by Joanne Rock
Let alone approval for all the changes he wanted to make on the Jingle Elf house.
Luke shoved his hat back down into place. “I never told anyone this except for Rachel, but I asked her father for permission to marry her ahead of time. And after Chris Chambers wished me well and told me that I had his blessing, I told him what I was planning—the whole skywriting thing in front of the town.”
Gavin’s thoughts rushed to fill in what that meant.
“You figure he timed his departure to coincide with a day when everyone would be distracted?” he guessed.
“Right.” Luke nodded, scraping his dart off the desk and passing it from hand to hand like a hot potato. “And despite the proposal and all the drama of that day when the locals were putting Rachel on the spot, asking her where she’d been or if she’d said yes, she never once sought out her father?”
Gavin shook his head, unable to make the leap in his friend’s logic. “I don’t follow. So what?”
“She was only eighteen and all of Yuletide was demanding answers from her about why she skipped the parade and why she wouldn’t marry me. Wouldn’t it have made sense to call in her father—affable Chris Chambers, the founder of Yuletide and everyone’s favorite perennial Santa—to run interference for her?” Luke quit tossing the dart back and forth. He met Gavin’s gaze with an unblinking stare. “I’ve always wondered if her dad warned her he was leaving and she knew perfectly well he was already long gone by then. She could have been covering for him.”
“Impossible.” Although even as he said it, he wondered if he was quick to defend her because it was a reflex, or because he truly believed in her. “The cops questioned her—”
Was he still letting an attraction to Rachel overrule common sense? It made him wary that everyone else suspected her of something.
“We don’t know how much they asked her though. They were following the money. And I’m sure she didn’t know he was taking those town funds until afterward.” Luke flicked the fins of the dart with his finger. “But she could have known he was leaving and did him a favor by not calling attention to him that day. She certainly couldn’t have helped him any more if she tried.”
That last part was true enough. But none of the rest.
“No.” Gavin didn’t buy it. “You ended up helping him far more than she did. Chris Chambers saw a good time to leave and he took it. Your proposal was the perfect cover.”
“Maybe.” Luke moved to take his next shot while the party outside suddenly quieted. “I just know she and her mother sure never suffered financially afterward. I’d have a care about how close you let Rachel get to you, Gav.”
“You’re way off base,” Gavin told him as he wandered toward the open door to the hallway, wondering what was going on in the living room. “She didn’t sell you out to the town that day; she was unwilling to make things uncomfortable for you.”
That said a hell of a lot about her character in his book. He had always seen something special in her—even back when she’d been dating Luke and Gavin had forced himself to stay away. He hadn’t been the right kind of guy for her then and he sure wasn’t the right kind of man for her now with a career on the other side of the globe. But the Rachel he remembered had always possessed a gift for making people feel good about themselves. For making the world around her a little brighter. It bugged him to think she’d stifled that side of herself since then. Yuletide needed more of that playful spirit.
It also bugged him that Luke didn’t bother answering him. He was too busy looking over Gavin’s shoulder toward the living room to see why the party had gone silent.
Surprise, surprise.
Rachel was coming down the stairs with Kiersten, Emma and two of the other bridesmaids behind her.
All eyes turned toward her, the party going quiet. Quieter.
Dead silent.
One by one, the bridesmaids peeled away.
There was no way he was going to let his date stand there alone with most of Yuletide glaring up at her. He glanced over at the vacated karaoke stage heaped with baskets of feather boas, tiaras and big sunglasses for the aspiring stars. He spotted a beat-up guitar in the corner and a game plan came together.
Gavin strode to the bottom of the stairs and held out a hand to his descending date. He’d been apart from her for only an hour, but he’d forgotten how beautiful she looked tonight in her red dress and her Ugly Christmas Sweater Vest. She held her head high, dark hair shining in the warm glow of a pine-bough-laden chandelier.
“Looks like the stage is all ours,” he announced, never one to shy away from a moment in the spotlight. Even if this moment cost him any sway he had with the townspeople. “Time to entertain this rapt crowd with a holiday duet.”
Chapter Five
Rachel had braved a homecoming to fulfill her pact with her girlfriends. Then she’d faced a date with Gavin Blake even though she was still way too attracted to him. Tonight, she’d forced herself back into the presence of people who didn’t trust her and clearly didn’t want her around.
What more damage could it possibly do to sing a song?
As the party guests stared her down in the Garretts’ living room, she thought she might be more comfortable singing for them than having to make actual conversation. Besides, Gavin seemed determined to stick by her through this hellish evening and she didn’t like the idea of him having to make stilted conversation by her side. He didn’t deserve any of this hostile reception.
Bottom line: a song seemed easiest.
“What will we sing?” she asked Gavin even as he whisked her toward the low, makeshift stage that was draped with a few green Christmas tree skirts.
A low rumble of interest—or, more likely, a protest brewing—went through the crowd while Gavin sorted through a box of props on the stage.
“I heard you sing ‘What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?’ for the Yuletide Summer Queen contest.” He set a tiara in her hair, tilting it this way and that until he was satisfied. “We can do that as a duet. You lead; I’ll take the second stanza.”
