Christmas on Crimson Mountain

by Michelle Major

  Ranie’s gaze darted around the bakery as she sat. “Where is he?”

  “He had some things to do in town.”

  “Things like avoiding us,” Ranie mumbled.

  April threw a helpless smile at Katie. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.

  “That’s the famous author, right?”

  April nodded.

  “He’s different than I imagined, based on his books,” Katie said gently. Thanks to its proximity to Aspen, Crimson saw plenty of famous visitors each year. Most people in town took it in stride.

  “I think he’s different than he used to be,” April answered.

  Shay dipped a spoon into the hot chocolate and scooped up a mini marshmallow. “He’s grumpy because he has so much work to do.”

  April placed a hand on the girl’s thin shoulder. “Sweetie, it’s more than the work. Connor had a wife and son who died in a car accident a few years ago. He misses them.”

  Shay nodded. “I miss Mommy. It’s sad when people die.”

  April saw Katie’s eyes widen. Maybe it had been a mistake to come to town, after all. Sara might be on vacation, but there were plenty of other friends she’d need to avoid if she didn’t want to talk about the situation with Ranie and Shay. Her reputation in town was that of a mother hen, the one who took care of everyone around her. While that might be true for her friends, she couldn’t imagine allowing the girls to stay with her permanently.

  April had arranged her life so that permanent wasn’t part of it. She had no real commitments to anyone or anything, and if that was a bit lonely, it was also safer. She couldn’t be hurt if she wasn’t truly involved.

  “It is sad,” she told Shay. “So we’ll have to be extra patient with Connor.”

  “Even though,” Ranie piped in, “he’s a big jerk.”

  April didn’t bother to correct her. “Even though,” she agreed, and earned the ghost of a smile from Ranie. That was something.

  She glanced up at Katie, who was eyeing the three of them curiously. “You should call me later,” her friend said, clearly interested in the story April wasn’t sharing.

  “Service is spotty at the cabin.” April sipped her tea.

  Katie frowned. “There’s a landline, right?”

  “Thank you for cookies and drinks,” April answered, ignoring the question. She pulled her wallet from her purse, but Katie shook her head.

  “A Christmas present for your guests.”

  Both girls thanked Katie, who was still studying them as if trying to puzzle out the deeper meaning. April felt herself tense, but at that moment one of the women behind the counter called to Katie.

  “You go on,” April told her. “The bakery is slammed, and they need you.”

  Katie hesitated.

  April finally relented. “I’ll call you soon.”

  With a satisfied nod, Katie hugged both girls and then April. “You’ve supported every single friend you’ve made in town these past few years,” she said, her dark brown eyes sincere. “Maybe it’s time you let us return the favor.”

  “Thank you,” April whispered, hating that her voice shook a little.

  When Katie walked away, she plastered the smile back on her face. “Who’s up for ice skating?”

  Chapter Five

  Connor had walked the streets surrounding downtown Crimson since leaving the bakery and was now cold to the bone. He hadn’t worn gloves or a hat, and both his fingers and head felt practically frozen. He’d lived his whole life in northern California, so while he was used to damp cold, the bone-chilling air of the Colorado mountains was an entirely new sensation.

  One plus to turning into a human Popsicle was that it had helped him get his burning emotions back under control. He’d had to get away from the crowds and April’s too-knowing gaze. Not because she was out of line in speaking about Margo and Emmett but because the truth in her words shamed him.

  Margo would have wanted him to go on with his life and find happiness again. Her parents had visited him several times after the funeral to try to convince him of just that. April and those girls made him smile, lifted his heart out of the blackness that had surrounded it for so long. But it felt like a betrayal to his wife and son’s memory to feel anything but emptiness.

  He dug his knuckles into his chest, trying to keep everything buried. Alone in his small apartment north of San Francisco, it had been easy to pretend that sorrow and guilt were all there was to him. It was the only way to make sure he would never again feel the pain of so much loss.

  He made his way from the picturesque residential neighborhood with cozy houses decorated with lights and garlands back toward the equally charming business district and came to stand at the edge of the outdoor ice rink. The rink was large, occupying most of a public park that stretched the length of a city block. Many groups of skaters twirled around the wide oval shape. He spotted April and Shay on the far side of the rink, holding hands and moving slowly. April looked steady on her skates, but Shay was hanging off her arm as if April was the only thing balancing the girl.

  He scanned the other skaters but couldn’t find Ranie. Finally he noticed her bright blue parka at the edge of the rink. He could see her gripping the edge of the wall, but she wasn’t moving and her face was buried in her arms. Without thinking, he started toward her.

  “You’d better get going,” he said when he was in front of her across the wall. “This is a skating rink, not a parking lot.” She didn’t move and he immediately regretted the stupid joke. His brilliant social skills were making a mess of things once again.

