A Legendary Christmas

by Jan Scarbrough

  She had caused the pain for Matt and everyone else she loved when she stupidly made the one decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life

  Possibly, that one decision was going to take away one of the best things that could have happened to her.

  Matt.

  It was over. No hopes and dreams here, so she might as well get used to it.

  With a cleansing exhale, she played a lazy gaze over the room, landing on each and every carving Matt had done, taking in the loving care he put into each detail. She perused the rough-hewn beams, and her search lingered on the precise layering of chinks between the cedar logs. Closing her eyes, she imagined Matt up here working on this cabin in his spare time—nights, weekends, anytime he could muster. That was the way he was.

  Determined. Goal-oriented.

  Again, she sniffed, but even with her eyes closed she couldn’t stop the tears.

  She’d screwed up.

  But the past was the past. She had to move forward and let Matt go. And if he knew what was good for him, he needed to let her go, too.

  She opened her eyes. Yes. That was exactly what had to happen.

  Turning, she glimpsed at her clothes scattered near the hearth and prayed they were dry. As she reached for them, her gaze landed on the plush rug, the coffee table pushed askew, the indentation where they had lain in the night—all evidence of their lovemaking.

  A pang settled in her tummy.

  She dismissed it. Another memory. It meant nothing.

  “Liar,” she whispered, swiping away a lingering tear.

  It meant everything but she would not dwell on it. There was no hope. She wasn’t worthy of Matt. He was a good guy and confused as much as she. And she wanted the best for him.

  That wouldn’t happen with her.

  Snatching up her clothes, she tossed the afghan aside.

  “Get dressed and be ready to leave as soon as he gets back.” That was her only defense. Get the hell out. Yes, Matt nailed her with that earlier. She was good at leaving.

  So be it.

  Chapter Eight

  The silence in the Jeep split the cool climate between them like a razor sharp icicle hanging from a rooftop. Although unspoken words hung in the air, neither of them dared break the silence. Matt supposed they’d each come to the same conclusion.

  Give it up. This wasn’t going anywhere.

  When he returned to the cabin, he found her dressed and ready to leave, sitting on the hearth and staring at the dying embers.

  Appropriate.

  Ready to go.

  Saying nothing, he changed into dry clothing. Once dressed, he motioned toward the door and led her to his vehicle. The hardest part was getting out of his short dirt road. After that, the Jeep plowed through the six inches or so of snow on the mountain road with cautious ease, the morning sun already having melted some of it. He was thankful this side of the mountain faced east.

  He sensed a change in Chelly the moment he stepped inside the door. There was something final about that sensation. He didn’t question but accepted.

  It was over. Finally. Maybe now he could let it go.

  That was the way it remained as they drove the five miles or so back toward Lake Road. They passed the lodge and the place where Chelly’s car slid off the road. With a peripheral glance, he saw her look down the mountain. Her chest lifted and lowered with a deep sigh.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, still looking out the window.

  He wanted to say a lot of things then, like, “How could I not save you? I love you,” but he didn’t. “You’re welcome,” he said back, his stare fixed on the road.

  That was their only exchange until they turned into Suzie’s drive. Chelly sat up straighter as she watched the front door of her sister’s house. She scooted a little closer to the edge of her seat, as far as the seatbelt would allow, and clutched at the door handle.

  Eager to get the hell out of here.

  He stopped the Jeep and everything froze. Finally, he turned and found her peering back at him, her eyes glazed with tears.

  “I know you will probably never forgive me, Matt,” she said softly, “but I am truly sorry. Just let it go, okay? You have to forget about it, and me, and move on.”

  Well, there it was, the final blow. Confirmation that there was not a snowball’s chance in hell that they would ever come to terms.

  He held her stare for way too long, and her tears spilled over. Quickly, he nodded and hoped she understood what that meant. He would forget. He would move on.

  The lifting of the door handle latch broke the silence and Chelly turned away. In an instant, she was out of the truck and carefully making her way through the snow, and toward the house.

  Make sure she gets inside, then leave.

