by Marta Perry
Chapter Five
Allie pulled a homemade Christmas ornament from the plastic tub and winced. “Mom, I can’t believe you kept this. It doesn’t even look like a reindeer anymore.”
Her mother laughed and took the lopsided, wooden decoration from Allie’s hand. “You say that every year.”
Allie’s sister, Molly, draped another layer of tinsel on the bottom branches of the tree. “Wait until you become a parent, Allie. You’ll love that stuff. I know Tim and I do.” She glanced at her four-year-old daughter, Sophie, who was busy sucking on a candy cane. “It’s priceless.”
“That’s right.” Her mother hung the reindeer ornament on a prominent branch. “You’ll understand one day.”
Allie pulled her knees up to her chest and clasped her arms around them, forcing a smile. Her mother and sister meant well, but it seemed like they were always reminding Allie how she wasn’t part of the “mom” club. She hadn’t planned on being twenty-eight and single. Once upon a time, she’d imagined herself decorating a Christmas tree with several of her own children helping out.
“Who wants cocoa?” Her father’s voice boomed as he appeared in the doorway, holding a tray laden with goodies.
“Me!” Sophie sprung up, abandoning her sticky candy cane. “With marshmallows!”
Her mother took the tray and passed out steaming mugs. Molly sat down with Sophie in her lap and showed her how to blow on the hot chocolate to cool it off. “Isn’t this nice?’ her mother said. “All of us together for Christmas again. Well, except for Tim, but he’ll be here later, right, Molly?”
As her sister nodded, Allie’s head throbbed with sudden repressed tears, and she stood. “It’s getting hot in here. I’m going to take my cocoa on the porch.”
“Everything all right?” Her mother’s brows arched. “I can turn the heater down.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” Allie hurried out the front door before anyone could argue.
The night wind caressed Allie’s face as she settled into one of the white rockers and pushed off with her feet. She swayed back and forth with the breeze, grateful for the cool air that took the edge off her frustration. If she ever wanted to be a real member of the family, she’d have to be married—like Molly. Have a child—like Molly. Be successful—like Molly. How many times had their mother mentioned Molly’s catering business in the past three days?
Allie closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of her failures and focus on the tree frogs’ nighttime chorus instead. She’d forgotten how peaceful and calming country life was—like a balm to her soul. Her old apartment in Kansas City bounced with activity and constant noise—music from the neighbors’ teenagers, dogs barking, car horns honking.
Headlights swept across the porch as an SUV pulled into the long drive. Allie planted her feet to stop the rocking with a jerk. Who would be out in her parents’ neck of the woods this late in the evening? The driver’s door opened, and a tall, trim figure stepped outside. Dark shadows hid his identity, and his footsteps crunched the snow as he made his way toward the path. Allie hesitated, not sure if she should call for her father or demand to know the stranger’s name.
Before she could decide, the porch light illuminated Jordan’s face. Allie stood as he easily scaled the porch stairs. “What are you doing here?”
“You left your scarf in the office.” Jordan held up the plaid scarf Allie had worn to work that morning. “I thought you might need it tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Allie took the long swatch of fabric from him and draped it around her neck. “You didn’t have to bring it all the way out here. I could have gotten it tomorrow.”
“I didn’t mind the drive. It’s a nice night. Besides, I don’t think I’ve been here since the pregraduation party your family hosted for our senior class.” Jordan shoved his hands in his jacket pocket and rocked back on his heels. He glanced around the house with a smile. “Looks like not much has changed.”
Allie cleared her throat. “It’s been nearly a decade. You must have a great head for directions if you remembered how to get here.”
Jordan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “My car has a GPS.”
“Oh. Right.” So he didn’t remember after all. Allie shoved aside her disappointment and dared to glance into his eyes. Still deep chocolate-brown, with the lethal capability to melt her like a Hershey’s bar. She looked away before her emotions surpassed her good judgment. It didn’t matter what she felt. She was only here for a few weeks, then she’d be back where the protests of her heart could be safely drowned out by the noise of Kansas City. Back where she could hopefully throw herself into a new business and really show her family what she was capable of—with or without a man.
“Would you like to come in?” Allie straightened her spine, determined not to show her vulnerability. Just because they weren’t at work didn’t mean she had to lose her professionalism. It was the only way she’d survive these few weeks.
“Actually, I’d like to talk out here, if that’s all right.” Jordan rested his weight against the porch railing and crossed his arms over his chest. A hint of a rust-colored sweater peeked beneath the dark leather of his jacket, and Allie remembered all those times during high school football games that she’d buried herself under the soft folds of his coat and snuggled into his embrace. She shivered imagining his warmth.
“Are you cold? I’m sorry. Here I am keeping you outside, and you don’t even have a coat.” Jordan pulled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before Allie could protest.
It smelled like his spicy cologne—and the past. The porch reeled with the sudden onslaught of memories, and Allie clutched the jacket around her, desperate to hold on to the good times. Jordan, grinning at her from the driver’s seat of his beat-up Camaro as she slid in for a date. She and Jordan, snuggled together on the bench of the gazebo on Main Street, pretending it was much colder outside than it was. Jordan, racing around the track at a meet and blowing her a kiss from the finish line.
