“He wasn’t impressed?”
“No. He loved everything. He just didn’t love me.” She dapped at her eye with a knuckle.
His knitted his brows together, trying to understand. “What do you mean he didn’t love you?”
She took a sip of her cider and cleared her throat before she continued. “The next morning Sweet Grass was in The Charleston Times twice. The fire was on the front page and his critique of Sweet Grass was on the first page of the entertainment section. He gave me, us, four and a half stars. He reported Sweet Grass was exquisite, the service was outstanding, and the food exceptional. We were worth checking out over the holiday season, but he thought the owner should care enough about her customers to interact with them.”
Dylan dropped back on the couch. She thought she wasn’t perfect.
“I was so nervous when he came in I stayed in the background making sure everything was perfect. I knew he liked to be mollycoddled by the owners of the restaurants he visited. I was just so nervous. I did greet him at the door as he was leaving. Do you want to know what he said to me?”
It wasn’t good, that much he knew by looking at the pain etched in Darcy face. He nodded.
“He said, ‘a personality was the only missing ingredient tonight, Ms. Witherspoon. I will be kind.’ I went into the ladies room and threw up the moment he stepped outside, and I stayed in my office the rest of the night, hiding.”
Dylan pushed off the couch and gathered her into his arms and held her as tears streamed down her face. He wished he could make her feel better, but how? He couldn’t turn back time. “I’m sorry.”
The front door opened up and a cold blast of air swept across the floor. Dylan looked up and mumbled against Darcy’s hair, “Oh, crap.”
Chapter Seven
Dylan’s fingers curled into her sweater and pressed against her skin. Darcy’s soft hair brushed against his cheek as she turned her head in the direction he looked.
With her mouth slightly agape and twinkle in her eyes, his mother reached under her woven cape edged with tassels, removed a knapsack from her shoulder and lowered the sack to the floor. Her long, fawn-colored braid fell forward over her shoulder. She stood and tossed it back and smoothed long fingers along her head as if checking for any strands out of place.
“Well, well. Look what we have here, Lilac,” his father said. He sported a suede hip-length coat whose fringe had seen much better days, maybe decades ago. A worn leather cowboy hat perched on his head. Lennon sunglasses rested on his long thin nose.
They both wore faded blue jeans and moccasin style boots that covered their calves.
Feeling like a high school kid caught necking with his girlfriend, Dylan jumped to his stocking feet and Darcy fell back, catching herself with outstretched arms.
“Mom. Dad. What are you doing here?” He stumbled over the words. “Yesterday, when you called, you were halfway across the country.”
“We thought we’d surprised you.” His mother stepped forward, smiling. “We drove all night.”
“Mission accomplished.” He accepted his mother’s hug.
“And who do we have here,” his father asked, dropping his knapsack to the hardwood floor with a thud.
Dylan spun around in time to see Darcy scramble to her feet and quickly extended his hand to steady her. He apologized in volumes with his eyes for what was about to happen and hoped she’d accept them. “This is Darcy Witherspoon.”
“Why haven’t we heard about you before?” Mom extended her hand to Darcy.
“We just met,” Dylan offered.
“I ah…Hello,” Darcy smiled.
Mom had a strong grip. He saw Darcy wince slightly while accepting the older woman’s greeting.
“Oh, Gray, listen to that accent. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, hon?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m from Charleston, South Carolina.”
“Oh, we love Charleston. Over the years, we’ve joined a few protests that were held there.”
“So you just met,” his father said. “That means you must be a guest of the ski lodge. Another slope—”
Dylan stuck his finger in the air. “Dad, don’t say it.”
The older Kincaid’s brow shot up above his wire frames. “What? I was going to say slope enthusiast.”
Dylan closed his eyes to a laser-thin squint, and stared his father down, praying he wouldn’t embarrass him further.
