Stranded for the Holidays

by Lisa Carter

  He flushed. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

  But she was so sick of emotionally unavailable men. And for the first time in her life, she made no attempt to stem her anger.

  “Is it me you’re really angry at for not pursuing a marriage I never truly wanted, Jonas, or yourself for not fighting for yours?”

  He blanched. “Don’t make this about me, AnnaBeth. I never lied to you.”

  “Maybe not.” Her mouth twisted. “You just lie to yourself.”

  “Go, AnnaBeth.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he dropped his gaze. “Just go,” he groaned.

  Too overwhelmed for tears, she headed upstairs. It didn’t take long to pack her scant belongings. Slinging the strap of her camera bag over her shoulder, she took one quick look around the bedroom.

  But the only piece of herself she’d leave behind was her heart.

  She slowly descended the stairs. Stalling? Praying for God to change his heart toward her.

  AnnaBeth found him outside, restlessly pacing on the porch. As if he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

  Her lips quivered, but before she could leave, Deirdre drove up with Hunter, who was peering out the window. Deirdre shut off the engine and got out of the Subaru.

  “What’s going on?” She cut her eyes to the suitcase in AnnaBeth’s hand. “Jonas? AnnaBeth?”

  Her emotions on autopilot, she deposited the bags in her car.

  “AnnaBef!” Hunter raced up the sidewalk. “Where awe you going?”

  Jonas grabbed hold of Hunter before he could reach AnnaBeth.

  “Dad? Where’s AnnaBef going? Dad!”

  “I’m sorry...” she whispered to Deirdre. “You are all so dear to me.”

  “Dad!” Hunter wailed. “Don’t let her go. Make her stay.”

  Holding him in place, Jonas clamped his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “It’s time for AnnaBeth to return to her real family, son. She doesn’t belong here.”

  AnnaBeth wrenched open the car door.

  “No...” Hunter’s arms flailed, stretching toward her. “AnnaBef, don’t weave me!”

  AnnaBeth threw herself behind the wheel and shut herself inside.

  She’d never wanted to leave them. But she had no one to blame but herself. If only she’d told Jonas from the beginning what happened the day of the wedding.

  But she hadn’t because she’d felt so unworthy. She’d been afraid Jonas would see her as unlovable, as she once believed herself. Now he felt lied to and deceived.

  The look on his face was so fierce, so angry. So final in his unforgiveness.

  She started the car and pulled away from the lodge. Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

  “Come back, AnnaBef. Come back!” Hunter broke free from his father. “Don’t weave me, AnnaBef,” he shouted, running after her car. “I wuv you. I wuv you.”

  Then the car rumbled over the incline, and Hunter was lost from her view. Her heart shattered into a million crystals.

  * * *

  Reaching Interstate 40, without conscious thought, she headed southeast. Toward Charlotte.

  It had been only ten days since she first traveled this road. Yet it felt she’d lived a lifetime since embarking on this journey. Everything she believed she knew about herself, life and God had been upended.

  She’d met a man and his son. Found new friends, young and old, in a little mountain town called Truelove. Uncovered disturbing things about her past.

  But somehow she’d discovered a peace and self-acceptance she’d never known before. And she’d finally understood her own worth in God’s eyes.

  It was a long way to Charlotte. She didn’t cry. She’d moved beyond tears. Yet with every mile, the tension inside her chest wound tighter. The need for release became greater.

  At long last, she pulled onto the exit ramp for Charlotte. Minutes later, she wheeled into the gated community she’d called home since she’d come to live with her father. The sun had already begun its slow descent behind the trees.

  She whipped into the long driveway beside the stately, white Colonial, and flung herself out of the car. Tripping in her haste, she ran across the lawn. With only one thought in mind... With only one goal.

  Clambering up the steps she burst through the front door. MaryDru’s eyes went wide as she descended the staircase. “AnnaBeth?”

  Her sister reached for her, but AnnaBeth swept past her and headed to the sunroom at the back of the house.

  “AnnaBeth?” Letting the magazine drop from her hand, Victoria unfolded from the plump cushions of the sofa. “Is that you?”

  Her red-rimmed, dark eyes sharpened behind the black framed eyeglasses. “Bethy? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  Like a levee unable to hold back floodwater, she felt herself coming apart. Unraveling. Undone, she could barely see for the tears cascading down her cheeks.

