A Chance This Christmas

by Joanne Rock

  Kiersten had texted her today, apologizing for the awkward reception at her house the night before and reminding Rachel about the bachelorette party tonight. Not that Rachel would be attending. She’d put herself in the community eye to try and make amends, but she wasn’t going to succeed without the groom’s help. It hadn’t boded well, in her mind, that she hadn’t spotted so much as a glimpse of Luke Harris at the party the night before. No matter what he told Gavin or Kiersten about wanting to move on and put the past behind him, he hadn’t gone to any effort to welcome Rachel home.

  No effort to extend an olive branch.

  Letting up on the sewing machine pedal, she slid the fabric out from under the presser foot and flipped it around to work on the other side. She’d been at the machine all day except for a brief trip to the Merry & Bright Bakery this morning to pick up breakfast for her mother. She’d walked in on a conversation at the counter about a mystery woman who was only in town to break up a wedding. She took a wild guess they’d been referring to her based on how fast the talk turned to the weather.

  The chilly reception bothered her in a different way today than it might have earlier in the week. It was one thing for the townspeople to turn their back on Rachel. She expected that. But Gavin’s words last night made her realize just how lacking in Christmas spirit Yuletide felt with people holding grudges and more worried about making money than giving back to the community with charitable opportunities.

  At this time of year especially, that upset her.

  “Rachel!” her mother called up the stairs, her voice a soft undertone behind the music and the hum of the sewing machine.

  Easing her foot off the pedal again, Rachel pressed the volume button down on her phone, silencing the wireless speaker. “Yes?”

  “You have a visitor.” Her mother’s voice held a peculiar note—borderline girlish and a little flirtatious.

  Rachel’s early detection system warned her this visitor would be male.

  “Okay,” she called back belatedly, already hearing a heavy step on the staircase.

  Gavin appeared then, his head nearly brushing the ceiling even in the center of the room where the roof wasn’t sloped. The insulated pants and boots he wore with a red sweatshirt layered over a tee made her think he’d spent the day on the mountain. The snow here wasn’t always the same caliber as the Alps and the Rockies, but for a snowboard cross athlete, there were local runs that worked well for training.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.” He glanced down at her work, making her realize she clutched the skirt of Emma’s red satin gown tightly in one hand.

  Forcing her fingers to unclasp, she reminded herself she was over Gavin. He didn’t make her nervous anymore. She was older now, and wiser. So the natural, athletic grace in the man’s every movement was just something she noticed on a purely intellectual level.

  Yes, she sucked at kidding herself.

  “You’re not interrupting.” She straightened from her seat, coming to her feet. “I’ve been hunched over the machine for hours. I’ll wind up with a kinked neck if I don’t take time to look up now and then.”

  Standing put her in sudden, close proximity with her guest considering the cramped space and low ceiling.

  “You want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air?” He stared down at her from his spot less than a foot away.

  She glanced over to the windows looking down on Main Street. The sidewalks were full of tourists, although—she could see now, thanks to Gavin—not as many as in the days when her father was a driving force in the town.

  Two days ago, she wouldn’t have wanted to face the snubs. But after making the effort to smooth things over with many of the people she’d been closest with last night, she found she didn’t feel like hiding out in the house today. Also, Gavin Blake’s personal magnetism was way too high when she stood so close to him in this private spot.

  “Definitely.” She would have lunged for the stairs if he hadn’t been standing in her path, stirring butterflies she tried hard to ignore. “That would be nice.”

  Ten minutes later, they walked away from the town square, toward the Tinsel Trolley station. Rachel hugged her white parka tighter even though it hadn’t been that cold this week. The temperature hovered right around freezing, which wasn’t bad for a city in the mountains that routinely showed up on the weather news as the coldest spot in the nation.

  They bought hot cocoa at the kiosk near the skating pond—a man-made addition to the town with a booth to rent ice skates and a canopy of lights strung between the trees overhead. The place was full of teens and young families. The bright lights made for good photo opportunities since the sun set so early this time of year. Holiday music—ever present around here—was piped in over hidden speakers. The choices were more modern though: pop singers interpreting the classics or crooning newer tunes.

  Sipping her steaming hot chocolate carefully, Rachel followed Gavin’s progress to the far end of the skating rink where an empty wooden bench sat between two huge oak trees.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night.” He waited for her to take a seat and then settled beside her on the bench. His knee brushed hers. “I know it’s not my place to tell you where to live or what to do.”

  He laid an arm on the bench behind her, making himself more comfortable in a way that made her entirely too aware of him.

  “I know you meant well.” They definitely hadn’t said much of anything on the short ride home. She’d been battling her frustration about Luke’s disappearing act. “This place gets under my skin—even more than I expected it when I came back.”

  Although tonight, beside Gavin under the white lights, she didn’t feel quite so much opposition to her hometown. Sipping hot cocoa beside a charming, handsome man bearing an apology was definitely kind of nice.

  “So what were you working on at the sewing machine?” he asked, resting one boot on his knee in a way that made his legs sprawl a little more. “Are you filling an order for a custom design through your store?”

