Home for the Holidays

by Sara Richardson

  Mags and Dahlia shared a skeptical look, but they didn’t argue.

  “You go,” Dally said, reaching for another box. “We’ll stay here and keep working.”

  “Chickens.” But Rose didn’t need their help for this conversation. And Dally was right. It shouldn’t feel like an ambush. “I’ll be back down after Sassy and I have a little chat.” She slipped outside into the cold and slogged through the knee-deep snow up to the main house.

  By the time she slipped in through the front door, she had a whole script planned out. She’d pull the letter out of her pocket, lay it flat on the kitchen table and ask her aunt why their mother had written it. Rose pulled off her boots and coat, and then wound through the living room where the murmur of voices stopped her before she could turn into the kitchen.

  “You have to give her a chance,” Sassy was saying. “She’s changed a lot, you know. And so have you, for that matter.”

  “This has nothing to do with Rose.”

  Colt? Why were he and Sassy discussing her? She moved closer to the kitchen wall, trying to hear.

  “I’m telling you, Sassy. They shouldn’t have this place. They’ve ignored you all these years. Now they’re back for one Christmas and you’re just going to give it to them?”

  The passion in Colt’s voice took her back a step. For hardly speaking two words to her, he sure had a lot to say to Sassy. What business was it of his?

  “Let me buy it from you,” he went on. “Fair and square for market value. I’ll make something out of it again. You know I will.”

  Rose’s jaw dropped. The nerve of that man! Trying to buy the inn right out from under them.

  “The past isn’t their fault,” Sassy said in a hushed tone. “They didn’t have any say in what Lillian decided, and I won’t hold it against them.”

  “But they obviously don’t care about this place,” Colt argued. “Not like I do.”

  Rose fisted her hands, ready for a fight. How could he possibly know that? He hadn’t even spent time with her or her sisters. He hadn’t tried to get to know them at all.

  “I know,” Sassy murmured sadly. “You and I will always have such a special connection.”

  Rose nearly tripped over her sock-clad feet. A special connection? What kind of special connection could her aunt possibly have with Colt?

  “But those girls are my family too,” her aunt went on.

  Wait just one minute. Her family too? What did that mean? Rose strained to keep listening.

  “And I want to offer them this place. Something tells me they all need it. If they decide they don’t want it, you know it’s yours.”

  “I understand.” A rustling warned that Colt might be getting up from the table, so Rose retreated back into the hallway and quickly shoved her feet into her boots, her heart pounding. Without bothering to grab her coat, she slipped out the door and stumbled in a clumsy jog all the way back down the hill to the trailer. Throwing open the door, she stepped back inside, heaving out breaths.

  Mags and Dally froze.

  “What is it? What happened?” Mags finally asked.

  Rose stared at her sisters, still trying to process what she’d heard. “What if Colt is Sassy’s son?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dahlia

  Dahlia took in the shocked expression on Rose’s face and found it hard not to shake her head.

  Ever since her youngest sister was old enough to talk, Rose had thrived on drama, drama, drama. In fact, that had probably been one of Rose’s first words. Combine that with her wild imagination and you got cockamamie theories about aunts who had secret sons.

  “That’s crazy.” She took down another box off the stack and started to rifle through more dress-up clothes and costume jewelry. This one had been harder hit by the years, so she set it aside in the trash pile. “Colt is not Sassy’s son.” She glanced at Mags for confirmation, but a thoughtful look graced her other sister’s heart-shaped face.

  “I’m not sure it’s crazy,” Mags said slowly. “I know I remember him from our past. Now that I think about it, didn’t we used to play hide-and-seek with a boy? It must’ve been Colt. Sassy said he was around here a lot when we would visit.”

  Rose scooted onto the bench seat across from Mags. “I heard him talking to Sassy in the kitchen. He’s not happy she wants to give this place to us. And the way Sassy was talking to him…he’s family. He has to be.”

  “We would know if Sassy had a son.” There is no way their mother or their aunt would have kept a secret like that from them all these years.

