“I haven’t heard you talk about your family before.”
Kate placed the soccer ball she’d selected from the bin onto the strip of paper and held it there to keep it from rolling away. She looked at Deacon thoughtfully. “I’m an only child. To be honest, my parents didn’t really even want any kids. The minute I graduated high school, they sold the house, bought two one-way tickets to Europe, and have been traveling in some form ever since. I think I was the only thing tying them to Sacramento and once that tether was cut, they were finally free.”
“Do you hear from them often?”
“Depends on your definition of often. Every year or so they’ll call to tell me to check in on my Aunt Sarah who lives in San Francisco, or they’ll ask me to mail something for them. But I don’t have a relationship with them, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Deacon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That anyone would willingly choose to cut Kate out of their life was crazy. In fact, he already had an impossible time envisioning his life without her, and he’d only known her a few short days. She’d quickly woven herself into his routine, his thoughts, and if he were to be completely honest, he hoped into his future.
She’d offered a penny for his thoughts earlier, but he feared that revelation just might cost everything.
Kate
Kate wondered if she had possibly shared too much. They’d continued chatting merrily as they wrapped. Deacon had gotten them each a cup of peppermint hot chocolate and when he returned, he confided that he’d lost his father over a decade earlier and how the church community united around him, even after he’d repeatedly pushed them away. That part didn’t surprise her. For some reason, Deacon seemed to have a difficult time letting people in. Letting people help him. Letting them love him.
That last thought made her stiffen. She gulped down a hearty swallow of the warm drink.
The truth was, Deacon really was lovable. Kate could easily see it now. Not that she was falling in love with the man. That was crazy. But she felt the slow softening of her heart and she knew if she were to spend more than just her two weeks here, she’d find herself never wanting to leave Deacon Winters behind.
“I don’t carry any change, but a dollar for your thoughts?”
Kate laughed. “I was just thinking that I’m really enjoying my time here.”
“Yeah, this is one of my favorite holiday events, too. Year after year, I’m still so amazed at the amount of toys our little town is able to collect for charity. It’s heartwarming, to say the least.”
“No. I mean, yes, this is great. I’m sorta terrible at wrapping but—”
Deacon suddenly erupted in a brief fit of laughter. “I’m glad you finally said it and not me. Those wrapping jobs are really something, Kate.”
“It doesn’t help that I picked weird-shaped items. A stuffed unicorn.” She held up the offending toy and waggled it. “A ball. Race car. What was I thinking?”
“There’s a reason all of the toys I selected came in boxes. I’ve learned a thing or two in my time volunteering here.”
“What can I say? I’m always up for a challenge.” Kate pushed the pathetically wrapped items aside and crossed her arms. “But what I was actually thinking was that I’m having such a nice time here…with you.” She looked right into Deacon’s hopeful eyes. “I don’t normally get to spend much time with the people I’m on assignment with outside of filming. Definitely not doing charity work. Or sightseeing. Or going to dinner.”
“Oh.” The steadily growing smile slipped from his face in apparent disappointment. He cleared his throat softly. “I think I get where you’re going with this. I can back off with—”
“No.” The word flew from her mouth. “I want to spend more time with you, Deacon. That’s actually what I’m trying to say.”
Shock, then relief, lifted the corners of Deacon’s mouth again. “You do?”
“I do.” She pulled in a breath. “I’m just going to say it.” She couldn’t believe herself. She felt like a kid admitting a crush. Check yes or no and all of that. Gaining some courage, she pushed her hair back from her face with her palm and blurted, “I like you.”
It was as if even time itself froze, shocked into stillness by her announcement. The Christmas songs switched from one to the other, but the pause between carols was drawn out and noticeable, unlike all the other smooth transitions. There was a muted lull about the room as if every other conversation had wrapped up right before her declaration. Even her heart felt like it hung on a beat.
It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds but it felt like thousands, each passing one adding to her growing insecurity.
Deacon suddenly reached over and smothered her hand in his. “I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one. I like you, too, Kate.”
Deck the Halls picked up, its cheery staccato notes like a rallying cue. Chairs scraped as people moved about the room. Laughter pulsed around them again. And Kate’s heart continued beating in a familiar rhythm once more.
“You do?” she asked. “I was beginning to worry I might’ve overshared.”
“Not at all. In fact, I’d love for you to share more. I want to get to know you, Kate. It’s the whole reason I asked you to come here with me tonight.”
“You know, I sort of thought maybe your mom was making you take me out. I mean, let’s be real, I think it’s pretty obvious she had some ulterior motives in hiring me.”
“My mother has been trying to set me up for years now. I wouldn’t put it past her,” he admitted. “But no. I asked you here because I wanted you here.” He glanced around the church at the now thinning crowd as volunteers wrapped up their packages along with their night. He directed his gaze back to Kate. “I know we’re just about done here, but I’m not done with this.” He waved his hand between them. “Are you up for one more surprise?”
