by Kim Watters
He lifted his hand as if to touch her face but let it drop loosely to his side. More words hovered on his lips, but no sound came out. In his expression, she saw her own horrors and found herself in his arms.
She did know that, but it still didn’t make it right. All she knew was that she needed to allow herself to grieve and work through Jared’s death, but she couldn’t. Not with the knowledge she held inside her. Clinging to Ethan’s shirt, her fingers clawed at the flannel fabric. His warm embrace cocooned her, made her feel almost complete again, which confused her even more. Tears spilled down her cheeks and saturated the red-checked cloth as she tried to purge herself and let go. “I still don’t understand. Why did he have to die on me?”
“I don’t have an answer for that. Only God does.” Ethan’s fingers rubbed the small of her back, trying to massage away her pain. It felt right holding her in his arms, right to lean his cheek against the crown of her head, right to whisper words of encouragement and forgiveness in the still air around them.
She raised her head, her eyes full of tears and a remorse that sucker-punched him in the gut. There was no denying it now. Somewhere, somehow, he’d fallen for Jared’s widow.
“I was driving that night. I killed him.”
He stiffened at her words and understood the responsibility weighing on her. They both had been put in positions that had resulted in horrible outcomes. The nightmares of what happened in Afghanistan hadn’t decreased, and each night the images of his friends and colleagues, their faces frozen in motion at the time of the blast, lingered in the deep recesses of his brain. What images of that night tortured Holly? Could he make them go away?
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Quit beating yourself up over what can’t be changed.” He should listen to his own advice.
He stared down at Holly’s tearstained face, sensed her vulnerability and her despair. It matched his own. Two lonely people, struggling with the knowledge that their actions had caused other people to lose their lives. It was a heavy guilt to bear. After wiping the tears from her cheeks, his hands cupped the sides of her face.
In a trance, he leaned down and gently kissed her lips, as if he could wipe away the pain of her loss and maybe lose some of it himself. He had to let her know she wasn’t alone anymore, unable to share her burden. He deepened the kiss, trying to purge not only her memories but his own, as well. His heart pounded, crashing against his rib cage, unused to his reaction to Holly. She made him feel alive again. Whole. Ready to let go of his past and embrace whatever the future held in store for him.
Holly trembled and returned his touch, her soft gasps encouraging him to deepen the embrace. Her fingers laced through his hair, pulling him closer. It all felt so right, holding her, kissing her, creating a new bond between them that had nothing to do with Cameron. His heart lightened.
A few moments later, she stiffened and pulled away, her fingers covering her lips. Her flush disappeared, the white a contrast to the dark wood-stained shelves lining the walls. More tears filled her eyes, twisting his gut so that it resembled the mass of wood shavings piled on the floor. “No, I can’t do this. Just go. Go away and leave me alone.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” But was he really sorry? He’d be lying if he said that the kiss had no effect on him, because it was more than just a physical reaction. Confusion coiled inside him like a snake ready to strike. What he’d just done was wrong, and Holly was paying the price.
“I am sorry, Holly. I’ll go now.” Ethan scraped his fingers through his hair, his voice scratchy with emotion and remorse. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her. He’d overstepped his bounds. In the shadows clinging to the back corners of the shop, voiceless faces stared back at him: Jared, the pastor, his men, and the woman and child he should have protected. Until both he and Holly could come to terms with their loss, neither one was free to move on.
* * *
After Ethan left the shed, Holly sank to the floor, a sob managing to escape from her throat. What had just happened? Ethan had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. She’d done nothing to stop him, instead encouraging him to deepen the embrace. She’d kissed another man. Kristen would be happy. Holly was miserable.
And it wasn’t because she didn’t enjoy it. It was because she did.
She’d ignored her promise to Jared.
She fingered the wooden whistle attached to her key chain that Jared had carved for her their first Christmas together. The anniversary of his death, the death of their dream and their second child, hung heavily in the air.
Would she ever find peace or forgiveness?
Lord, I’m so confused. I don’t understand what You want from me. What is Your will? What do I need to do?
Only silence surrounded her in the warm, almost suffocating air. Answer me. Please.
No response, but what had she really expected? God hadn’t answered her in her darkest hours after Jared’s death or her miscarriage. He didn’t answer her now, which made her struggle. If God existed, why did He allow such pain and suffering? Why did He call some people home and leave others behind? Yet how could she account for the miracle of birth or the beauty surrounding her? Or how sometimes in the stillness of the morning and again at night she could almost feel a comforting presence wrapping around her? But why didn’t He answer now when she needed Him?
More pain sliced through her midsection, making her relive the agony of that night in the hospital. She’d known her husband was dead, that she’d killed him, and that she’d also killed their unborn child, Olivia.
More alone than ever, Holly pulled herself up off the floor, stumbled to the door and across the brown grass to the back porch. From her vantage point, she could see that only her car was parked in the driveway. A momentary relief filled her. Ethan had left, but had he taken Cam with him?
Cameron. He’d never seen that emotional side to her before because she’d always managed to hide it behind closed doors. Her nails dug into her palms and her teeth worried her bottom lip. A different anxiety emerged. The back door banged open when she pushed on it. The loud thump resounded in the dim kitchen. “Cameron?”