Then the happy recollections faded into grim reality. Jordan, ignoring her e-mails the month before Christmas break. Jordan, putting off her phone calls. Jordan, daring to break her heart at their special spot inside the town’s gazebo.
A sudden wave of anger burned through Allie, and she shoved the jacket back into his arms. “You know, I’m suddenly not feeling very well.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d never felt more nauseous in her life.
Jordan frowned with surprise. “I’m sorry, was it something—”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?” She flashed a quick smile in his direction, averting her eyes to hide the tears pooling within, and reached for the doorknob. Please, just go. Don’t make me be rude. She drew a deep breath, determined to calm down and not let him see her pain, despite the emotions welling inside.
Jordan’s confused expression lingered in front of her as he murmured a surprised agreement. “Of course. Tomorrow, then.”
She wrenched the knob with more force than necessary, offering a quick wave and shutting the door against his well wishes. She pressed a hand to her stomach as she planted her back against the closed door and slid to a sitting position. Tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. She pushed her fingers against her pounding temples.
Then she realized she still had no idea what Jordan had wanted to talk about.
Jordan winced as the front door shut tightly against its frame. He looked at his coat and then back at the house as if either object could give him an answer.
He’d come over to give Allie the scarf, hoping she wouldn’t see through the flimsy excuse and into his desire just to be near her. They’d been apart not even three hours this evening when he realized how much he missed her smile. Her laugh. Her kind words.
All of which, unfortunately, had been directed at various vendors of Ginger Falls today and not at him.
Jordan slipped his arms back into the sleeves of his coat, then jerked as the front
door squeaked open again. An older, blond version of Allie stepped outside, one hand clutching a little girl’s arm. She looked up in surprise. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anyone knock.” She glanced back toward the house and then at Jordan. “Who are you?”
She didn’t remember him. It was not surprising, as Molly had been in college when he and Allie dated. “I’m Jordan, Allie’s ex—I mean, her friend. No, her boss.” Jordan held out his hand with a sheepish smile. “Hi. I’m Jordan.”
“Molly, Allie’s sister. And this is Sophie.” Molly ruffled the child’s hair. “We were about to head home for the night. Do you want me to get Allie for you?”
“No, that’s okay. We already talked. I was just leaving.”
Confusion puzzled Molly’s eyes. “Okay, if you’re sure. Good night, then.” She waved as they started down the stairs, and Sophie did the same, her smile coated with what looked like chocolate stains. Jordan’s heart softened at the sight. He’d always wanted kids of his own one day. He had always pictured them with a mop of Allie’s curly hair and his own dark eyes.
But those pictures had long since faded.
Molly hesitated on the bottom step. “Wait. Jordan…Jordan Walker?”
“That’s me.” Jordan lifted both arms in a shrug.
“I get it now.” Molly smirked before opening the door to her car. “If I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath out here, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry, she’s my employee now, nothing more.” Unfortunately. After her quick exit just now, he probably stood a better chance at catching a star than becoming Allie’s friend again.
He made his way toward his own SUV, waving goodbye to Sophie as Molly secured the child in her booster seat. Nothing like going home on a cold night with only a reality check for company. He pulled his keys from his pocket. It was his own fault. He should’ve realized what he’d had ten years ago and not wasted so much time trying to please other people.
“Jordan?”
He turned silently at Molly’s call.
She grinned before sliding behind the steering wheel. “On second thought, it might be a good idea to hold that breath just a little while longer.” She gestured toward the house.
Jordan followed her pointing finger with his eyes just in time to see the lacy front curtain fall back into place.
Chapter Six
“I can’t believe Christmas is less than one week away.” Allie adjusted the dark green cloth on the card table so it hung straight on both sides. She’d been in Ginger Falls for almost two weeks. Now it was Sunday afternoon, and the festival they’d been working toward all this time would start tomorrow.
“I know. Everything is really coming together. Did you fax those reminder flyers to the list of businesses I gave you?” Jordan popped out the legs of the second table and swung it into position. The clatter echoed against the gym walls. The local high school had given their permission to host the first event in the gym, so there would be plenty of space for everyone during the contest.
“Yes, and I received confirmations from all of them. I did that Friday—before I knew you’d have me working on a Sunday afternoon.” Allie scrunched her nose at Jordan.
He laughed, and the deep timbre shivered up her spine. Allie quickly reached down for the bag of fake snow and began to spread the glittery cotton over the tablecloth. She’d learned over the past several days how to distract herself every time her emotions threatened to take over. Better to ignore her growing feelings for Jordan than to follow her heart’s instinct and plant a big kiss on the five o’clock shadow he couldn’t seem to keep off his cheeks, regardless of the time of day.
“I normally would never ask an employee to work on a Sunday.” Jordan stepped back from the tables lining the back wall and studied them before continuing. “But the gingerbread bake-off starts so early in the morning that it’d be impossible to get everything set up before then. We’ll be done in plenty of time for you to make it back to the evening service, if that was your plan.”
