by Kari Trumbo
They had planned to live in a small apartment so they could start the business off right, investing as much as they needed to immediately. “Our lives have changed a lot since then.”
Evelyne pulled open the door and held it, waiting for Ashley. “He doesn’t want to join you anymore?”
Sam’s words from the tree farm when they’d talked about running a B&B again pulsed through her. He wanted to, but he hadn’t made any ironclad pledge. “We agreed not to talk about the future until after Christmas.”
“You agreed on this? Doesn’t that mean you have, in fact, talked about it?” Evelyne tapped her toe impatiently.
“I’m coming.” Ashley laughed and grabbed her coat. “We didn’t really talk about it.” More like, they’d kissed and agreed to not talk about it.
“What happens if he buys you a ring for Christmas?” Evelyne clicked a button, her little sports car beeped and the lights flashed.
Ashley almost laughed at Evelyne for locking her car. She never even locked her house at night. The car was low to the ground and she ducked her head as she climbed in. “That won’t happen – Sam doesn’t do frivolous stuff like that. He’d never waste the money.”
But if he did … she could hardly swallow. How would she react? She was the planner, the one who had ideas and worked them out. The first time around, there hadn’t even been a proposal. She’d just suggested they’d get a tax break and financing would be easier if they were married. That statement had prompted Sam to agree on their graduation day. The same day, he’d called South Dakota State and turned down the scholarship.
Evelyne laughed as she pressed the ignition. “Well, there isn’t a soul on this planet you know better than Sam Patterson. But have you prayed about this?”
She hadn’t. This whole time she’d felt guided, but hadn’t bothered to ask. No – had been afraid to ask, fearing that if she did, the good things coming her way might end. They had before. “No. I guess I was scared that if I turned this over to God, He might take Sam away again.”
“Newsflash, it wasn’t God who took him the first time. It was Chelsey Miles. She’s been jealous of you since the fourth grade.”
Heaviness settled over her when she thought about Chelsey and the gleam in her eye when she’d been after Sam that first day Ashley had come back. Sam didn’t want her, but would Chelsey ever leave him alone? “It was a rumor …”
Evelyne interrupted, “…. that Chelsey spread to a few people, me included. I didn’t believe it, so I didn’t repeat it, not even to you. I don’t know who Sam heard it from. Maybe Chelsey herself.”
If that was the case, then why hadn’t Chelsey tried harder to win Sam after she’d chased Ashley out of the picture? “I don’t understand why she’d start that rumor, then not act on it. She should’ve been married to Sam by now.”
Evelyne rolled her eyes as she pulled to a stop in front of the coffee shop. “You have a great eye for real estate, but you’re blind as a mole when it comes to Sam.” She got out of the car and waited on the sidewalk.
Ashley followed, brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Evelyne reached out, took Ashley’s elbow and pulled her close. “If Sam wanted to marry Chelsey,” she whispered, “he had seven years to do it. He didn’t. He didn’t even date her. He doesn’t even want to be around her, even though she’s been like a fly buzzing around his head the whole time. Don’t you get it? She did act on the rumor – she still is. But Sam doesn’t want her. He wants you. So why are you still questioning this?”
Ashley leaned back like her friend had hit her with a two-by-four. Had Sam given her any reason to doubt him, other than one horrendous lapse in judgment? Didn’t he deserve forgiveness and a fresh start, like she’d given herself when she’d run away? She blinked several times as if trying to cold-reboot her brain. “I … I don’t know why.”
“I’m not trying to push you any more than I already have, but I want you to be happy . You’ve had nothing in your life but numbers and work for so long. It’s nice to hear you talking about the one guy you’ve always loved. The one guy who’s been good for you.”
Ashley smiled, let Evelyne take her arm again and led her toward the café door. “But is he my Clark Kent?”
“If he’s not, then no one is. He may not be perfect, but he is the guy who stood by your side through two years of engagement while you saved for that house and started working on it. He didn’t even complain when you pushed back the wedding date so the house could be done for the ceremony.”
