Christmas on Crimson Mountain

by Michelle Major

  Connor cleared his throat. “How about I put them on the mantel to be safe and you girls start on your gifts?”

  “Presents!” Shay shouted, oblivious to the effect her sweet gifts had.

  She dropped to her knees next to the tree, and April pulled out her phone. “Let me get a few pictures of you.”

  Shay posed for a couple of seconds, then reached for a brightly wrapped package. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  Connor came to sit next to April as Shay held up a bright pink princess costume. “Oh, it’s just what I wanted,” she said, and twirled in a happy circle. “You next, Ranie.”

  The girl held a wrapped box on her lap. “Is everyone going to watch?”

  “Yes,” Shay said with an exasperated sigh. “You know we each take turns opening presents.”

  Ranie sniffed. “Maybe April does it different.”

  “That sounds perfect to me,” April told her, and got an eye roll in return.

  “We don’t have all morning here, kid.” Connor rubbed his stomach. “Breakfast casserole is waiting.”

  Again, April was about to scold him for his attitude, but Ranie smiled. “Give me a break. It’s not even seven a.m.”

  “You get the point,” Connor shot back. “No more delays. I command you to open that gift.”

  “As if you’re the boss of me,” Ranie said, and stuck out her tongue. But she was already carefully unfolding the corners of the wrapping paper.

  “Why does she like you so much,” April whispered while Ranie was distracted with her gift, “when you’re so mean?”

  Connor scoffed. “I’m not mean. I’m direct. There’s a difference.” He linked their hands together. “Sometimes she takes things too seriously, especially herself. It breaks her out of it when I give her a little grief.”

  “Unorthodox therapy,” April said, “but no denying it works.”

  Ranie gasped as she pulled a pair of designer sheepskin boots out of the box. Her eyes flicked to April. “These are the boots I saw when we got to Colorado that first day,” she said, her voice soft. “You said they were too much money with everything else.”

  April smiled. “Christmas is about going a little overboard. Do you like them?”

  “I love them.” Ranie stood and came to April, giving her a small hug. “Thank you so much. They’re perfect.”

  “Wow. You’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.”

  Shay grabbed another gift. “Me next.”

  The girls continued to open presents until there was nothing left under the tree. Ranie was more animated than April had ever seen, and it tugged on her heart in a way she didn’t want to examine. She knew Jill had been sick for a while and wondered exactly how much responsibility Ranie had taken on in the house and if she’d ever been able to be a carefree kid.

  “How about stockings?” Connor asked.

  Shay jumped up and ran toward the fireplace. “I love stockings!”

  Connor handed the girls theirs and then placed one decorated with a needlepoint angel stitched on the front in April’s lap.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything,” she told him.

  “I know. That’s what makes it Christmas.”

  Ranie’s harsh gasp drew April’s attention. “Are these real?” the girl asked, her eyes wide on Connor.

  He nodded. “You have pierced ears, right?”

  “Yes, but...” She held up a pair of tiny diamond earrings. “I’ve never had anything like this.”

  “Merry Christmas,” he said, almost sheepishly.

  “Oh, it’s so pretty.” A delicate gold bracelet dangled from Shay’s fingers.

  “What’s the charm on it?” April asked, leaning closer.

  “It’s the sun.”

  “Perfect for you, Shay, because you are a ray of sunshine.”

  The young girl beamed. “Now you, April.”

  April pulled out a small box from her stocking. “Do I sense a theme?”

  Connor shrugged. “I snuck out of the party to shop but didn’t want to be gone too long. There’s a jewelry store next to the bakery.”

  “You really didn’t have to—”

  “Open the gift, April.”

  Unwrapping the shiny paper, April felt like a kid. Other than an annual Secret Santa exchange at the yoga studio and the occasional White Elephant party, she hadn’t received a Christmas gift in years. As she opened the velvet box inside, her breath caught in her throat.

  She glanced up at Connor, whose expression was an adorable mix of hope and nerves. “I’m out of practice with gift giving,” he said softly, “but diamonds are always good, right?”

  “These are better than good.” She fingered the delicate diamond hoops. “They’re perfect.” The earrings were understated and gorgeous, and she could wear them every day, even to a yoga class. The last man who had bought her jewelry had been her ex-husband.

  He’d insisted on her wearing large and sometimes gaudy stones, as if having a wife decked out in jewels helped prove his status within the Hollywood community. The jewelry had been the first thing she’d sold to pay off her medical bills.

  “Try them on,” Shay said, and with trembling hands, April fastened an earring in each ear.

  “They look nice,” Ranie told her.

  At that moment Jingle came bounding into the room and pounced on a stray bow. The girls laughed, both jumping up to play with the kitten.

  “Thank you,” April told Connor as he tucked her hair behind one ear. She leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss across his lips.

  “There’s something else in the stocking,” he said.

  “Connor, no,” She shook her head. “I thought we were just doing gifts for the girls. I don’t have anything—”

  “You’ve given me so much already.” He cupped her face with a tenderness that brought another round of tears to her eyes. “Let me do this.”

