He hit the turn signal, turned on his hazard lights and pulled the truck over to the side of the highway. Before she could sit up straight, he was out of the truck and opening her door. “Belt off.”
“What are you—Sam!” Marnie let out a sound that combined confusion and laughter, batting his hands away as he reached across her lap and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Sam!” He caught her arms and hauled her out, taking a good five steps to the right before spinning her around and with one gentle shove, sent her falling into the waist deep snow pile.
Icy flakes crunched under her as she floundered, tried to get her feet stable, but only managed to sink deeper, the damp sinking into her jacket and jeans. “This is not funny!” Arms flailing, she slipped and slid her way down to his feet.
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because.” She reached up and grabbed his hand, gave one almighty tug and slammed him face first into the bank beside her. “You didn’t think I’d do that.”
Sam came up sputtering, spitting snow out of his mouth as he swiped a hand down his frozen, wet face. “You do know this means war.” He balled up his hand in the snow, a grin spreading from ear to ear as she squealed and scrambled off. She stopped long enough to capture her own double-handful and threw it at him as she dashed over the edge. His quick throw managed to hit her smack in the center of her retreating back. He followed, racing after her, but he ended up with another face full when he crested the bank.
The war raged, but neither of them was a teenager any more. Within minutes his arms ached, his hands had gone numb, and his lungs and ribs burned from laughing. Mission accomplished, however. Marnie’s melancholy or whatever had descended around her during their drive back to town abated. He sagged back in the snow, letting his limbs go lax as he caught his breath.
God, he’d miss this. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to dwell on what would happen if his plan failed. If he had to spend six months, six weeks, six days without seeing her.
“Okay, you win.” He held up his hands when she stood over him with another armful of weaponry. “Seriously, Marnie, don’t even—”
She dropped the snow on his head.
If his heart hadn’t been done in before, she managed it in that moment. He heard her plop down beside him before he uncovered his face. His hair was dripping wet, his cheeks tight with cold. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more alive in his life.
Marnie heaved a heavy sigh and looked at him. “You understand why I have to do this, don’t you, Sam? Why I have to get this degree?”
Just like that, his world collapsed. “Yeah,” he said, pushing up. “I just wish you didn’t think you have to leave Christmas Town to feel as if you’ve done something important with your life.”
“It’s not that simple.” But she bit her lip, her brow furrowing as if she realized that maybe it was. She ducked her chin, stared at her over-pink hands clasped in her lap. “I don’t think I can see this whole thing through if you don’t believe me. Or believe in me.”
“I’ve always believed in you,” he said. “Why else would I be helping you redo the chapel?”
“Because you’re a nice guy. And you always put everyone else before yourself. Even when they don’t deserve it.”
“Marnie—”
“What was that kiss for?”
“What kiss?” Who was he kidding? The kiss he’d been dreaming about planting on her full lips since he learned what kissing was about. The kiss he’d finally given in to because he couldn’t go another day without knowing what it was like to hold Marnie—however briefly—in his arms and give in to a desire that for years he feared would be their friendship’s undoing.
“In the kitchen the other day.” The blush on her cheeks told him she’d been afraid to talk to him about this. “I just need to know…why then? Why now?”
There it was. All he had to do was say the words he’d been holding inside for almost longer than he’d been alive. His chance to break completely free and step into a life he wanted more than anything—but was afraid of being denied. Of losing what they had. All it would take was one sentence…
But when he looked at her, all that came out was, “I got caught up in the nostalgia of the moment.” He could already count the ways he’d be kicking himself later. “You were about to cry when you saw those binders. How else was I supposed to stop it?” There was no way he could laugh and try to make light of his lie, not when he could see the relief on her face. “I’ve always hated seeing you cry.”
“So that’s all it was? A distraction? Honestly? There’s nothing…more?”
The lie came with practiced, painful ease as he slipped back down the mountain he’d been scaling the last few days. “Marnie, you’re my best friend. There’s no one on this earth I care about more than I do you, but more?” Tell her yes, tell her not to go. Tell her to stay! He couldn’t risk it. Not when things were going so well. Admitting his feelings now would only lob a grenade into a potentially explosive situation. “I think you and I both know that isn’t in the cards for us. Especially now you’re leaving.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The expression in her eyes shifted, but for once, he couldn’t quite read what she was thinking. He knew what he wanted her to be thinking: that maybe she didn’t want to leave Christmas Town—leave him—after all.
“I just wanted to get that out in the open,” she said. “Not make more of it than it was. I don’t want anything to ever come between us, Sam. I couldn’t stand it if we weren’t friends any more.”
“And all it took to clear the air was a few hundred snowballs of mass destruction.” He shoved himself up and held out his hand. “Let’s get you back in the truck and warmed up. We need to check in at the chapel and see what progress my workforce has made.”
He could barely feel her hand in his as she gripped hold and he pulled her to her feet. “Thanks, Sam. For always being there for me.”
He shouldn’t confuse her any more by kissing her again, no matter how much he wanted to. She had so much to deal with already. Then again…
He bent down and brushed his lips over hers, her gasp of surprise warm like a striking match lighting a dormant fire. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Come on. And let’s make a quick coffee stop. I need thawing out before we see what the construction crew has been up to.”
