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Christmas in East Kansas (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

Page 5

by Regina Smeltzer


  “You left without saying goodbye. I never knew what happened to you.”

  “I came back to the cabin one afternoon and found my mom packing the car. My grandfather didn’t speak; he just tossed my ball glove into the yard. I had no idea we were leaving.”

  “I’m sorry Thomas, or Larry, or whoever you are.” She wiped her nose. “But I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me who you were.”

  “When Stephen Shuster, my boss, offered me this job in East Kansas, I refused. I didn’t want to run into my grandfather. Over the past fifteen years I have grown to hate him for how he treated my mom.”

  “Fifteen years is a stomach full of hate.” Donna slid off the arm of the couch and wedged herself next to Olivia.

  “When I saw you at the council meeting,” he said, shifting forward in his chair, “and you didn’t recognize me, I believed that for you, those few weeks were a pleasant childhood memory—or else you had forgotten me altogether.”

  “So what about the picture?” Olivia held up the photograph, her steady voice betrayed by a quivering hand.

  “Remember, your dad took them. He gave one to both of us. I brought mine with me.” He couldn’t tell her he always carried the photo with him, that this was the third copy, the first two worn out from being lugged from suitcase to hotel to home and back to suitcase.

  “So you intended to tell me, but then changed your mind?”

  “When you didn’t recognize me, I decided to let it go.”

  Olivia’s gaze roamed his face.

  “I’m still in here, if you’re looking for Larry.” He smiled wide, hoping to lessen the tension between them.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” She looked at the Christmas tree. “And I do remember that summer,” she murmured. “People’s looks change, you know. You should have told me.”

  “So let me understand,” Donna said. “You spent a summer here fifteen years ago.”

  “Right,” said Thomas, even though Donna didn’t seem as interested in his reply as the affirmative nod of Olivia’s head.

  “And now,” she continued, “you went to see your grandfather, even though you didn’t want to.”

  “Right again.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”

  “I had an idea that might save the pond.”

  Olivia’s face brightened.

  He clenched his jaw. She would become hopeful; that’s why he’d left the hotel before she woke. “I asked him to sell some of his land for an alternate road, but he refused.” He paused and then added, “I’m sorry. I really tried.”

  “So there is another place to build the road!” Life returned to Olivia’s eyes. “What if I talk to him? Or maybe someone from the Town Council?” She jumped to her feet, the wadded tissue falling from her lap. “How far is his place? I can still go today! There’s time before the meeting tonight.”

  “Olivia, no. It won’t help.”

  “But it might!”

  “It won’t.”

  “I have to try.” Tears puddled in the corners of her eyes before sliding down her cheeks. “What other option do I have?”

  He had never seen her cry, now he’d witnessed her pain twice in one day. He pulled her to his chest. Sobbing, she wrapped her arms around him and held tight.

  Donna cleared her throat. “You two really need to talk.”

  13

  The Town Council approved the construction of the road, according to the original plan. The good for the community outweighed the loss of their beloved pond. He would have done anything to prevent its destruction, but the issue was settled. The pain showed in Olivia’s expression each time she glanced out the window toward Miller’s Field.

  He could have gone home after Monday night’s meeting, but Olivia asked him to stay for the party Friday night. He hesitated, his heart still raw over the one-sided love affair, and there was the whole issue of a pending engagement she never talked about. But her eyes, looking like the sky on a clear mountain morning, won him over. The next four days went by like a whirlwind. He and Olivia talked about the years that separated their summer together. He told her about the loss of his mother, and she told him about the death of her parents.

  Now, the day of the party had come and guests would arrive in an hour. Olivia flitted around the living room shifting a poinsettia, rearranging the cookie tray, moving a rose-adorned cupcake only to scoot it back again. She sighed softly. “I want everything to be perfect.”

  “It will be,” Thomas said. “I finished setting up the coat racks in the office. Anything else you need me to do?”

