Winter in Wonderland

by Kari Trumbo

  “What? Years?” Her friend had been plotting to spring this on her for that long?

  “Yep. I’ve had my eye on that property, and the Bisbee flip provided enough money to pull it off. It was the hand of God - I’ve been praying for you to come back, and this lined up too perfectly. Now the rest is up to you. Your carriage just turned into a pumpkin, so deal with it.”

  “Well, thank you, Fairy Godmother!” Ashley growled. “I stayed away from Wonderland on purpose. I don’t want to see Sam again. He hurt me. I loved him and he dumped me like yesterday’s burger wrapper.”

  “And did you give him a chance to cool off before you packed your bags and disappeared? Lemme check my notes … mmm … no. Aren’t you curious after all these years to know what was so important that he felt he had to bag on you, on Christmas?”

  Ashley shook her head and felt the burn of tears. “No, I’m really not. I thought he cared enough to marry me, which means he knew me well enough to trust me, to devote his life to me. But overnight he got angry, he lashed out, and he broke it all off. I’ve never seen him like that.” He hadn’t gotten physical, but then he hadn’t needed to. He’d done enough damage as it was. She’d done nothing she could think of to deserve it – and she spent seven years thinking.

  “I’d bet he’s changed just as much as you have. It will take you about two months to fully renovate Grammy’s house if you keep to your best time. It’ll be winter soon and you’re in a small town far away from everything, so give yourself at least three months. If you don’t have your answers by Valentine’s Day, cut your losses and just sell the house as-is. You’ll still make enough to make it worth your time.”

  Ashley didn’t want to face that house, those memories – not just of her wonderful grandmother, but of all the evenings she’d spent there with Sam. She didn’t want to see what a year of emptiness had done to her favorite place, or how seven years had changed the love of her life. She’d spent those years working mostly with men, but had never met anyone else that could compare to Sam. “No.”

  “No?” Evelyne’s voice teetered toward worry.

  “No. I will give it until Christmas, but not a day longer.” She mashed the END button. Evelyne had no right to set her up like this. They’d been friends since school and business associates ever since Evelyne had helped her with the paperwork on her very first home. But just because she knew finance didn’t make her a life expert.

  Someone tapped her shoulder. “Excuse me, miss?”

  She turned to find a large old man with a pure white beard, a generous smile, a belly to match and shocking bright blue eyes. At first glance he looked like a Viking gone to seed. “Yes?”

  “I couldn’t help but hear that you’re looking for a ride. Which direction are you headed?”

  She looked him over, noting that he had no luggage and didn’t appear to be waiting for any to come down the carousel. “You wouldn’t know it unless you’re local. I’m headed to Wonderland.”

  His eyes twinkled and Ashley backed up a step. She’d never seen eyes actually do that. “I do know it – happens to be along my way. I’d be happy to give you a ride.”

  She wanted to ask him if he had a sleigh or was that just a vibe he gave off to all the ladies? She adjusted her bag and frowned at the car rental desks. She had an account with Avis – it would be the easiest thing to rent a car …

  … and be stuck paying for it until she left. Besides, this was South Dakota, where almost everyone was nice. The chance the old coot was some serial killer Santa look-alike were slim. She shuddered, but answered, “Well, okay, seeing as you’re offering.”

  He started leisurely strolling toward the exit, letting her catch up. “What brings you to Wonderland? They don’t get many visitors between Labor Day and the week before Christmas.”

  So he did know Wonderland. They almost closed the town once tourist season ended, except to draw people back in, just for a little financial boost, they decorated all the Ladies with lights and garland for Christmas. Residents created a large choir and sang door-to-door during Christmas week for the tourists willing to brave the cold, and even had a special flavor of coffee at the local coffee shop, made only in Wonderland during that week. People would drive from as far as Casper to get a bag of it, and last she’d heard they were doing some mail-order business as well.

  “I have, uh, family there,” she mumbled. Though it wasn’t true anymore – her parents had left years before to RV around the country. She’d stayed because of Sam and her dream. When that went up in smoke, she’d left. And last year, Grammy Jean passed.