Gray chuckled. “Lighten up, kid.” He stuck his hand out to Darcy. “So you met my son on the mountain. He’s a good skier. He had boards on his feet a month after he started to walk.”
“No. I don’t ski.” She smiled at his father.
“Darcy is a friend of Tom Angleman’s,” Dylan said, stepping closer to her side.
“She’s his friend and yet she’s here with you?” Gray’s lips thinned and he blew out low whistle while wiggling a finger at the spot on the floor where they’d been found seemingly cuddling.
“It’s not like that.” Dylan shook his head. “I was consoling her.”
“Oh, no. That doesn’t sound good.” His mother’s expression tightened with concern. “Did Tom breakup with you? Come here, you poor thing.”
“No poor thing.” Dylan waved off the notion. He glanced at Darcy and saw a mixture of sadness and amusement in her eyes. How that was possible he had no idea. Maybe she was about to lose her composure again. “Well, yes poor thing, but it’s not what you think.”
“You piqued my interest.” Gray stepped back to the foyer, removed his hat and hung it on the coat rack. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook before smoothing a hand over his salt-and-pepper hair and straightening his own thin braid.
“Darcy is Tom’s friend from culinary school. She came to visit him for the holiday and offered to help me decorate the house for Christmas.”
Lilac’s eyes lit up. “That’s very nice of you. So you’re a chef.”
Darcy nodded, lifting the hem of her knit sweater and stuffing her hands into her front jean pockets.
Gray moved his finger in mid-air from point A to point B. “I don’t get the poor part in that explanation.”
Dylan looked down at her and again apologized profusely with his gaze for the inquiry.
She swiped a finger under her nose. “I lost my business to a fire last week,” she confessed.
He guessed she’d decided to tell her story so they could deal with his parents’ reaction and move on.
“Oh, you poor, poor child.” Lilac wrapped her arms around Darcy and squeezed her before holding her at arm’s length. “It’s only material things. It can all be replaced. What’s important is no one was hurt.” Lilac blinked. “No one was hurt, were they?”
“No.” Darcy’s auburn locks shimmered in the daylight streaming through the living room window as she nodded. Catching his supportive gaze, she lifted her chin a little higher and kept her tone controlled. “It happened very late at night. We were closed for a couple of hours when the fire broke out.”
“Thank the good spirits for that.” Mom patted Darcy’s forearm and then stepped back and slowly circled the room, inspecting the decorations.
“Yes, very lucky,” Gray said. “Someone was watching over you.”
Dylan rolled his eyes at Darcy and she smiled openly at his father. “Yes. Good spirits. Indeed.”
Coming up beside him, Mom laid her sheepskin-lined flock over the chair. Her hands landed on her trim hips and she surveyed the room one more time before crossing to the fireplace where she fingered a snowflake. “The house looks different.”
“Yes,” Dylan responded, proud of the work they’d accomplished in a few hours. “Darcy helped me this morning. We were just taking a lunch break before we finish up.”
“Very nice, but where are the angels I carved for Elizabeth? She always puts them on the mantle.”
“I believe Darcy used them in the dining room.”
“Yes. I did.”
“But they go on the mantle. J
illian and Katy will expect to see them there.” His mother whisked by them and headed toward the dining room. “It’s a tradition.”
The twinkle in Darcy’s eyes faded.
“Mom, wait,” he called after her, heaving a sigh. He hurried around the coffee table. “I’m sure the girls are not going to be upset on where your angels are set. They’re just going to be happy there are decorations.”
“True.” His mother came back into the room and almost collided with him. Her arms were securely linked around the eighteen-inch-high oak carved angels like they were valuable treasure. “But just in case, let’s put them on the mantle where they belong. That way there are no worries. You don’t mind if I rearrange things just a little, do you, Darcy?”
“Mom, please. The mantle is fine.”
“Fine?” Darcy stared up at him, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.
