“Lose your truck?” she asked, not to let her tender heart get the best of her now.
Brady ignored that. “You sold those two big white pines?” He tilted his head. “And, if I remember right, there was a Fraser fir right over there.”
“I had a good day yesterday.” And she’d already thanked him.
As far as Cara was concerned, that finished the conversation.
But Brady was looking past her. Nearby, Tommy was trying to wrestle a tree from one spot to another. And Cara winced. He was tall and dark-haired but so thin and gangly at his age, she worried that he’d hurt himself.
Brady marched over to him. “Don’t,” he said. “The tree belongs where it was. I put it there. And that’s where it stays.”
Tommy scowled. “Does it matter, dude?”
“The name’s Brady.”
He muscled the tree to its rightful place with the others of its kind then rejoined Cara.
She looked toward the trailer.
“I need to open up.” The words made Brady smile and she flushed. She’d been accused more than once of being too tightly wound. “I meant open the lot. Don’t you have Christmas shopping or something to do?”
“Yeah,” he said, “after I school Tommy about your stock. And I need to straighten out something else.” He followed her into the trailer. All at once the little space felt half its size. Brady’s broad shoulders seemed to fill it, and he took up all her air.
“Brady,” she began.
“Here’s my best shot. You didn’t stick around last night and you may not buy this now, but I liked your sister. She was a good person and a great teacher. She got me interested in American literature when grades—and learning—weren’t my thing that year. I had a really bad case of senioritis.” He cleared his throat. “But she shouldn’t have been caught up in what happened.”
“And what did happen, Brady?” As if they both didn’t know.
His pose struck her as way too casual. “You may not believe this either—considering all the press then and the gossip around town—but I wasn’t a cheat or that much of a jerk,” he said. “Kind of like Mark Twain’s comment that the reports of his death were greatly exaggerated.”
She wanted to believe. Otherwise, it didn’t say much for her that she’d carried a crush on Brady when he was guilty of cheating but—“I’m impressed that you actually learned something in Beth’s English class.”
“We read Letters from the Earth that semester. Pretty depressing stuff but interesting,” he said.
“Then you had finals. And my sister got fired. She never taught again.” Cara stared at him. “You were to blame, Brady. And I said all I have to say last night—”
“I’m never going to live that down with you, am I? You remind me of my own sister. Hope had her say half an hour ago.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I came here after that.” He paused. “No, I do.” He pulled money from his jeans pocket. “This is yours. I invited you to the inn so I pay.”
“I appreciate the nice manners, but no. You don’t.”
With a determined look in his eyes, Brady took a step. Before Cara could back away, he’d pushed the bills into her pocket. And patted it.
“Done,” he said. “Don’t argue.”
Through her puffy down parka and two other layers of clothing, she felt as if her skin were burning. Cara glanced out the front window. A car had just pulled up out front. Maybe if she ignored Brady, he’d go away. And her pulse would stop hammering.
“I don’t have time to argue. I have a Christmas tree lot to run.”
“Yeah, and a good, well-trained staff is important,” he pointed out. “Once I show him the ropes, Tommy could really sell for you. Why don’t I stick around?”
Cara tensed. That would mean running into Brady every five minutes, watching his easy strength again all day in handling the trees. If he caught her looking, he’d know about her stubborn crush. The one that made her remember Beth just in time.
“Why don’t you make up with Hope instead?”
“Huh.”
Immediately, she felt guilty. It seemed Brady was the only person she knew who could turn Cara into a rude imitation of herself. In self-defense.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
He shrugged. “Catch you later, then. I’ll talk to Tommy. Then I’m off to do that Christmas shopping.” He turned back to hand her a business card. “Here’s my cell number. If you need help, want to talk over dinner instead of hot cocoa…”
As the words hung in the air, the door opened. And Jill stepped in, her cheeks bright pink from the cold. It seemed clear she’d heard what he said.
She lifted her gaze to Brady. “Well, well, who do we have here?”
~*~
Brady’s resolve to stay away from Cara hadn’t lasted long.
And she’d been right about one thing. Brady needed to buy some gifts. His mother and sisters were done, but in Dockery’s toy department, he wondered what to buy for little Joel. His mind wasn’t on the task. First, he’d tangled with Hope, then Cara again. Her friend Jill had seemed less interested in condemning him, but he had yet to encounter anyone who seemed to think his coming back to Christmas Town this year was a good idea.
His tutoring session with Tommy hadn’t gone that well either. The kid had a real chip on his shoulder.
Brady decided against a chemistry set for Joel—he was too young—then some simple puzzles—they were for an even younger kid—and bypassed a rack of superhero costumes. He didn’t know his nephew’s size. Or were the costumes one size fits all? He was examining a small action figure instead when he glanced up and spied Christopher Hayes at the next table.
Chris wore his sheriff’s uniform, which was no surprise, and as Hope had pointed out, Brady’s friendship with Chris had suffered once the scandal broke. But more recently they’d worked together to put out the fire at the wedding chapel, then decorated his family’s Christmas tree and made reindeer food. Now he realized why Chris must be in the toy department, looking confused.
“Hey there, Daddy.”
