by Ciara Knight
Homecoming for Christmas
Ciara Knight
Homecoming for Christmas
Book I
Copyright ©2018 by Ciara Knight
Cover Design by Elaina Lee
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Also by Ciara Knight
Prologue
I’d never seen so much snow in my twelve years. The wind blustered, spinning snow like white fairy dust outside the old church turned Christmas Mountain Community Center. Who knew Montana could look so magical.
I peered from behind the back curtain into the audience, but there was no sign of any of them. Not my mother or father or sisters or brothers. Mom said there were just too many activities this time of year to make everyone’s. As usual, I’d drawn the short candy cane.
Emma, my best friend, leaned into me, her ice blue eyes flashing with the promise of never letting me down. “Ash, I’m sure they’re coming.”
“Who?”
“Your family,” Emma said with a big-sister tone. One my own sister had never mastered.
I shrugged their dismissal off. “Don’t care.”
For a second, I did care, but then I glanced at the six other girls who had become fast friends since I moved here at the start of this year. Friends that came through when I needed them most. Sixth grade was tough enough but going friendship solo would have been the worst.
The Sugar Plum Fairy with the toy soldiers on stage ended so I sucked in a long breath for courage. I hadn’t realized how many people would be watching us perform at the extravaganza.
Ms. King, our choir teacher and second mom to us girls, signaled for our song. We sashayed out in our red and white costumes and Santa hats. Each of us took our spots.
Joy wrung her hands over and over on her way to the piano. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her she’d be great, but it was too late since we were all walking out onto the makeshift stage. For such a shy girl, she really got troll crazy once you got to know her. Heck, I learned all my dirty jokes from her. Jokes we never shared in front of Ms. King, of course.
My next singing partner in crime, Lexi Townsend, flipped her sunny blond hair back and nodded at each of us before taking her spot at the end of the line. She always had a way about her, a mysterious quiet confidence. Maybe it was her shoes (she always wore killer shoes, even if the rest of her clothes were worn and faded), or maybe it was because she grew up in the rougher part of Christmas Mountain. Or maybe it was because her mother was as loud and bubbly as Lexi was quiet and reserved. Whatever it was, I loved her for it.
Morgan slid in at Lexi’s stage right. She was born straighter than Ms. King’s conductor baton she waved at us. I always admired her rule following ways. Unfortunately, rules didn’t seem to take with me. Something Carol learned a few months ago when I glued our math teacher, Mr. Arrington’s, drawers shut on his classroom desk. How was I supposed to know Carol would be in his office that day? I’m thankful she didn’t know it was me. Detention and her blended as well as egg nog and summer heat.
Carol took her spot front and center. She was beautiful with her white blond hair, something I wished I had instead of my mousy blond. It didn’t matter; she always included me even when I knew she didn’t want me messing up their girly plans with my need for adventure. I wasn’t sure why I had to always turn everything to the extreme, except that life was meant to be fun. I was surprised she was still friends with me after the club house incident. Who knew there were nails in the boards I’d appropriated—a word I learned at a young age in a house with so many siblings—from the old barn. And how was I supposed to know she’d step on one? Oh, the drama from her mom. I would’ve so taken the nail for her.
Faith strutted up next to Carol, Faith’s mother shook her head and covered her eyes. Guess she noticed Faith made a quick switch backstage out of the patent leather shoes to Converse sneakers. I liked them. She had them in every color, but I knew her favorites were the black ones. I was always a little surprised she was so close to Emma. I thought Lexi and Faith would have more in common. What did I know? I was just excited to have friends, and I wasn’t rocking that Christmas sled full of friendship.
I joined the girls on the far left along with Emma in between Faith and me. All eyes were on us seven girls and Ms. King. We’d practiced together the last few weeks and we were good; better than I thought we’d be. Thanks to Joy’s help, I think I even sang on key now. Still, I saw the panic in Joy’s eyes as she sat at the piano. I willed her to put her fingers on the keys and work the magic she didn’t seem to believe she possessed. I didn’t know if it was the fairy snow from outside, Ms. King’s magical baton, or the love of her friends, but I saw that performance switch flip, lifting the edges of Joy’s mouth into a smile as her fingers glided over the piano keys.
The lights strung through the wooden beams overhead glistened, the white old-fashioned lights along the side walls were adorned—a word I learned from Emma—with red bows and the spicy smell of apple cider waiting for us in the back after the show all made Christmas Mountain the best place even Santa’s Elves would want to be at Christmas. Even though my own family didn’t come, I had my town family and my friends.