“No. I mean it’s great. It’s perfect.” What the hell was happening? He grabbed Darcy’s soft hand. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Lilac said as she spread the greens on the mantle and maneuvered the base of an angel between them. “It’s not Darcy’s fault she didn’t know our tradition.”
“What about the outside? I see you strung a line of lights across the railing, but the whole house needs to be done,” Gray piped up, breaking into the conversation. He rounded the coffee table, plucked a chip from the bowl Dylan had brought in with the sandwiches, and popped the snack into his mouth. “Bob usually had the place lit up like a launch pad the weekend after Thanksgiving. Is there anymore egg salad?”
“I’ve been a little busy, Dad.” Anger, hurt and a whole ball of emotions rolled in his gut as Dylan turned to face his father. “Darcy and I were going to do start outside after we ate our lunch. I want to surprise the girls when they get off the bus today.”
“Maybe I should go,” Darcy started around him and he grabbed her hand, stopping her. Only a few minutes ago, he’d felt happy and finally in control of Christmas, but now… He almost wished the damn holiday was over, but then that would mean Darcy would go back to South Carolina and he didn’t want to lose her company so soon.
“No. You stay. Mom and Dad,” he said, probably louder than necessary. Both parents’ stopped in motion—Mom about to place the second angel and Dad about to pop another chip into his mouth.
He drew in a deep breath and counted to five before asking, “Are you staying for Christmas?”
“Yes. We want to be here for the girls,” his mother said.
“That and there’s a town meeting on Thursday night,” his father added. “The last of the year. The council will be voting on Joe Marshal’s proposal to allow his cows to graze freely on the county land out on Blueberry Road. The county wouldn’t have to pay someone to mow it. And Harold Decker wants to build a boat launch on the north side of the lake. Peters on the council seems to have a problem with that. So we thought we’d come and support Harold too. All he wants to do is be able to get into his row boat when he gets to be seventy, which is not far off, and do a little fishing.”
“Fine.” Dylan raised a hand, cutting his father off. “Where are you going to stay? Here or at the house, my place?”
“I thought we’d stay here in the guest room, so we could help with the girls,” his mother said.
“Where’s the tree?” Dad munched.
“We’re going out Saturday to cut it down.”
“Cutting it close to Christmas. That is only three days before.”
“Oh, Gray. Some people put their trees up on Christmas Eve,” Mom replied, fluffing the greens. “Darcy, do you mind if I move a few of these snowflakes?”
“No. Not at all.” She minded. He could feel the tension in her hand, which he still held.
“We did that one year, Gray, remember?” His mother continued.
“We had a puddle of water on the floor from the snow melting off the branches. Shorted out the lights too. We better get the tree earlier. If you don’t have time, I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“No. The girls and I already planned to get it Saturday. We’re making a big day of it. Darcy is coming with us.”
“I am?”
“Yes, remember? We talked about it at lunch yesterday.”
“Oh, right,” she said, picking up on his lead.
“We’re going for the tree and then while it’s drying, I’m taking Darcy and the girls snow tubing. After we have dinner, we’re going to decorate the tree. We have a whole day planned. Right?” He looked down at Darcy with pleading eyes, hoping she’d go along with every word he said.
“Okay, if you have it all planned, I’ll spend the day catching up with Harold and a few of the guys.”
“Well, it sounds like a fun day. I’ll tag along,” Mom said.
He wrapped his arm around Darcy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Actually, we sort of wanted to spend some time together, Mom.”
“But I thought—”
“Mom.” He cocked an eyebrow and darted his eyes sideways toward Darcy without moving his head as if he was including her in his plan.
“Oh, right.” She snapped her fingers. “I wanted to catch up with the ladies at the church anyway. I’m sure they’re busy preparing food baskets for the needy families in the area.”
Relief washed through him. Having the girls around while he spent time with Darcy was one thing, but his parents were a totally different story. The girls wouldn’t watch his every move, hoping that Darcy might be the perfect woman for him. And Jillian and Kathy took naps and went to bed early. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your help, Mom.”