She had done that, hadn’t she? If anything, maybe she was as much to blame for the breakup as he was. He may have believed Chelsey, but she didn’t fight back for a second - she’d accepted his rejection without questioning. And Sam never argued – he always went along with her. “He really has changed. He stands up for himself now. He’s even pushed me to deal with losing Grammy Jean.”
“Well, then maybe you should do something about that,” Evelyne replied as she held the door open.
Ashley nodded, but her fear was still there, as difficult to remove as a stone wall after all these years.
Chapter Fifteen
Ashley smiled as she crossed December 23 off on her calendar. She was still working on the reno – Sam chipped in when he could, but caroling was a hard taskmaster – so her adjusted deadline was shot. But the siding was done, despite a few snow flurries. She’d finished installing all the light fixtures and made sure the electrical plates were secured. She’d touched up the paint where needed.
After a quick scan of her list, she couldn’t find anything left undone except clean up. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, she’d scrub and vacuum everything to make certain the house was immaculate, then replace the plastic wrap over the walk areas of the carpet to protect it. Hiring a cleaning crew every week to come in and steam the carpets would dig even further into her pocketbook. After that, the house was ready for someone else to take care of it.
“Sam should be here.” She hadn’t let herself be sad about missing him – she knew he was trying to protect her dream from Chelsey’s designs. It was a blessing he’d been able to help her this last week as much as he had. But at least she’d see him tomorrow – he’d planned to come to Grammy Jean’s for Christmas. They weren’t going to do anything fancy, and he had to leave her house by four, since he was having Christmas dinner with his family. But it was something.
She stared at the key lying next to her master list. When she locked up for the last time, that key would go back in the lockbox. It felt so final.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and Googled a number she hadn’t dialed in years. It rang and rang, and she was ready to hang up when someone finally answered. “Building Company 101, this is Grady. How can I help you?”
In the whole time she’d been there, she hadn’t seen Grady Jones, the man Chelsey had accused her of having an affair with. “Grady, this is Ashley Rogers.”
“Oh.” He seemed to hold his breath before continuing. “Uh, what can I do for you?”
His nervousness made her stomach churn. “I was just wondering if Sam was there right now, or if he’d stopped by today.”
“Nah, haven’t seen him. I think he’s still out with the carolers.”
“Okay, that’s what I figured.” Hmmm … maybe if she let Grady know where things stood, he wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. “He and I are just finishing up the house on Snow Lane.”
“Oh, yeah, he mentioned that.” Another pause. You know, um … I’m glad you’re back in town. And I’m even more glad you’re working with Sam again. Seems like every job he does, You Know Who shows up and struts around, waiting for him to notice. She pesters him at church, cons him into doing things he doesn’t want to. Like the caroling. I thought he was going to pass on it this year.”
“Just between you and me, he was going to pass, but … well, I’d rather not get into it.” Let Sam tell him if he wanted – she didn’t want to do anything that even hinted at gossip. “Well, thanks for
letting me know. Merry Christmas, Grady.”
“Merry Christmas, Ashley. Grammy Jean would be looking down, happy to see you in her house and back with Sam.”
Ashley thanked him, even though she wasn’t sure she was back with Sam, or would be. Only time would tell. And it wasn’t Christmas yet.
Sam gulped down the last of his bottle of water as they trudged through the snow. His first had only lasted two houses, and even after a few more his throat felt like he’d swallowed a soldering iron.
Chelsey stepped closer to him with a fake shiver. “I don’t know how you can drink cold water in this weather. It’s so chilly.”
Ugh – he was so done with her little puppy-love games. All week as they’d walked from businesses to houses, she’d chatted, flirted, tried to hold his hand, even kissed his cheek when he wasn’t looking. Everyone else in the choir was tired of her antics except her mother. He was ready to walk out. “Yeah, you’d think it was winter or something.”
“I talked to Daddy about the bed-and-breakfast ordinance yesterday. He thinks it’ll pass 3-2 at next month’s vote. To protect our other businesses, of course.”