  She stumbled forward. “Mmm-Mom...”

  And her mother opened her arms.

  * * *

  A few days later, Jonas sat alone in his truck on the frosty December morning. Engine idling to warm the vehicle before his son joined him, he stared unseeing at the ranch.

  The final vestiges of snow had melted. Gone with AnnaBeth. The trees on the ridge lifted barren branches to the Carolina blue sky. As barren as his heart felt.

  Jonas had tried stoking his anger against her, but even the anger deserted him, seeping away little more than twenty-four hours after her departure.

  His mother jerked open the cab door, yanking him from his bleak thoughts. Cold air poured into the truck. Clutching a small gift wrapped in gold foil, Hunter scrambled into his booster seat.

  “Is that your Christmas present for your teacher, Hunt?”

  Today was the preschool Christmas party. The one Jonas and AnnaBeth had planned to attend together.

  Setting aside the gift, Hunter kept his head low, getting the buckle snapped. “Yes, sir.”

  Jonas chewed his lip.

  Since AnnaBeth left, his son had been inconsolable. Holding his father responsible, he was angry with Jonas.

  Lips pressed tight, his mother caught Jonas’s gaze. Her disappointment in him was all too obvious.

  She lifted her chin. “Could we meet for coffee at the Mason Jar about nine thirty?”

  “I’m meeting Ethan at the Jar, anyway. I need an estimate on new rocking chairs for the cabins.” He attempted a smile. “Coffee with my mom sounds like a great idea.”

  She didn’t smile back. “You and I need to talk.” His mother closed the truck door with a soft click.

  His stomach cramped. Sounded like something he’d say to Hunter. When Hunter was in big trouble.

  Trees flashing by on either side, the trip into town felt long, and the silence between Jonas and his son, unbroken.

  Jonas wasn’t sure how to overcome the rift between him and this precious child for whom he would have gladly sacrificed his life. Instead of talking to his father, however, Hunter kept his feelings locked tight inside his little chest.

  He flinched. A future Jonas in the making. And that, as much as anything, scared him to death.

  At the preschool, he walked Hunter inside the building. But Hunter sprinted ahead as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of him. He ducked his head inside the classroom to make sure his son was okay. And then headed out again. He met Callie and Jake coming in to drop off Maisie.

  Callie glowered at him. “What were you thinking? To let that girl get away from you?” She threw out her hands. “Obviously, I gave you more credit for good sense than you deserve.”

  A plea for rescue, his gaze darted to Jake.

  But looking sheepish, his friend shrugged. “Why don’t I take Maisie to her class so she’s not late for the party?”

  Jonas swallowed. No reinforcements coming from that quarter
. Mumbling something about an appointment, he made his escape to the parking lot.

  He pulled the truck into the last available spot in front of the Jar. As usual, the diner was jam-packed.

  When he stepped inside, heads swiveled at the sound of the jangling bell. And conversation immediately ground to a halt. From across the room, Mayor Watson glared at him.

  Among the breakfast crowd, he recognized people he’d known his entire life. Farmers like Callie’s father, Nash Jackson. Local businessmen like his cousin, Zach, and fellow churchgoers.

  Not one of them spared him a friendly glance. And when conversations resumed, he detected undercurrents of rumbling hostility. His face heated.

  Ethan waved him over. At least he still had one friend.

  Grateful, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled over. He rounded the corner of the booth to find Ethan’s wife, Amber, on the other side. Incensed.

  She scooted off the seat. “Are you an idiot?” she growled.

  Apparently, he was.

  “Just look what you’ve done to the matchmakers.” She gestured toward the three ladies, slumped in the chairs at their table.

  Amber slugged him in the arm. “How could you?”

  “Ow!” Future stepsister or not, he thrust out his jaw. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done to them, but I—”

  “You’ve completely demoralized them is what you’ve done.”

  He flicked his eyes at Ethan. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Sorry, man.” Ethan winced. “When Amber heard we were getting coffee...” Gaze lowering, he raised the mug to his lips.

  “This is what I’m talking about, Jonas. Callie and Jake. Lorena and Nash.” Amber ticked off the names on her fingers. “Me and Ethan. Your mom and my dad. And that’s just counting the last twelve months.”

  He gulped.

  “A perfect matchmaking record you’ve singlehandedly managed to destroy.”