  She felt flattered he remembered. “No. I’m making some adjustments to the bridesmaid dresses for Kiersten’s wedding.”

  He nodded, waving at a couple of skaters who called out to him as they passed. “That must be what was in the garment bag we brought home from the party.”

  “Yes. We did some fittings upstairs last night while I waited for you to work your charm on our hosts.” She breathed in the crisp night air, the scent of pine not bothering her as much outdoors.

  Fragrant roasted chestnuts filled the air too, a specialty of the kiosk where they’d bought the hot chocolate.

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain so well.” Frowning, he leaned back to toss his empty cup in a bin behind them. “I’m especially disappointed in Luke, who could have made a lot of the ill will go away if he’d just greeted you normally.”

  “I know you and Kiersten think he’s not holding a grudge, but from my perspective, it doesn’t seem like he wants anything to do with me.” That hurt because she’d been very forthright with Luke when they’d broken up. She’d only kept quiet about it because he’d asked her to. “I’m not sure how to approach him at this point.”

  Distracted by her own thoughts and memories, it took her a moment to realize Gavin looked uncomfortable. He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut again, shifting positions beside her.

  “What?” Straightening, she set her empty cup on the ground under the bench and pivoted so she faced him. “Do you know why he’s acting that way?”

  Gavin huffed out a sigh. “He’s got some notion in his head that your dad told you he was leaving ahead of time. And that even though you didn’t know he was taking the money, you still kept quiet to give him time to get away.”

  She remembered a tense, angry confrontation with Luke two days after he’d caught her kissing Gavin. He’d come over to her house full of indignation. Frustration. Snippets of those old accusations came back to her now. “He thinks that be
cause I didn’t cry wolf and go running to find my dad that day, somehow that means I was complicit in his embezzlement? How could he claim to have known me well enough to propose and have thought that of me? He clearly didn’t know me at all.”

  “He just thinks you might have known your dad was leaving.” Gavin made an awkward shrug, like he didn’t believe it…but sort of wondered about it.

  Or was she just being prickly again?

  Forcing herself not to react with the same resentment she always used to feel about that day, she remembered how hard Gavin had fought for her to be accepted around here. He’d put his own reputation on the line for her last night, and he had to live among these people. In light of that, she thought he deserved an explanation.

  Bridging the space between them, she rested a hand on his knee to draw his attention.

  “I swear to you, I had no idea he was going.” She tried not to think about how deeply that cut her. Under all the layers of tangled emotions from eight years ago, that underlying hurt resonated the most. “My father was a rock in my life every moment up until that day. I didn’t need to go running to him because in my heart, I knew my family—and Dad, especially—would back me no matter what.”

  Gavin’s hand covered hers, a warm weight that comforted her. Anchored her from getting too lost in those emotions.

  “You must have been devastated,” he said simply.

  “It was awful.” She could remember returning to the house that night. Finding her mother crawling the walls, wondering why he wasn’t answering her calls. Rachel’s worries had flipped from her own romantic troubles to far bigger concerns. And maybe she felt safe sharing her real feelings with Gavin because he was probably the only person in town who didn’t see her father as a cartoon villain, but a multi-dimensional man. “I didn’t know it until that night, but he’d been on medicines to help him with depression, insomnia, impulse control…a lot of things.”

  “I don’t remember reading that in the press coverage afterward.”

  “My mother told the police, but she kept it private from the media because my father had never wanted her to share it. He had a difficult childhood, and he had—to use Mom’s words—a lot of demons.” She remembered her mother holding her phone for days afterward, never setting it down in case he called. “She was terrified he was having a dark episode and might do harm to himself because disappearing and stealing were so out of character.”

  She stared down at where Gavin’s fingers rested on hers. Where her hand lay on his knee. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much of a burden it had been keeping her love for her father—love that even his criminal actions couldn’t fully erase—a secret. As if it was wrong to care for someone who’d made a bad choice.

  “I’m sorry you and your mother went through that.” Gavin’s green eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t look away.

  “It was a long time ago,” she said aloud. She had grown up since then. Changed. Matured.

  She wasn’t a girl with a crush on Gavin any longer.

  Although, under the canopy of white lights in this quiet spot behind the ice rink, she found it difficult to remember that.

  “Was it? Because I remember it like it was yesterday.” He shifted his arm behind her, wrapping it lightly around her shoulders. Stroking her hair where it lay against her back. “Especially the part where I kissed you.”

  Chapter Six

  Gavin had warned himself to take things slow. He’d spent the day on the slopes, mentally walking through his approach with Rachel while he shredded moguls and worked on some jumps. But even after all the pep talks about giving her space and time, he found himself reeling her closer while he stared into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

  “The kiss was the only nice part of the day,” she admitted. “Such a shame you regretted it.”

  “Not even for a second did I regret the kiss.” He’d spent plenty of time wondering if it truly had been as electric as in his memories. He let go of her hand to sketch a touch along her cheek. “Only the timing.”

  He couldn’t wait to kiss her again. Not when she mesmerized him this way right now. Tipping her chin, he leaned closer.