“Lilac, I’m starved.” Gray finished off the chips and brushed his hands together. “Let’s go make a bite and then I’ll unload what you need out of the van. Then while you get us settled in, I’ll help Dylan with the outdoor lights.”
“Fine.”
The moment they exited the room, Dylan turned to Darcy. “I’m sorry about that.”
Darcy shrugged. “No need to apologize, but maybe you should take me back to Tom’s. I feel like I’m imposing.”
“You’d really let me here alone with them?”
She laughed at his mocked expression of terror. “They’re your parents.”
“Exactly.”
“You’ll be alone with them sometime.”
“Not if I can help it.” He stepped closer and inhaled her sweet scent. “Please stay.”
“Your mom doesn’t like my decorating.”
“That’s not true. I really think she’s impressed with what you’ve done.” He surveyed the foyer and living room. “She just wanted her angels on the mantle. She is all about tradition. And to be honest, she places those angles on the mantle every year, not Elizabeth. It’s a thing with her. Please, I don’t want you to go. I want the girls to meet you.”
She really didn’t want her time with him to end, but… “You do?”
He traced a finger along her jaw, sending tingles down her spine. “Yeah. I do.”
Darcy’s heart caught at his words. She liked this guy. She’d be lying to herself if she thought otherwise. Was she setting herself up for heartache by spending more time with him?
Not if she kept in mind that he already said just “friends”. The relationship wasn’t going any further. She had her life waiting for her and in ten days she’d be gone from this mountain top.
She rubbed her jaw line, erasing the memory of his touch. “Okay. I’ll stay for a little while longer.”
Three hours later, Darcy stood in a foot of snow, holding the final string of lights Dylan needed to string on the fifteen-foot evergreen tree that stood off the corner of the house. Gray Kincaid stood off to her side instructing Dylan as to where every bulb should be hooked onto the branches.
Dylan’s jaw tightened as his father barked, “Wrong branch. The one of above it.”
Once the lights were strung, Dylan climbed down the extension ladder. Gray took charge of the ladder from there, carrying it off
to the tool shed.
“Your dad is a little OCD when it comes to Christmas lights. Is he that way with your brother?”
“Yeah. That’s why Bob hangs the lights the day after Thanksgiving. Dad is all about celebrating the holidays and usually he sleeps his turkey dinner off on Black Friday. I thought I had time to get them hung.”
Darcy couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped her. “I get it.”
Bob had wired an outdoor outlet for the specific purpose of powering outdoor lighting and landscaping maintenance tools. Dylan plugged the lights into the extension cord he’d run from that box.
“That does it.” He stood with his hands on his hips, staring up at the tree. The lights were barely visible in the daylight that filtered through overcast skies. “Everything is done.”
He turned his face down to her. His chocolate eyes sparkled with happiness and his cheeks, blushed with cold, puffed up above his whiskers. She fought the urge to pluck the piece of pine from the worn knitted cap he wore. Touching him in any way was a real strain on her willpower. “We made it.”
“Just in time.” He pointed toward the driveway. “Here come the girls.”
Lilac Kincaid drove her and Gray’s multi-colored van toward them, having met the girls at the lane’s end. Inside, on the passenger seat, two heads at different levels were visible above the dashboard.
Suddenly, Darcy’s palms started to sweat inside her gloves and she hooked a finger into the scarf surrounding her neck and tugged, giving her throat room to swallow. Children immediately either liked you or they didn’t. She wanted the girls to like her.
“Grandpa,” the girls shouted in unison as they jumped from the van, leaving the door ajar. The pair ran toward Gray who was rounding the corner of the house and plowed into him, nearly sending backwards into the snow. “We missed you. Can you take us for a snowmobile ride? Uncle Dylan never has time to take us. Please. Please.”
Gray chuckled hardly. “Have you been good girls about doing your homework?”
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