  When she raised her head to glare at him, her cheeks were stained with tears. His heart lurched. Still not as dead on the inside as he wanted to be.

  “Hey,” he said, placing his hand awkwardly on her arm. She jerked away, then started to lose her balance and reached for him. He grabbed both her arms and held on tight. “I’m sorry. Bad joke.”

  “I don’t care about anything you say,” she snapped. “I can’t skate.”

  “Well, you’re holding on to the wall like a champ, so you must have gotten this far somehow.”

  She shook her head. “I’m stuck here. I can’t move.”

  “Sure you can.” He loosened his grip on her. “I’m going to let go and—”

  “No!” Her voice was pure panic.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He looked for April’s copper hair amid the skaters gliding toward them but couldn’t see her. At the speed she and Shay were moving, it would take another several minutes for them to make it to this end of the rink.

  “I’ll fall if you let go.”

  “You were doing fine before I got here.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Everyone falls when learning to skate, Ranie. A few bruises and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’m afraid. Please help me, Connor.” She sounded miserable, whether from her fear or having to ask him for help, he couldn’t tell.

  He should have kept walking. He didn’t want to be involved, but he couldn’t make himself desert this girl now. Not when he could actually help her. The fact that she would rely on him, even if only because she was desperate, poked at something deep inside him. It was nothing, an inconsequential turn around a skating rink. But it was something he could do.

  “I’m going to let you go and—”

  “Fine. Who needs you anyway?” She bit down on her lip.

  “For a second while I hop over the wall.”

  “Oh.” She nodded and took a breath.

  He hitched her up so she could hang on to the wall while he boosted himself up and over. His boots slid as they hit the ice, and he very nearly landed flat on his back. After righting himself, Connor took hold of Ranie’s arm. “Let go now.”

  “I can’t,” she w
hispered. “I’ll fall.”

  He bent and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He hadn’t been this near another person, let alone a child, since the accident.

  “I’ve got you, Ranie. Trust me.”

  Those were the wrong words, because Connor wasn’t someone this girl should trust. But she lifted her hands from the wall, grabbing tightly to his coat sleeve. Her whole body was stiff as he walked across the ice, dragging her along with him as he went. The rink seemed even more crowded now, and he focused on moving through the center to make a small circle that would put them back at the break in the wall that served as the skaters’ entrance and exit. He glanced at the frightened girl still holding on to him and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut.

  “Not much of a skater?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational.

  She gave a sharp shake of her head.

  “Why did you agree to this little outing anyway?”

  “Shay was excited. She’s never ice-skated. And April really wanted to make her happy after you were such a jerk.”

  He smiled at her blunt words. “This wasn’t your first time?”

  “No.”

  “Bad experience?” He steered her toward the edge of the rink. “Open your eyes. We’re almost to the exit.”

  She did and let out a shuddery breath. He stepped onto the rubber mat in front of the exit and helped Ranie off the ice. The girl took two steps forward and sank onto one of the metal benches surrounding the rink. Connor glanced over his shoulder and caught April’s gaze. She held Shay’s hand, the young girl smiling from ear to ear as they sailed over the ice. He could read the question in her eyes but motioned for her to take another turn around the rink. He expected her to ignore him, but instead she and Shay glided past the break in the wall.

  Connor looked down at Ranie, who had her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Panic licked down his spine. Why the hell hadn’t he let April take over? Clearly, the girl was upset about something and he was wholly ill equipped to deal with whatever it was.

  With a sigh, he sat down next to her. “Tell me about you and skating.”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s okay. I’m happy to think you’re a wimpy girl.”

  She sucked in a breath and dropped her hands. “You really are a jerk,” she said, glaring at him.

  He nodded. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “I guess you want me to think you’re wimpy and stupid?”

  She mumbled something under her breath that he pretended not to hear. “My mom took me skating when I was little. Shay was a tiny baby and Mom got a babysitter for her so we could have a fun afternoon together. It was an indoor rink because we were in California, but she fell and sprained her wrist.”

  “And that scared you?”

  The girl shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t remember. She went to the doctor for a splint and asked them about a lump she had under her arm. That’s when we found out she had cancer.”

  Again Connor wished he hadn’t waved April away. And why had she listened to him? He was the last thing this girl needed right now. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and whispered, “That sucks.” It was all he could think of at the moment.

  Ranie gave a small laugh. “You’re bad at giving comfort.”

  “No doubt,” he agreed.

  “But thank you for rescuing me.”

  “What happened out there?”

  “I don’t know.” Her thin shoulders slumped like they carried the weight of the world. “I didn’t think it was a big deal, but I started skating and suddenly I was afraid. Like something bad might happen if I fell. I’m all Shay has left and...” She broke off, wiped a mittened hand across her cheeks, then said, “You’re right. I’m stupid and wimpy.”

  Connor cringed. “I didn’t say that exactly.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You sort of did.”