  She scanned the room. Folding chairs borrowed from the church were grouped in twos and threes. Small tables, each with bits of evergreen they had cut that morning and embellished with shiny red balls, were nestled into the empty spaces. Boughs of pine draped the fireplace mantel. Flames danced in the hearth. Half a dozen poinsettias graced the room. Every inch of the space shouted Christmas: ornaments, scented candles, even greenery over the door and window frames.

  “Oh! The music! Donna, we forgot the Christmas CDs!”

  As Olivia and Donna scurried around for the discs and another extension cord, Thomas headed to his room to change. He pulled on a pair of black jeans and then slipped the green sweater he bought from Hannah Flannigan’s boutique over his head. When he wandered back downstairs twenty minutes later, several guests had already arrived, including Pastor Robert, whom he’d met at the council meeting, and the family with the four boys who playfully ran him off the sidewalk a week ago outside Paulson’s Diner. He lingered at the bottom of the stairs, not sure what to do.

  Olivia walked through the kitchen door, and his breath caught in his throat. She had changed into a burgundy velvet dress that draped across the tips of her black shoes. The rounded neck exposed just enough ivory skin to add to her allure. She’d twisted her hair into a knot at the base of her neck. With flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, she moved among her guests, acting the perfect hostess for perhaps the last time.

  The front door opened. Mitch Carter, the man who claimed he and Olivia were about to be engaged, strode in. Strange that Olivia had not mentioned him all week, and the man had never made an appearance, not one single time. Mitch spotted Olivia and his lips spread into a smile that showed more approval than rapt emotion.

  Donna pointed the man to the coat racks.

  As Thomas made his way across the room, someone tapped his shoulder.

  “So when are you starting the new road?” The man appeared to be on the down side of middle age. “I own the hardware store. I could use the business.” He grinned and held out his calloused hand. “Sam Hastings. If you need a deal on nails or the odd tool, I’m your man. Got a special going for sidewalk salt right now.”

  “Sam, don’t monopolize our guest.” A gray-haired woman came up and draped a hand over the older man’s arm. “Let’s get some punch.”

  Thomas found an empty spot by the tree and followed Olivia’s movements around the room. She never stopped, always smiling, always cordial. No wonder the town loved her.

  Mitch approached Olivia from behind and kissed her neck. She twirled around, scowling, and he grabbed her hand. She pulled away, and he reached for her again.

  Moving like a running back carrying the football, Thomas maneuvered between guests until he stood beside her. “Is everything all right?” he asked Olivia before glaring at Mitch.

  Mitch returned Thomas’s stare. “If you change your mind, Olivia, I’ll be here.”

  “So that’s the man you’re marrying?” Thomas asked.

  “Who’s marrying him?”

  Thomas looked at her. “He told me the two of you were as good as engaged. I think those were his exact words.”

  Olivia’s mouth flew open and Thomas placed a finger gently across her lips. “Don’t let it spoil your party. We can deal with him later.” Thomas removed his finger, savoring the feel of her lips against his skin.

  She closed her eyes
and took a deep breath. “He can save my hotel.”

  “I know. He told me.”

  “Thank you for being here,” she murmured.

  “Miss Olivia.” A child tugged at Olivia’s arm. “How many cookies am I allowed to have?”

  “Well, Sarah, since it’s you, you may have as many as you want—with your mom’s permission.”

  “Thanks!” She skipped away.

  “That charming little girl is Mitch’s sister, believe it or not.”

  The girl spoke to a woman he assumed to be the mother. The woman held up two fingers, and the girl scampered back to the cookie tray.

  Just as a piano began to intone Christmas carols through the speakers, a muffled blast rattled the glass in the windows.

  People froze and looked at each other.

  Thomas and several of the other men rushed to the street.

  In the west, a small fire glowed against the dark mountain.

  “Looks as if it could be near old Goodman’s place,” Sam Hastings said.

  14

  Olivia’s hands turned clammy as she stood with most of her guests and stared out the window.

