by Ginny Baird
“You did stay for longer,” she told him. “Probably forty-five minutes.”
“How do you know I wouldn’t have stayed an hour?”
Her jaw dropped. “Would you really? If I hadn’t gotten that call from your mom?”
He shrugged and glanced at her playfully. “Guess you’ll never know.”
She nudged him as they sat on the bench, and he liked it when her warmth brushed his shoulder. “You really are a big tease.”
“No. I’m totally serious.”
Mary giggled. “See. That’s just what I mean.” She crossed one of her legs over the other and tugged on her left boot. She was wearing that impractical pair with the super high heels. Evan was surprised she hadn’t fallen and hurt herself, but he was glad she’d hadn’t. “Argh. These things go on so easily, but they’re murder to get off.”
“Would you like my help?” In the time she’d been wrestling with that single piece of footwear, Evan had already put on both his skates and laced them up.
She glanced at him uncertainly and he dropped down off the bench, crouching in front of her. “Come on,” he said, extending his hands. “Give me your foot.”
She complied and her color deepened. “This is a little embarrassing.”
He settled his grip along her calf with one hand and cupped the heel of her boot with the other. In one sharp tug he had it off. “Nope. What would have been embarrassing is if a big strong dude like me couldn’t have gotten it off.”
Her dark eyes shone. “Thank you.”
He passed her the boot, then held out his hands again and removed her second boot.
His eyebrows rose. “Do you need me to lace up your skates?”
“No, thanks.” She sassily swished her hair. “I think I can handle that part.”
After she did, Evan took their regular boots and stashed them in a locker by the rental desk. “Okay,” he said striding back over to her. “Ready to rock and roll?”
She tried to stand up from the bench, but her skates got away from her, scooting toward the rink first. “Ahh!” She grabbed onto the back of the bench to steady herself, her knees wobbly.
“Easy does it, there.” He stomped through the snow, angling his blades in a way so he wouldn’t slide, and supported her under her elbow.
“It’s slippery!”
He winked. “Going to be even more slippery on the ice.”
“Oh.” She looked like she was having doubts, but he encouraged her with a grin.
“Just hang onto me and we’ll go slow. You’ll do fine.”
She nodded and they moved at a snail’s pace toward the rink gate. At this speed they’d use up their entire hour just getting there. But Evan honestly didn’t mind. He liked having Mary on his arm. Even if she was clinging to him for dear life.
“Oh, oohhh!” she shouted, as each of her skates started traveling in a different direction.
“Here, I have an idea,” he said. Then he stepped out in front of her.
“Wait! Don’t leave!”
He had no intention of doing that. He still held onto one of her hands. Evan reached the rink entrance, then backed onto the ice, spinning to face Mary. He took her second hand and now held both her hands in his. He stared at her reassuringly. “Better?”
She nodded, because she could look in his eyes, and seemed to find that reassuring.
“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll do it this way.”
He started to move in a practiced glide, using his skates to propel him backward while he guided her along, peering periodically over his shoulder to ensure the coast was clear. There were a few other people on the ice, but not a ton, since it was Monday. They’d picked a good night to come.
“Wait! You’re going backwards?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” Though Evan hadn’t ice skated in years, it was kind of like riding a bike, in that everything came back to him. Including, fortunately, his balance. Mary seemed to better maintain hers with their hands linked and by continually moving forward.
“I’m doing it,” she cried with amazement. “I’m really skating!” She was radiant with happiness and surprise.
“Yes, you are.” They approached their first turn and he took it slowly, bringing her along as she swung out wide at the curve.
“Wheee! Oh Evan, this is crazy.”
He grinned at her sweetness. “Crazy good, right?”
“Crazy great,” she said, laughing when they rounded the second turn. He increased their speed, moving them faster, but still keeping their movements steady. A couple of kids passed them, racing after each other.
“I’m going to get you, goober!”
“No, you, fool!”
Mary laughed at their playful banter. “Kids!” She rolled her eyes, and Evan’s heart thudded. Kids, he thought, and suddenly he could imagine having them with Mary.
Without meaning to, he slowed his pace, but she kept coming on the fast trajectory he’d caused her to take. “Whoa! Evan!” He released her hands and held out his arms, catching her as she slammed into him—hard. “Oh no!” she fretted, gazing up at him. Then she dropped his hold, nearly slipping through his grasp. Evan caught her, shoring her up.
“Mary!” He scanned her eyes. “Are you all right?”
She placed her palms on his cheeks, her breath ragged. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
But Evan wasn’t all right. He knew he’d never be all right unless he kissed her. His heart pounded harder, and all he could think of was bringing his mouth to hers. She was so kind and wonderful. Amazingly talented, and always gave everything her best. He felt the tug of a tide in her eyes that he couldn’t resist. She tilted up her chin, tiny puffs of air escaping her kissable lips and warming the chilly space between them. Which grew smaller, and smaller…Mary’s lips parted. She wanted this too.
