smell the perfume she was wearing, although he wasn’t so sure it was perfume. It was sweet, and spicy, with a bit of pine mixed in there too. She smelled like Christmas, he realized.

  She smelled like the way he wanted to feel. Then. Now. Always.

  His gaze lingered on her mouth and he heard Cora pull in a breath, before just as quickly the door was yanked open and Candy’s face appeared.

  “Well, what do we have here?” She looked just as elated at finding them as Cora did embarrassed.

  “We just needed a broom. Um…Georgie spilled something.” Cora shot him a panicked look and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “And here I thought there was a sprig of mistletoe hiding out somewhere!” Candy peered up at the ceiling and then gave Phil a coy wink as she strutted away.

  “Don’t mind her,” Cora said, but from the pink in her cheeks, it was clear that she minded Candy, very much. “We should probably check on the gingerbread anyway.”

  Phil supposed she was right. Now wasn’t the time for a kiss. Or a conversation about the property. Both those things would have to wait.

  Maybe, only one of them could, he thought. The more he got to know Cora, the more he doubted she would ever speak to him again if he booted her from the storefront.

  A beeping sound was coming from the oven as they approached, and the smell made it clear that it been going on for quite some time.

  “Damn,” Cora said, dropping the tray of burnt gingerbread onto the counter.

  “No one will notice if we cover them in icing. And it’s still the best gingerbread I ever made,” Phil said, trying to cajole her.

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “More like the only gingerbread you ever made?”

  He laughed. “Well, I did make cookies before. Once. But I was more of an assistant. My grandmother was the baker.”