“Coffee on the go, it is.” He rummaged in the cabinets for one of the reusable coffee cups he’d spotted the day he’d arrived, then set it beside the coffeemaker before heading in to shower and dress. After dropping Calliope and Stella off at home late yesterday afternoon, he’d headed back out of town to hit up a discount store for some grubbier, more comfortable clothes. Another pair of jeans, some T-shirts. A pullover sweatshirt for the cool evenings. And shoes. He’d been meaning to buy a new pair of work boots, anyway. May as well buy them where they would do some good.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, the ocean cascading beyond the window, the smell of brewing coffee stirring the air, Xander couldn’t shake the image of Calliope standing outside her mother’s room, as if she’d been a pane of shattered glass. She’d clung to him in a way that made him want to never let her go. Her tears had soaked his shirt, the summer flower scent of her hair overtaking his senses as he held on. When she’d lifted her tearstained face, he expected to find irritation there, shame, or maybe even anger at him for having intruded on what had to be an overwhelming emotional time. Instead, she’d lifted a soft hand to caress his cheek and softly whispered, “Thank you.”
She hadn’t spoken much on the drive home, so Xander had chatted with Stella about the new art project she hoped to start this week and all the fun events about to take place in Butterfly Harbor to celebrate the Christmas season.
The season. Christmas. Xander sighed and scrubbed his hands through his damp hair. He hadn’t even started shopping yet and Christmas was only a couple of weeks away. This was one year he wouldn’t be able to fob off his list on his assistant—his former assistant hadn’t come back after maternity leave, and given the state of the company, hiring someone new hadn’t made any sense.
“First things first.” He wouldn’t be doing much of anything else until he got a handle on the sanctuary. It had to be his priority. He packed up his notebook, pens and pencils into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder, grabbed the sweatshirt and his hot cup of coffee and headed out.
He hadn’t thought the little town could get any more quiet, but he’d been wrong. Aside from the occasional seagull squawk and the rumbling wind blowing against his ears, he was utterly and completely alone.
Xander bypassed the lobby and stopped for a moment at the top of the hill to look down on Main Street. The only sign of life came from the diner, where he spotted a dark-haired woman wiping down the glass door and windows. He sipped at his coffee, a slow smile spreading across his mouth as he watched a man emerge from the diner and place a gentle hand on the swell of the woman’s stomach. They kissed and the woman snuggled her head into the crook of the man’s shoulder. He took the opportunity to remove the rag and spray bottle from her hand and gently led her back inside.
Feeling a bit like a voyeur, Xander shook himself free of the touching moment and turned toward the hill leading to Duskywing Farm.
“Whoops! Sorry about that.”
Xander screeched to a halt before the jogger careened into him. “My bad.” Xander held up his hands and circled around the man. “You’re Jason Corwin.”
“Guilty.” Jason grinned, an expression that caught Xander off guard. The celebrity chef was known for his surly, silent demeanor. At least that’s the impression he’d given on TV. “You must be Xander Costas.” He bent over for a moment to catch his breath. “Give me a sec. Whew. Okay. Now I can breathe. If I don’t get this out of the way first thing in the morning, it won’t happen. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry.” Xander actually laughed as he returned the greeting. “I’m a big fan. My whole family, in fact. Because of you, I learned how to cook. Kind of.” Jason’s most recent cookbook had been the best birthday gift for his mother.
Jason’s grin widened. “‘Kind of’ is good. You heading up to the sanctuary site?”
“Calliope suggested it might provide me the inspiration I need. It’s just up that way, right?”
“Yeah. If you give me a few minutes to grab something to eat, I’ll go with you. Late start in the kitchen this morning plus Abby said something about needing to discuss napkin choices for the wedding. Come on.” He motioned for Xander to follow him into the inn.
A few minutes later, Xander found himself in one of the most glorious kitchens he’d ever seen. Pristine stainless-steel appliances, elegant marble countertops—industrial chic meets country practical.
