Wade straightened up again. “Or what? Your city boy will come pick a fight?”
“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me.”
“You always were a big talker,” he snorted.
“And you always were a sore loser.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “All things considered, I’d say I dodged a bullet that day in Twin Falls,” he said coolly.
She gave a startled gasp as the sting of those words hit and for a brief second, something like remorse flashed in his brown eyes. Then it was gone, the look of frigid detachment back in place.
“What is your problem?”
“Right now? You.”
“I don’t need this. I wanted to make peace, but you’re acting like a jerk, so good riddance.”
She whirled toward the door, blinded by angry tears. She had forgotten the ice and when she hit it, she slipped. Her feet shot out from under her and she sat down hard on the concrete.
They stared at each other for a moment in stunned silence then Wade shrugged.
“Shoulda used the ice melt.”
She glared at him and scrambled to her feet. With as much poise as she could muster, she walked out, leaving the door open. Maybe the freezing air would give him pneumonia. He deserved it.
April slammed her way into the kitchen. Scott sat at the table, his computer open before him and a plate of toast at his elbow. He gave her a long, speculative look.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said shortly.
“Where have you been?”
“Outside.” She yanked off her gloves and threw them toward the mudroom, but came up short. With a growl of frustration, she stomped over to the gloves, snatched them up off the floor, and hurled them through the doorway. Gloves, she realized, were not very good for throwing in a fit of temper. They just flopped around and offered no satisfying thud when they landed.
“Why are you so upset?” Scott asked.
“I’m just mad,” she stalked back to the kitchen and glared out the window toward the horse barn. “He’s acting like such a … such a jerk! I never thought he would treat me that way. Ever.”
Scott gave a long sigh. “And here we are again, back to the ex-boyfriend,” he muttered.
His words made her pause. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I wasn’t prepared to see him again. Old history is coming up and it’s stuff I’d rather forget.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Scott said. “Ever since we got here you’ve been acting … different. I can’t decide if it’s Christmas, the farm, the ex-boyfriend, or maybe all three. But there’s something going on.”
“No, there’s not. It’s stress,” she bit her thumbnail. She couldn’t let Scott see how much Wade had bothered her. It would raise questions she was not ready to deal with. More tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back.
“Come here,” Scott held out his arms.
She sat on his knee and let him rub her back, but her mind was churning. An entire week until her parents got home meant and entire week of Wade coming over morning and night. How would she ever make it that long?
Chapter Five
“WE ARE ENTERING THE GINGERBREAD house contest,” April announced over lunch that day. She needed a distraction.
“Really?” Emily squealed. She pestered every year to enter the contest, but no one else was ever interested in helping her labor over a gingerbread house for hours.
“Sure,” April smiled at her excitement. “Let’s get the dishes cleared and we can start planning.”
Trevor tried to pretend he was too cool for something as silly as a gingerbread house, but after a while, his interest grew and it wasn’t long before he was hunched over the kitchen counter with April and Emily, giving input. “We should get some of those frosted shredded wheat things to make a thatched roof,” he suggested.
“Good idea,” April wrote it on her shopping list.
“Gumdrops,” Emily added. “The good ones, not the yucky spice ones.”
“Who cares? You’re not supposed to eat them,” Trevor pointed out.
“Non-yucky gumdrops,” April winked at her younger sister before adding it to the list. She turned to Ben, who was in his wheelchair nearby, busy with a therapy toy.
“What do you think Benny? Wanna help?”
He grinned.
“Hey Scott, how do you like my plan?” Emily held up her drawing. It was an enormous castle with a moat, arched windows, turrets, and even a princess leaning out of a tower. Her grocery list included ice cream cones, sugar cubes, licorice, and lots and lots of blue m&ms for the moat. There had already been a heated argument between Emily and Trevor on whether a Barbie could stand in for the princess or if all the elements had to be edible.
Scott looked up from his computer and whistled. “Pretty fancy. Will it be big enough for a Barbie?”
“She won’t get to use one anyway,” Trevor insisted. “She’ll get disqualified.”
“No, I won’t,” Emily said stubbornly. “Tell him, April.”
“I’m really not sure, Em,” April hedged. “Maybe we can call Paisley; she’s in charge this year.”
“It’s going to be so cool,” Emily’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t forget the cookies for the drawbridge,” she told April.
They went over the list one more time and April tore the paper from the notebook. “Want to come shopping with me, Scott?” She stood behind him and ran her fingers under the collar of his shirt.
He captured her hand and kissed her palm. “I’d better stay; I need to finish this chapter.”
“Okay. Can I take your car?”
She felt him tense. “What’s wrong with the van?”
“It’s kind of big and …” April faltered. “Never mind. Forget it,” she said quickly.
He turned back to his work. “Be safe.”
April moved slowly up and down the aisles at Dove’s, gathering the supplies on the list and stopping for a few minutes of small talk with people she knew. The store wasn’t particularly crowded, but even so, she was surprised by all the strange faces. Once she’d known almost everyone in town. Of course, many of the shoppers were probably tourists. The thought made her feel better, like she hadn’t strayed too far from home.