  She dug in the bottom of the stocking and pulled out... “A flash drive?” She gave him a crooked smile. “Thanks. I can always use—”

  “My new book is on it. I know it’s already with the editor, but I was hoping you’d read it, too. I mean if you have time and—”

  She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck so he wouldn’t see how much she was affected by his gesture. For Connor to share something so personal with her, it must mean...no. She wouldn’t let herself go there. She couldn’t allow the hope for more to creep into her mind and her heart. It would only make the end harder to bear. “This is turning out to be an amazing Christmas” she whispered instead.

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed, and held her close.

  Chapter Eleven

  Connor ended the call with his editor and walked back into the cabin’s bright kitchen. “Who wants to play a game of cards?”

  “I do,” Shay answered, bouncing on her knees on the chair. “So does Jingle.”

  Connor scooped up the kitten, which was pawing at the downturned cards Connor had left on the table. “Are you feeding this thing rocks?” He set the kitten onto the floor and watched him dart to the other side of the room. “He’s probably doubled his weight since we found him.”

  April lightly pounded her palm on the table. “Hey, let’s focus here. What did your editor think of the book? She loved it, right? Of course she loved it, because it’s a fantastic story. It’s flawless. Un-put-downable.”

  “That’s not a word,” Ranie said, but she was smiling.

  “It should be,” April countered. “I have bags under my eyes from staying up half the night to finish it.”

  Connor didn’t bother to point out that reading wasn’t the only reason she’d been up late, and he tried to ignore the fact that April’s praise for his story meant more than anything his editor had said to him.<
br />
  “What did she say?” April asked again.

  “She liked it.”

  She raised her brows. “Liked?”

  “Maybe she used the words ‘guaranteed bestseller.’” Connor ducked his head, feeling color rise to his cheeks. That wasn’t possible. He was a guy. Guys didn’t blush. But he’d never felt comfortable with hearing praise for his work. Writing was personal for him, the characters milling about his head as the story formed and took a life of its own. He molded and shaped them, but they still came from a very private part of who he was. It was the piece he’d thought he’d lost when Margo and Emmett died. The part that April had helped him rediscover.

  She and the girls gave a great cheer. He saw April start to rise from her chair, then lower back down again, folding her hands together on the table so tightly her knuckles turned white.

  “Congratulations,” she said, and the tone of her voice had changed to a hollow, thready rasp. “It looks like our work here is done.”

  He sucked in a breath as both girls turned to stare at her. He knew what she meant. His flight back to California was scheduled in two days. In the excitement of Christmas and keeping the girls busy, they’d been avoiding the inevitable conversation about him leaving. He still wasn’t ready to tackle it.

  But now that April had broached the subject, Ranie took up the mantle.

  “Did you talk to Aunt Tracy?” she asked, glancing at Jingle, who was chasing the shadow cast on the floor in front of the window by the branches bobbing in the winter wind.

  April bit down on her lip. “I did, and apparently your cousin Tommy is allergic to cats.”

  Ranie shook her head. “That’s not true. They used to have a cat. I remember it.”

  “Obviously, something has changed,” April snapped, and then ducked her head as if she regretted it. “I’m sorry, but you knew there was a good chance you wouldn’t be able to bring Jingle to California. It’s why I didn’t want—”

  “I don’t want to go to California.” Shay threw her cards on the table and jumped from her chair. “The twins are gross. They burp and fart and Tommy eats his boogers.” She bent and lifted Jingle into her arms.

  April’s heart stuttered as the kitten nuzzled into the little girl’s neck. “They’re boys, sweetie, but they’ll get better.” She glanced at Connor for support.

  “Just watch out if they try to ‘Dutch oven’ you,” he said, pointing at each girl.

  Ranie grimaced. “I don’t even want to know what that is.”

  “It’s when—”

  April slashed the air with her hand. “Not helping, Connor.”

  “Why can’t we stay here with you?” Shay asked.

  The question, which had been running on a constant loop inside April’s head for the past few days, still shocked her. Hearing the words spoken in Shay’s sweet voice was like a punch to her heart.

  “I would love to keep you,” April told her, making her voice soft, “but Aunt Tracy is your family. She understands—”

  “We don’t even know her,” Shay argued. “She won’t let us keep Jingle and there are so many dumb rules in her house.”

  “She’s a good mom to her boys.” April could feel desperation rising like a tidal wave up her spine. She needed to convince these girls she was doing the right thing. But how was she supposed to when she couldn’t quite believe it herself? “She’ll take care of you.”

  “We want you to take care of us.” The kitten mewed as Shay squeezed him tighter.

  April’s gaze flicked to Ranie, but the girl was staring at the floor, her arms held tight to her side. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “We’ll be good,” Shay said, and the fact that she thought April’s refusal had anything to do with who she and her sister were or how they acted was another painful stab inside April. “We won’t eat much, and we can help—”

  “I might die,” April yelled suddenly, and the silence that followed was so charged she expected to see electricity sparking the air around them.

