by Marta Perry
“Jordan!” Mayor Cubley strode across the street, his trademark loafers leaving shadowed patches in the melted snow. “Great news, son. We’ve received permission to use Leonard Mitchell’s pasture for the festival finale. He said he could put his horses in another field for the night.”
“Great.” Jordan breathed a relieved sigh. “I was getting concerned about the location. We’ve advertised everything but where. I’ll have Allie make up some new signs with the details.”
“Everything still on with the pilot?”
“Yes, sir. We’re good to go. We’ll start the event off here on Main Street, then meet at Leonard’s field at seven o’clock for the picture. Probably wouldn’t hurt to offer a bus to help shuttle folks, so we don’t have cars parked all over Leonard’s farm. Then everyone can come back to Main Street afterward for the carriage rides.”
“No problem. I’ll handle the bus.” The mayor pulled a notepad from his shirt pocket and scribbled on the page. “This is shaping up to be a grand event,” he said with a smile.
“I think so, too.” Jordan turned to survey the rows of children busily decorating their cookies. He couldn’t help but laugh at Allie’s niece, Sophie, who had more icing on her face than on her cookie. The little girl bent carefully over her project, cheeks stuffed with gumdrops.
Mayor Cubley followed his gaze with a chuckle. “She’s quite the little artist.”
“Just like her aunt.” Jordan glanced around the square for Allie, who had vanished after helping him set up the event. Come to think of it, she said she’d been going to get hot chocolate, and that’d been almost an hour ago.
Jordan patted the mayor’s shoulder. “Mayor, I’m going to find Allie and talk business for a bit. I’ll catch you later.”
“Of course. You two remember to have some fun, now, you hear?” The mayor lowered his voice to a gruff warning, but the twinkle in his eyes belied the tone.
“Yes, sir.” Jordan waved and headed toward the refreshment table, set up by the curb on Main Street. There was no sign of Allie, but her sister Molly stood beside the large thermos of hot chocolate, pouring the liquid into a paper cup.
“Hi, there.” She waved as he drew near. “Great crowd today! How are things going so far?”
“Very well.” Jordan plucked a cup from the stack and helped himself.
“Are you a judge?”
“No, thank goodness.” Jordan dropped a few marshmallows into his cocoa. “It’d be hard to decide. I figure since I’m the program director I should remain a neutral party.”
“So I guess I can’t bribe you to vote for Sophie.” Molly laughed.
“If she keeps up at her current rate, she could win best decorated child, instead of cookie.”
Molly shook her head. “I better go play referee, then. I got her a cup of hot chocolate, but I’m guessing she’s already sugared out.”
“Have you seen Allie lately? I lost her in the crowd.”
“No. Actually, I haven’t seen her at all today.” Molly frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“I hope so. She was fine at work this afternoon. Did you see her banner?” Jordan gestured to the gazebo, where the advertisement hung. “She made it herself. Nice job, huh?”
Molly’s eyes darted to the colored canvas, and understanding dawned on her face. “This is the first event that’s been on Main Street this week, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, the first two were at the high school.” Jordan shrugged. “Why?” He followed Molly’s steady gaze, but the banner, now flapping slightly in the breeze, didn’t reveal the same secret.
Molly tossed her empty cup into the trash beside the re freshment table. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”
“Remember what?” What was the problem with Main Street? He frowned, looking back at the banner, then it hit him.
The gazebo.
The spot where he met Allie nearly a decade ago, during their first holiday break from college—the spot where he’d ended their relationship on Christmas Eve. He winced, his gaze jumping from the broken bench on the platform to the crooked steps, one dangling by a few nails. The structure obviously still held bad memories for Allie.
Funny—he could only remember the good ones.
Chapter Nine
Allie snuck down the stairs into the living room, sucking in her breath at the squeaky third step. She felt like a teenager again, tiptoeing around after curfew. Tonight, though, she was hoping to remain incognito for a different reason. Christmas Eve was two days away, and she had yet to enjoy her favorite tradition—even if she was a little embarrassed to admit she still looked forward to it every year.
But after the day she’d had, Allie needed all the holiday spirit she could stand.
She stumbled through the dark into the living room, fumbling around the floor by the wall for the extension cord. She found the little switch and pushed. The tree lit up, a soft glow that pressed away the deep shadows of the night.
With a quick glance at the empty staircase, Allie lay flat on the floor on her back and scooted until she was halfway under the tree, looking up through the sage-colored branches into the expanse of twinkling lights. Candy canes and red garland nestled against the limbs, while a variety of ornaments—store-bought and homemade—dangled amid the greenery. Allie narrowed her eyes to a squint, the golden lights now a shiny, twisting blur against the darkness. She breathed deeply of the evergreen scent and slowly released her breath, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Finally, the embrace of Christmas.
She hadn’t thought the gazebo would wrench her back in time the way it did. After all, she’d paid her dues to the structure when she first arrived back in town weeks ago. But standing beside Jordan at the very site where he’d broken her heart had been more than she could handle. She’d helped him hang the banner and kept her emotions in check, then made an excuse about getting a snack and carefully avoided him the rest of the event. She stayed to the background, making sure the hot chocolate kept flowing and the marshmallows didn’t run out. But despite Jordan’s obvious attempts at looking for her, she hadn’t been in the mood to talk with him again. If she was going to finish her job these next few weeks, she had to keep him at a distance. Seeing compassion—or worse, pity—in his eyes at her tears would have done her in.