The checkout clerk had bright red hair from a bottle and was wearing too much makeup. It took April a minute to recognize her.
“Tracie?”
They were classmates, but not friends. During their senior year, Tracie had made a play for Wade and her tactics included showing up uninvited to his house, grabbing the seat next to him at lunch, and flirting with him constantly. April knew Wade’s heart and wasn’t worried. Still, Tracie quickly became irritating. There were never any direct confrontations between them, but always an undercurrent of resentment and annoyance coming from both sides.
“Hey, April,” Tracie said in a bored and faintly chilly tone. “Home for Christmas, I guess?”
“Yes, and Emily talked me into doing a gingerbread house,” April gestured to the full basket on the conveyer belt.
Tracie began pulling items out of the basket. “I heard you got engaged,” she said, as she dragged the groceries across the scanner. “When’s the big day?”
“In the spring.” April regretted buying so much stuff; this would take forever. She did not want to stand around making small talk with Tracie Brandenberg. “So, what have you been up to?” she finally asked.
“The usual,” Tracie shrugged. “Working a lot.” She paused and then continued with a small smirk. “Wade and I are going out; I don’t know if you heard.”
April digested this news. He was seeing Tracie Brandenberg? Well, it didn’t matter. He could see whoever he wanted.
But … Tracie Brandenberg?
“Oh,” she found her voice. “I didn’t know you two were a couple.”
Tracie slid a package of rainbow sprinkles slowly over the scanner. “Yep. For a while now.”
Why did her che
st suddenly feel so tight? April couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she stood in awkward silence while Tracie finished ringing up her groceries. It seemed like an eternity before everything was bagged.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” April said, taking her receipt. Miraculously, her voice was steady.
“Yep, see ya,” Tracie turned to her next customer.
April heaved the bags into the van and stomped around to climb in the driver’s side. She sat for a while in silence.
Tracie Brandenberg?
How did that happen?
She couldn’t imagine a more unlikely pairing. Tracie was moody and immature and … okay, maybe that was her prejudices talking. Still, despite all of Tracie’s efforts, Wade had never shown the slightest interest in her. In high school he had thought her shallow; April couldn’t imagine Tracie had improved much with age.
“They’ll make each other miserable,” she muttered.
Good.
They were forced to revise the grand castle design after April burned two batches of gingerbread because she’d rolled them too thin and they broke. And then they had to revise again when she ruined a third batch because this time she didn’t roll it thin enough and it wouldn’t dry.
“Forget this. We’ll use graham crackers,” April snapped as she scraped the third batch of failed gingerbread off the cookie sheet with a spatula.
“Don’t throw it away,” Trevor reached over and grabbed a piece. “You want some, Ben?”
“Don’t give him that,” April said quickly. “He’ll choke.”
Trevor leaned in close to Ben to whisper loudly, “You’re not missing much, it’s kinda gross.”
“And yet you’re still eating it,” April pointed out.
“Isn’t it a gingerbread contest?” Scott popped a gumdrop into his mouth. “Will graham crackers count? Good job on getting non-yucky gumdrops, by the way,” he winked.
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” April said to Emily. “I tried.”
“You never know. Let’s make it anyway … please?” Emily begged.
They spent the next three hours painstakingly constructing a graham cracker cottage on an upside down cookie sheet. April did her best to make it fancy with a slanted roof covered in the frosted shredded wheat with mini m&ms in the icing along the edge for Christmas lights. Trevor got bored and took Ben to watch TV while April painstakingly made frosting icicles and Emily did a mosaic sidewalk out of Skittles. When they’d finally finished, April’s hand ached from squeezing the piping bag and she had a headache from eating too much sugar. The kitchen was a disaster.
But it was a pretty good effort. True, the walls were a little crooked and the frosting was rather heavy in places, but Emily was happy and that’s what mattered.
“Are you really going to enter it?” Scott asked, eying the final product.
“Yes, we are,” April shot him a warning look. Emily had talked nonstop about how the judges would love the house, graham crackers and all. There was no way April would let Scott dampen her enthusiasm.
“I just wondered if it will qualify,” he said, backpedaling quickly.
“If they don’t like it, they don’t have to judge it,” April declared. “We worked hard; it’s going to the contest.”
Chapter Six
APRIL ROLLED HER EYES AS SHE pulled the van into the parking lot at the elementary school the next morning. Whoever was on plow duty had pushed the snow into piles at the head of the parking spaces, forming dirty, knee-high banks they’d have to scale to reach the sidewalk.
“Wait until I come help you,” she ordered Emily, who held the graham cracker house on her lap.
“I can do it,” Emily said. She threw the door open and slid out of her seat.
“You’re going to drop it,” April warned. She jumped down from the van and began plowing through the deep snow.
“I’ve got it,” Emily insisted. She backed into the car door to close it and started toward the school, her eyes fixed on the cookie sheet.
Watch out, Em,” April cried, but it was too late. Emily tripped in the snow and stumbled. She let out a shriek of dismay as the cookie sheet slipped from her grasp.