  “I was trying to get you to talk to me.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I bet you regret it now.”

  He stood and turned to her. “Hold that thought.” He jogged over to the ticket booth, grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and then pushed a few bills toward the teenager working behind the counter. He told her his shoe size and, skates in hand, returned to the bench next to Ranie.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m putting on ice skates.”

  “You’re going to leave me and go skating after what I just told you?”

  He cut her a look. “No, we’re both going back out there.”

  “No way.” Ranie crossed her arms over her chest, the puffy down jacket making her look more substantial than she was.

  Both Ranie and Shay were delicate and fine-boned, much like April, although they weren’t related. Emmett had been solidly built, “husky” as the clothes Margo bought for him were called. Connor had mistakenly thought that the boy’s sturdy body would keep him safe, but there wasn’t much anyone could do when jackknifed on the highway on a rainy night.

  The familiar wave of grief pounded him, making it difficult to suck air into his lungs, and he closed his eyes and prepared for it to take him under.

  “Hey.”

  He felt a gentle nudge on his arm. Blinking several times, he opened his eyes to find Ranie staring up at him. His sorrow started the slow slide back into the dark crevice that was its home.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said, “Just don’t look like you’re going to freak out on me.”

  “I’m not going to freak out,” he muttered.

  “Right. Because this moment is about me. This is my freak-out. You got yours earlier.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her attitude. “Are you distracting me?”

  “I think we’re distracting each other,” she told him, and looped her hand around his elbow. “You better not let me fall.”

  He led her toward the ice. “The whole purpose is to get okay with falling.”

  April and Shay met them at the edge of the rink. They moved so that they weren’t blocking the steady stream of skaters getting on and off the rink. Ranie didn’t let go of his arm.

  “What’s going on?” April asked, eyeing the two of them like she wasn’t sure what to make of them together. Connor understood the sentiment.

  “Connor is teaching me to ice-skate.”

  “You told April you didn’t need help,” Shay said. “She can teach you. She’s good.” She tugged at Ranie’s free arm. “Better than him.”

  “No doubt,” Connor agreed, earning a frown from both April and Ranie. How was it that those two weren’t related when they could give such well-matched death glares? He sighed, maneuvered Ranie so she could hold on to the wall and crouched down in front of Shay. “You look like a pro out there, Shay,” he said. “I bet this isn’t your first time on skates.”

  “Is so,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip and looking over his shoulder. Her nose and cheeks were bright pink and her blond hair had escaped its braid to curl around the edges of the knit cap she wore. After a moment she met his gaze. “April teached me. She’s nice.”

  Connor understood that part of what she was thinking went unsaid. “I’m sorry I wasn’t nice earlier.” Despite the cold, he felt a bead of sweat roll between his shoulder blades. Her innocence reminded him so much of his son. But both April and Ranie were right. He’d had a time for his own freak-out, and there would be plenty more once he was alone again.

  As difficult as it was, for two weeks he could help these girls maneuver through this new life without their mother. It’s what Margo would have expected from him and what he’d wish for his own son if the situation was reversed. The familiar rhythm of wanting to change the past pounded in his chest, but he forced it away. “Sometimes when I’m sad it make
s me grumpy.”

  “You’re sad because your family died.”

  He swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I bet you were nice to them.”

  “I tried to be,” he whispered. “I loved them very much, just like your mommy loved you.” He slipped off his glove and reached out to touch the tip of her nose. “I’m going to try to be nicer to everyone because my wife and son would have wanted that.”

  “Mommy made videos and wrote letters for Ranie and me to look at on our birthdays every year. She said she’ll tell us things we need to know like how to make friends and be smart and stuff.” She smiled. “You can teach Ranie to skate, but I still bet you’re not as good as April.”

  “I’m not that great,” April said as Connor straightened.

  He met her dark gaze. “You looked pretty darn good to me.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, color rising to her cheeks.

  Ranie gave a patented teenage groan. “Let’s go before I freeze even more.”

  Connor winked at April, surprised he could still make the gesture, and led Ranie back onto the ice.

  * * *

  “You’re giving me whiplash,” April said as she and Connor stood behind the skating rink’s wall and watched Shay and Ranie circle the rink.

  Connor shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not even moving.”

  “It’s your attitude. You need to pick whether you’re going to be a jerk or a decent human being. This back-and-forth is making me crazy.”

  Crazy might be an understatement for how she felt with Connor. Earlier today she’d written him off after he’d stalked away at the bakery. She’d figured her attempt at drawing him out of his isolation had failed and she’d maneuver through the Christmas holiday as best she could. Until he’d shown up at the ice rink, patiently taught Ranie how to skate, and then spun and raced with Shay while the young girl giggled. Ranie had actually laughed and, once she felt comfortable, the girl was a natural on skates. There was a connection between these girls and Connor that April didn’t understand but could still appreciate.