He dragged a couple of stools to center stage, putting them side by side.
“Right.” She peered out over the crowd. And sure enough, there were scowling faces. But Kiersten was there, too, surrounded by Emma and the bridesmaids who had at least been open-minded enough to let her pitch refashioned dress ideas without walking out of the room. “Because that summer doesn’t hold any bad memories for anyone.”
Gavin wrapped a white boa around her neck, faux feathers flying. His green eyes locked on hers.
“I had some really good times that year.”
Her heart skipped a beat as her thoughts raced to that one unforgettable kiss. If her world hadn’t derailed right afterward, it would have been a highlight for her, too.
“Um.” She licked her lips, throat gone dry. She couldn’t think of an argument when her thoughts were humming with runaway romantic thoughts. “Okay.”
The grin that stole over his face revved her pulse and made it easier to think about him than about all those cranky faces filling the restless living room.
Gavin picked up the guitar that looked more suited to a teen than a grown-up. It must be three-quarter size. But still, he tuned it quickly, making a few adjustments as he took a seat on his barstool.
“You really know how to play that thing?” she whispered, scrolling through the karaoke machine to the song lyrics before taking her seat next to him.
Not that she really needed the words in front of her, but it was nice to have them as a backup. There’d been a time in her life when she’d routinely sang every holiday song known to mankind, whether it was as a featured performer in the nightly tree-lighting ceremony or in the school concerts and plays. Her crooked father had encouraged those performances, no doubt. But she’d enjoyed them. Singing was one part of the holiday festivities that didn’t make her allergies act up.
“No, but it’s my prop.” He shrugged as he twisted a tuning peg. “Unless you wa
nt to swap and give me the tiara?” He extended the guitar, offering the trade.
“Er. No, thank you.”
“Good.” He put the instrument back on his lap. “Girls dig guys who play guitars.”
She was pretty certain the girls would have been interested in Gavin no matter what, but as he said it, she had a flash of memory of him from the first time she’d met him. Her father had brought him into the fold when the townspeople had undertaken Santa’s Playground. They had been saving money by volunteering hours to build much of it themselves. Even the middle school kids had a role in raking out the site, and a scrappy loner of a boarding school boy had been lurking around the perimeter until her father called out to him and put a hoe in his hand.
Tonight was the first time in years she could remember focusing on one of the good things her dad had done. Maybe it was inevitable being back home in the town he’d helped to build.
“Are you ready?” Clearing her throat, she adjusted the height of the microphone.
A huge Christmas tree twinkled multi-colored lights across the room, an array of Santa Claus ornaments cavorting around the branches while a silver star winked on and off. Her increased dose of allergy meds seemed to ward off any reaction to the tree.
“One, two…” Gavin mouthed a silent count for her, finger hovering over the karaoke machine.
She missed her cue.
He counted again and she launched into the lyrics.
The opening words about it being early in the game sounded full and sultry, a gift of her voice that had taken her by surprise as much as anyone else when she’d been a kid. But singing was easy for her, a pleasure to share even with a hostile crowd.
Especially with Gavin strumming along to the background music beside her, keeping an easy time. Coming in for the second verse with a smooth voice that didn’t try too hard. He was a pleasure to listen to, the tone surrounding her like a hug. Or maybe it was the way he held her eyes when he sang about being held in someone’s arms.
The words made her own response a little throatier for the third verse. She didn’t bother looking out toward the gathered guests any more. The song was for him. And her.
He joined her for the final verse.
Not ready to let go of the moment or the song, she held up a finger to ask for a second round of the chorus. He let her sing that one alone and she added a flourish at the end, lingering over the words and letting the question dangle between them for a long moment as he held the last note.
Then, breaking the romantic duet with a nod to the living room and a smile, he strummed all that tension away in a quick holiday reprise—a stolen snippet of “Jingle Bells.” No matter what he said, he knew how to play a guitar.
The living room erupted in applause. Or at least, more applause than she’d been anticipating. That was for Gavin though. Yuletide loved their adopted son. He might have been born in Colorado and gone to school in Lake Placid, but as far as anyone here was concerned, he was a Yuletide native.
Seeing their obvious affection for him, she regretted letting him put himself through this for her sake. If he’d shown up at the Garretts’ front door alone tonight, he would have been ushered right inside and warmly embraced. Her presence here only made things awkward for everyone at a time that should be the happiest in Kiersten’s life. It hadn’t escaped Rachel’s notice that Luke was nowhere to be found in the crowd watching them.
He was avoiding her on purpose.
“I should get going.” She stood as the applause died down, tugging off her tiara and tossing the plastic crown into the prop box. “The Tinsel Trolley runs past here a few times at night. I can catch a ride home.”
She felt itchy again and guilty for keeping everyone from having fun.
“Whoa.” Gavin set down the guitar as she wove past a family with three small children coming up to the stage to take their turn at karaoke. “Wait up.”
Eye on the front foyer, she would have kept walking except that her sweater vest caught on something. Halting, she turned to see one of the little girls gently tugging the fabric to get her attention.