  In truth, he wanted to linger, catch the morning rays glinting off her hair, take in her determined step across the porch, wait and see if perhaps she might give him a backward glance.

  She didn’t.

  Suzie opened the door and within a half-second, Chelly was whisked inside.

  He exhaled, steaming up his windshield.

  Abruptly, the front door opened again and his heart picked up a cadence. Suzie took a step out onto the porch and waved. A thank you, he was certain. Huffing out one last cleansing breath, an attempt to still his racing heart, he waved back and put the Jeep into reverse.

  “Put it to rest, Branson. It’s over.”

  It was time to get to his own family. Where he belonged.

  Where his heart was safe.

  * * * *

  “Me! Me! It’s my turn Uncle Bad!”

  Chelly watched as Karly jumped up and down in front of her uncle and begged for his hands. He grasped both of her tiny palms in his while she climbed flat-footed up his legs and thighs and turned a flip, grinning all the while.

  “Again! Again!”

  Brad tossed a look of feigned despair at Chelly. “Your kids are wearing me out!”

  “He loves every minute of it,” Suzie said from her right.

  All three children—Katie, Karly and Petey—giggled and bounced on the floor in front of him. “More!” Petey said.

  Chelly watched as Brad scooped his son into his arms and sank into an overstuffed chair behind him, propping his legs on an ottoman. “I’m pooped.”

  The girls started to climb.

  “Katie. Karly. Come here. Uncle Bad is tired.” Chelly motioned for her girls and they came running. She gathered them onto her lap.

  Suzie leaned closer and whispered. “And we definitely do not want to wear Uncle Bad out, he needs to save some of that energy for me.”

  Chelly looked into her sister’s eyes and caught the twinkle. She laughed out loud.

  Grinning, Suzie hugged her. “Well, that was nice. That’s the first laugh I’ve heard from you all day.

  Glancing off with a frown, she chided herself. She thought she had hidden her sadness pretty darn well. Seeing her parents made her temporarily forget about Matt and the decadent night they spent together. She was lost in the moment of hugging and crying and apologizing—seemed she was always apologizing lately—and focused only on the events happening right in front of her. She thought she’d pulled it off.

  Obviously, her sister could see through her ploy.

  “Oh, I beg to differ,” she replied. “I’m pretty sure I laughed earlier when the kids were opening their presents and Petey got tangled in the ribbon. And what about when Daddy slurped up that banana pudding and it spurted on his shirt? I’m sure I laughed then.”

  Suzie shook her head. “No. You smiled a little. But no laughter.”

  She waved her off. “Ridiculous.” She thought for a moment. “What about when Brad brought the puppy in for the girls? I know I laughed watching the kids all-a-tumble on the floor with the pup. That was pretty funny when he took off with Petey’s sock.”

  Again, Suzie shook her head. “No, you barely smiled then.”

  Smirking, Chelly exhaled hard.
“Well, all right. Maybe not.”

  Chaos ensued. The girls rolled off her lap and wrestled with the puppy again on the floor. Petey climbed all over his dad trying not to get tickled. Her mother scurried about, picking up stray ribbon and wrapping paper, and her father fiddled with the stereo, attempting to find a radio station with Christmas music that fit his taste. He was tired of Rock Around the Christmas Tree.

  “What happened, Chelly? Up at Matt’s cabin?”

  Surprised that she would ask—or even sense that she should ask—Chelly looked away. She didn’t want to meet Suzie’s stare, and felt every iota of its intensity on her face. “Nothing. Nothing that I want to talk about right now, anyway.”

  Suzie remained quiet and pressed her hand into her sister’s.

  “I just want to sit here and enjoy my family,” Chelly whispered.

  Suzie squeezed. “Yeah,” she said, “Look at us. We’re pretty darned good-looking to be so dysfunctional, aren’t we?”

  Chelly bit her lip and looked at her sister. Both women burst out laughing. She laughed so hard, in fact, she hoped no one noticed her tears.

