A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances

by Melinda Curtis

  “Barely,” she said. A blue pickup had drawn up at the curb and a man with three little boys climbed out, the kids practically running over each other in their eagerness to choose the right tree. They plunged into her forest and Cara said to Doug, “Come inside.” She’d see to that family in a few minutes. Or Tommy could. He looked almost ready for the next customer. He’d been so busy he hadn’t noticed his uncle.

  In the trailer, she held her hands to the warmth coming from the space heater.

  Doug roamed the small area, glancing now and then out the window. From here, Cara could see his wife inspecting a small Norway spruce.

  At last Doug turned to face her. “Brady was my savior during our senior year. Nobody messed with him, as I’m sure you know, but he was also a square shooter.”

  Cara saw the three boys running again, each dragging a small tree. Ordinarily, she would have smiled. There was apparently more than one way to come to an agreement about Christmas.

  “The other night at the inn—when you walked in—what you heard was my doing what I’ve done all these years. Brady’s right. I did betray our friendship. And after you both helped Tommy, I knew I’d kept quiet long enough. Brady didn’t deserve to take the blame for me.” He paused. “Whatever he’s told you, it’s the truth.”

  “He hasn’t told me much.” Because of Beth, she hadn’t believed what he did say. Brady had believed in her, though. He’d seen Cara’s joy in her writing, kissed her the other night until she believed in Christmas again. In happy endings. But then…

  How had she repaid him?

  At the inn, with Doug’s words she’d judged him guilty, as everyone had thought. Then she’d left again without waiting to hear Brady’s explanation.

  Doug sighed. “Looks like my wife’s ready to buy a tree,” he said. “For what it’s worth now, I’m sorry about your sister. She was no guiltier then than Brady was. He needs to tell you why.” He laid a large bill on the counter. “I think this will cover it.”

  Cara pushed the money back at him. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say Merry Christmas before Doug ducked out of the trailer. He’d paid a price of his own for lying, letting Brady take the blame. He was the one who had to live with that.

  Certainly he’d lost a good, and loyal, friend.

  But had she too?

  From the window she watched Doug Merrick speak to his wife then to his nephew. A minute later Tommy poked his head in to ask if it would be all right for him to go with them, and before they left Cara gave him the small bonus she’d set aside.

  “Buy your mother something for Christmas, Tommy.”

  Alone then, thinking of Brady all the while, Cara kept more than busy.

  How could she make it up to him? Show him she trusted him before he told her the rest?

  Standing at her counter by the cash register, she noticed a pen beside a fresh stack of paper. And made her decision.

  She had another task to do.

  A most important one.

  Before tomorrow.

  Christmas.

  Chapter 7

  In the outlet store at the knitting mill near Christmas Town, Brady settled on a soft blue cashmere cardigan for his father to wear while he watched TV. His dad probably wasn’t as active as he used to be. And like Cara, he was always cold. Brady had already picked up his wrapped presents at Dockery’s for his mom, Faith and Hope, Drew and Chris and little Joel.

  On his way back to town he stopped at his parents’ house. He’d gone by several times, but still nobody seemed to be home. In his car again he sat and let the nostalgia he’d been feeling ever since he left Acadia wash over him. The house where he’d grown up, fought with his sisters, enjoyed Christmas years ago had a lonely, abandoned look. Hope would be at the store today tending to frantic late shoppers. Joel was probably with her. But where were Brady’s parents?

  He couldn’t force his family to believe him. He thought about dropping the presents in his trunk on the front porch then setting off for Acadia. His apartment there didn’t need a tree or anything else. Like Cara, he’d try to ignore Christmas this year. Why celebrate when he’d lost any chance with her too the other night at the inn?

  On Christmas day maybe he’d go snowshoeing, fill his lungs with clean, crisp air. Let Cara too think what she always had. He’d forget the kisses they’d shared, his foolish notion they could have a real relationship. Love, he thought. Like Faith and Drew. Like Hope and Chris.