“You sang so pretty,” the child said shyly between gapped front teeth. Dressed in a festive green sweater covered with snowmen, she wore her hair in barrettes with white satin bows. One sagged lower than the other in the drooping red curls.
Rachel couldn’t hold back a smile despite her panic to leave. “Thank you, sweetie.” She tapped the girl’s nose gently. “You’re going to sing beautifully, too.”
The child shook her head hard, red curls flying and making the barrettes slip even lower. “I don’t sing good, so I ring the bells.”
Rachel sensed Gavin step down from the stage behind her, easily catching up to her now that she’d been waylaid. Not that she’d been running from him, exactly. But a little, she had been.
“That’s a very important job,” Rachel assured the girl. “Good luck.”
“Hurry up, Lily!” an older sibling with matching, perfectly perched bows in her hair hissed from the stage, holding out her hand. “Come on.”
Lily stuck out her tongue briefly, but let go of Rachel’s sweater and hopped on the stage with her family. Rachel watched her go, missing the one fan she’d made today in an otherwise uncomfortable room.
“You can’t leave without me.” Gavin spoke into her ear, his voice—or maybe it was the message—making her stomach flip in a good way.
“I don’t want to drag you away,” she pleaded with him quietly, all the while moving toward the front door. “But Luke isn’t going to talk to me of his own free will, and I don’t feel right making him uncomfortable at a party in his honor.”
The partygoers had stopped staring at her, at least.
“So we can work on Luke one day at a time before the wedding. If you’re ready to go, we leave together.” He opened the hall closet door to retrieve their coats. “Normally, I’d say we should thank the hostess, but in light of our reception tonight, I’m going to say that’s a bit of etiquette we can safely skip.”
As the family on stage began the opening bars of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” Rachel peered back toward the big living area where little Lily stood in the center of her siblings, a red leather strap of bells in one hand.
Gavin placed Rachel’s cape on her shoulders, surrounding her with warmth and—for a delicious moment—his arms. He paused beside her to follow her gaze.
“That’s Scott Malek, the mayor, by the way.” Gavin pulled his own coat on. “He’s the guy who wants to monetize the cross-country skiing idea. He’s Luke’s cousin too, but that sure hasn’t given me any kind of sway with the guy.”
So Harris family relations were back to being in charge of the community once known as Harristown. She could hear the frustration in Gavin’s voice and she empathized. How far had Yuletide come from its founding ideals? And how could they justify letting one negative incident in the town history turn the whole place so cynical? It seemed so…anti-Christmas.
And seeing the mayor’s adorable daughter constrained to ringing a strap of bells for the family song hardly improved her impression of Scott Malek.
“That’s just wrong,” she muttered, not sure which transgression bothered her more. “You see why I’m allergic to this town?”
Turning from the spectacle, she spotted the clear plastic garment bag full of pinned dresses hanging in the open hall closet. Kiersten must have brought them down so Rachel didn’t forget them. Guilt stabbed her at the idea of not saying goodnight to the bride, but Rachel really needed fresh air and to clear her head. Maybe Kiersten didn’t realize that her husband-to-be still held a grudge where Rachel was concerned, and now wasn’t the time to push the issue. Instead, Rachel reached for the garment bag, but her fingers bumped into Gavin’s.
Tingling awareness prickled up to her shoulder. All through the rest of her.
“I can get that for you.” He laid the bag over one arm and closed the hall closet before opening the front door for her. “But as far as
the allergy goes, I think it’s a convenient way to duck a sense of obligation to your hometown.”
Stepping out into the snowy night, she nearly tripped at the implication. All that tingling awareness faded. Anger simmered.
“You say that like it was me who founded the town and not my father,” she shot back, picking up her pace down the powder-covered walkway. “Why should I feel obligated to keep this place on track when every person living here—except my mom—turned their back on me eight years ago?”
Sure, she’d won Kiersten over fairly quickly, but she’d been a best friend. And that patched-up relationship hadn’t given Rachel a spot in the wedding. Not that she held the choice against the bride—she’d encouraged it. But it still hurt to be so far on the outside looking in at people who used to be such an important part of her life.
Gavin double-timed his step to catch up with her speed walk and then get ahead of her. He turned, standing in her path so that she had no choice but to face him.
“You’re not obligated, Rachel.” He took a step closer, focused on her like she was the only woman in the world. “But you are creative and charismatic. And when you stop trying to resist this place, you might find you have a gift for the kind of ideas that get people excited about living here again.”
With the warmth of their shared song still reverberating through her, she hated to argue with him. But her creativity was better spent on her work instead of the town that didn’t want her. She would get the bridesmaid dresses altered, patch things up with Luke in a place that wasn’t so public as a party, and then she’d be on her way. It might be as much peace as she could squeeze from her past.
*
With music blasting the next afternoon, Rachel worked on the third floor of her mom’s house. She guided red satin through her mother’s sewing machine as fast as she dared, remembering the quirky rhythms of the ancient Singer.
Surrounded by boxes of town and family memorabilia that her mother must have stowed out of sight once Chris Chambers left town, Rachel sang along with Ella Fitzgerald as she finished a dart in the halter bodice of Emma’s revamped bridesmaid dress.