Chapter 5
If Marnie had hoped to ease her mind by asking Sam about that kiss, it didn’t work. If anything, that second kiss only managed to confuse her even more and pushed her to the edge of constant distraction.
That distraction finally took a back seat to progress when they returned to the chapel later that afternoon and found the dividing walls gone, along with the benches, and, aside from the gaping hole in what had been the office, most of the floor repaired.
“You guys, it looks great!” Marnie practically danced inside, clasping her hands against her chest as she strode across the expanse of the huge interior. “We could have a full-fledged ball if we wanted to.”
The group of teens, most of whom she’d watched grow up, stood around in varying degrees of grunge and grime. Six, no seven of Sam’s students, four boys and three girls milled around the coffee table she’d set up earlier in the day.
“We just finished taking the last load of trash out to the bin out back,” Dani, a curly-headed blonde said with more enthusiasm than a factory full of Energizer bunnies. “We wanted to surprise you and have it done by the time you got back.”
“Better than I imagined,” Sam said with a slow nod. “Great job. Not too much damage to the floor and the boys and I can finish replacing that section over there. After you help me get the new windows out of the truck.”
“I’ve got paint samples.”
“Thank goodness,” Lara grumbled. “Sorry,” she added when Marnie frowned. “I guess it’s just…I’d heard my mom talk about this place for so long, I didn’t expect it to look so—”
“Drab,” Dani added. “But that’
s why we’re here, right?”
“One of the reasons,” Jessa Clark, all dark hair and dark eyes, short enough to pass for one of Santa’s helpers, piped up.
Marnie dug into her coat pocket and headed to the makeshift desk they’d put up on the dais out of an old door and worn sawhorses from the storeroom.
She set the sample packets of paint out and tried not to take offense. She’d chosen these colors a couple of years ago, thinking they would be in line with what her parents’ had always done. Lara’s comment gave her ego a firm kick, but, looking around Marnie couldn’t blame her. Apparently there were some chances that hadn’t been worth taking. She glanced at Sam. Hopefully she’d learned something since then. “All the more reason to get your feedback.”
“This is where we part ways,” Sam said and headed back out to the truck.
Marnie looked over her shoulder as he closed the door. Snow ball war games aside, their conversation hadn’t done anything to ease the antsy feeling that had perked to life the other day in her kitchen.
“I like this one,” Dani said, setting the silver-toned gray to the side. “But an eggshell would work, too.”
“Too similar to what’s on the outside of the building,” Jessa said. “Are you keeping the interior bead board or are we plastering over it?”
“I hadn’t decided,” Marnie admitted. “How did you get interested in all this anyway?”
“My dad’s in construction,” Dani said with a shrug. “I always liked hanging out in his workshop behind the house. My brothers never had any interest. They’re sports nuts.”
Jessa nodded in agreement. “Mine, too. But my grandma’s the one who got me involved. She wanted to change the wallpaper in her kitchen, but didn’t have the money. I went online and learned how to do it. I really liked the work so I joined shop class last semester.”
“I joined to meet boys,” Lara, the blunt one Marnie had tagged as the glamour girl rocked back on her heels, her long, dark hair fighting to escape the confines of a paint spattered bandana. “It’s actually kind of fun. But if you’re asking how we came on board for this project?”
Marnie indicated so.
“Our parents got married here.”
“Our?” Marnie glanced at each of the girls. “All your parents?”
“Yep. Twenty-three years ago for mine,” Dani said. “I’ve looked at the pictures hundreds of times.”
“It would have been twenty for mine,” Jessa said with the same regretful flinch Marnie could relate to. “My dad died a few years ago. He always said his wedding here was the most perfect day of his life. Aside from when his kids were born.”
“Lara? What about you?”
“My dad and step-mom got married here two years ago. Valentine’s Day weekend.”
“Diana and Kevin Prince.” Marnie nodded. “I remember that wedding. It turned out really nice.”
“Mom raved about how you made everything so easy. And believe me, she was one stressed out bride.”
Marnie remembered that, too, but looking around the chapel, she began to understand why. She hated the thought that Bells are Ringing, or the lack of attention to detail or decor, had disappointed anyone let alone a bride on her wedding day. Doubt crept in, silent, deadly, and settled in her belly. What if her vision for the chapel was…bad?
“We just wanted to have a part in this place, like they did. Family traditions being what they are in Christmas Town,” Dani said. “I know it might not seem like it, but Bells are Ringing means a lot to everyone. We want it to be the best it can be. So that one day we can get married here.”
Marnie felt a new warmth flooding through her body. That girls this young would want to get married in her family’s chapel…tears burned the back of her throat. Her mother would have loved that idea.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Marnie said finally. Today those long-ago dreams of hers didn’t seem so far away. Today, she felt more than a kick-start of desire to make Bells are Ringing something to call her own. Until it wasn’t her own. She plucked at the edge of the paint packet.