  Brady stopped. Who was he kidding? Yes, Doug had wronged him years ago, and Beth. But after seeing Doug again, he realized he’d allowed himself to be wronged then. Just as Doug had feared his powerful father. It was high school.

  And like Tommy, years ago Brady had chosen a wayward path for a time. But that was then.

  He wasn’t quite ready to give up on Cara, on them, after all.

  He had another idea. He was going back to the mall.

  ~*~

  Cara spent that afternoon, between the rush of last-minute customers, in the trailer. At the counter she wrote furiously. Satisfied at last with what she’d written, she looked up to see that night had fallen. Tomorrow she’d try to find Brady but tonight...

  Soon she would close the lot—permanently this time?—with a sadness she hadn’t expected to feel. Reluctant to go, before shutting down, Cara wandered among her remaining trees to the exact spot in the middle where Brady had kissed her. Did she really want to sell the lot? Leave Christmas Town?

  From farther down the street and the square, she heard the laughter of children and adults. Music. And was that Santa’s booming voice calling to the crowd, as he did every year? The annual pageant must be underway.

  As a child she’d gone with her parents and Beth. But Cara hadn’t been there last year when Beth was sick or for long before that. “I’d rather read a book,” Cara had always assured her sister so she wouldn’t feel bad.

  Should she go home now to sit in her living room, alone, watching the lights wink on and off on the tree Brady had brought her, or—?

  With a fresh sense of purpose Cara made a few telephone calls then shut off the lights in the trailer and the ones strung along the street outside. She grabbed her parka, wound her scarf around her neck, and pulled on her mittens. Then after locking up, she was running down Main Street toward the town square.

  She’d looked forward to Christmas once. She’d almost looked forward to it with Brady. Now, again, it was all around her. A little boy bumped into her legs with a shout, “Santa’s here!” then raced off toward the gazebo.

  And Cara saw Jill coming across the square with a couple of her kindergarten students and their parents. Even without her husband, she’d found a way to celebrate, to be a part of Christmas again without Adam.

  Jill broke away from the group to hug Cara. “Thank you so much. I loved the story you wrote for me. What a wonderful gift!”

  “For a wonderful friend,” Cara murmured. “Be happy,” she said, but with a quick wave Jill was gone again to rejoin her group. Leaving Cara alone until a familiar, deep male voice spoke from behind.

  “Any trees left, miss?” It was Brady!

  “A few,” she said, heart thumping, avoiding his gaze. “They’d be homeless tonight. But I didn’t want them to end up in the town dump or be sold to make mulch. I’ve talked to people at the children’s orphanage. They’d love to have some trees for the kids.” She remembered the three boys, each with his own tree.

  “You can never have too many trees,” Brady murmured.

  “I’m also donating to the assisted living facility across town.”

  Just because she’d meant to avoid the holiday didn’t mean they shouldn’t enjoy it.

  “There are families who don’t have much either,” she went on, talking too fast, still not looking at Brady. “I can deliver to them later.”

  “And we can make other people happy.”

  We, he’d said. Cara reached into her pocket. “But before that—” She pulled out the present she’d made f
or him that afternoon. But Brady only said thanks then slipped the package into his parka. “Later,” he said. “First…I have to tell you. Everything.”

  He turned her to him then framed her face in his warm hands. Brady never seemed to feel cold but Cara was shivering. For once, she didn’t mind. She’d meant to give him her gift before they talked about his past, but as long as he touched her, forgave her…

  ~*~

  Brady couldn’t believe she was here. He’d gone to the lot, which was closed, found her house empty, then looked all over the town square until he finally spied her talking to Jill. Cara looked as uncertain now as he felt.

  “I’m sorry I ran out,” she said, “when I heard Doug about the exam.”