Deacon’s home was exactly how Kate had envisioned it. Minimal décor, but the few accents he did have strategically placed about the cottage were woodsy and masculine. A rack of magnificent deer antlers loomed large over a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. A leather reading chair angled out toward big picture windows that framed in the property and without even reclining in it, Kate knew it was the best seat in the house. There was a small galley kitchen and a dining table with just two chairs.
And there was a dog.
Deacon seemed like the type of man who would own one. After all, he already had a few horses. Kate even saw a couple barn cats scurrying about the farm the other afternoon. Deacon appeared to be an animal lover. A dog fit into the mix perfectly.
But this dog was not man’s best friend. Not Deacon’s, at least.
“Rascal!” His gruff voice rumbled the minute the key turned over in the lock of the front door. “Dog! What have you done?”
Before she could even see the damage, the black Labrador had his tail tucked between his legs, slinking by them to retreat down the hall as though they might not notice the hundred-pound animal moving in their periphery.
“Rascal!”
When they rounded the corner, Rascal’s guilt came into clear view. Sheets of gingerbread that had been resting on cooling racks were tossed about and crumbled with large, teeth-marked bites taken right out of the edges. Paw prints made of white icing marked the floor. Gumdrops and sprinkles and hard candies arrayed the kitchen like a sugary snowstorm had just blown through.
“That dog!” Deacon ground out through clenched teeth. He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair and then let out a massive sigh. “Well, this was the surprise.”
“That you have a dog?” Kate teased, if only in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.
“I’m not sure why I thought Rascal could be trusted,” Deacon scolded himself as he surveyed the disaster around them. “I knew I should’ve put him outside but it was just too cold tonight.”
“I, for one, couldn’t be trusted to be left alone with all that gingerbread goodness. It smells amazing in here, Deacon.”
Kate moved to the counter to begin wiping up Rascal’s mess with a towel she found hooked on the refrigerator handle. “You made all of this? I’m really impressed, Deacon. Most people just buy the prepackaged kits.”
“I just followed a recipe I found online.”
“Still, that’s more than I can do.”
Deacon grabbed a broom stowed between the refrigerator and the wall and began sweeping up the candies. Round little balls rolled across the floor, skittering like marbles on the smooth surface. “I bet you could follow a recipe.”
“You haven’t seen me in the kitchen.”
“That’s not entirely true. I watched your pizzeria episode.”
Kate felt heat collect on her cheeks. “I actually burned the first four pizzas I made before I finally created one that was halfway edible. The perks of good editing.”
Deacon chuckled. “Gotcha. Well, what do you think? Should we scrap it all and try again?”
“I’m not one to ever turn down anything that involves this much candy. I say we go for it.”
The two quickly tidied up Rascal’s disaster, all while the dog looked on from his bed, his shame-filled eyes never meeting theirs in the way dog’s inadvertently admitted to their guilt.
At a quarter to nine, they had a brand new set of gingerbread house materials, from freshly baked walls to icing in piping bags to little bowls of candies, sorted and ready for ornamentation.
Deacon had turned the radio on and a steady stream of holiday carols created a festive soundtrack for their night. His recently made fire sizzled and crackled in the hearth. Every aspect of Deacon’s home embodied the terms warm and cozy, so the sudden flash of homesickness that swept through Kate’s stomach took her by surprise. But it wasn’t her home she longed for. No, the quick sensation that nearly had her wincing was the thought of leaving this place. Just this one evening shared with Deacon had her thinking that every future holiday spent in her lonely, sterile studio apartment would never quite measure up. For Kate, Christmas had always been a one-day thing, but here with Deacon, she felt the fullness of the season.
“Hold that side for me?” Deacon nudged his chin toward a slab of gingerbread between them. “I’m going to glue this wall on real quick.”
He was great at construction. Their little cookie cottage went up quickly with Deacon as the foreman. Kate followed direction well, but when it was time to turn their house into a holiday masterpiece, she took the helm. Gumdrops became tiny shrubs that lined the walkway. Chocolate squares were now windows, piped white frosting the panes. Every piece of candy took on a new purpose until the little brown house was covered in so much sugary color that it could’ve been the residence of the Sugar Plum Fairy herself.
“I think we’ve run out of room,” Deacon noted, squinting at their project as he searched for an empty spot for the round peppermint in his hand. “We’ve managed to cover every square inch of this thing.”
Kate swiped the candy from his fingers and applied a dollop of icing to the back of it before pressing it to the front door. “Almost forgot the wreath.”
“Good call.” His hands hooked on the ledge of the dining table as he pushed his chair back to stand. “I’m going to get another cup of cocoa. Can I refill yours?”
“Yes, please.” Kate passed off her mug. “I’d love that.”
While Deacon busied himself in the kitchen with their drinks, Kate regarded him from her seat at the table. She’d been determined to peel back his many layers. It hadn’t been as big a challenge as she had first thought. Deacon was guarded—that hadn’t changed—but she could sense a slow and steady opening up and she knew if that trust continued to grow between them, there would be no telling just how close he’d let her get. She found herself wanting that more than anything. More than accolades from her boss. More than a pay raise or any sort of prestige at the station.
More than all of that, she wanted to get to know Deacon Winters. Really know him.