  “It’s Gavin Blake!” a kid shouted from a few feet away before he half-stumbled into him, thrusting a warped piece of paper in between Gavin and Rachel. “Can I have your autograph?”

  Rachel eased away from him while Gavin tried to get his bearings. Three boys in those awkward middle school years stood in front of him. The redhead with the paper—a brochure from Whiteface Mountain where Gavin had been skiing today—was still all kid, while his friends were in various stages of growth spurt, ankles and wrists hanging out of their winter gear.

  “Sure.” Gavin blinked away the fog of attraction from a kiss that wasn’t happening. He wasn’t asked for an autograph every day, especially outside of competitions, so he appreciated the nod from a local fan. “You have a pen?”

  The kid’s face blanked, as if Gavin had asked him to drive a car or something. “A pen?”

  Behind him, his buddies laughed and provided no help.

  “I have one,” Rachel announced, lifting a dark leather handbag from the ground near her hot chocolate cup. She dug around the purse and withdrew a felt tip. “Here you go.”

  Gavin talked to the kids long enough to get their names and signed the brochure for TJ, a chewed-up neon hockey puck for the tallest kid they called Chip, and a hall pass of Joey’s, the only other paper they had between them. The pack of boys ran off as fast as they’d appeared, shoving, tackling, and hollering all at the same time.

  Passing Rachel’s pen back to her, he tossed away her empty cocoa cup. “Sorry about that.”

  “I think it’s great you have fans.” She rose to her feet, shouldering the strap of her bag. “Should we keep walking?”

  What he really wanted was that kiss.

  But he kept that thought on lockdown as he stood, unable to get a read on Rachel.

  “Sure. It seems like a good night for a carousel ride.” That would let her see the way things were falling apart around town. Maybe inspire her to dig in here a little longer and help the town find its heart again. But then another thought occurred to him. “Wait a second. Isn’t the bachelorette party tonight?”

  “Yes, but I’ve already told Kiersten I wouldn’t be there.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her parka. “After last night, she understands.”

  Last night was his fault. He had thought Luke didn’t hold a grudge against Rachel and that it would be simple enough for the people of Yuletide to accept her once Luke welcomed her home again. But apparently Rachel had left his buddy with a wound—a bitterness—deeper than Gavin realized. It seemed strange to Gavin that Luke could forgive him for kissing Rachel, but he couldn’t forgive Rachel. Especially since he’d fallen in love again and was getting married.

  “In that case, I’m glad I get to keep you to myself a little longer.” He walked beside her through the lightly snow-covered paths leading to the playground and the holiday-themed merry-go-round. He had his own reasons for wanting her to see it, even if they weren’t nearly as fun as kissing her.

  Briefly, the evening grew darker as they left the lights of the skating rink and headed toward the park. In the town square, a choir sang the songs for the tree-lighting, the voices carrying on the wind. The scent of roasted chestnuts and pine were so pervasive on December evenings that he’d forever associate the smells with Yuletide.

  Rachel seemed to be doing better with allergies, having taken a puff from her inhaler before their walk tonight.

  “How is your training going?” she asked as she matched her stride to his. “Will you have fallen behind by the time you return to your team?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He didn’t want to think about the pressures of next week. He’d been pursuing his dream for so long sometimes it felt like snowboarding was the only thing in his life. “I’m glad to get away from it for a week.”

  “You’re really seriou
s about starting a business here? If those autograph-seeking boys are any indication, you sure have the fan base and name recognition.” She tipped her head back to stare up at the falling snow.

  “Very serious. I just need the right niche to get started. I really like the idea of making Jingle Elf into a snowboarder.” As a teen, he’d been envious of the families who lived on Main Street and were the lifeblood of the Yuletide holiday season with their themed houses and built-in gift shops.

  A strolling group of carolers dressed in red tartan sang their way past them.

  “You do? Because while Jingle might be a snowboarder, I think the gift shop could have all kinds of winter sports equipment—sleds, skates, snowshoes, whatever.” She paused and turned toward him. “You could have a flat screen on one wall with footage from your competitions. A loop of video to let kids see how fun it is to snowboard. Maybe throw in some goofy outtakes of you on a skateboard or snow shoes, too.”

  “Can’t do that.” He was curious about where she would have gone with that idea, but he hated to get excited about something that wasn’t allowed in the store. “The town wants all the buildings to be electronics-free zones. To emphasize family time or something.”

  She glanced at him, their elbows brushing. “I’m sure they just don’t want kids on their phones—”

  “No. They nixed someone else’s request to install an interactive electronic game.” He’d been at that meeting to try and sway the board about his charity event and ended up sitting through a vote on the electronics issue.

  “Well that’s antiquated.” Frowning, she continued walking, but seemed preoccupied until she blurted. “You could make some real changes around here if you were mayor.”

  “In all of my spare time?” He laughed, knowing he’d lose his spot on the men’s snowboard team if he did that. “But thank you for your faith in me. Maybe once the mountain gets the better of me, I’ll consider it.”