  “Let me explain,” Brady began. “I should have before. I wanted to tell you—but then you walked into the inn and heard Doug.” His steady gaze held hers. “I did take that final exam off Beth’s desk, Cara. But I didn’t know it then, I swear. I’d scooped it up along with my class notes and senior essay, which she and I had talked about that day during a tutoring session. Then later, Doug and I studied together at my house, and while I was helping my mom fix some snacks, he found the exam among my notes from class.”

  “He took it,” Cara guessed.

  Brady nodded. “He even told me he ‘needed an edge’ the next day. At the time I didn’t know what he meant because I didn’t see him with the test questions and answers while I was out of the room. He’d been clever enough the next day to get a high grade but not ace his final—which I did. I’d studied a lot. I wanted to please your sister after all the help she’d given me. Prove myself. Then in my backpack they found my notes, my essay, the test and answer key Beth had prepared.”

  “Circumstantial evidence,” Cara said, defending him, to Brady’s surprise, as she always had Beth. Her trust made it easier for him to say the rest.

  “Doug claimed I sold him the test answers. With that and my relationship with your sister—she’d been my mentor, and we’d spent a lot of time together on English and debate—I looked even more guilty.”

  “So did she. Beth was fired for negligence. She hadn’t safeguarded the final exam, they claimed. But you and Doug were friends. Why didn’t he tell the truth?”

  “And disappoint his overbearing father? The mayor was a powerful man in this town. From the first, he helped Doug cover. After all, his son was an honor student in every subject but English and he’d studied hard to make up for that, he said. Doug had already been accepted to college on early admission. To avoid jeopardizing his spot with a poor final in English, he’d given in to temptation when I offered to sell him the test. And I was the real ring leader.” Her gaze held the same sadness she must have seen in his. “Doug’s father buried his role in the scandal—and offered me full tuition to college if I kept my mouth shut.”

  “A bribe.”

  “He knew my weak spot. I hadn’t gotten that football scholarship, if you remember. And my parents had three kids headed for college.”

  “You didn’t take the money,” Cara said, her tone firm.

  Brady’s mood lifted. “I might have been a cocky kid then but, no. After a while I tried to focus on getting my act together instead. I put myself through school with loans, part-time jobs and some money from my parents. But he hadn’t stopped there.”

  “Doug’s father threatened you?”

  “My family.” Brady looked away. “He said if I spoke out, their store—Comfort and Joy—wouldn’t be around by the next Christmas. He’d see to that.”

  “Oh, Brady.”

  “The store was their livelihood. It still is. I couldn’t take that chance.” He hesitated. “Then I came home this December. I couldn’t bear the thought of something more happening to my dad without him—and Mom, my sisters too—knowing the truth.” He paused again. “I guess we all carry the past around with us. Doug wasn’t right about overlooking that. But his father also isn’t the mayor anymore, he’s no longer powerful. And I’m not that eighteen-year-old boy. I’m not like Tommy was. I won’t let Doug’s dad harm me now, or those I love.”

  “You have to tell them, Brady.” He could almost hear her say the words. I should have believed you.

  “Too bad I don’t even know where they are.”

  A bright female voice said, “They’re home!” Hope had rushed toward him from the edge of the square, her arm linked through Chris’s as they worked their way through the crowd. “I tried to tell you when we ‘talked’ about Chris, but you rushed out of the store. And you missed them at home. They came back late Friday after you moved out, went straight to bed, and they’ve been at the rehab center in Portland all week again.” She paused. “Mom said she sensed something was troubling you, but she’d try to wait until you were ready to talk about it.”

  And then, he saw Faith too, behind Hope and Chris, with the new man in her life. “Drew and I are back,” she announced, her strawberry-blond hair gleaming under the light, her green eyes filled with joy. “Just in time for Christmas.”

  “And the pageant,” Cara added.

  They all exchanged hugs, including her as well, before Hope grinned.

  “Check your phone, big brother. Someone’s trying to reach you.”

  To his surprise, he had a text waiting.

  You’re expected for dinner tomorrow. Be there.

  “Mom?” he said.