“Wow. This place is amazing.” The whole inn was, actually, and served as a reminder to Xander to take some time to enjoy the details and construction of the renovated historic building before he left. “How does it compare to your restaurant back in New York?”
“It doesn’t.” Jason poured himself some coffee then grabbed a couple of fresh baked muffins off the baking sheet on the counter and handed one to Xander. “This is a million times better. Help yourself. Lemon-blueberry. Abby’s favorite.”
“Abby’s your fiancée, right? She made these?”
Jason cough-choked and shook his head. “Ah, yes, she is my fiancée, but no, she did not bake these muffins.” He chuckled and glanced up at the smoke detector as if it held fond memories. “I baked them before my run. Haven’t seen you at the restaurant since you arrived.”
“Mmm.” Xander could hear his wallet whine at the very thought. “Been busy.” He bit into the muffin and sighed. “Man, I’ve missed your restaurant. When I’m in New York I always take clients there. I closed many a deal over your braised osso buco and goat-cheese risotto.” If only deals were that simple now.
“Marcus is doing a good job with it. Let me know next time you’ve got a meeting. Happy to hook you up with the chef’s table. On the house.”
“That invitation on its own would get me the client.” As if he had anyone banging that hard on the door these days. “I’ll keep it in mind, thanks. You mind if I pick your brain about Butterfly Harbor while we walk?”
“Nope.” Jason grabbed his coffee and muffins and the two of them headed out the back door. “But only if you tell me what a big-shot architect is doing designing a butterfly sanctuary.”
Desperation. “Branching out.”
Jason ducked his chin but not before Xander caught the smirk of disbelief.
“Not buying it?”
Jason shook his head. “Not even close. Like recognizes like. You’re here searching for something. A new start maybe? I’ve worked in Chicago, remember. I keep up on the news. I’m sorry about what happened with that apartment building. Really tough break.”
“Tougher on the two construction workers who died.” Xander still felt sick when he thought about the two young men with families whose lives were cut short because of the mistakes that had been made. “The lawsuit settlement nearly wiped us out. We’ve made a lot of changes. Something like that won’t ever happen again from us. but we’ve had to start from scratch. Take on smaller jobs.”
“Less important ones?”
There wasn’t any malice in Jason’s voice, nor did Xander pick up any disapproval. But there was a hint of...understanding?
“In my experience, there’s no place better to heal than Butterfly Harbor.” Jason turned to walk backward as they moved away from the main drag. “When I came here, I was in a bad place. I made some unfortunate decisions after my brother died. Ones that could have cost me everything I’d ever worked for. Who knew I’d end up finding the perfect place to start over?”
“Didn’t hurt that you fell in love, I’m betting.”
“It did not.” Jason chuckled and once again, Xander noticed how carefree he seemed. The brooding intensity, the attitude and ego that had made him a five-star celebrity chef had been tempered. “Even if I never cooked another meal, I’d still have Abby. Don’t tell her that.” He grinned. “My cooking is part of the reason she’s marrying me.”
“That would be the Christmas wedding I’ve
been hearing about.”
“Oh, yeah. Gonna be some event. You’re welcome to come if you’re in town.”
“Appreciate that, but I should be home by then. Christmas is a pretty big deal with my family.” Especially this year. There was no telling how many more holidays they’d have with their father, as he was still in a wheelchair due to his massive stroke. “If I can get a handle on this sanctuary design. I thought we were onto something until I showed the plans to the mayor and Calliope.”
“Well, Gil I can understand having issues with it, but Calliope?” Jason’s eyebrows arched so high they disappeared under his hair. “Didn’t think she was capable of contrary thoughts or comments.”
Contrary. What an understatement. Now it was Xander’s turn to laugh. “I must bring it out in her then. She wasn’t a fan. Which is why I need to see the place firsthand, apparently. Get a feel for it.”
“Sounds like good advice. And honestly? If there’s one person in town you should always listen to, it’s Calliope Jones. She has this...way about her. You know?”
“Oh, I know.” And he was knowing more by the day. “Why else would I be out here at six in the morning on a Sunday? Give me four words to describe Butterfly Harbor.”