The tune “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” pounded out with enthusiasm and all of us seven sang like angels, if I do say so myself. Based on Ms. King’s smile, I’d say she agreed. The spirit of Christmas filled me with the hope and love of the season. My skin erupted in girly goosebumps. Not something I experienced often, but by the end of the song we joined hands and bowed. I knew everyone had felt it. The entire crowd erupted in joyous applause. Brent Donnelly, the cutest boy in school whistled from the side wall at us, still wearing his Nutcracker costume. He was the boy I secretly dreamed would be mine someday. Even though his rich family would never approve of my working family heritage, Dad was a hand on a farm and Mom worked in a grocery store, but I could still imagine our future. I even did the name try on thing. Ash Donnelly didn’t look too bad to me.
Backstage, we huddled together in a friendship circle. “You did great,” Emma whispered to both me and Fait
h.
“Joy, you did it. You played with Mozart perfection, dear.” Ms. King squeezed each of our hands. “Go see your families, but don’t leave. I have something for each of you.”
I stood and watched as my friends told their parents they’d be right out. Some were hugging and congratulating, others patted a shoulder in a good-ol’-girl way. From my tiny corner behind the piano I watched people sip cider and nibble on Christmas treats. My mouth watered at the sight of frosted sugar cookies, but they’d have to wait because Ms. King waved us to the front corner. “Get your coats and bundle up. Ladies. My present is outside.”
I dared a quick glance at Brent before following my fellowship of friends to the coat hooks and out the front door. The temperature had dropped since we’d arrived at the Christmas Mountain Community Center a few hours ago, but the cold was okay. It made me feel alive. Faith slid on the ice in her Converse, but Emma held her tight to her side. The gold star at the top of the town tree sparkled in the distance as if guiding everyone to the town square, the heart of Christmas Mountain.
“Ms. King, where are we going?” Lexi said.
“To the falls.” She led the way up the path toward the sound of rushing water. It wouldn’t be long before it froze solid.
I yanked my hat further down my head to cover my ears. I liked cool not frigid. It felt like Mr. Frost had taken my ears and left his stinging mark behind. At the top of the hill, I spotted the bench and small tree already full of ornaments, a town tradition. Last year when we moved to Christmas Mountain, I put an ornament on the Sharing Tree and wished to be noticed. I guess that had come true. I had meant to be noticed by my family. Instead, I’d been given a family of friends.
“Okay, girls gather around me.” Ms. King looked pretty with her silver hair peeking out from under her red cap. When I got ancient, I wanted pretty hair like hers. “I’m so proud of each of you. What an amazing job you did. There’s something special about the seven of you. I don’t know what it is, but you inspire everyone in town. Oh, and that performance. It was lovely. I have to tell you that I’ve never seen another group of amazing friends in all my years of being a choir teacher. You are each unique yet complement each other. That’s why I wanted to do something special for Christmas.”
“What is it?” Carol asked, in her soft, sophisticated tone.
Ms. King pulled the seven woven bracelets we’d made earlier in the day out of her coat pocket. “When I was a little girl, I had special friends, the kind that you have for life. Over the years we’ve moved apart, some have passed on, but I still feel them in my heart each day. I see this kind of friendship in each of you. A group of lifetime friends.”
She handed a bracelet to each of us. Faith switched the pink and purple one with Joy who had her lime green and black one. I snagged the hot pink one I’d made. Lexi, Morgan, and Emma did a three-way switch. Once we were all settled with our bracelets Ms. King pointed to our wrists. “Place the bracelets on each other’s wrists with a simple promise that will be tightly woven like the strings. And tell each other that you are now and always will be there for each other. It sounds simplistic, but it isn’t the words, it is the meaning behind them.
Each girl turned to the next to tie on their bracelets. I was number seven. Emma tied mine, “I promise to always be there for you.” Those simple seven words caused a spine-tingling reaction
And in that moment, I knew nothing would ever tear the seven of us apart. We were destined to be friends forever.
One
Fourteen Years Later
The First Noel filled the rental car with the sound of Christmas and the warning of haunting pasts surging into the future. In the rearview mirror, the darkness wrapped around the pine tree dotted mountain side. Ahead, twinkling lights flickered with the promise of home. A home I’d vowed never to return to.
I veered off the two-lane road into an overlook. The spot I’d often dreamed of hanging out with Brent Donnelly. The way the other couples did back in high school. But I wasn’t the one he wanted to hang out with; Emma Winters was his perfect match.
I stepped out into the chilly mountain air. A stark contrast to the Florida Key’s salty ocean. With Ms. King’s letter tight in my hand, I inhaled the memories of friends, family, and failures.