  Shay let out a small whimper.

  “I’m sorry.” April took a step closer to the girl, but Shay backed up until her legs hit the couch. “After everything you went through with your mommy, I can’t bear the thought of putting you girls at risk of watching me get sick again.”

  Ranie moved until she was standing next to her sister. “You’re not sick,” she muttered between clenched teeth. “You just don’t want us.”

  “That’s not—”

  The cat meowed and squirmed in Shay’s arms, jumping to the floor and darting from the room. Shay started to follow, tears streaming down her face, then stopped and turned to April. “We don’t want you right back,” she screamed. “I hate you.”

  April sucked in a shattered breath and watched the young girl disappear up the stairs. She turned to Ranie. “I’m sorry. I don’t want her to be upset. I’ll make her understand.”

  The girl only glared at her. “She already does,” she said, and followed her sister.

  April watched her go, wanting to reach out but knowing she had nothing to offer either of the girls. She rounded on Connor. “You could have helped me,” she snapped. “You could have helped me make it better for them. I can’t keep them. They need to understand I’m too big a risk.”

  His green eyes, which this morning had been so full of light and affection, were blank as he stared at her. “Life is a risk,” he said. “What you’re giving those girls is a lame excuse.”

  “Lame?” she sputtered. “I had breast cancer, Connor. The same disease that killed their mother. I could get sick again. That’s real. I could die.”

  He gave a laugh so odd and disturbing it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “You could die tomorrow,” he whispered. “You could step off a curb and get hit by a car. That’s real, April. Life is a risk, and sending those girls away isn’t doing them any favors. It isn’t helping them. It’s being a coward.”

  The truth of his words sliced through her, and all her pent-up fear and pain poured forth, flooding her with everything she’d tried to repress for so long. All the ways she was lacking stood out in stark relief, and she hated it. Hated herself at this moment. Hated Connor Pierce.

  “Don’t talk to me about being a coward,” she said, her breath coming out in shallow pants. “Not when you’re packing to return to your cutoff life, alone and hiding out and using your grief as a weapon against anyone who tries to get close to you.”

  “That’s not what I do,” he ground out.

  “Then don’t leave,” she told him, and gasped at her own boldness. She hadn’t meant to say the words, but she was too raw and open now to hold them back any longer. “Stay here with me, Connor. Help me be brave. Give me your strength and I’ll give you mine and together we can—”

  “There is no ‘we.’” His voice was so cold it sent a chill through her.

  “I love you,” she said without thinking.

  He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

  “You know it’s true whether I speak the words or not.” She took a step toward him, another piece of her heart shattering when he flinched away from her touch. “I know you feel—”

  “You know nothing about me.” His jaw was clenched so tightly his mouth barely moved as he spit the words at her.

  “I know you want to pretend you don’t care, but it’s a lie.” She pointed to the stairs. “You care about those girls. You care about me. You are still alive, Connor.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “In here.”

  He grabbed her hand and yanked it away from his body. “I see what you’re doing, April. Everyone sees it. You make your whole life about other people, what they care about and what they need. You think if you work hard enough for your friends, they’ll mistake that for you truly being involved. But you’re just as cutoff as
I am. We’re the same, and we both know how this is going to end. How it was always meant to end. It ends with both of us alone. What if I said yes to you? What if I told you right now that I want to make a life with you and the girls? We could be a family if you just said the word. How would you answer?”

  She swallowed, her gut suddenly twisted. This is what you wanted, she told herself. But she couldn’t force her mouth to form the word yes. She wanted to. Wanted to mend the hearts of those girls upstairs. And she certainly didn’t want to admit that she’d let fear rule her life. Yet, how could she deny it?

  She bit down on her lip for several moments before finally asking, “What does it matter how I’d answer? You’re not asking the question, are you?”

  “Not when you’re too afraid to answer it,” he whispered, and walked past her.

  April glanced around the kitchen and sucked in a harsh breath. There was a stack of Shay’s drawings on the counter and the cards from the abandoned game were still strewn across the table. It was so different from her neat and tidy apartment.

  Two weeks on the mountain and this cabin felt like home. The girls and Connor were the family she secretly craved. But he was right. She was scared to claim that future. If she got sick again, what would happen if they left her? What if she wasn’t perfect, couldn’t take care of them and everyone walked away? What if watching them leave broke her heart in a way she couldn’t mend?

  * * *

  Connor heard footsteps pounding down the stairs as he stared at his computer several hours later. The bluish glow of the screen was bright in the fading light of afternoon, casting shadows across the wool rug and hardwood floor. His editor had emailed again, this time to say they were fast-tracking the publication of his book and asking about dates for a possible six-city book tour.

  The thought of traveling the country and standing in front of groups of readers made his stomach jump and turn. He’d managed the holiday party in Crimson because of April and the girls. To face people, to pretend to be human on his own, was a daunting prospect. But April had been right in what she’d accused him of in the kitchen. He was a coward, afraid to put himself out there again, and risk hurt and heartbreak.