by Marta Perry
Allie reluctantly did the same, trying to press the negative thoughts of her family aside. “The forecast predicts snow tonight, which would give everyone a great base for the snowman building contest tomorrow morning.”
“Snow gingerbread man,” Jordan corrected.
“Ugh, you had to say the G-word.” Allie clutched her stomach.
“Come on, you.” Jordan slung his arm around Allie’s shoulders and propelled her toward the gym door. “We’ve got work to do for tomorrow.”
“Does that include a nap?” Allie tried to keep her tone light and playful but heard the quiver in her voice. Would Jordan’s touch ever cease to affect her? Did he feel the same way at all?
“If we get everything done, then you can get off work at 3:30 instead of 5:00. Deal?” Jordan’s arm dropped from around her as he opened the door for them to exit.
Allie stepped outside, squinting against the brightness. The noon sun warmed her skin—but the absence of Jordan’s embrace chilled her to the core. She closed her eyes and shivered. “Deal.”
Chapter Seven
A snowball slid, wet and cold, down the neck of Jordan’s sweater. “Hey!” He spun around, searching for the culprit. Children in bright ski jackets rolled balls of snow against the icy front yard of the high school, packing them into place with the help of their parents. The more experienced crafters meticulously carved designs into their snowman creations with ice picks and colored dye. No one looked as if they’d just launched an icy attack.
A snort sounded from his left. He turned to see Allie attempting to cover a laugh with her gloved hand.
“Very subtle.” Jordan walked slowly toward her, pausing to scoop a handful of snow from the ground. He rolled it between his hands as he neared her spot by a tree. “You do realize I’m still your boss?”
Allie ducked, covering her face with her arms. “Maybe I didn’t think this one through.”
“I’ll say.” Jordan aimed the snowball with a grin. Allie squealed and ran. Jordan made a quick maneuver to head her off, but his legs slipped out from under him. He fell, one foot accidentally tripping up Allie’s escape. She crashed to the ground beside him with a shriek.
Jordan rolled to his side. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Allie swiped snow from her face and laughed. “But I’m starting to realize the original snowball wasn’t worth it.” She sat up.
Jordan grinned as he pulled himself into a sitting position beside her. “You’ve got snow in your hair.” He pulled off his glove and gently brushed at the ice clinging to her curls. His fingers tangled in the dark strands.
Allie’s gaze met his, vulnerable and open for the first time since she came back into his life. They stared at each other. The chatter and laughter of the contestants around them faded until all Jordan could hear was the heavy thumping of his heart. He forced his gaze away from her mouth, trying not to wonder… He swallowed against his dry throat. “Allie, I—”
“There you are!” Mayor Cubley ambled toward them, holding a camera. A wide grin was stretched across his full cheeks. “The judges had a few questions for you two before they begin the scoring process.”
Jordan looked back at Allie. The expression in her eyes hovered between relief and disappointment, mirroring the feeling in his own gut. He nodded at the mayor as he stood, pulling Allie up with him. “No problem, Mayor.”
“Let’s get a quick shot of the brainpower behind the return of the Gingerbread Festival.” Mayor Cubley raised his camera. “Everybody say snowman!”
Jordan forced a smile and looped a casual arm around Allie’s shoulder for the picture. Talk about bad timing. He’d been close to kissing her, but such a move would have surely been the final nail in their coffin. How could he win back her trust and friendship if she thought he was coming on to her? Then again, there had been a look of disappointment in her eyes. Had he only imagined it? Would Allie want his kiss after all this time? He’d done nothing to earn it.
They followed the mayor toward the table of judges, who pointed at clipboards and gestured to the surrounding gingerbread-snowmen. Jordan drew a deep breath of frigid air and tried to focus on the judges.
He’d never know now.
Allie stared numbly at the rows of gaily decorated gingerbread-snowmen, vaguely aware of the judge’s questions being asked of her. Jordan answered each one, but the words wouldn’t compute. All she could think about was the unspoken message in Jordan’s eyes when he’d gently cradled her face with his hand. Even though his fingers had been cold, heat had warmed her all the way to her boot-clad feet. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her.