Maggie Crafton, whose sister owned one of the B&Bs, spoke up. “That’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard. That doesn’t protect anyone – it just means we’ll have to repeal it when Martha wants to retire. And the other owners will feel like they can’t sell to anyone else.
“I’m sure an exception could be made to transfer ownership,” Chelsey replied. “We just don’t want anyone coming in here thinking they’ll get rich off tourism. We treat our tourists like gold. They shouldn’t get a substandard experience, should they?”
The more Chelsey spoke, the more the necklace weighed around his neck. He could stand there and do what Chelsey wanted, as he’d done all week to protect Ashley from that vote. But in the end his participation hadn’t changed anything. He’d probably just emboldened Chelsey. “If people want to start a business or sell their property, they should be able to,” he rasped. “If the town council won’t respect the will of the people, we can vote them out and find someone who will.
There was a murmur of agreement among the carolers as they approached the last house of the night. If this place didn’t keep them too long requesting songs and offering good wishes and eggnog, he might even be able to see Ashley. He hadn’t been by in two days.
Chelsey positioned herself next to him as usual and hissed in his ear “You may want to think about what you just said –”
“I have, and I meant it,” he growled. “If the council passes that, I’ll have a lawyer on you and your daddy so fast you’ll barely be able to breathe.” Two could play at blackmail. He didn’t actually know any lawyers, but he could always find one.
Chelsey didn’t have a chance to respond as Max Bernard, the choir director, started them singing, of course, “Winter Wonderland.” Most of the guests watching them at the door that night were the same as those who had been there the night before. They clapped and cheered but mercifully didn’t request more. The evening was chilly, and having the door open was costly.
Afterward, everyone turned to walk back to Main Street. “Wonderful!” Max cheered. “Only one more day of caroling.” There was a ragged cheer from the choristers. Christmas Eve was always the shortest trip, because they only went to the eight Ladies.
Chelsey cleared her throat. “You know, since there’s finally someone living in the Lady on Sleigh Bell again, we should go up there and do one song. For old times’ sake.” She stared right at Sam, challenging him to argue.
But he didn’t need to – the rest of the choir groaned so loudly that Chelsey didn’t have a chance to press it further. “Good night, Miss Miles,” Max said pointedly as the others dispersed.
Chelsey pouted. “Well, I’ve got one more song in me. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“Not a good idea,” Sam warned as he continued toward Main, where his truck waited. Ashley would not be happy if Chelsey stopped by. He’d sacrificed most of his week – and his voice – to protect her, and it looked like it hadn’t done a bit of good. He had a mental picture of Ashley in jail for spray-painting Chelsey, which was a little amusing but hardly ideal. “Good night.” He broke into a weary jog.
Thankfully Chelsey stopped pursuing him for once, allowing him to catch up with Maggie Crafton. “Thanks for coming to my aid there.”
“And thank you for not responding to all that attention you’re getting from Chelsey. It’s inappropriate. She’s old enough to know better. But then, so’s her mother, and look how she acts.” The woman shook her head.
“I’m doing my best. I can’t help but wonder what Chelsey has up her sleeve. Ashley Rogers is back home and living in Jean Kelsey’s old place.”
“Oh, I miss Jean.” Maggie didn’t look up at him, but kept shuffling down the steep incline. “And are you and Ashley back together?”
No one in town seemed to forget anything. “We’re … trying.”
“I’ll pray it works out for you two kids – and that Chelsey keeps her nose out of it.”
“Thank you. I suspect I’ll need all the prayers I can get.” His body felt heavy as he reached his truck, got in and started it up. He wanted to sleep for a week … but he wanted to see Ashley more.
As he approached Grammy Jean’s, he saw another car parked in front of it: Chelsey’s Firebird. He looked closer and saw Chelsey headed for the front door. Oh no … he had to intercept her before she caused more trouble – or Ashley did something she might regret. He parked in a rush, hoping against hope that he could stop the impending disaster.