“Are you going?” Allie hoped he didn’t think the question was an invitation. It was more of a security measure. If he was, she’d rather camp out in the guest room at her parents’ house and study her Bible alone than sit by Jordan in a pew again. That Sunday morning had been brutal. She’d been sitting on the end of the row beside her father when Jordan slipped inside the back of the church and whispered for her to move down. She’d had no choice but to comply and spent the rest of the service trying to make sure their elbows didn’t brush for fear of a chemistry fire.
“I’d like to.” He flashed a bright smile. “What about you?”
Allie shrugged and focused on the snow arrangement she was creating. Her conscience pricked at how she’d practically thrown his jacket at him the other night, and she stole at glance at Jordan’s broad back as he lifted a giant gingerbread cutout onto the center of one of the tables. She realized she didn’t know what she wanted anymore, other than peace.
And being around Jordan was the most chaos her heart had experienced in a long time.
For the first time in his professional life, Jordan felt nervous. He ran a hand through his hair, forgetting he’d carefully styled it that morning for the big event, and paced the front of the gym. The gingerbread bake-off was scheduled to start within the half hour, and so far, the room was empty, save for Allie and a handful of high school volunteers, off school for winter break. What if no one showed up? What if all their advertising was for naught? What if he failed miserably in his goal to restore Ginger Falls—not only its finances, but its heart?
To his right, Allie hunched over one of the tables, carefully adjusting the gingerbread house they’d pieced together at work on Friday. She’d been so adorable, her nose wrinkled in concentration as she glued together gingerbread walls with thick icing. They’d worked together great that next week, but Allie was still keeping a distance that belied their once-close friendship. Maybe it was for the best. After all, she reminded him almost daily how she couldn’t wait to get back to Kansas City.
“You all right?” Allie made her way over to Jordan, brushing glitter from the table off the front of her dress pants. She’d traded her typical casual work attire for black slacks and a powder-blue top that made her eyes even bluer.
“Just worried if this event will be a success or not.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the gym door, which was propped open to encourage passersby to stop in. “I’m a little concerned that no one is here yet.”
“We did a lot of advertising and received good feedback from the surrounding communities. I think you can relax.” Allie patted his arm, then snatched her hand back, feeling her cheeks go red. “I better go check on the food Theo brought.” She scurried across the gym, leaving Jordan with an imprint on his forearm and a warmth in his stomach that had nothing to do with his nerves.
You are such a glutton for punishment. Allie berated herself the entire way to the snack table. She forced a smile at Theo, the diner owner, who was scooping ice into plastic cups. “Anything you need here?”
“Nope, we’re all set. I’ll head back to the diner in a few minutes, after I finish this.” Theo waved the ice scooper. “Thank you kindly.”
“No problem.” Allie turned slowly, wishing she had something productive to do to stay busy—in other words, to avoid Jordan. He looked so jittery. She had to admit she felt the same—just not for the same reasons. God, please help me to focus on the event today and not mess things up. You know how good I am at that lately.
A group of middle-aged women strode into the gym, each carrying a platter full of gingerbread. Her mother and Molly were right behind them, their contest entries covered in aluminum foil. Allie let out a slow breath as more people filed inside the gym, including Mayor Cubley and his committee, as well as Greta from the gift shop on Main Street. Looks like they’d have some participation today after all. She glanced at Jordan, who deflated with relief.
Allie hurried over to the group to begin assi
gning numbers to the gingerbread entries and marking places on the table. There was no time to worry—about Jordan or her family. She had a town to save.
And a heart to protect.
“I’m never eating gingerbread again.” Allie lay on the gym floor with her arms sprawled to the sides. Beside her, Jordan stood, arms crossed as he looked down at her prone figure with a knowing smirk. If she had the energy, she’d kick him. But that would require moving. After being so busy, she had zero energy.
“No one told you to sample a piece of every entry. You weren’t even a judge.” Jordan eased into a sitting position beside her on the hardwood floor. “You do know this floor is filthy?”
“I don’t care.” Allie moaned. “Is all the gingerbread gone?”
Jordan looked toward the back of the gym where the high school volunteers were taking down the tables. “Looks like it. Mostly due to you.”
She laughed as she struggled upright. “You can’t blame me for participating. Besides, I saw you carrying around at least three big pieces of that ginger-raisin loaf earlier.”
“Touché.” Jordan offered a hand to help, but Allie ignored it. She wasn’t about to ignite another spark between them.
She rested her weight on her palms, her legs stretched in front of her. “I never want to see gingerbread again. Or smell it.”
“Don’t be so sure you can escape that easily. I saw your sister’s muffins won first place.” Jordan smiled. “I’m sure there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Allie’s mood sank to join the rock in her stomach. Of course her ideal wife, mother-of-the-year sister would win. Their parents had been so wrapped up in Molly’s victory that they hadn’t even said goodbye when they left with her mini trophy.
“All in all, I’d say today was a big success. I heard several people mention they were bringing their families to tomorrow’s event.” Jordan stood and brushed at his slacks.