“Look what I found.” Deacon returned with the hot chocolates, two mugs balanced carefully in one large hand. In the other, he held more gingerbread. “Almost forgot. Our finishing touches.”
“Gingerbread men?” Kate took the mug and blew across the top of it, watching the steam dance in curling tendrils that snaked skyward.
“Yep. I made them earlier. They were just about the only thing Rascal didn’t destroy.” He lowered the cookies onto the table. “Care to decorate them with me?”
“I’d love to.” Kate took a swallow of her drink before she picked up a piping bag and one of the cookies. “I’m going to make one of you. You make mine.”
“Why do I feel like you’re setting a trap for me?”
“Not a trap. Just a little fun.”
Deacon snorted. “If you say so.”
Kate found a jumbo marshmallow and smashed it on the top of the gingerbread man’s head to make a version of a cowboy hat. She piped alternating colored lines for a plaid flannel shirt and used the rest of the blue frosting for his jeans. Licorice strips were cut into boots and chocolate dots became eyes. It certainly wasn’t a dead ringer for Deacon, but it included all of his trademark looks and in truth, it wasn’t a total failure.
“All done!” She proudly thrust the cookie into the air to show off her handiwork.
Deacon settled his yellow piping bag down and looked at Kate. “Me too.”
“What do you think?” She held the gingerbread man up closer for Deacon to inspect. “It’s not perfect, but I think it kind of resembles you.”
“I see what you did there with the cowboy hat,” he said, nodding slowly. “And the boots. I like those. Nice work.”
“What’s going on here?” Kate waved her palm over the entire cookie in Deacon’s.
“I accidentally broke your hand off when I was trying to make a little microphone for it.” He held up the missing piece in question. “I tried to glue it back on, but it won’t stay.”
“I think we can fix that.” Kate reached for both cookies, placed them onto the parchment in front of her, and layered a generous spread of icing on their feet. Then she planted them both in the front yard of their gingerbread creation, overlapping Kate’s cookie character with Deacon’s so her missing hand was covered up by his. “See? You don’t even notice it now.”
Something shot across Deacon’s eyes. “Are our gingerbread cookies holding hands?”
“Well, mine doesn’t really have one to hold, but yeah, I suppose they sort of are.”
“Would that be okay?”
“I mean, sure. Why not?” Kate’s brows pulled together as she studied Deacon’s puzzled expression. “I don’t think there are any rules when it comes to cookies holding hands.”
“What about us? What are the rules there?” He hesitated with his words. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is, would it be okay with you if I were to hold your hand sometime?”
“Oh.” She paused, surprised a little by the boldness in his question. “Yeah. Sure. I think it would be just fine,” she finally answered with a confident smile. It almost shocked her just how okay that would be.
“Noted,” was all Deacon said in reply before he stood from the table to begin cleaning up.
What Kate noted, however, was how her breath quickened at the thought of Deacon’s large hand wrapped around hers. She could feel her cheeks pink and her palms begin to sweat. Deacon Winters was doing something to her alright, but where she felt it most was deep within her heart.
Deacon
It was just after ten. Not that Deacon had plans to sleep. He knew if he were to retire for the night now, he’d still spend several hours tossing and turning before his brain and body gave in to slumber. That was his usual routine and he assumed tonight would be no different.
But he’d noticed Kate’s repetitive yawns, how they strung
closer together as the night wore on. Sure, Deacon was still wide awake, but poor Kate appeared exhausted and her tired eyes all but begged to shut with each blink.
When they’d finished decorating their gingerbread house and everything had been put away, wiped down, and organized in the kitchen, he reluctantly suggested they call it a night.
“Can I walk you back?” Deacon asked when they were in the foyer. He held her coat open for Kate to slide into just like he had earlier in the evening.
“Absolutely. Please do.” She began fitting the buttons on her jacket into their holes. “I know the barn loft is just a short walk down the hill from here, but knowing me, I’d get all turned around out there in the dark. Probably have to send out a search party and that’s not something my coworkers at the station would ever let me live down. Believe it or not, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You might be surprised how much the moon reflects off the snow. It actually lights up the whole forest. Come over here and look.” Opening the front door, Deacon stepped onto the stoop. A brief evening storm had rolled through right after they’d returned from the church, leaving just enough snow in its wake to blanket the ground in a coating of puffy white. It had been beautiful to watch the flurries drift toward earth while they were tucked safely away in the warm comfort of Deacon’s house. It was even more spectacular now to step out into the wintery aftermath.
“Wow.” Kate’s lips parted. “This is breathtaking.”
“It is,” Deacon agreed, but his eyes were fixed solidly on Kate and not the scene around them. Sure, he’d been with her all evening and while she always looked lovely, out here with the radiant moon highlighting the feminine slope of her cheekbones, its brilliance reflecting in her crystal blue eyes, he wasn’t sure he’d ever witnessed such beauty in his life. It was enough to leave him speechless.
Kate turned her head and caught his spellbound gaze. “Everything okay?”
Christmas at Yuletide Farm: A Small-Town Christmas Romance Novel Page 10