“Look out! Coming through!” a shrill voice called. Evan spied a woman, who appeared to be in her seventies, barreling straight for them on the ice.
“Geraldine!” an older man shouted. “Stop! Come back here!” He tottered along on his skates, not as much skating as ice-walking, while swaying precipitously.
“I can’t, Gerald! I can’t!” She held up her arms, waving them and shouting, “Geronimo!”
Evan had to intervene or the older woman was going to seriously hurt herself. Mary was nervous on skates, but decently fit. Plus, she was practiced at something that would help her. Evan had a split-second to think all this through, but he was used to analyzing emergency situations and making fast decisions.
He steadied Mary’s shoulders in his hands until he was certain she had her balance. “Remember that yoga thing you do?”
She stared up at him, terrified.
“Find your center,” he instructed huskily. “Don’t move.”
He let her go and reached out his arm, nabbing the freaked-out Geraldine by her coat sleeve as she zoomed by. “Ack!” She shouted in surprise and nearly fell, but Evan pivoted quickly, catching her beneath her elbows. She stood there panting, wild-eyed, while plodding Gerald worked to arrive by her side.
“Dear,” he said. “I think it’s time we call it a day.”
Geraldine blinked at Evan in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Evan nodded, returning his attention to Mary, who stood in the middle of the rink in mountain pose, her palms pressed together at heart-level and her eyes closed. She’d evidently found her center and was staying completely still. She had her palms pressed together in front of her at heart level, and lowered them slowly as he skated back over to her. “Oh, Evan. Wow. You’re a hero.” She sounded a little breathy.
“Don’t know about that,” he joked. He peered into her eyes. “You okay?”
“I know those two,” she said, as Geraldine and Gerald carefully exited through the gate. “They’re staying at the Clark Creek B&B.” She gazed at him, wide-eyed. “Fiftieth anniversary! Can you imagine that?”
“Fiftieth? Huh.” He smiled down at her, surprised to find himself able to imagine fifty years
of wedded bliss very well. “How about that?”
“Evan?” she asked him. “How did you know about yoga and finding my center?”
He was amused by the question in her eyes. “I saw something about it in a movie.”
“I see.”
“You’re apparently very good at it.” He pressed his palms together and shot her a teasing grin. “Namaste.”
Her dimples deepened when she bowed her head and answered him. “Namaste.”
Evan brought Mary a cup of hot chocolate from the stand near the rink. He’d offered to get them some and she’d thanked him, not trusting her sore legs to hold her steady at the moment. She’d had her knees locked so tight on the ice for fear of falling down that her joints actually ached. And still, she’d had the best time. Evan had been so tender and caring, trying to make sure she was okay every step of the way.
When she’d slipped and he’d held her in his arms, she could have sworn for a moment that they were going to share a kiss. She would have welcomed one, too. Even if that did mean getting more deeply involved with Evan. At this point, it was hard for her not to want to be. She pushed thoughts of Seattle aside, wondering if a promotion could still happen. It probably wouldn’t if she couldn’t recoup that huge expenditure on the T-shirts. Worst case scenario, she’d be out of a job.
“Here you are,” he said, handing her a cup and sitting beside her. “So, what did you think of your first time ice skating?”
She laughed, relieved to have something to focus on other than her messed-up handling of the parade. “I’m not sure we should call it skating. It was more like you were skating and I was just tagging along.”
“I didn’t mind you tagging along.” His eyes twinkled and her heart warmed. It felt so good making him happy, and when he looked at her that way, she could tell he was.
She sipped from her cup. The hot chocolate was delicious. “Nice save with Geraldine.”
“Poor woman. I don’t think she knew what she was getting into.”
“I give her an A plus for her sense of adventure, though,” Mary said. “She and her husband are very good sports to still be trying new things after fifty years of marriage.”
“How do you know it was a new thing?”
“Educated observation.”
He chuckled and she loved the warm rumbling sound it made. “Maybe you should have been a schoolteacher.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You talk like one. Giving people grades. Being educational.”
She elbowed him. “I said educated.”
He wryly twisted his lips. “You also enjoy correcting people.”
“Yeah. Well. I’m not the only one.” Her eyebrows rose until that sank in.
Evan belly laughed. “Touché.”
Mary grinning and sipped from her hot chocolate, thinking this was so much better than sitting back in her room and dwelling on her mistake. She’d find a way to work that out, surely. Wasn’t that what she was? A problem solver? Just look at all the problems she’d solved relating to the parade already. She drew in a deep breath of the refreshing evening air, feeling better. Being around Evan always made her feel better. His presence was calming somehow. Like how he’d been able to reassure her when she’d been petrified on the ice.
“I can’t believe you haven’t ice skated since you were a kid,” she told him. “You’re very good at it. All those jazzy moves.”
He leaned back against the bench and draped his arm over the back of it, so his arm rested behind her. The gesture felt protective and caring, even if he’d done it subconsciously.
“Jazzy moves, ah yes,” he said, staring up into the night sky. The snow had stopped for a bit, but it still blanketed just about everything in the town square, making the scenery so pretty. “I’m really good at those.”