Chris set down a red fire truck. And a grin lit his green eyes.
“You think Joel would like that one?”
“Last I heard he was crazy about fire trucks.”
Chris ran a hand over his chestnut hair. “But I’m new at this daddy thing and Christmas has me stumped. This is the first time I’ll be part of his morning rush to all the presents under the tree from Santa. At the crack of dawn, Hope tells me.” He paused. “But I don’t really know what to get for Joel.”
Brady took a closer look at Chris. He too had that gleam Brady had seen in Hope. “I’m happy she told you.” His mouth tightened. “She should have long ago.”
“I’ve missed a lot,” Chris agreed, “but I’m making up for that now.” He gestured at the action guy in Brady’s hand. “Maybe I’ll buy out this whole department.”
“You can’t go wrong there.” Brady hesitated. He hadn’t gotten the chance before to explore the topic with Chris. “But about Hope—”
“She did what she thought she had to do then, Brady.”
“I never guessed you were Joel’s dad,” he said, remembering when he’d seen the truth for himself soon before Brady had moved to the inn. This morning he’d only made things worse with Hope.
“And I know you’ve given her a rough time but Hope and I are fine now.” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Do we have your blessing?”
For some reason the question made Brady’s spirits sag. Like him, Hope was home again. She was in love and Chris was a good guy. He liked all that. So what was Brady’s problem?
“Sure,” he said and clapped Chris on the back.
For another half hour they explored the toy department. Chris piled a cart high with the fire truck, books and games, and a set of kid-sized drums that would probably drive Hope crazy. Brady added a full set of the action figures then a pirate ship with all kinds of trap doors and little knights and cannons. “There
won’t be enough room under that tree,” he said.
They checked out then pushed the cart toward the wrapping department.
Chris said, “By the way, I really appreciated your help with your parents’ tree—and with the wedding chapel fire.”
He’d actually pleased someone? “In my job, I’ve worked quite a few forest fires so it was like rolling off a log—so to speak. It’s great how people are pitching in to help rebuild the chapel.” Christmas Town was a close-knit community. People rallied around in celebration or crisis and he’d missed that, as long as the crisis wasn’t about him.
Chris smiled. “I ran into your dad not long ago at the Christmas Town Workshop. He was in a heated conversation with Gus, Barty, and Marv about this year’s Pageant.”
Would his parents be there, though?
“Dad shouldn’t get upset. He’s not that well—though I haven’t seen him.”
“Brady, I know you’re still peeved at Hope, and I don’t know what else is going on with your family but—”
His stomach bottomed out. Chris must know he wasn’t staying at the house now.
“Long story,” Brady said, “and getting longer.”
Chris raised one eyebrow. “When you and I played football together, I thought I knew you pretty well. You weren’t the kind of guy to get caught up in something like that cheating mess. I’ve always wondered what actually happened there.”
Score another one for me, Brady thought but stayed silent.
“Don’t want to talk about it?” Chris asked.
“Not right now,” he said. They dumped their packages on the giftwrap counter. The scent of pine wafted through the air. So did music. Christmas carols played in every department. “But Chris, I do want to tell you this…my sister and I don’t always agree but Hope’s a great person.”
“She is. I’m a lucky man.” Chris hesitated again. “So. What about you?”
He forced a smile. “I’m a lucky guy too.”
“You’re with someone now?”
“Nah. I’m still playing the field.” He hadn’t had a date since he’d left Glacier to take his new post at Acadia.
Chris gave him a look that had to be sympathy.
“We’re both thirty, Sullivan. You might think about settling down, coming back to Christmas Town for good. Then your family would be together again,” Chris said. “Faith’s away with Drew, as I’m sure you know, but I bet they’ll be here for Christmas.”
Chris seemed to know more about his family than he did. For a long moment he studied Brady until he wanted to squirm.
“Tell you what,” Chris said at last. “Some night before New Year’s, why don’t we get together? Me, Hope, you…and what about Cara Crawford?”
As if he knew Brady found her more than attractive.
“She’s single too,” Chris added.
Did he not remember her sister? He’d just referred to the scandal.
“I don’t think that would work out, Chris.” Not yet anyway.
After they left their gifts to be wrapped then picked up later, and Chris had left the store, Brady realized he still had his father to buy for.
He wandered through every other department in Dockery’s without buying a thing.
It seemed everybody had a glow except him.
And Cara.
Chapter 4
Cara didn’t have to think about Christmas shopping. There wasn’t any extended family left to buy for, and this year, sadly, Beth was gone too. But the friends she wanted to remember this holiday season were easy. For each of them Cara had written a short story. She still had Jill’s to finish but Jill was right here in the living room of the house Cara had inherited.
After she’d closed the tree lot for the night, she and Jill had met to pop corn and make root beer floats while Jill addressed a few last Christmas cards. Cara had stamped a few of her own at Jill’s insistence that Cara couldn’t ignore Christmas completely—and hurt other people’s feelings. Then their talk had turned to Brady. Even the thought of him made Cara feel warmer.