  “Maybe that’s why Mom stopped talking to her!” Rose gasped. “Maybe she found out Sassy had a secret son that she’d never told Mom about, and Mom got so upset she vowed to never speak to Sassy again!”

  This time Dahlia laughed. Thankfully Mags joined in. “You’re right,” Mags said. “She’s crazy. Colt is probably just a neighborhood kid who grew up nearby.”

  “Exactly. And anyway, we don’t have time to do any investigative work.” Dahlia shoved another box of dress-up clothes aside, turning her attention back to the task at hand. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to clean out this trailer before the extravaganza. Not with all the boxes we still have to sort through. Plus, what are we going to do with all this stuff?”

  Rose pouted as though she resented the change of subject, but then she shrugged and sent Dahlia a mischievous grin. “I asked Ike to meet us down here so we can load up some of it into his truck. He offered to bring it to the dumpster for us.”

  At the mention of Ike, a distinct quiver skittered down the length of Dahlia’s spine. She’d actually enjoyed working with him the other day. Maybe a little too much. And now her fears had started to boil over again. There was no use in denying her attraction to the man. But what would happen if she let herself feel something for him?

  “He should be here in about ten minutes,” Rose went on, carefully watching Dahlia’s face.

  “Great idea,” Dahlia said dismissively, looking through another box to deflect her sisters’ stares.

  “He seemed more than happy to help.” Rose walked over. “Especially when I told him you would be here.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Dahlia continued with her rummaging. Whew, was it warm in here? She looked into the box again. “I think most of this can go straight into the dumpster.”

  There were a few dress-up items and hats they could save, for sentimental value. Maybe she could bring them to Maya. “I’ll bet we can whittle this all down to one box.” Her brain started shifted into administrative mode again. “Maybe I should start documenting everything we’re finding.” She searched a drawer in the tiny kitchen for a pad of paper.

  “Why do you always do that?” Rose demanded, watching her from the dinette.

  “Do what?” Dahlia located an old notepad that seemed on the verge of falling apart but it would do. Now she only needed a pen…

  “Why do you always make yourself crazy busy when one of us brings up Ike?” Rose came over and stole the notepad out of her hands. “You’re not very good at pretending, you know. I can tell you totally have the hots for the man. And I don’t blame you, by the way.”

  “Me neither,” Mags agreed heartily. “He’s so…”

  “Vigorous,” Rose finished for her.

  Dahlia had to laugh again. “Vigorous?” Well, there was a word for you. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she lied.

  “What she means is that Ike is hot. Manly. And yet he’s easygoing,” Mags mused. “At least that’s how it sounds from the way you described the little moose mishap when you two met.”

  “He’s laid-back all right.” Maybe even a little too laid-back for her. Look how her relationship with Jeff had turned out.

  “Come on.” Rose stacked her hands on her hips the same way she used to when she was three years old. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that he’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Fine. He’s gorgeous.” She’d done her best to fight off the blush, but heat s
eemed to spill across her cheeks. “And yes. He’s manly, too.” Not because he went to the gym every day like Jeff, but because a person could tell he worked outside. And he probably hiked all the time and climbed mountains for cripes’ sake. “But Ike is not my type.” It had been so long since she’d been on the dating scene that she wasn’t sure she even had a type. “I’m fine on my own.” Even as she said it, the words mocked her. She wasn’t on her own. Her ex-husband still occupied far too much of her time. “My life is complicated enough, I don’t need—”

  “Exactly,” Mags broke in. “Your life is complicated. But Ike is not. He’s easygoing. Fun. Right now, all of your complications happen to be out of the country, so…” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  Dahlia ignored the way the insinuation made her palms tingle. Instead of indulging her sisters’ suggestions, she picked up a box and opened the door. “Ike and I are not—”

  She quickly snapped her jaw shut at the sight of the man. He stood a few feet away outside. Good God, had he heard them talking?

  “Hi there.” He walked over with his good-natured smile. “I heard you ladies needed a garbageman.”