“Why Ms. King? Why’d you call me back here?” I knew it had to be important, but the letter stated she would only speak to me in person. Two unanswered messages later, I knew I had to come back to Christmas Mountain. I only hoped I could sneak in and out of town without anyone noticing. I didn’t need the judgmental looks at the screwed up, immature girl, that once drew too much bad attention when she lived in Christmas Mountain.
The sound of rushing water from the river and the distant chiming of the old town clock brought my childhood back. I peered over the rocky edge and spotted the path to the outcropping—the most romantic spot in Montana. The dream of me and Brent cuddled under a blanket watching the town below would never come true. It was time to put those thoughts to rest once and for all. I returned to my car and headed toward town, but try as I might, thoughts of Brent followed me. Would he be married with kids by now? Was he happy? How about the rest of my old friends? How were they doing after I left them all behind. Guilt slipped into me with the memory of abandoning all those that I once vowed to honor and cherish forever.
I sped down the twisting mountain road. I loved a good rush, especially to avoid any real feelings. Feelings, emotions, only got in the way of living.
At the county line, I slowed before hitting Main Street. White lights strewn overhead marked the beginning of town. Potted trees in front of each store with their own white lights, and red bows tied to the old-fashioned lamp posts all screamed Christmas Mountain decor. The whimsical picture-perfect town that warmed your heart no matter what mood plagued you.
Red lights of a different kind spun behind me. Great. Police lights. Everyone entering Christmas Mountain in a rental would be pulled over for the ceremonial welcome to our town and fifty questions of what business you had here.
I angled into a spot, turned off my car, and waited. Waited for my epic welcome home.
A tall woman got out of her cruiser and she placed her official hat on top of her red hair. Even through my tiny side mirror I could tell she was pretty, too pretty to be a cop in the all-boys club of Christmas Mountain public services division. I wasn’t sure how she cracked the man code to join the force, but bravo. I already liked her.
I hit the button to lower my window at her approach. “Hi, don’t worry, I’m not a stranger, I’m from Christmas Mountain.” I held out my hand to her, but she only flipped open one of those ticket things and began scribbling.
“If you’re local, I’m sure you know the speed limits. You blew down that mountain like a speed demon with a death wish.”
“Oh, that. Well, I slowed before I reached Main Street. Law around here always told us to take it down before entering town.” I said it in the rhythmical way the officer always said it back in high school Based on the officer’s lip tightening I knew immediately she didn’t like my humor.
“I’m Officer Hutchinson, and the only agreement we have is that you obey the law. License and registration, please.”
My mouth fell open. Once someone announced they were a Christmas Mountain citizen the police usually sent them on their way. They didn’t like to bother with going to court if they could avoid it. “Um, sure. I think I have my idiot ID in here somewhere.” I reached for my purse in the back seat.
“Keep your hands where I can see them, please.” Great, a woman on the force and she has to prove herself. Fine, I’d pay the darn ticket; wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it. That was one thing that had changed since I left Christmas Mountain. I retrieved my license and registration and handed it over.
“Local, huh? ID says Key West Florida. Miss Ashley Brooks.” Officer Hutchinson took a step back. “Do you have anything in your car I should be aware of? Drugs, alcohol, or weapons?”
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sp; “Nothing except my dumb blond elixir to help me navigate life.” I laughed. Officer Hutchinson didn’t.
“Get out of the car, please.”
“Excuse me?”
“Out of the car.”
I opened the door but didn’t dare reach for my coat. I was worried Officer Hutchinson would shoot me. “I was joking. You should know I tend to tease when I’m nervous.”
She directed me to the front of the car. “Stay where I can see you. Do I have permission to search your car, ma’am?”
“Ah, sure.” I bit my lip to keep from making a wisecrack.
After several minutes of tossing things around in the rental car Officer Hutchinson stood with a disappointed swish of her lips. “Stay here Ms. Brooks. I’ll be right back.”
I leaned against the rental and scanned the old shops. Looked like the corner toy store had shut down, a few of the stores looked renovated, but most everything else remained the same. My gaze traveled to the other end of town over where the Christmas Mountain Community Center sat behind the trees. The one place I had felt like I truly belonged in life. For a second, I allowed myself to play with the notion of coming home to where I knew my neighbors and there weren’t any strangers in town. Not full of rotating tourists in and out of my life. Not that I minded strangers. I loved owning my own business and there were worse ways to spend my days than running boat charters on the ocean.
The wind picked up, so I turned to block the chill and spotted a man through the window of Knits by Nana. The knitting store that had been owned by Mrs. Donnelly, Brent’s grandmother. A place I used to hang out after school before my mother got off work. His grandmother was the best. I squinted at the figure. A handsome grown man with a trimmed beard and short hair, held my gaze captive as my mind caught up.