Allie shifted on the tree skirt, trying to find a more comfortable place. Molly was wrong. Jordan didn’t still care for her the way he once did. If anything, he was just trying to be a friend. It wasn’t his fault her stubborn memories and feelings kept her locked in the past every time she was near him.
A thump sounded by the stairs. Allie jerked up, tree needles poking into her cheeks. “Ow!”
“Allie, is that you?” Her mother’s figure appeared by the tree. She knotted the belt of her robe and bent to peer beneath the greenery. “What are you doing down there?”
“Getting assaulted by tree branches.” Allie rubbed the sting on her forehead. So much for a peaceful break from reality. She started to pull herself out but stopped in surprise as her mother lowered herself to the floor.
Mom awkwardly wiggled her way under the branches beside Allie. “I remember the first time I saw you do this as a child.” She laughed.
Allie moved her head to give her mother more room, careful not to knock against the hard metal stand. “You all thought I was crazy.” It hadn’t been the first time Allie felt left out while she was growing up, and at this rate, she was pretty much guaranteed it wouldn’t be the last.
“Your sister thought you were nuts, that’s for sure.” Her mother laughed again. “But I thought it was creative. I always wondered what you saw under here that none of us did.” She angled her neck and peered through the branches as if searching for the secret.
“That’s easy.” Allie smiled. “I saw Christmas.”
“You know, you were—and are—a bright girl, Allie.” Her mom released a long breath. “I just don’t know why you always seemed drawn to take the hard path.”
A defensive bubble formed in Allie’s chest. “Easy isn’t always right.”
“That’s true. But at the same time, neither is the opposite. Life doesn’t always have to be difficult, the way you tend to make it.”
The easy camaraderie vanished beneath the tree, and Allie struggled to take a breath against the sudden weight on her chest. Here it came—the conversation her mother had obviously wanted to have ever since Allie’s arrival weeks ago. “We’re talking about my old job again, aren’t we?”
“If you’d taken the job we’d hoped you would after graduating, this wouldn’t have happened.” She twisted her head toward Allie, but Allie kept her gaze riveted to the tree.
She swallowed hard. “I know, Mom. But there’s something to be said for taking risks. Look at Jordan, for example. He loves this town so much that he was willing to invest his own finances in order to bring it back to the way it was before. Without him taking that risk, the entire town would be negatively affected.”
“You’re right. But not everyone is cut out to take those kinds of risks.”
“Was it not a risk for Molly to start a catering business?” Allie looked over at her mother. “How is that any different than my choice to pursue a career I was actually interested in? To pursue my dream of owning a bookstore?”
“Molly is older, settled. She’s married. She’s got a savings account and a fallback plan.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with Allie. “Why don’t you get settled before you move back to Kansas City with these lofty dreams?”
Allie clenched her fists as her frustration boiled over. Why couldn’t her mother just love her for who she was instead of for what she did? Allie would never be Molly. Would her family ever accept that? “That’s not possible.” She couldn’t stay indefinitely, even if she wanted to.
Not with Jordan in the same town.
Ironic that ten years ago, Jordan’s absence helped push Allie away from Ginger Falls. Now, his presence was accomplishing the exact same goal.
“Why not? Maybe you could even date Jordan again—all that stuff between you two was ages ago.” Her mother’s hand waved through the air in dismissal, almost knocking a penguin ornament off its branch. “I knew if I told you Jordan was the program director that you’d never have accepted the position the job agency offered.”
“You knew it was Jordan and didn’t warn me? How could you?”
“It was no big deal. You just needed a little push.” Her mom spun a toy top on a string, and the ornament bobbed against the branches.
“Let me ask you this—did you push Molly into her marriage, or was she capable of finding love on her own?” Allie edged out from under the tree. She couldn’t stay there and ruin her favorite holiday tradition any longer. This was exactly why she’d had to leave Ginger Falls in the first place. Her family hadn’t supported her goals then, and they didn’t now.
Her mother sat up, adjusting her robe as Allie hurried toward the staircase. “You don’t understand. I just want you to—”
“No, Mom. Trust me. I totally understand.” Allie hesitated at the bottom of the staircase, fighting back another rush of burning tears. “Thanks for believing in me.” She rushed up the stairs, leaving her mother alone on the living room floor.
The clinking of forks on plates and the low murmurs of patrons seemed nearly deafening in the silent tension that stretched across the chipped table. Jordan shut his laptop with a snap. “Okay, what’s going on?”
From the other side of the booth, Allie looked up from her plate with a start. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve barely spoken three words since we sat down, and you haven’t touched your food. Theo’s Morning Bird special is one of the best breakfast combos I’ve ever had.” Jordan gestured to Allie’s plate, still full of eggs, bacon and grits. “Something must be wrong.” Just please don’t let it be something I did. His silent prayer drifted through the smoky haze of the diner, and he held his breath. He purposefully hadn’t pushed the issue of Allie’s absence yesterday at the cookie contest, choosing to hope that she’d trust him and share her feelings first.