  He laughed as he took the heavy bag from her shoulder and slung it across his own. “What are their names? I probably know them.”

  She wanted to protest, but her arm hurt too much to take it back. “Rogers. Though my grandmother lived there too until last year.”

  “Jean Kelsey? She was Ava Kelsey’s mother, and Ava married Franklin Rogers …”

  “Right. That’s Mom and Dad.” For as much as this guy knew, he really could be Santa.

  “Well, I’ll be – I knew both your grandmothers back in school! Martha Rogers was a woman to behold.”

  She’d been told that Rogers women were strong, but that gene must have skipped her generation. “Yeah, she was pretty amazing.”

  “You must be tired. Let me get you in the car. It’ll be a long drive … well, you know that. Almost anywhere in the Hills is a long drive this late in the year. Though it hasn’t snowed yet this year, so the roads should be clear.”

  She nodded and followed him out the doors to the parking area. Rapid City Regional was small and only had two lots. Her Santa lookalike had yet to tell her his name or where he was actually going. “So … what did you say your name was?”

  He led her to a crimson Mustang coupe with vanity plates that read RUDYRED and pressed the key fob. It beeped and the trunk slowly opened. “You can call me Nick. I’m headed for Pine Ridge.”

  She swallowed as he put her bag in his trunk. His name was Nick, his plates were RUDY, he looked like Santa and he knew everything. She was not insane, couldn’t be – just tired after a hard flip and a long flight. When was the last time she had a full glass of water? “Has anyone ever told you –?”

  “All the time.” His eyes twinkled again.

  Ashley went to the passenger side and prayed. Had God sent an angel that looked and acted like Santa, just when she needed one? “Well, good. Now that we’ve established that you get asked a lot of questions …” She seated herself and buckled in.

  Nick got into the car and laughed softly. “The questions in life are boring. It’s the answers that hit you where it hurts.” He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there in no time.”

  It took Sam a week to get to the reno house at 52 Bluebird Lane and mow the lawn. The dead grass and weeds had grown up high enough over the summer to cover the first-floor windows. He leaned against the brush mower and took a deep breath. At least it hadn’t snowed yet – that would make the task impossible. Given that it was the end of November, that was a miracle.

  He pressed the choke a few times, then tugged the pull starter. It grumbled to life, and he took a moment to watch the engine work before maneuvering the big machine over the sidewalk to the property’s edge. The house sat on a half-acre lot, so this would take a while. He couldn’t remember if he and Ashley had left anything out in the yard. If they did, he prayed he wouldn’t destroy it with the mower, or destroy the mower.

  Someone grabbed his arm. He let go of the top bar, stopping the blades but not the engine, and turned to find Chelsey Miles, her green eyes lit up and her bright red lips seeming to bloom larger. Oh, great … How did she always manage to find him?

  “Sam! I haven’t seen you over here in years!” She smiled and squeezed his arm tighter, pulling him closer. Her scent was something expensive and musky, clinging to the air around her like day-old noodles to a pan.

  He killed the engi
ne and suppressed a sigh of frustration. Chelsey was always interested in what he was doing, often showing up at job sites and making a nuisance of herself. That the interest wasn’t mutual never seemed to occur to her. “Yeah, I just have a job to do today.” Maybe for once she’d get the hint and let him work, instead of hanging around and getting in the way.

  No such luck. “You work so hard. Too hard. Don’t you ever take a break?” She laughed, tightened her grip and added her other hand, as if she was worried he’d bolt. He wasn’t generally a runner, but facing Chelsey never did any good – she didn’t have the common sense God gave a lemon. So fleeing might be an option

  “I do what I need to do.” He turned away to look at the house beyond all the mess. They’d taken off the siding, which now sat forlorn and forgotten in its thermal plastic barrier. He hadn’t been able to look at it in years.