  “I guess she couldn’t wait any longer. They wanted to be here for the pageant, but Dad’s too tired. They’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” he said. Wow. He pulled Cara close. “Come with me?” he asked.

  He wasn’t the family pariah? Their Black Sheep?

  “Of course,” she said.

  As if by mutual agreement, the three couples wandered the rest of the way to the gazebo where it was town tradition to kiss under the mistletoe, and where it was said a kiss there foretold a wedding in the near future.

  “You know what this means,” he murmured before his mouth met hers.

  As Brady drew back at last from Cara, she gazed up at him with warmth—and a growing love?—in her eyes. Chris and Hope, Drew and Faith weren’t the only ones who glowed now. So did he. So did Cara.

  “I want to really live, Brady. I want to be with you.”

  “All the way.” He cradled her face in his hands. “I already love you, Cara.” He paused. “And maybe that’s nothing new.”

  “For me either. I love you too, Brady. I have for years.”

  Then they kissed again for good luck, for Christmas.

  Epilogue

  For a woman who’d promised to forget Christmas this year, Cara wasn’t doing very well. Or rather, she was doing great at last. For the first time in twelve years she felt a true part of Christmas Town—and, now, of Brady’s family.

  At the Sullivan’s dining room table everyone had gathered to eat a tremendous feast. Faith, Hope, Brady and their significant others had done all the cooking. Her siblings had teased Hope about her clumsiness and her lack of cooking skills but all in good fun and Hope didn’t seem to mind. There was ham, turkey, roast beef and all the trimmings then desserts. Pumpkin and apple pies, Christmas cookies, a figgy pudding—and the pound cake Cara had baked from her mother’s recipe, its three layers spread with a whipped mocha cream. The entire thing had disappeared in minutes.

  “See my mother smiling,” Brady said beside her. People were beginning to push away from the table, groaning over how full they felt. “She has all three of her kids here today. And each of us has something to really celebrate.”

  Brady nodded toward Drew and Chris who fit in nicely here for his sisters. And so, to Cara’s surprise, did she. With Brady.

  “I think today has been good for your father too,” she said.

  In the living room they shared a love seat and joined the others. A traditional tree—the one Brady and Chris had decorated—sparkled by the fireplace. In the front yard another soft snowfall overnight had created a white Christmas, a promise Christmas Town al
ways kept. Cara studied the lights on the tree, always her favorite, and then pressed against Brady’s side. He slipped an arm around her, and Cara saw Joy Sullivan smile again.

  “I have to warn you. Mom’s already thinking about grandbabies,” Brady murmured.

  “That seems a bit premature…”

  “Don’t underestimate my mother. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”

  “Hmm,” Cara said. She’d never thought that far ahead but now…

  Before she could contemplate their future, Brady’s father William began to pass out presents. And briefly, Cara was tempted to withdraw once more. She certainly didn’t expect a gift. But then, he held out a box clumsily wrapped in pretty paper to her. “Brady used the service at Dockery’s this year for all of us, but this one looks…more personal.”

  “I didn’t have time for Dockery’s,” Brady said in answer to his father’s teasing. He looked at her. “Open it, Cara.”

  “Not before you open yours. I wanted you to last night.” Cara recognized her own package for him under the tree and he went to get it. Brady tore off the paper printed with rosy-cheeked Santas and whimsical reindeer. Inside was a small book with “Brady’s Christmas Gift” on the cover, handmade like those for her friends. He scanned it inside, his eye catching a phrase here and there. Enough for now to get her message, she hoped. It was fiction—because she hadn’t known the truth then—but it was her version of his story and close enough to reality. He closed it then looked at Cara.

  “You wrote a story for me?”

  “One with a happy ending.”

  “I’m all for happy,” he murmured. “You wrote this to show me you believe.”

  “Before I heard the truth.”

  Her fingers trembled as Cara opened her gift from Brady next. Inside the box with a beautiful gray cashmere pullover that would complement her eyes, he said, she found a leather journal. “We gave each other books.”