  * * * *

  Thankful for the busy day, Chelly sat on the side of her bed some hours later and breathed a heavy sigh. She’d fought tears all day, for various reasons. The children were beautiful and funny and so full of life. So grateful that her parents were forgiving and loving people, she’d choked back tears more than once looking at them. When her father came close to tearing up himself, she almost lost it, but held on. And Suzie, her compassionate sister Suzie, who loved her unconditionally, and should probably hate her, was always there with open arms. She owed her so much, and didn’t deserve it.

  Matt filtered in and out of her thoughts throughout the day but she mastered pushing him out quite easily by dinner time.

  Now, in the quiet of the night, the cacophony of Christmas laid to rest, and her mind longing to still itself, he was there.

  Reaching toward the pillows, she tugged at the quilt and slipped between the cool sheets. The pillowcase was crisp and sweet smelling, and she wanted to bury herself in the comfort. Just twenty-four hours earlier, she’d lain on her same side, looking into a rolling fire, with Matt spooning her back. Now, she lay alone, looking into the small night lamp on her bedside table, and finally, the tears flowed.

  A knock sounded and without waiting for a response, Suzie slipped inside. Chelly looked up and knew Suzie could see her tear-stained face. No use to hide it now.

  Her big sister approached and Chelly sat up. Suzie’s arms encircled her and Chelly continued to cry.

  “Did he hurt you?” Suzie asked.

  She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “Was he angry?”

  “Not too much. Some.”

  “Hm.” Suzie stroked her hair and Chelly kept her face buried on her sister’s shoulder.

  After a moment, she said, “We made love. Um, maybe I should say we had sex. I don’t think there was any love.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Chelly glanced up. “I’m pretty sure I know about having sex, Suzie.”

  “No, I mean, are you sure there was no love in it.”

  She couldn’t reply to that out loud, but internally, she knew. Yes, there was love in it, at least from her perspective. She’d never stopped loving Matt. Not really.

  Pulling back, Suzie cupped Chelly’s face in her hands and tilted it to look straight into her eyes. “Give yourself time. Give him time. Chelly, he’s been miserable for years. Hard to turn that misery off on a dime.”

  “No, Suzie.” Chelly blinked away tears and shook her head. “It’s too late. I told him to forget me and move on. There is too much hurt. And frankly, I’m not worth it. I’m the last person he needs. I’m so screwed up.”

  Suzie knit her brow and pursed her lips. “You are not screwed up. You’re emotional. You’re confused. You gave into sex when maybe you should have waited. But you’re not screwed up, and dammit, you are worthy.”

  “Suzie…”

  “I don’t want to hear any more about that. You hear me? Stop beating yourself up.” She stood. “Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow we play, go shopping, and eat too much. Then we get to work. Next week is full and I’m relying on you. Got it?”

  Confused at her sister’s turn, she nodded. “Sure. It’s just, Suzie...?”

  “I mean it. You don’t have time to pine away about Matt. Snap out of it. We’ve got work to do.”

  Suzie paused at the door for only a second, then left. Sighing, Chelly flicked off the light and fell back onto the pillows.

  “Snap out of it. Sure. I’ll do that.”

  Dark blanketed her and she was surprised to realize that her tears were gone and she didn’t feel like crying any more. At once, her door opened again, a triangle of light pushing through while Suzie poked her head inside the room.

  “One question.”

  “Okay.”

  “Was it good?”

  No hesitation. “It was wonderful.”

  Pause. “Then that’s all I need to know.” Click. The door closed and the dark was back. Thank God.

  Chapter Nine

  “Okay, so here is the deal. I’ve dropped the kids off at Mama and Daddy’s, so you, my dear sister, are coming to the lodge with Brad and me.”

  Chelly looked up from the book she was reading, and took in her sister’s stern expression. “I thought I was babysitting.”

  “No. Change of plans.”

  “But I wanted to babysit.”