  “Well, good, because I’ve petitioned the town council to heavily fine the owner of this property for it being such an eyesore. I guess I don’t have to, now that you’re handling it. What a wonderful thing to do.” Chelsey scowled at the house as if it might jump out and bite her, then grinned at him again.

  Perfect setup. “I own this property.” Okay, he half-owned it, but that still let him enjoy growling that at Chelsey.

  It was effective – Chelsey let go of his arm like it was electrified. “Oh. Uh … I didn’t know that. I thought …”

  “I really should get back to getting this cleared up. Especially if it’s so important to the city council.” He thumbed toward the weeds. “Big job. I’d like to get done before dark.”

  She took a step back, but the musk was still enough to choke a bison. “There’s a rumor Ashley might be coming back to town. I heard she bought her grandmother’s old place.” Her eyes gleamed with the fresh gossip.

  Ah, now he understood why she’d wanted to talk to him so badly. She wanted to know how he felt about Ashley coming back. Everyone probably would. Tough beans for them. “Well, then I hope I can get this done for her before she gets here.” He turned back to the mower and leaned over to grab the pull start again.

  “I heard she was married.” She leaned closer, waiting for a reaction.

  “Good for her. I hope she’s happy.” It was a bluff – his mind was suddenly back on their first kiss. Powerful, invigorating, nothing like he’d ever expected a simple press of the lips to be. But then, nothing with Ashley was ever like he’d expected. He’d assumed that, like him, she’d never find anyone quite the same. Clearly he’d been wrong.

  “You’ve been so good to stay faithful to that awful woman, but she just wasn’t as good as you deserve.” Chelsey pouted and put her arms around his waist, pulling him away from his task once more.

  Sam rolled his eyes. Everything about Chelsey was fake, even her concern. Especially her concern. “I don’t plan to worry about it.” He peeled her arms off, using more force than he wanted.

  “We’ll see about that soon enough.” She dove in again and tried to kiss him, just as a red Mustang he’d never seen before slowed almost to a stop right beside them.

  He ducked away from Chelsey’s advance just in time, and spotted a familiar face in the window of the muscle car. Long dark hair that reached past her shoulders, big beautiful eyes that registered recognition, then pain … Ashley! Chelsey tried another swoop, but he didn’t even see it – he was already heading for the car.

  Ashley turned to say something to the driver, and the car gunned down the street, leaving nothing but a loud rumble behind.

  “Told you she was married.” Chelsey carefully touched her hair, making sure the pom was exactly on the top of her head.

  Sam was legitimately surprised. Ashley had never let anyone else drive her around, not even him. It was one of the few things she feared. She had to be in control. So she probably was married – and to a man who looked old enough to be her dad, from the looks of it. He didn’t want to believe it, but what other explanation could there be?

  “So, Sam, wanna be my duet with the carolers for Christmas week?” Chelsey wondered. “I still need someone to be my baritone companion. Wouldn’t you love to spend the week singing all over Wonderland with me?”

  He didn’t want to do that or anything else. “Sorry, I can’t – got work to do.” Sam reached for the pull start of the brush mower to drown out any further ploys. There weren’t enough jobs in Wonderland to ever make him busy enough to forget Ashley. But Chelsey? He’d start taking assignments in Wyoming if it meant being rid of her.

  Chapter Three

  Ashley sunk deep into the leather seat of the Ford and sighed as Nick pulled away. The first time she’d seen Sam in years, and he looked amazing. But Chelsey Miles was all over him like an octopus. Well, he was within his rights – Ashley had left him, right after he’d left her. He was free to date anyone he chose. Pity he’d chosen a woman like Chelsey, but that was his business.

  Nick raised his bushy white eyebrows at her. “Want to tell me where I’m dropping you off?”

  She’d gotten the code for the electronic lockbox on Grammy Jean’s house from Evelyne. She’d already planned to stay there even before seeing the shape the reno house was in – sheesh, the weeds were taller than she was! “202 Sleigh Bell – it’s just a few blocks from here.”