No answer.
She sped through the house searching for her son, even going as far as to look under his bed. Only Figaro’s golden eyes stared back at her. Sitting back on her heels, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed Ethan, tapping her foot impatiently until he picked up on the third ring. “Is Cameron with you?”
“He is. I figured you needed some time.”
Holly clutched the phone. “Thanks.”
“Would you like to talk to him? Here.”
Holly heard Ethan transfer the phone. Soon her son’s breathing filled her ear, but no words accompanied it. Her stomach clenched and pain stabbed her behind her eyes. She’d messed up big-time and her son had paid the price. More emotion covered her like an unwelcome blanket. “I’m so sorry, Cam. I overreacted. We’ll talk about it later, okay? I love you.”
It took him a few heartbeats to respond. “I love you more.”
“I love you most. I’ll see you at five, okay?”
“Bye, Mom.” He disconnected the phone.
“Bye, Cam. I’m so sorry.” Her words shattered the stillness inside the room. Cameron had been terrified by her reaction. All he’d wanted to do was make something with his father’s tools. He had every right to. She grabbed a T-shirt lying outside the hamper and pressed it against her face.
Ethan was right. It was what Jared would have wanted. But maybe it wasn’t that her son was using the tools, but Ethan himself.
He’d made himself a part of their lives, first by helping out with Cameron and then by kissing Holly. Her fear grew. Ethan was taking over Jared’s place. She tried to picture her late husband in her mind’s eye, but Ethan’s face surfaced. Wiping away her tears blurred the image like
a Picasso, but the pieces remained even after she opened her eyes and dropped Cameron’s shirt into the hamper.
She’d get through this. She had to.
More shadows crept into Cameron’s room. Holly walked to the window and gazed outside. The dark clouds emerging from the west matched her mood. There’d been no snow predicted today. Sweat slicked her clenched fists. Maybe she should cancel attending the baby shower and reschedule her appointment with Abby to talk about setting up the Christmas decorations at the bed-and-breakfast. Ethan could bring Cam home and then she could hibernate and take care of some things around the house. No. Her head battled with her emotions. She needed the company of her girlfriends right now and the money that another decorating job would bring in.
Fear would not win.
* * *
“Hi, Holly. It’s so good to see you again. Come on in.” Abby Preston ushered her into the renovated foyer inside the old Victorian bed-and-breakfast she owned and gave her a hug.
Holly returned the embrace. “You, too, Abby.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice. It’ll be nice to catch up, though.” Abby directed her into the empty parlor, their shoes clicking against the tile and then the wood floor. A hint of spiced apple drifted through the air from the candle burning on the fireplace mantel.
“Definitely. I wish we had more time to chat at those chamber mixers, but there are always so many distractions.” Holly settled herself on the frosted blue fleur-de-lis, Queen Ann–style chair. Despite her anxiety of going to the monthly gatherings, Holly knew that she needed to make an appearance every so often to keep up on what happened around Dynamite Creek.
“I know. When I first moved here, I knew no one. Now I don’t seem to have a moment’s peace.” Yet from the smile on the blonde’s face as she took a seat on the matching sofa, Holly guessed it didn’t bother her a bit.
Holly’s fingers ran along the ornately carved chair arms as her gaze flitted around the cozy room spruced in a blue-and-gold theme, mixed with antiques and time-period replicas. She imagined the small Christmas tree in the corner filled with cherubs and bows and garland draped over the heavy, full-length curtains and fireplace.
“That’s Dynamite Creek for you.” Sometimes the town wasn’t very welcoming to outsiders. Holly had grown up in Flagstaff, but the town had welcomed her with open arms because of Jared.
Despite her California background, Abby had no trouble fitting in, and it wasn’t just because she was related to one of the original founding families. Her husband, Cole, a local, had had a harder time because of some bad business dealings, but he had managed to work things out. Now he and his partner, Robert, had a booming business in renovating the older houses in town, which was probably why Holly was here to talk about Abby’s Christmas decorating for the Bancroft Bed & Breakfast.
“I know.” Her laughter filled the area. “Would you like some coffee and a slice of banana bread? Mrs. Wendt brought it by earlier.”
“I’m fine, thanks. Maybe I’ll take a slice to go.”
“You’d think by osmosis I’d learn how to bake, living with Cole and wedged between the two prize-winning bakers in town, but that’s just not the case. It still bothers me that Cole is a better cook than I am, but then again I don’t have to spend much time in the kitchen and can mingle with our guests.”
“Which you’re good at. And trust me, having a man who knows his way around the kitchen is a good thing. Especially toward the end.” Beside her, Abby shifted, her belly starting to protrude with her first child. The woman had blossomed the past few months in more ways than one.
“Yeah, I’ve heard I’m in for a fun time. Pretty soon I won’t be able to see my feet and Cole will have to paint my toenails for me.”