“Oops, hang on there!” Wade came out of nowhere. He grabbed Emily’s arm with one hand and the cookie sheet with the other, steadying them both.
“Wade!” Emily’s face lit up. “Thanks, you saved my life.”
He laughed. “Well, maybe not quite, but it does look like I saved a pretty cool gingerbread house.” He glanced over at April and then turned his attention back to Emily. “Did you build this?”
“Me and April,” Emily confirmed. “It’s graham crackers though, not gingerbread. It was supposed to be gingerbread, but April kept messing it up.”
April blushed as Wade met her eyes. His expression was softer, warmer than yesterday; he looked more like the Wade she knew. She felt her pulse quicken.
No, he was a First Class Idiot. “Come on, Emily,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”
Wade waited until she made it through the snowbank. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his tone indicating he was apologizing for more than just yesterday.
His eyes were a deep chocolate brown and his lashes were ridiculously long for a man. April felt her resolve crumbling.
No way. He did not get to do this. He did not get to treat her like dirt and then stand there with his adorably disheveled hair and his dancing eyes and his sexy grin and expect her to forgive him on the spot. He could pound sand.
Hang on … did she just admit Wade had a sexy grin?
Well, of course he did, but that didn’t matter anymore.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she marched toward the school.
He fell in beside her. “Yes, you do.”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Okay, I was a jerk. I’m sorry.”
April opened one of the double glass doors and motioned for Emily to go inside. Wade stretched one hand above her head and grabbed the door to hold it for her and when she got a whiff of his cologne, she felt butterflies stretch their wings in her stomach.
She glared at him, stepped deliberately to the other glass door, pulled it open, and walked through. She heard him chuckle softly as he followed her inside.
“You can leave,” she hissed.
“Yeah, I could,” he admitted. “But I could also stay.”
A folding table covered with clipboards and a flowerpot full of pens was set up in front of the office. Mrs. Leland sat behind it, knitting something and wearing the air of someone who is in charge. The cookie decorating fundraiser would be held at the same time as the gingerbread house contest and prep noise drifted down the hall from the gym. The clang of folding tables opening, the scrape of chairs, the low murmur of voices. Paisley was probably in there directing things.
“You have an entry?” Mrs. Leland asked – a bit needlessly since they obviously had an entry.
“Yep,” Emily said proudly as she placed the cookie sheet carefully onto the table.
“There’s a $15 entry fee and you’ll need to fill out this form,” Mrs. Leland extended a clipboard with a sheet of paper attached.
“I’ll take it,” April said, extremely conscious of Wade standing beside her. “Em, why don’t you take that into the teacher’s lounge and find a spot for it?”
Emily left with the gingerbread house and April took her clipboard to the row of folding chairs against the wall. She hoped Wade would get the hint and leave, but he threw himself into the chair by her side.
Stupid cologne. Why did he have to smell so good? Wasn’t he a farmer? He was supposed to smell like cows or pigs or … something.
She did her best to ignore him and began filling out the form, scratching the cheap ballpoint pen rapidly over the paper.
“We’re both acting ridiculous,” Wade said in a low voice.
“Oh really, Mr. Shoulda used the Ice Melt?” she singsonged in a fierce whisper.
“Okay, that was low,”
he admitted. “But, I said I was sorry. And I am sorry. I was angry.”
“I thought you said you weren’t angry.”
“I lied.”
He wore a faded plaid shirt and jeans so old that the denim had turned buttery soft. She could see a flash of skin where his knee was starting to poke through a hole.
Okay, she should not be staring at Wade’s knees, or at the ropy muscles in his tanned forearm below the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. She yanked her attention back to the form and saw him grin from the corner of her eye. He knew the effect he was having on her and enjoyed it immensely.
“What are you even doing here?” April demanded. “Don’t tell me you’re entering the contest.”
“Paisley called and asked if I could bring some extra tables from the church over in my truck,” Wade said. “I was leaving when I saw you drive up.”
She tried to find something wrong with that and couldn’t, so she stayed quiet and went back to the clipboard.
Wade’s chair squeaked as he leaned closer and whispered, “Remember when we had the marker fight and Mrs. Snow made us sit in the hall?” His breath was warm on her neck and goose bumps broke out on her arms.
Stupid goose bumps. She shifted away from him and tried to concentrate on the form. Why was this dumb thing so long anyway? It was just a dinky contest in a dinky town in Montana. She vowed to find Paisley and let her have it.
“We sat right over there,” Wade pointed. “And Mrs. Snow left us for an hour.”
April’s hands were shaking and she gripped the pen tighter.
“But it was fun because I had gum and you had a Tamagotchi and we spent the whole time trying to kill it,” Wade continued. “Remember?”
She remembered. Sitting under the coat rack with Wade, webs of multicolored ink staining their arms and faces. They chewed Juicyfruit while they traded the Tamagotchi back and forth and shushed each other when their giggling got too loud.
Wade was silent, waiting for her to jump into the memory. If she did, would it mean she forgave him? Did it mean he forgave her?
Christmas in Snow Valley Page 17