“I don’t know what to think,” she said. “He claims he wasn’t a cheat and part of me wants to believe him, but the rest keeps remembering Beth. She was a different person after she got fired.”
“She should have moved away then. Taken you with her. Made a fresh start.”
Cara had been thinking of that for herself soon but shook her head. “Despite everything, Beth loved this town. That was part of why she felt so terrible. She loved this house too. All our memories of our parents are here. Now,” she said, “they’re just mine.”
“We can’t live on memories,” Jill murmured, “even the good ones. Beth wasn’t fair to you, Cara.”
That didn’t sit well. Cara had always been fiercely protective of her older sister, but Jill spoke from experience. “And you think I’m being unfair to Brady now?”
“It’s a possibility. Whether his explanation then was the whole truth or there’s something he hasn’t said—”
“The cheating happened. That wasn’t Beth’s fault but he pulled her down with him.”
“And you’re still stuck there too. Cara, I know it’s safer to sit here reading books, even to write them—which, seriously, you really should do—” She broke off. “No, I won’t lecture about that tonight. But after I lost Adam, I didn’t want to see anyone. If it hadn’t been for my teaching job, because I had to go out every day, I’d probably have done the same as you.” She hesitated. “Maybe Brady coming back to town is a good thing. At the very least he might set the record straight. Then you can get him out of your system.”
Cara wasn’t sure she would ever get Brady out of her mind. Or stop seeing him as a more than desirable man. But it wasn’t only his looks. At the same time he made her furious because of Beth, he could also make her laugh. And yearn for something that had always seemed just out of reach for Cara.
What if he wasn’t guilty? What if there was some other explanation?
“In any case,” she said, “by New Year’s he’ll be back at Acadia skiing down mountains, watching deer or moose…and I’ll still be here.” Unless she finally made a decision to sell the house and move away from all the memories. Which had the benefit of taking her far from Brady as well.
Jill said, “Beth wouldn’t want you to set your life aside because of her.”
Cara stacked her few Christmas cards then set them in the dining room to mail. She couldn’t count on Brady, charming as he was, and despite that earnest look in his eyes earlier, the regret she’d glimpsed before, to turn her around.
That was up to Cara.
After Jill went home, she decided to work on that last story, but her new doubts about Brady kept getting in the way and, finally, Cara gave up. She’d left a printout of her draft at the tree lot anyway, thinking she’d work on it that afternoon between customers. But then, Tommy had left early with some lame excuse Cara didn’t quite believe either and—thanks to Brady’s new tree arrangement?—she’d been too busy to write.
She might as well drive over to get her story draft. And hope for inspiration.
Minutes later, she signaled to turn into the parking area then noticed the trailer wasn’t quite dark. The outside lights around the perimeter stayed on all night for security, but had she left a light on inside? Surely she’d double-checked before leaving.
The light flickered then bounced off the walls. Quickly, it dropped lower—behind the counter?—and Cara’s pulse began to thump. Somebody was in the trailer!
For an instant she thought of barging in, surprising whoever might be there, but that didn’t seem smart. She wasn’t a very big woman and someone brazen enough to break into the place might easily overpower her.
Cara glanced across the street. She should call 911—now—but by the time Chris Hayes got here, the intruder would be gone. At the Pine Tree Inn, however, Brady might be in his room. He was big and solid and athletic. She might not believe him, but she knew he would help her.
Ca
ra parked in the inn’s lot then ran inside. She got his room number from the clerk she knew at the front desk then raced up the stairs and pounded on his door.
Blinking, Brady answered. “Cara. What’s—”
“Someone’s in my trailer,” she said, gasping for breath.
He didn’t hesitate. He reached for his parka in the closet.
“You stay here,” he said.
“No. I’m going with you.” He gave her a look that should have stopped her in her tracks, but Cara turned to clatter back down the stairs. Behind her all the way, Brady scolded her. She should have called the cops. She should have stayed at the inn. What did she think she could do against a burglar? Was she trying to get hurt?
Cara ignored him. At the trailer, though, she hung back. The light still danced inside and she wasn’t that foolish. “I’ll call Chris.”
“Tell him to hurry.” Then Brady was running low across the dark yard.
Cara’s hands trembled so hard she had trouble punching in the three numbers that would summon the sheriff.
For once she was more than glad Brady was here.
~*~
Brady rammed the trailer door, breaking the flimsy lock with one shove. The flashlight that had been playing behind the counter suddenly went out but in the second it took for his eyes to adjust, Brady recognized the intruder.
The skinny dark figure had his hand in the open till, a bunch of bills overflowing from his jacket pocket. His eyes, just as shocked, met Brady’s.
“Tommy.” The kid tried to run, but Brady blocked the main door. “What did you think you were doing?”
Tommy’s gaze fell. He put his hands in his pockets, as if trying to hide the cash.
“Breaking and entering, I guess,” he muttered. “I needed money.”
As an excuse Brady supposed it wasn’t any worse than the kid’s usual reasons for not working. Cara had told him Tommy wasn’t that reliable and he’d learned for himself that Tommy didn’t have the best work ethic. Tonight he’d broken a rear window to get in and Cara didn’t have a security alarm.
A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances Page 57