And for an even briefer moment, she’d wanted him to.
The judges began to announce the contest winners, and a young child and his dad slapped a high five at their victory. Allie smiled as she handed the duo a small trophy, donated by a local store. The community had really rallied around the week’s events, and from the grin on Jordan’s face as he congratulated the winners and runners-up, he realized it, too. Maybe now he could relax and drop his concerns about the townspeople not participating.
Allie waved at her niece, Sophie, and her brother-in-law, Tim, who stood by their lopsided creation a few entries down the line. They hadn’t even placed, but Sophie didn’t seem to care as she proudly snapped a picture of their snowman.
Allie’s smile wavered. What would it be like to one day participate in the Gingerbread Festival with her own children? She’d been so focused on her career these past few years. Was it worth it? She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her mother and Molly certainly seemed happy. But then again, she thought she had been, too—until she’d lost her job.
And Jordan walked back into her life.
Confusion swirled like the snowflakes that stirred the ground, and Allie lifted her face to the gray, overcast sky. But any answer remained locked in the clouds.
“What are you doing out here alone?” Molly’s voice rose above the wind as Allie trudged through the snow, toward the trails leading to the Christmas trees. “It’s almost dark.”
Allie clicked on her flashlight. “Just needed some fresh air.”
Molly walked toward her, hands shoved into the front pockets of her red peacoat. “You sure do require a lot of air lately.” She joined Allie on the path and looked up. “It is a nice night, though.”
Allie followed her gaze. The clouds from earlier in the day had drifted, leaving a clear sky that quickly faded to dusk. Remnants of hot pink and orange still painted the horizon. She let out a slow breath and started walking. “Fresh air is code for thinking.”
Molly fell into step beside her. “About Jordan?”
Allie hesitated a beat. “How’d you know?”
“We’re sisters.” Molly playfully hip-bumped her in the side. “I always knew about your crushes growing up. Besides, you didn’t make it that hard—you kept your journal under your mattress for the world to find.”
“I thought younger sisters were supposed to be the snoops.”
Molly shrugged. “I was bored. We lived in the middle of nowhere.” She gestured to the green expanse of trees around them.
“Well, you got over that quick.” Allie’s voice sobered. “Now you have the perfect life. You’re probably never bored.”
Molly snorted. “You’re half-right. I’m rarely bored, but my life is far from perfect.”
Beside them, a squirrel ran down a tree. Allie flicked the light farther down the path. “How is that possible? You have a husband, a family, a successful business.” Not for the first time, jealousy raked its nails across Allie’s back.
“Every gift comes with struggles.” Molly kicked at a pine-cone. “Business is good, but it’s also stressful because of how busy I stay. And of course I love Tim, but we have our disagreements like every couple.” She sighed. “And Sophie is the best thing that ever happened to us, but again, there are rough days—days when I wonder if I’m fit to be a mom.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.�
�� Allie stopped walking, the flashlight hanging limp at her side. “You’ve always had it all together—like superwoman. Even as kids, you were the one with the straight A’s, the athletic ability, the popular crowd. You’re the last person who should have self-esteem issues.”
“I wish.” Molly snorted. “Do you seriously believe that I—or anyone else—has it better than you? I know losing your job had to be hard, but you didn’t hit rock bottom, Al. You had a safety net. Most people in your position would kill for that kind of padding.”
Molly was right. If it hadn’t been for her parents letting her live with them temporarily—for free, no less—she’d have been in real trouble. Yet instead of showing her appreciation, she’d been walking around expecting others to voice the disappointment she felt in her own heart.
“You got quiet.” Molly started walking again, her boots shuffling against the snow. “Did I say too much?”
“No, just enough.” Allie shook her head. “Something to think about, Mol. Thanks.” Molly was right. She was very blessed, and her faith should be stronger than this. Growing up, she’d always believed everything happened for a reason; yet for the first time in her life, she was expected to live out that faith, and she’d faltered. What did that say about her?