“Four words?” Jason took a deep breath. “Huh. Okay. Dedicated. Welcoming. Prospering.”
“That’s three.”
“The last one’s easy.” Jason popped the last bit of muffin into his mouth. “Home.”
* * *
“GOOD MORNING, CALLIOPE!”
Calliope barely heard Paige’s cheerful greeting above the buzzing in her ears. Buzzing that had nothing to do with her bees going about their business in the field or the faintest hint of an early morning tide echoing in the distance. Disturbing dreams had left her restless, tossing and turning throughout the night, while Stella, thankfully, had dropped off peacefully. She’d sidelined her morning routine for the ritual her grandmother had taught her when she had first learned to write.
Which was why at four in the morning, she’d brewed a pot of chamomile tea and written down the dreams, in as much detail as she could remember. Once those were complete, it was as if a weight was lifted. Every doubt, every worry and concern, her thoughts, resolutions and decisions that she’d made about Emmaline. Her dismay and sadness were sidelined. But there was more to do in order for her to move on and take that next step in her life. One final step.
“Good morning, Paige, Charlie. And Abby.” Hmm. It wasn’t often this threesome came to the farm together. Given the innocent expressions plastered on their faces, she knew they were here for a particular reason. As Sundays were Calliope’s one day to herself, to recharge and refocus, she didn’t open the farm to the public. But her friends were welcome anytime, any day, whatever their motives. And if she happened to put them to work, no one would hold it against her. Seeing Abby, Paige and Charlie’s smiling faces shining in the sunlight reinflated her punctured heart.
“Are we, um, disturbing you?” Abby rocked back and forth in her pink ballet slipper flats. The matching pedal pushers and sweater made her look like a bobby-soxer in search of a carhop.
Calliope lifted her face to the still cool morning sky. No doubt the crumpled pieces of paper and smoldering sage bundle were something of a mystery to them.
“Not at all.” She pressed the dried herbs against the edge of the papers and waited for the flame to catch. “Just ridding myself of some difficult memories.” She loved the sound of the crackling flame as it caught, almost as much as she adored inhaling the cleansing smoke tendrils wafting up and around as her fingers warmed. She held on to the notes she’d made as long as she could and when she let go, her fears, worries and negativity turned to ashes in the wind.
Feeling refreshed, she turned in a slow circle, her bare feet sinking into the ankle-deep grass with comfort and waved the sage in a cleansing pattern before setting it to finish burning in a ceramic bowl on one of the outside tables. “If you’re looking for Jason, Abby, I saw him heading up to the sanctuary site with Xander a while ago.”
“Did you?” Abby blinked and then sighed. “He’s probably avoiding me because we have to choose wedding napkins today. Did you know that was even a thing?”
“I did not.” Calliope laughed.
“One of the many reasons Fletcher and I eloped to Tahoe,” Paige told them.
“Is Stella up?” Charlie wrapped Tabitha’s pink leash around her hand and gave a gentle tug as the dog took an interest in Calliope’s cat.
“I believe she is. And if she isn’t, she should be.” Even though Calliope hadn’t the heart to wake her sister. “Why don’t you go see?”
“Great. Thanks.”
“There’s fresh baked bread on the table. And homemade jam.” Calliope turned back to Paige in time to see Abby nudge her with her elbow. Yes. Her friends were definitely up to something. “Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but we already ate at the diner,” Paige told her. “Lots of errands to run before tonight. You know about this last-minute get-together at Holly’s this afternoon?”
“I heard about it.” Calliope had listened to Holly’s voicemail three times before she’d gone to bed last night, needing to hear the unrepressed happiness in the mother-to-be’s voice. “Four o’clock, I believe? Potluck?” Which reminded her, she needed to cook her famous roasted vegetable salad.
“Uh-huh.” Abby narrowed her eyes. “Don’t suppose you know what it’s all about, do you? They’re being awfully secretive. And Holly stopped returning our calls.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.” Calliope avoided Abby’s questioning gaze.