Allie set down the fork she’d been twirling between her fingers. “It’s hard to eat on a full stomach.”
Jordan frowned. “You ate before coming to a breakfast meeting?” He’d asked Allie to meet him early for work, before the next festival event began later in the afternoon. He wanted to go over some figures and finish planning the big Christmas Eve extravaganza before they got swamped the rest of the day. Hopefully he’d have time to sneak in some shopping, too. He still hadn’t decided what to get Allie for her Christmas gift, and time was ticking away faster than he wanted to admit.
“Not physically full. Emotionally. I had an argument with my mom last night.” She picked her fork back up and poked at her grits, now congealing on her plate. “I feel like there’s a giant rock in my stomach.”
“What happened?” Jordan pushed aside his computer to give Allie his full attention. Hope burst inside him that she might actually confide in him and take their working relationship to a higher level—one approaching renewed friendship.
And, if the tremor in his stomach every time he peered into her big blue eyes was any indication, maybe eventually something more.
“It’s nothing. Forget it.” But the sadness on her face stated otherwise.
“Allie, talk to me. You obviously need to vent.”
She hesitated.
“You used to tell me everything.” Regret sprawled across the table between them, and a distinct heaviness settled in Jordan’s heart. “We used to talk for hours on the phone.”
Sadness came into Allie’s eyes, and she straightened. She shoved her plate away. “We’d better get busy. Where’s that spreadsheet of figures?”
Jordan slowly opened his laptop, wondering how on earth his size-eleven loafer managed to fit inside his mouth.
Allie had two hours, a checkbook with a little bit of money actually inside and an entire store teeming with decorations, holiday music and people—yet she’d never felt less like Christmas shopping in all her life.
She bobbed her head in time to the familiar carol ringing through the gift shop but to no avail. Greta’s Gifts had always been one of her favorite places to shop, but Allie was sorely lacking in Christmas spirit.
“Need some help, honey?”
Allie looked up as Greta smiled at her from across the counter. The older woman rang up a customer’s purchase and slipped it inside a plastic bag. “You’ve been staring at that piggy bank for five solid minutes.”
Allie sheepishly put the polka-dotted pig back on the shelf. “Sorry, Greta. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Holiday secrets?” Greta handed the customer his change and wished him a Merry Christmas before turning back to Allie. “I love shopping. Good thing I get a discount here.” She tilted her gray head back and let out a generous laugh. “What do you think of my window display?”
Allie made her way to the front of the store to join Greta by the window. “It’s beautiful.” She studied the pink-and-green gift boxes, all tied with yellow bows. Sparkly fuchsia trees stood on each side of a stuffed polar bear, who sat proudly in a pile of glittery cotton snow. A large, carved wooden sign had Merry Christmas in yellow block letters above an arrangement of pink stockings.
“I wanted to branch out from the traditional red and green this year.” Greta placed her hands on her slim hips. “I think there is something just so cheerful about pink and yellow.”
“I agree.” Allie couldn’t help but smile at the excited store owner. “Well, I’m not a judge for the store-window contest, but if I were, you’d have my vote. It’s very creative.” In fact, Molly might like that porcelain figurine of pastries under a glass serving dish. It’d be a cute tribute to her new catering business—and a goodwill gesture toward their developing friendship.
“You’re a doll.” Greta took Allie’s arm and tugged her over to the cash register. “And for that sincere litt
le compliment, I have a gift for you.”
Allie flushed. “Greta, that’s not necessary.”
“Nonsense. I see how hard you and Mr. Walker have been working on this festival for our town. Everyone deserves a treat now and then.” She handed Allie a paper bag filled with a variety of candies from her display case. “You share them with that sweet Mr. Walker, now, you hear?” She winked.
Allie took the bag and thanked her. But she’d rather have handed the candy back than sit in front of Jordan again today and pretend that nothing was wrong. How dare he bring up their past at the diner like it was no big deal, like they’d amicably parted ways ten years ago?
Like her heart didn’t still sting with the memory of losing her first love?
Allie made small talk with Greta as the older lady rang up the pastry figurine for Molly, promising the shop owner yet again that she’d share her chocolate with “that sweet Mr. Walker.”
Wishing Greta good luck with the contest, Allie wrapped her scarf around her neck and headed outside. She didn’t know what was more exhausting—trying to keep her heart out of Jordan’s reach or trying to convince herself he didn’t already have it.
She’d see him at the window contest tonight and then tomorrow at the big Christmas Eve finale. After that, who knew? Her job was only guaranteed through Christmas. At this point, it was safe to assume she hadn’t acquired the loan she requested in Kansas City. It was time to move on with Plan B, which meant staying in Ginger Falls and finding work elsewhere. It’d be hard enough to handle living in the same town and bumping into Jordan periodically but impossible to work with him long term. Not with her traitorous heart whispering memories she tried to forget. Memories of warm hugs and late nights on the porch swing, laughing until they cried.