  Something in the distance burned. Living in the mountains, everyone knew a small flame looked big in the dark, but a tiny spark could escalate into a full-blown forest fire in minutes.

  Thomas and the two other men came back in and grabbed coats.

  “An explosion at Mr. Goodman’s…” someone shouted.

  Several of the men, volunteer firefighters, headed to the station.

  Fifteen minutes later, one of the teenagers came back to report. “The road to Mr. Goodman’s place no longer exists, but the construction guy knows a hiking path up the mountain.”

  “But it’s several miles up there!” Clara Hector exclaimed.

  More men struggled into overcoats.

  Olivia ran to the mud room and shed her heels for a pair of hiking boots. She pulled a heavy coat over her velvet dress, took the big flashlight she kept on the shelf and went back to the living room. “Everyone, stay here together so when we get news we only have to tell it once. Please enjoy the food while you wait, and leave some for the men, because they’ll be hungry when they get back.”

  Mitch caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to help!” She tried to push him away, but he held tight.

  “You have no business going out there. Let the men handle this.” He put a hand at her back and pushed her towards the women and children still watching out the window. He snatched his own coat and left.

  Mitch didn’t understand. This was her family’s home, and despite the fact she’d be gone next year, she had to do what she could to protect the town and her friends. Olivia waited until he was out of sight. “Donna, can you keep an eye on things for me?”

  Donna nodded, her eyes wide. She turned back to the window with the others.

  ~*~

  Struggling up the steep incline and with briars grabbing like phantom hands at her flaring skirt, Olivia questioned her impulsive action. She had been racing to catch the men for the past half hour, and her legs were tiring. Her heart pounded from the exertion and cold. Breath came in frozen pants. The men were too far ahead; she no longer heard their voices or the sounds they made breaking through the undergrowth.

  She had no idea what she could do once she reached the Goodman homestead. Since there was no way a fire truck could reach that far up in the mountain, maybe someone would call in a helicopter to drop water. She didn’t know how that worked, even though she had lived in East Kansas all her life.

  As she stopped to catch her breath, the twigs cracked and tree limbs groaned. She tried to shake off the anxiety. Bears and snakes were asleep this time of year. The only danger was the maze of trees themselves: thick and tall, miles and miles of them.

  She strained to hear voices. The men couldn’t be that far ahead. With the density of the forest, she couldn’t see the fire, if there still was one.

  She kept walking. Cold penetrated her coat and accentuated the panic building in her chest. What if she wasn’t on the path at all? Mitch had been right. She should have stayed home. How long had she been gone? Maybe an hour? In spite of the freezing temperature that robbed her hands and feet of circulation, sweat formed on her back only to freeze into icy fingers.

  The beam from her flashlight winked off and on. She tightened the cap and was rewarded with a weak glow. The path narrowed until it all but disappeared. The sound of her pounding heart filled her ears. Why hadn’t she waited at the house? What had she planned to do when she got there? She pushed forward, unsure if she was following the men’s path or blazing one of her own.

  She stiffened as low hanging tree limbs, barely visible in the dark, shifted. Beams of light seeped through the bramble and pushed past the tree trunks and boulders.

  “Miss Olivia! What in the world are you doing out here?”

  Olivia choked out a laugh, leg muscles quivering under her. “Hey, Mr. Hastings.”

  “Lookie who I found,” Sam Hastings called over his shoulder. “I got Miss Olivia here.”

  “What’s she doing in the woods?” came a muffled reply.

  “That girl needs to be home,” another voice said.

  “Miss Olivia’s here?”

  Olivia’s heartbeat slowed. The monsters were banished. She was safe. These were her people and she loved them, even in the dark, covered in thorns, and smelling of smoke. “What happened?” She searched the shadowy faces but didn’t see the one she sought.

  The blackness behind the men broke again and Mitch pushed his way through. He stopped when he saw Olivia. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay home.”