He got out just as he heard Chelsey bang on the front door. As usual, the only lights on were from the kitchen in the back. With luck, Ashley might not even hear. He ran up as fast as he could. “Chelsey, don’t do this.”
“She doesn’t even have a yard light on.” Chelsey shook her head. “Not very welcoming.”
“Leave her alone. What has she ever done to you?”
Chelsey snorted, her smile evil. “Oh, sweet Sam, it’s not what she’s done to me. It’s what I’m going to do to her.”
Sam was too stunned to answer as the porch light came on and the door opened. Ashley was wearing a fuzzy red vest over one of her thermal shirts and work jeans. She’d probably just gotten home. Her eyes were red and tired. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, I think you know what’s going on.” Chelsey turned to Sam, grabbed him by the ears, yanked him down and kissed him hard, painfully. She held it until the door slammed shut, then let go and laughed. “Good night, loverboy,” she sang, skipped back down the walk, hopped into her car and drove off.
In shock, Sam could only stand there as he heard the clack of the deadbolt. He knew exactly what Ashley was thinking – and it wasn’t good. Or true.
Chapter Sixteen
Ashley locked the back door as well as the front. Not that Sam would try to come in – he wouldn’t create a scene. Chelsey had, but it had been a very instructive one.
To think she’d believed him when he said he wanted nothing to do with Chelsey Miles. He’d sounded so convincing. But then Chelsey kissed him – on Grammy Jean’s doorstep! – and had he fought back? Had he pushed her away? Had he objected one bit? Nope, he’d just stood there while she hung onto him like he was a jungle gym. And actions spoke louder than words.
No wonder he’d given in. It had nothing to do with blackmail. It had everything to do with making out with Chelsey in a winter Wonderland. She’d never known him to lie … but that was seven years ago, and people changed in seven years.
Her eyes burned. Blast him, he’d made her cry, but it was for the last time. She turned off the kitchen light and trudged to the table and sat by her planner, forcing herself to think, not feel.
Someone pounded on her back door. “Ash, open the door, we need to talk,” Sam called.
No. No, she was not doing this again. She’d hurt enough. Tomorrow, she’d finish the cleanup over at Snow Lane. Chris
tmas Day, she’d get up early, get someone to drive her to Rapid City, get a motel room and find a nice Chinese place for Christmas dinner. On the 26th, she’d call Evelyne, tell her to put both houses on the market immediately, priced to sell, and catch the first flight to …
Knock, knock. “That wasn’t what it looked like. Don’t shut me out, please.” Knock, knock, knock.
… oh, yeah. She didn’t have anywhere to go. There was no next house to flip, and no money to get one. Evelyne had bet the farm on Grammy Jean’s place. And for the first time in years, she hadn’t planned for what came next. Well, she had – next was supposed to be “discuss it with Sam after Christmas.” She’d sooner pull her own teeth out with pliers than do that now.
Knock, knock, knock. “Don’t do this again. Don’t run from me.” A loud sigh “Ash?”
She wouldn’t answer that door. Couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t know who started the rumor last time, but she knew Chelsey wanted him for herself. It wasn’t like she’d been subtle about it when she was all over him in front of their reno house. He’d said then that it wasn’t what it seemed, too.
Pound. Pound. “Ash?”
Yet knowing she’d only be there one more week, he’d spent the time with Chelsey, walking around town singing with her. He was so … passive, and Chelsey was so greedy. She always got what she wanted, or her daddy got it for her.
And there was the issue, wrapped up like a Christmas gift. No one could keep Chelsey from what she wanted forever. And she wanted Sam. Ashley had nothing adequate to fight her, and Sam wasn’t fighting at all.
“Ash? Please let me in.” Pound.
Seven years ago, he’d called it off with no explanation. Well, now it was her turn, only he’d provided all the explanation that was needed. Funny that she’d been the one accused of cheating, when in the end it had been him. “Go home, Sam,” she whispered.
After another few minutes of knocking and begging, he did. She heard his truck rumble off, then waited some more before getting up and checking the door.