  Suzie stood hands on hips, her stance broad, her barely five-foot-three frame erect, her look determined. They’d been through this no less that a dozen times already. Brad was hosting a big New Year’s Eve bash at the lodge, the first one in a couple of decades or more. With the renovation finished a few months ago, he had invited the entire town for a New Year’s celebration.

  Suzie wanted Chelly to go.

  Chelly wanted none of it.

  Babysitting was her excuse.

  “You’ve worked your fingers to the bone all week trying to forget about Matt. You’ve brooded long enough. You’re going to get out and party tonight.”

  She fiddled with a page of the book. “I’m not brooding. I’ve already told you. I’m not going.”

  “You’re a stubborn little minx.”

  She returned to her reading. “No more stubborn than you. Besides, now that I’m not babysitting, I can finish this book.”

  Plopping beside her on the couch, Suzie grasped the book and pushed it into Chelly’s lap. “You can read anytime. It’s New Year’s Eve. That only comes once a year. Come on, sis. Let your hair down.”

  Snorting, she shifted on the couch. “I don’t need to let my hair down. My hair is fine. My life is fine. I want to stay here and read.” She snatched up her book and turned a page.

  Suzie huffed. “You can’t stay cooped up here forever. You’ve got to get back into the Legend social life sooner or later.”

  “I choose later.” She didn’t look up. “Besides, I’ve only been here a week. Give me a break. I don’t need to start the new year with back-stabbing whispers about me being the town slut.”

  “You’re not the town slut. I’m pretty sure Candy Crane has that title all tied up. Besides, it’s a party! It will put a smile on that sourpuss face of yours.”

  Not liking that last comment, she glared at her sister. “I do not have a sourpuss face.”

  “You do.”

  “Not.”

  “Do.”

  “Not! Crap. I’m not arguing with you.”

  “I bought a dress today. I think you should try it on.”

  Nice twist, sis. “No. Me and my sourpuss face are having a night in. I’m looking forward to popcorn. Maybe a bubble bath. Mind if I use your tub?”

  Rising, Suzie looked down at her. “You can be so damn difficult.”

  Smiling into her book, Chelly replied, “I know. I lik
e to get my way.”

  “All right. You’ve got it.” Heading toward the kitchen, she called over her shoulder. “I’m going to leave the dress on my bed, in case you change your mind after you take that bubble bath.”

  Chelly listened for her fading footsteps.

  “Not freakin’ likely,” she muttered, her nose stuck further in her book.

  * * * *

  Matt stepped onto his mother’s porch and twisted the door handle to let himself in. “Mama? I’m here,” he called into the room. “You ready?”

  She called out from the back of the house. “Almost. Be right there.”

  He paused at the entry and looked into the antique hall tree mirror. Adjusting his tie, he loosened it a bit, pulling it away from his neck. “Damn tie,” he muttered. “I would only do this for you, Mama.”

  “What?” His mother stepped beside him.

  “I said I would only do this for you. I still can’t believe you talked me into it.” She looked stunning standing there beside him. “By the way, you look beautiful. Papa was a lucky man.”

  She smiled at his reflection and straightened his tie. “You’re looking pretty spiffy yourself. And you’re right, your Papa was a lucky man.”

  Grinning into the mirror, he caught the sparkle in her eye.

  “Do you good to get out, Matt. Holed up there in that cave of yours,” she said. “You need to come out and play once in a while.”

  He snorted. “I’m not a social butterfly like my sisters. You know that.”

  Shrugging, she smiled again. “Ah, but you don’t have to be. Just be you. That’s good enough.”

  She grasped his shoulders and turned him to face her. “Matt Branson, I’m going to say something that I never thought I would say. Son, you need a woman.”

  Heat flushed his cheeks and neck. “Mama, don’t go there.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Matthew, what is it you want in life? You worry the hell out of me.”

  He never meant to worry her. Never had. He loved her with everything that was in him. “All I ever wanted was what you and Papa had, Mama. A home, a family…”

  “A wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “Chelly?”

  He paused. “Once upon a time.”

  Squinting at him, she went on. “You won’t find a wife, or make amends with Chelly, moping around in that cabin of yours.”