  “Obviously she came to help,” Mr. Hastings said, with a frown at Mitch. He turned to Olivia. “Sorry for your trouble hiking up the mountain, but the excitement’s over.”

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “A propane storage tank blew up while Laurence was working in his shop.”

  “Is he hurt?”

  “Knocked in the head some. Found him unconscious a few feet from the barn, but he soon came to. That road guy is staying with him for the night.”

  Mitch grabbed her hand. “I need to get you home. Come on.”

  Olivia barely noticed Mitch holding her hand. Her mind buzzed with questions. She focused on the thud of feet and the crackling of the underbrush. She could never leave East Kansas. The place was as vital to her as the mountain air. But staying would mean accepting Mitch’s proposal. He had given her until Christmas day. Since finding the picture, she had hoped for a rekindling of what she and Thomas had shared that summer, but those were the dreams of childhood. He felt nothing for her.

  One bend in the path followed another. The world shrank to the few feet illuminated by Mitch’s flashlight. Occasionally a voice mumbled behind her, the words indistinct. Reality clawed its way into her brain.

  There were no Christmas miracles.

  15

  Olivia didn’t bother to remove her boots before collapsing onto the nearest couch.

  “Here.” Donna pressed a mug into her hands. “I made hot tea.”

  “The guys…”

  “I have enough for everyone, now drink up. You’re shivering like a leaf.”

  Olivia cradled the mug in her hands. She inhaled the warm steam.

  “No, it’s not sassafras,” Donna said. “I didn’t take time for that. But good ol’ tea from a bag will warm you just the same.” She nudged Olivia’s arm. “Drink it.”

  Clara Hector lifted the tray from Donna’s grasp. “Let me help you. I do this all day so that makes me an expert.”

  Olivia sipped the hot tea.

  “You scared me to death, you know,” Donna said. “I was afraid you’d get lost out there in the dark.”

  Olivia decided not to mention that she had misplaced the path for a while. The sweetness and caffeine began to invigorate her tired body. Most of her guests had left for home. The
plate holding cookies was gone, as well as the punch bowl. Someone had folded the extra chairs and stacked them against the wall.

  “So why did Mr. Thomas stay behind?” Clara Hector asked as she collected empty mugs from the men.

  “He shouldn’t have. Would serve the old coot right to be left alone,” said Harry Johnson, the oldest living man in East Kansas. Whiskers half-way down his chest proved it.

  “You weren’t there, Harry. Give it up.” Sam Hastings handed Clara his mug.

  “We’ve been after him for years to move down off the mountain,” Harry continued, “or at least to let the city plow a road. I remember a time when folks relied on each other.”

  “Come on Harry, let me drive you home,” Sam said, interrupting what would have become one of the man’s well-known tirades. “Thanks for making tea, Miss Donna. It helped to thaw my frozen body. You have my vote for council chairperson any day.”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Hannah Flannigan said, laughing. “You need any more help before I leave?”

  Donna waved her away. “You were great, thanks. I think we’re done.”

  Olivia wiggled out of her boots and stood. “Thank you so much everyone.” Tears welled in her eyes. Somehow the familiar had taken on a poignant quality in the darkness of the woods. Before following the men, she thought her decision had been made to move to the city. But up on the mountain something inside of her changed. How could she leave all of this? Would a life with Mitch be so bad? Even if they eventually moved to the city, surely he would allow her to keep the hotel as vacation home.

  “Glad you’re all back safe,” Clara said. “Merry Christmas, everyone.” She waved as she headed toward the office for her coat.

  The few who remained quickly bid their goodnights.

  Mitch, silent in the corner of the couch, stared at the fireplace. When the door closed, he turned toward Olivia. “You are the most reckless person I know.” His eyebrows pulled tight above his nose. “Look at your dress; it’s ruined. What possessed you to try to walk, alone and in the dark, up the mountain? Do you know how many people get lost every year in the woods?”

 

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