“Sam said you’re thinking about leaving Christmas Town,” Jessa said, then glared at Dani when the other girl elbowed her in the ribs. “Ow! What?!”
“That’s none of our business,” Dani whispered and jerked her head in Marnie’s direction with a warning glare.
“I’ve got a shot at design school,” Marnie explained. “So yeah, I am thinking about it.” She was just about beyond thinking about it, but that didn’t stop the doubt from nibbling along the edges of her resolve. Intentional or not, she’d just come face to face with the product of her parents’ love and life. Stable homes, loving families, united under the same roof over the years, and kids the product of what the Wright family giving these marriages a great start. “But I can’t make any final decision unless we finish, so let’s put our heads together and come up with some great design ideas, okay?”
“I like the silver,” Lara said as the others nodded.
“Or.” Marnie took off her jacket and grabbed all three packet samples of paint. “If we keep the boards, what if we did stripes of alternating colors? I chose paint that has refracting crystals, so whatever lights we end up with will make the walls sparkle.”
From there, her doubts and muddled thoughts about Sam Collins faded as she focused on the future…and tried not to think about what—and who—she’d be leaving behind.
~*~
“So chairs are being delivered on the 19th.” Marnie put a check mark next to that item on her list as she and Sam walked the two miles into town. “Noelle came through big time and even got a hold of some banquet tables we can refinish. I’m thinking we can store those in the back room when we aren’t using them. If we can get those pipes fixed and the new dry wall in place...” she trailed off.
“Marnie,” Sam said as his patience slipped its tether. He was well aware of the problems they’d run in to, but he had a plan. A plan he could implement in the morning. When he’d gotten some sleep. He scrubbed a hand against his neck and barely registered the feel of his scar beneath tired fingers.
“We’re picking up the paint at Christmas Town Workshop tomorrow,” she continued. “I called and talked to Gus. But before we can start that, we need to make sure the wiring works with whatever lights we choose. The lights.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I wish I could make up my mind on those.”
“Mar-nie.”
“I’ve narrowed down the lighting choices. I know we talked about using actual lampposts and painting them white, but what do you think about lanterns…”
“Marnie.” Sam stopped walking and grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her to a stop. “Enough. Turn it off for a few hours. We’re ahead of schedule and there’s nothing more you can do today except think yourself to death.” She’d been doing this for the past few days, running on fast-forward as if she were afraid to stop moving.
“We’re running out of time. There’s only five days left—”
He didn’t need her to tell him time was running out. “Listen to me. Again.” He pushed her hands down to her sides, heard the crunch of her notepad against her jacket and shook his head. “We are ahead of schedule. I’ll work on the electrical tomorrow morning and Nick is stopping by tomorrow afternoon to help me finish putting up the drywall and check on that boiler. We can start painting the day after that. It’s too cold right now anyway, and I’d rather not have to set up heaters inside if we can avoid it. Now put your list away and enjoy the fresh air.”
“But—”
“Do I need to find a snow bank?” Or maybe he needed to kiss her again. That tended to shut her up. He leaned in.
She scrunched up her face as if preparing to stick her tongue out at him. Instead, she shoved the mini-notepad into her pocket and huffily resumed their path. “It’s your fault I’m consumed by this, you know.”
“I am well aware.” Disappointed, Sam pushed his hands in his pockets and stayed by her side. While the remodel h
ad been time consuming, exhausting and leaning toward overwhelming, he couldn’t remember feeling more productive. Or inspired. He’d watched the excitement and light return to her eyes, as if she’d been reminded about what made Christmas Town and Bells are Ringing so special. She wouldn’t find any of this comfort in New York. And this walk into town was yet another chance to remind her of what she couldn’t take with her. “This is your favorite time of year. Take some time to remember why that is. There now, see?” He pointed down the road to where the barest hint of Christmas Town charm could be seen. “In a few hours all those millions of lights—”
“Millions?” Marnie arched a brow at him.
“Trust me. I’ve strung most of them over the years,” Sam chuckled. “They’ll all come on and brighten up those smoke puffing chimneys all around town. The snow will shine as the sun begins to set—”
“You always did get poetic at the holidays.”
“The holidays call for it. Now. Without looking at your list, tell me what other things you want to incorporate into the chapel.” He was looking forward to returning to their familiar morning conversations that didn’t involve paint, varnish, or electricity.
“You mean besides the walls and furniture?”
“And the lighting. Don’t forget the lighting.” He grinned.
She chuckled. “I’ve been scouring the Internet for decorating ideas. I see lots of glass, all kinds of bottles and vases, clear, not cut, filled with glitter and votives. I saw this one table, covered in a thin white fabric and they strung lights under it so it glowed. That would make a beautiful cake display. Oh, and wreaths on the door, maybe with the bride’s and groom’s initials on them? For that extra special touch?”
“Sounds great. Tell me something. If you were staying. If,” he emphasized when she frowned. “Humor me. If you stayed, what else would you do with the chapel?”
“You’re reading my mind again, aren’t you?”
One could only hope. “Or I saw the new sketch pad you were scribbling in yesterday. A separate building for receptions?”
A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances Page 12