  Was that all he’d heard? Dahlia jerked her head to stare at Rose, her face flushing with humiliation. These camper walls were paper thin!

  “Yes!” Rose pushed past Dalia and rushed out the camper door. “Thank you for coming, Ike. As you can see, we have about fifteen boxes that we’ll have to haul over to the dumpster.”

  “No problem.” He smiled that smile at Dahlia, the one that made it seem like the two of them shared a secret.

  “Why don’t you stack the boxes outside the door, and I’ll load them into the truck?” Ike removed a pair of gloves from his coat pocket and pulled them on.

  Rose eyed the junk pile. “It might take five trips. Or more.”

  “Nah.” The man shrugged off any concern. “I’ll get it in one.”

  “Sounds perfect, doesn’t it, Dahlia?” Rose climbed up onto the step and nudged her in the ribs.

  “Right. Yes,” she said quickly. Then she moved deeper into the camper so Ike wouldn’t be able to see the red roses blooming on her cheeks. “We’ll start with this one.” She shoved a box into Rose’s arms with extra oomph.

  “Geez.” Her sister shot her an amused glare. “What’s your problem?”

  As if she didn’t know.

  “Girls, girls,” Mags chastised, standing up from the dinette table. “Let’s not keep Ike waiting. Let’s get this done so I can get in a nap.”

  “I thought you already had a nap.” Dahlia examined her sister’s face.

  “That was my midmorning nap. This will be my midafternoon nap.” Her sister hoisted a box off the stack and set it by the door. “I can’t seem to find any energy.”

  Probably because her sister had spent the last few days baking to prepare for the extravaganza. The freezer was slowly running out of space.

  “Well, there’s no time for naps,” Rose declared. “After we get this mess cleaned out, we have a family mystery to solve.” Her eyebrows peaked with expectation, but Dahlia simply shook her head.

  “You watch too much Real Housewives,” she said, setting aside a box of jewelry and clothes for Maya. They couldn’t throw all of these old treasures away.

  “I love the Real Housewives.” Ike appeared at the doorway, peering inside where they stood.

  Dahlia couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Do you now?”

  “Yes.” He effortlessly lifted two boxes into his arms. “It’s a true anthropological study,” the man said before he disappeared with the boxes.

  He had to be joking.

  “Which Real Housewives is your favorite?” Rose called through the open door.

  From somewhere outside, Ike answered, “Real Housewives of Orange County all the way.”

  “Me too!” Her younger sister squealed.

  Oh, good Lord. “Maybe we can talk more about the Housewives after we get these boxes out of here.” Dahlia nudged Rose toward the back of the camper.

  “Or we can talk about it while we load the boxes.” Without waiting for an answer, her sister snatched up another box from the discard pile and traipsed outside with it.

  Dahlia only heard snippets of the latest Real Housewives gossip. She mostly hid in the camper and organized boxes as they went, and by the time an hour had passed, the camper sat mostly empty.

  Usually cleaning out a space gave her a swell of satisfaction but standing in the empty trailer brought on a twinge of sadness. “It looks so different.” Back when they’d played in here all that clutter had made it seem cozy and safe somehow.

  “Yeah,” Mags said through a yawn. “It actually looks clean.”

  Clean and hollow. And yet…she supposed that’s how it should be. In order to repurpose a space, you had to wipe it clean—leaving little reminders of the past, maybe. Like the tic-tac-toe marks they’d penned onto Betty’s wall. But you had to make room for new things, too. New experiences, new memories. She’d tried hard to keep things the same, even through all the changes of the last year, but maybe the same wasn’t what she needed.

  “That’s it?” Ike stepped into the camper, crowding in with her and Rose and Mags. “I thought we’d be here another few hours,” he joked.

  “You’re very efficient.” Rose glanced at Dahlia as though waiting for her to agree.