“You do know! I knew it!” Abby stomped her foot in much the way Stella did whenever she got frustrated. “And there’s no prying it out of you, I suppose.”
“I’m afraid not. But since you’re here, would you mind helping me get tomorrow’s orders together?”
“You’re changing the subject and distracting us. Wait.” Abby grabbed her arm as she passed. “Just tell us this. Is it good news?”
There was no mistaking the concern coursing through Abby’s body, the tension in her muscles, the frown on her face. The same frown that marred Paige’s. “It is wonderful news. Holly is fine, Abby. And so is her child. Neither of you have anything to worry about.” On that front, at least. Calliope felt her own lips curve down as she caught sight of gray clouds shifting heavily over the inn. Trouble was on the horizon. No. Not trouble. Heartache. And sorrow.
But for whom? She smoothed her hands down her sides, trying to wipe away the tingling uncertainty.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Abby’s eyes glistened with sudden tears and she sagged like a doll. She patted a hand against her heart as she released her hold on Calliope. “I mean, of course Holly’s fine. She wouldn’t have a party otherwise, right?”
“I wouldn’t think so, no.” Happily, Calliope had the perfect gift in mind for the semi-new parents. And Simon, the big brother to be, would not be left out. “And it isn’t you I was trying to distract, but myself. I could use the company.” She ducked into the house for her lists, took an extra beat to enjoy the giggles and squeals mingling with a dog’s barking that were coming from down the hall. She tapped two fingers against her heart and glanced up. “Friendship and kindness heal all wounds.”
When she returned she found Abby and Paige setting up a line of gathering baskets on the ground. Calliope dropped her order forms into one of the baskets. Within minutes they’d gotten into a productive rhythm, chatting and humming as they pulled vegetables and fruit from the ground and set them gently into the receptacles. Calliope marveled at the differences in the women. Paige dived right in, sinking into the earth with all the gusto and determination her personality dictated, while Abby was a bit more delicate, and obviously more averse to getting dirty.
“So, about Xander.” Abby cleared her throat. “Did I see you
driving out of town with him yesterday afternoon?”
“You did.” Calliope’s hand tightened around a stalk of kale. “Stella and I needed to visit our mother, but my car wouldn’t start.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Paige dumped a glistening white cauliflower into one of her baskets and brushed her hands off on her jeans. “So, um, Xander just happened to be around, huh?”
Calliope chuckled at Abby’s grin. These two were as far from subtle as two people could get. “Yes, he was. And he was kind enough to drive us. He volunteered to help. That’s all.” And ended up with Calliope sobbing all over him. Poor man. She owed him a basket of scones for having to put up with her emotional outpouring.
“Oh, sure. I bet he was.” Paige hefted two baskets into her arms and strolled past Abby. “And those pink cheeks of yours are because of the sun and not because we mentioned his name?” She blinked innocently as Calliope’s dirt-covered hand flew to her face.
“Uh-huh.” Abby clicked her tongue. “Thought so. I knew there was a reason for all that hostility at the diner. You like him.”
“What’s not to like? You’ve seen him,” Paige said.
“From a distance.” Abby actually pouted. “But I have heard tell. So what’s the deal?”
“No deal. He’s a nice man.” Calliope tried to cover her reaction by brushing her nose. “And he’s here to do a job. There’s nothing else to talk about.”
“Oh, come on.” Paige ditched the baskets by the front door and picked up the last two, one of which she shoved at a protesting Abby. “Holly’s got her head in baby world and Lori’s pining over Matt and Kyle being away. Give me something to obsess over.”
“Newlywed fever,” Abby joked. “You had it, too.”
“Careful, it’s contagious,” Paige warned her. “You’ll be catching it around Christmas Eve.”
Calliope let them continue with their banter. She’d always been a solitary creature by nature, content with her own company and whoever or whatever chose to visit her garden and property. Especially the butterflies. They were so...uncomplicated. No ulterior motives, no desires other than to survive. And they gave their beauty and serenity over without a second thought.
Holiday Kisses Page 10