  “No problem. Is there anything else you need? It’s winter and there hasn’t been anyone living there for a long time. No food, the stores close in an hour, and it’s going to be cold until the furnace warms up.”

  The gas station used to deliver pizza long ago, and a little grocery store/pub was only a few blocks away for shopping tomorrow. “I’ll manage, thank you.” She appreciated his kindness, but she needed time to process coming back to Wonderland and seeing Sam more than she needed to eat right know.

  Nick turned right off Bluebird Street onto Sleigh Bell and parked immediately. There on the corner was Grammy Jean’s huge stately home, a match for any of the Ladies. It needed some repair, but looked almost the same as when she was running around the huge corner lot as a kid. The main portion of the house was a soft orange color, with burnt orange, red, and white accents on all the intricate Queen Anne trim. Two parapets made it look like a miniature castle.

  Nick shut off the engine and popped the trunk. Ashley got out to retrieve her bag. “Thank you again. I would’ve been paying through the nose for a rental car if not for you.” Maybe riding with others once in a great while wasn’t so bad, though it certainly wouldn’t top her list.

  He smiled and handed her a card. “If you ever need anything, let me know. The world’s too big a place to face it alone.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t quite alone - her parents weren’t dead, simply traveling – but before she could, he was driving away. She dropped the card in her purse and turned to face the house. Many in Wonderland considered it to be the town’s grandest, yet none had felt up to the task of owning it. Grammy Jean would’ve been disappointed – she’d always kept the place immaculate.

  But the paint was still in decent condition, only needing a touch-up. That could wait for spring. The sidewalk was in good repair, and Ashley trudged up the walk, up the steps to the wide rounded porch and finally the cheery red door. Grammy Jean had picked that color out especially to match the rest of the house. Red and its variations had been her favorites, and the whole house looked amazing in the fall and so festive at Christmastime.

  Ashley punched in the code on the lockbox hanging from the doorknob and pulled down the lock. Inside were the keys to the house. She took them, slapped the lock back on the doorknob for the listing agent to pick up, and went inside. The home had been for sale until a week before and the heat had been turned down to about 45 degrees. She shivered as she tried to remember where the Thermostat was. There had been no need for her to touch it before.

  All around were the seedlings of memories: baking banana pudding bread in the oven, Grammy Jean’s dog Bark scrambling through the house, trying to sit like a lady in the t
ea room where Grammy and her mother would talk. She wanted so much to be seen as an adult, yet when she’d finally become one she’d never come back to have tea with Grammy. She’d been too afraid of seeing Sam.

  She found the thermostat in the kitchen and turned it up to a suitable 68. A turn of the faucet handle showed the water had been shut off. She’d need to find the water main to turn it back on. But all those things could wait until after she put her bag upstairs and got comfortable with the house again.

  After tugging a thick sweater from her bag and putting it on, she zipped the duffel bag back up and carried it up the wide staircase. The flowered, low-pile stair runner’s pattern had always made her a little dizzy. Most of the house had pristine oak floors – only the stairs and one sitting room were carpeted.

  She’d once thought that Grammy Jean’s house would make the best B&B in town. She’d imagined and planned, but finally shifted her ideas to the house she purchased with Sam. Grammy’s home was beautiful, but it was also home. She didn’t want to invite people in to disturb her memories.

  She walked past the master bedroom, admiring all the delicate furniture Grammy had collected to fill her house. She couldn’t make herself go in. That had been Grammy’s private space. She’d never been allowed to set foot in there, and now, even as the owner, she couldn’t break the old rule.

  Her phone buzzed and she picked it up. “’Lo?”

  “Have you made it to the house yet?” Evelyne laughed.

  “Yes, no thanks to you. I also saw Sam on the sidewalk, wearing Chelsey Miles like a coat. So at least someone got a decent welcome today.” Sometimes snark helped blunt the hurt, she’d found.

  “Oh, well, that part wasn’t planned,” Evelyne assured. “Want me to order a pizza for us? I could swing by in about an hour.”