  “We appreciate your help,” she said instead, tingles erupting in her cheeks. Ugh. She had to busy her hands with something, to distract herself from the power of those eyes…

  “No problem.” Ike glanced around as though making sure they’d really gotten everything. “Since we’re done early, I’m gonna head over to the country-western bar in town. The Crazy Moose. I’ve got a friend playing a set there this afternoon. Anyone care to join me?” He seemed to let his gaze linger on Dahlia.

  “Dahlia is free this afternoon,” Rose blurted. “I would love to come but I texted Colt about meeting up to finish the outdoor decorations in an hour.”

  Uh-huh. Sure. Rose really wanted to finish the decorations. Her text had nothing to do with trying to devise a way for Dahlia to spend time with Ike.

  “But Dahlia loves music, don’t you?” Her younger sister didn’t give her a chance to answer. “She was always going to concerts when we were younger.”

  Was she? Interesting. Dahlia didn’t remember going to that many concerts. “Uh…”

  “Well I don’t know how good the concert will be,” Ike said with a laugh. “Poor old Clyde is a patient of mine. I’d call his sound…” He paused as though searching for the right word. “Eclectic.”

  “It sounds fun, but I have a lot to do here, I’m afraid.” Dahlia’s jaw tightened around the words. She wasn’t about to let Rose force her to go out on a date with this man. She’d go on a date when she was good and ready. Maybe. Probably…

  “What do you have to do around here?” Mags asked, calling her out. “You’ve already cleaned out every room in Aunt Sassy’s house.”

  “Not every room.” Mags was as bad as Rose. “I still haven’t even been in Sassy’s master bedroom.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what a mess that was if the office had been any indication.

  “Well it might be good for you to take a break,” Rose said with a harrumph.

  “You work too hard,” Ike agreed.

  Yes, she worked too hard. Because work wasn’t complicated. Work was familiar. Work was distracting in the best way. If she worked she didn’t have to try to navigate this attraction she felt to a man she’d only just met. She didn’t have to think about what to say to him. Heck, she didn’t have to talk to him at all if she worked.

  “It’ll be fun,” he said. “I promise.”

  In desperation, Dahlia turned to Mags. Mags who’d always been the one she’d gone to with boy trouble or friend drama. This qualified as a sister emergency. “I suppose we can go.” She couldn’t do it alone, but if her sister came, there wouldn’t be the pressure of a date lingering over her. She let her ey
es plead with Mags.

  “I’d love to go.” Dahlia was likely the only one who noticed Mags’s lengthy sigh. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to an eclectic concert. I guess my nap can wait.”

  “Yes, it can.” Dahlia half hugged her sister. “We’ll have a great time.” This would be much better than her sister sleeping away the afternoon. With everything she’d been through lately, Mags could surely use an afternoon out. And Dahlia could use the moral support.

  “Great.” The man held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  He obviously meant it as a casual gesture, but that didn’t stop Dahlia’s heart rate from spiking. “Sure. Yeah. Let’s go.” She scampered out the door and into the snow, hoping the chill would snuff out the blush on her cheeks. What was it about Ike that made her feel so unsteady?

  She didn’t have time to figure it out before he led the way to his truck. Dahlia made sure to climb into the backseat of the extended cab before Mags could. Her sister gave her a look on her way past the window, as though she knew exactly why Dahlia had literally taken a backseat in this scenario.

  What could she say? Small talk had never been one of her skills with a regular person. Throw a good-looking, incredibly charming man into the mix, and she was at a complete loss. Luckily, Mags never seemed to be at a loss for words.

  “So, Ike,” her sister began as he put the truck into gear. “You’re a doctor, huh?”

  “Last time I checked.”

  She couldn’t see his face at the moment, but Dahlia could hear his grin.

  “You must be staying pretty busy this season.” Mags groaned. “I swear, I feel like I’ve been fighting off some weird flu since I got into town.”

  “Actually, it’s been a pretty light flu season so far.” He turned to glance at Mags as though giving her a quick assessment. “Maybe you should come into the clinic, get checked out.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Her sister waved off the concern. “I’ve just been tired and queasy. Must’ve picked up some kind of stomach bug on the flight here.”