Allie fought to draw a deep breath. She focused her attention on the deepening shadows of the evening sky instead. Twinkling stars were just beginning to poke through a velvet backdrop, and the wind rustled the tops of the trees, branches silhouetted against the night. The breeze chilled her cheeks, and she pressed her gloved hands against them for warmth.
“So, tell me about Jordan. Is it difficult working with him?” Molly’s voice cut the stillness.
“A little.” It felt good to admit the truth out loud. “But it’s a job, and I like the work. Besides, I’ll be going back to Kansas City eventually.” She swallowed. “I can handle temporary.”
Molly paused. “I think he still has feelings for you.”
“What?” Allie stopped short on the path, snow crunching under her boots. “That’s crazy.” Jordan had been very professional in their weeks together, though the last few days he’d made more of an effort toward friendship. They worked in close quarters and for a common goal. All work and no play would get old fast. That’s all it was.
Then again, there had been that almost-kiss at the snowman competition—if she hadn’t imagined it.
“Not crazy at all. It’s pretty obvious the way he looks at you and the way he hung around the porch that night after dropping off your scarf.” Molly pointed the flashlight at Allie and grinned. “And I think you might just feel the same way about him, too.”
Allie batted the light away. “Trust me, Molly, that ship has sailed and sunk. Besides, Jordan was the one who broke up with me. I doubt he’s changed his mind in the last decade.” The fact coated her insides with a chill much deeper than the one teasing her skin through her coat. She might have left Jordan on the porch the other week, but he’d left her in the cold first. She snatched the flashlight from her sister and shone it on the path. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
Molly smirked, then turned to lead the way. Her words floated over her shoulder and straight into Allie’s heart. “All right, but your face says it all, Allie—in letters just as big and bold as your old journal entries.”
Chapter Eight
“Good news.” Jordan sat back in his office desk chair with a loud squeak of leather. “I counted up the guests’ donations last night with Mayor Cubley after you left the snowman contest, and we’ve already raised significant funds just from the first two events.”
“That’s great.” Across the desk on the floor, Allie looked up briefly from the banner she was making for that night’s competition and smiled. “Every little bit will help.” She pressed a cutout gingerbread man onto the banner, testing to see if the glue would stick to the canvas. It felt good to forget her own struggles temporarily and invest her energy into something tangible and worthwhile like this community program. Taking the job of Jordan’s assistant had proven good for Allie in ways deeper than just a paycheck—though she had to admit she was looking forward to Christmas shopping this week.
“That’s not all,” Jordan continued. “According to the mayor, several shop owners in nearby cities have seen our advertising for the big Christmas Eve finale and love the idea. They’ve even inquired about leasing store space here. They think Ginger Falls is charming and want in before all the good property is gone.” He grinned mischievously. “Of course, I didn’t tell them it would take quite a while to fill up all the free spaces.”
Allie shook her head in amazement. “All because of a gingerbread bake-off and a snowman contest?” Who would have thought they’d be this successful this fast?
“It’s not because of the events. It’s because of the heart of the city.” Jordan leaned forward, seemingly unable to contain his excitement. “They can see what we’re all about here in Ginger Falls—and they want to be a part of it.” He slapped the desk with one hand and beamed. “Isn’t that great?”
“You’re really passionate about this, aren’t you?” Allie set down the bottle of glue and studied Jordan, the light in his eyes, the flush in his face as he talked. Maybe that was her problem. Allie had enjoyed the bookstore she’d worked at, had liked being around books all day and assisting customers. It’d been fulfilling—but it had never stirred inside her what obviously stirred inside Jordan. Was passion the missing ingredient for success?
“It’s what I’ve wanted for years, ever since I came back to visit and saw how much the city had changed.” He sobered. “It just didn’t seem right. California was a real eye-opener to my priorities—taught me the importance of slowing down and appreciating the little things.” His gaze pierced hers as she looked up. “And the value of second chances.”