The fingers of his right glove lightly strummed her shoulder. Her heart pitter-pattered when she realized she wished his arm would drop lower and that he’d wrap it around her. “Nice out here,” he said.
“Yeah.” She instinctively scooted toward him, drawn to his warmth in the freezing cold.
He apparently took that as a cue to lower his arm around her shoulders, hugging her gently with one arm. Mary sighed happily, feeling so connected to Evan. Being with him just felt right.
“What kinds of things did you do as a kid?” he asked her.
“I used my imagination a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how kids have tea parties?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I did a lot of that. But instead of tea parties, we had executive lunches.”
“Executive—wow. Impressive.”
She giggled. “I always had a briefcase.”
“Where did you get that?”
“From the lost and found. Charlie, you remember I told you about him?”
“The older doorman, right.”
“He used to take me to the lost and found and let me pick out gifts. This was only after the requisite period when nobody had claimed things.”
“Somebody lost a briefcase?”
She nodded. “A brand-new one. They found it in the elevator. It was empty with a price tag attached.”
“I see. So, you held executive lunches.” He wrinkled his brow, apparently trying to picture this. “How old were you then?”
“Nine or ten. My stuffed animals were my board of directors.”
He laughed. “Did they have briefcases, too?”
“No. Only agendas.”
He smiled like he was charmed by her. “Where did you get the idea? I thought your mom was a chef?”
“Not from her,” Mary said. “From other people I saw coming and going from the hotel. Their lives looked so glamorous. I decided one day I’d like to have that kind of life too.”
“In business?”
“Yes. That’s what I studied in school and how I met Judy.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Well I think you make a really great businessperson, even without the briefcase.”
Would he think that if he knew about the ordering mistake? Putting it out of her head, she changed the subject. “What about you? Growing up?”
“Oh, the usual. Baseball with my brothers and kick the can. We played a lot outdoors. There was work to do on our parents’ farm too. Daily chores.”
“What were yours?”
“Feeding the chickens and goats.”
“You had chickens and goats?” she asked, amazed.
“My parents still do.”
“But you never wanted animals?”
“I live within the city limits, so farm animals aren’t allowed.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind getting a dog one day.”
“What kind?”
“Dunno.”
“What about a rescue?” She grinned up at him. “There will be lots of those in the parade.”
He shook his finger at her in a teasing way. “Now, don’t you go convincing me to get a dog on top of everything else. You’ve already convinced me to decorate my house as well as my office, and to help Clark Creek host a humongous parade.”
She snuggled up against him. “I can be very convincing then, huh?”
He stared down into her eyes and affection was written in his. “Yes. You can.”
“Is Clark Creek named after your family?”
“It is. My great-great-great-Grandpa discovered the body of water during one of his hiking and camping expeditions when he was mapping out this section of the mountains.”
“So, he was an explorer, then?”
“Not by trade, by passion. He sold crop insurance for his day job.”
“How fascinating.” She thought on this, remembering another question she had. “Your roots here are so deep. What made you ever want to leave this town?”
He shifted his position, removing his arm from around her, and Mary worried that she’d inadvertently popped the romantic bubble that had engulfed them.
“I wanted to joi
n the Army,” he said, his voice scratchy. “There was a girl.” Evan cleared his throat. “Young woman, and it looked serious. We thought…No, it was more like I thought enlisting was a good way to guarantee a stable career. Benefits. All those things that matter when you’re considering a family.”
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“She wasn’t so thrilled with the necessary separation. During my first deployment, she bolted and married somebody else.”
“Oh, Evan.” Her heart ached for him. “I’m sorry. Did she have the guts to tell you at least?”
“Nope. Let me find out for myself when I returned.”
“That must have been an awful thing to come home to.”
He sighed, viewing the town tree and then the gazebo. “It was right before Christmas.”
Understanding filled her heart and she suddenly knew why Evan had been so prickly about Christmas. He had such painful memories associated with the season, it was no wonder.
“And the crazy thing was?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was going to ask her to marry me. Had a ring picked out and everything.” His shoulders sagged and he hung his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“No, it’s okay.” She touched his arm. “I’m glad that you shared, but not happy about what happened. I’m sure that was devastating.”
“Anyway.” He leaned back against the bench. “I did a few more tours. You know, served my time. But there were things I missed about Clark Creek, and after a while I found myself longing to come home.”
“Was she from here?”
“Initially, but she moved away to get married. Wyoming.”
“Wow. That’s far.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at her in the soft light streaming down from the rink lights, and his profile cut a rugged picture. “How about you? Any long-lost almost-fiancés floating around?”
She laughed sadly. “Not even close.”
“That’s a little surprising.”
“Not to me, it isn’t. I’ve just never been big into commitment.”
“I guess I get why.”
She studied him with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Well, your upbringing was different from a lot of folks. You moved around a lot. Lived in hotels. I can see where that might have felt unsettling.”