“But it’s all worth it. You forget about everything, even the pain, when the doctor places your baby in your arms for the first time.” The joy, the happiness, the intense emotion of love and protectiveness. The bond created by sharing the experience. Her fingers curled into fists. Stop it. Stop going there. This was Abby’s moment. The woman, like most of the town, knew nothing of Holly’s miscarriage after the accident, and now was not the time to mention it. “Have you had any cravings yet?”
“Bacon and soup of all things. Are you okay?” Concern laced Abby’s brow.
“I’m fine. Really. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“And why wouldn’t you be? Running two businesses all by yourself and raising your son. I know I couldn’t do it alone. I’m so blessed to have Cole.” Abby’s hands flew to her cheeks, but Holly could still see the redness underneath. “Oh, Holly. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Abby. That’s life.” Holly had found her true love, but he’d been taken away from her. Would she find happiness again if she wanted to? Ethan’s face intruded into her thoughts again and she remembered the feel of his lips on hers along with all the emotions behind the caress. It was all Holly could do not to cover her mouth. She pushed all the memories away.
Despite Holly’s recent thoughts of how she missed being in a relationship, Jared had been the love of her life and she had no plans to replace him. She couldn’t go through the pain if she allowed herself to fall in love again and something happened to him, too.
“Now, let’s see what you want me to do and I’ll give you a quote.”
A look of relief crossed Abby’s features at the change in conversation. She stood and headed back toward the double doors. “Your flyer came at just the right time, you know. I wasn’t sure how I’d get this place decorated for the holidays. We’re just so busy these days, and I don’t quite have the energy I used to, if you know what I mean. This is one of the rooms on the list, of course the living room is where the main focus would be.”
“I do, and that’s why I’m here.” This was Holly’s second potential big Christmas decorating job, and she’d do better to focus on that instead of Ethan. She stared at the large living room and fell in love with the architecture in here, too. “You’ve done an amazing job of renovating the interior and bringing it back to its former glory. I can see a twelve-foot Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with Victorian-style bows and ornaments. Garland strung across the windows and doorways and a wreath over the fireplace. What colors do you want to use?”
“I don’t know. Surprise me. You’ll have to wrap garland around the staircase banisters and deck out the dining room, as well.”
“Of course, and I envision red and white poinsettias in the dining room. What about the guest rooms?”
Abby put her hands on her back and stretched. “If you have the time and we don’t go over budget, I’d like to see something on a much smaller scale done in there, too. At least some kind of centerpiece for the dressers and maybe some garlands—oh, and wreaths in every front window.”
Holly remembered the days of an achy back and equally sore feet. Which reminded her again that it was a small price to pay for the miracle of birth and holding an infant in your arms for the first time. This time when tears threatened, Holly managed to keep them at bay. She would not break down again. “What type of decorations do you have?”
“Not much but the exterior lighting, which Cole and Robert have promised to put up tomorrow. Most of what my grandparents left behind was old and didn’t fit the theme I have in mind.”
“May I see them? I might be able to save you some money by incorporating what you already have with other things and create something new. If anything, they can be used in the guest rooms if the colors don’t match.”
“That would be awesome. They’re in the old garage out back. We can load them in your car and you can take them with you. If they don’t work for me, maybe they will for someone else. Or you can donate them to charity.”
Twenty minutes and a trunkful later, Holly accepted a slice of banana bread. “Okay, then, let me get to work on it. I’ll get bac
k to you tonight if possible with the proposal.”
Abby put her hand on Holly’s arm and squeezed gently. “Holly, you’re hired. I have three thousand dollars to work with. I have faith that you’ll be able to make this place a showcase and get more customers in the process. I need it up by next weekend, though. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all.” She thought of her schedule and currently pending commitments. Who needed sleep? Of course, with her schedule filling up so fast, she was going to have to rely on Kristen to help out with Cameron on the nights she couldn’t be home. There was only so much she could do while she worked at the shop. Maybe she should just close down and be done with it. Turmoil reduced her to tears and she walked quickly to her car. She wanted to hold on to her late husband’s dream as long as she could, because once it was over, she’d have to finally say goodbye to Jared.
Chapter Nine
“Pastor Matt, can I talk to you for a minute?” Holly stopped the man at the entrance to the community room after the service. Now probably wasn’t the best time to connect with him, but given her schedule, her choices were limited. And if she gave herself more time, she’d probably chicken out.
His gaze softened as he reached out, placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Of course. Did you want to talk here or in my office?”
She glanced back and forth across the crowded room. With the official kickoff of the holiday season now, energy filled the crowded space, yet seemed to miss her. She swallowed. Would she ever feel it again? Could she allow herself to? “Maybe outside in the foyer? I need to keep a look out for Cam.”
“Of course. Right this way.” He ushered her back into the foyer and over to a quiet corner. “What seems to be troubling you?”
Holly stared at the small pile of toys placed under the Christmas tree between the double doors leading into the sanctuary. Collecting presents for the less fortunate was a mission the church did every year. She and Jared used to donate, but that had stopped the year after he died. A lot of things did while she tried to deal and cope with her grief. She was still trying. But it was important to share what little she had with others who were less fortunate. And so was keeping a routine. And helping others.