Allie picked up the scissors and cut out another star, trying not to extract any extra meaning from Jordan’s gaze. She fought to keep her voice steady despite her trembling fingers. “Ginger Falls certainly deserves a second chance.”
“Right. Ginger Falls.” Jordan’s voice trailed off.
She glued the last star and lifted both arms in a stretch, hoping Jordan couldn’t hear her heart pounding from across the room. Of course he couldn’t possibly have been talking about their relationship. Molly’s little speech last night must have put crazy ideas in her head—and that was the last thing her heart needed. “I think that’s it for this one.”
Jordan stood and peered over the desk. “Wow. I had no idea I hired an artist when I hired an assistant.”
“Hardly.” Allie wrinkled her nose as she studied the banner. Glittery stars, gingerbread men and green and red candies decorated the white background. Bold letters in the middle spelled out the details for that afternoon’s gingerbread man cookie-decorating contest.
“You’re too modest.” Jordan came around to her spot on the floor and offered a hand to help her up. “You’re very talented, Allie. You’ve been a great help around here these few weeks we’ve been together.”
She accepted his offer and stood, ignoring how wonderful the word together sounded on his lips. She avoided meeting his eyes as she tugged her hand free. If she looked up now, she’d inevitably invite that near-kiss from yesterday, and that would be nothing but a disaster.
An amazing, wonderful, perfect disaster but a disaster all the same.
“We’d better head over to Main Street and get this banner hung. There’s only three hours until the event.” She stepped away from Jordan and stared at the canvas on the floor, hoping he didn’t notice the tremble in her voice. She struggled to keep her mind on the upcoming tasks. “Were all the toppings donated as we requested, or should we run through the grocery store first?”
Jordan squatted down and carefully began to roll up the banner. “Theo and some of the others from the diner said they had it covered. Gumdrops, icing, licorice, sprinkles and jelly beans, right?”
Allie nodded slowly. She deba
ted helping Jordan roll the banner, but then she’d be near him again, their heads close together, hands nearly touching as they met in the middle at the canvas. No. Definitely not. She busied herself with throwing on her coat instead, taking her time with her scarf.
“Theo said yesterday that his business has boomed so much over the last two days from guests attending the festival that he’s nearly doubled his profits, even after deducting the costs of his donations.” Jordan stood, the banner tucked under his arm. “Things are really moving along.”
“Right on schedule.” Allie forced a smile as she quickly collected the string and scissors with which to tie the banner. Things were moving along all right, including her time in Ginger Falls. If her requested loan didn’t come through, what would she do? Could she really be happy staying in Ginger Falls, living with her parents or in a small apartment, working for Jordan? Would there be enough work for her to do after the holidays to keep her employed? She’d probably have to find another job and try to save enough cash to move back to Kansas City. Then she’d be the one leaving Jordan in her dust.
Allie stuffed the supplies in her purse and allowed Jordan to open the office door for her, reminding him to lock it behind them as they headed for the elevator. She studied his chiseled jaw and dark hair as they waited in the hallway for the elevator. He whistled under his breath, the banner tucked under one arm, the other hand slung casually in his jacket pocket. He was even more handsome than he’d been the last time she’d seen him, a freshman in college.
She looked away before he could catch her stare. Before, the thought of leaving brought comfort to her bruised ego. It would serve Jordan right for her to leave and never look back like he’d done to her ten years ago.
But for some reason now, it only brought a heavy cloud of disappointment.
Jordan breathed a sigh of relief as he surveyed the contest going on before him. Another great turnout. Even the sun was shining this late afternoon, providing an extra bit of warmth for the eager children. A dozen tables full of kids and their parents filled the north end of Main Street, a plethora of brightly colored hats, jackets and scarves. The banner Allie had created was draped across the front of the dilapidated gazebo behind them, a cheerful contradiction to the gloomy, weakened structure. Three events down, two to go. That is, if they were able to pull off the big Christmas Eve finale.