  His gaze strayed to the three matchmakers. Coffee untouched and cooling, ErmaJean, GeorgeAnne and IdaLee sat in stunned silence.

  The bell jingled as his mom entered the diner.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Amber hissed. “Fix it.”

  When Jonas’s mother approached, Ethan slid out of the booth. “Give me a call later, okay?” He touched his wife’s sleeve. “Come on, babycakes. It’s his mom’s turn at bat.”

  Great... He clamped his jaw. Just great.

  The whole town was mad at him. AnnaBeth Cummings—Truelove’s Sweetheart.

  He plonked down in the vacated seat and laid his hat beside him. “Why here, Mom? Why so public? You could’ve blasted me at home. Or is that the point?”

  His mother sank across from him. “Not to humiliate you. But I knew if we talked here it would be easier for both of us to keep it together.”

  Letting his head fall backward, he exhaled. “Let me have it.”

  “Did you ask AnnaBeth why she ran away from Scott on her wedding day? Before your own baggage reared its ugly head?”

  He straightened. “My what?”

  She met his gaze head-on. “I’m talking about jumping to conclusions not based in fact. Because of what happened between you and Kasey. Because of the number that woman did on your head.”

  “I got over what happened with Kasey a long time ago, Mom,” he grunted.

  “Did you?” His mother placed her palms flat upon the table. “There are some wounds that can take a lifetime to heal.”

  He frowned.

  “You’re not the only one with abandonment issues. After what her father told her—” Tears sprang into his mother’s eyes. “She was reeling, Jonas. And when you misunderstood...”

  Had he somehow misunderstood? For the first time since that horrible morning, doubts emerged.

  Jonas rested his palms on the sticky tabletop. “So tell me, Mom. Tell me what it is you think I should know.”

  “She and Scott weren’t marrying for the right reasons, Jonas. AnnaBeth never loved him.”

  “Doesn’t that tell you something about her, Mom?” He shook his head. “What kind of person in this day and age marries somebody they don’t love?”

  “What kind of person?” His mother pursed her lips. “Was love the reason you married Kasey?”

  His overwhelming feeling for Kasey had consisted of guilt, not love. They’d been together only out of obligation to their unborn child.

  “Like all of us, AnnaBeth has her own baggage.” His mother opened her hands. “A desperate need for approval. That’s why she agreed to marry Scott. To please her father.”

  He scrubbed his chin. “Always trying to live up to the impossibly perfect good-daughter image.”

  Like AnnaBeth and Kasey had told him, Jonas acknowledged it was his own baggage—pride and fear—that kept him emotionally unavailable. Closed off from love.

  “When Victoria Cummings came to the ranch, she shared things with me about their family. About AnnaBeth...” His mother stared out the plate glass window overlooking Main. “About the family’s code of silence.”

  The knot in his chest grew to fist-size proportions. “Code of silence? What are you talking about?”

  “Victoria told me heartbreaking things about her own need to please. The life-long, self-defeating battle she’d waged for physical perfection.” His mother took a deep breath. “About her husband’s poverty-stricken childhood. Baggage that made him always striving to better himself. Never content. Demanding those around him do the same.” His mother held Jonas’s gaze. “Hayes Cummings is a functioning alcoholic, Jonas.”

  It made him sick to think about AnnaBeth growing up in such a self-destructive home. He closed his eyes.

  “Life with her father meant constantly walking on eggshells.” His mother bit her lip. “Her younger sister, MaryDru, struggles with anxiety issues. Everyone develops their own method of coping.”

  And for better or worse, AnnaBeth had developed hers—people-pleasing—no matter the personal cost.

  “She’s very protective of her sister. And loyal.”

  He looked up.

  “Minutes before the wedding, AnnaBeth accidentally discovered MaryDru and Scott had fallen in love. Scott had decided to call off the wedding.” His mother’s lips thinned. “He was moments away from jilting AnnaBeth. She didn’t lie to us, son.”

  “What happened?” he rasped.

  “They didn’t see AnnaBeth, but she overheard her sister insisting Scott follow through with the marriage.” His mother’s eyes misted. “MaryDru didn’t want to see AnnaBeth get hurt.”

  “But she didn’t know AnnaBeth didn’t love Scott.” Jonas gripped the edge of the table. “So instead of allowing MaryDru to make such a sacrifice—”

  “AnnaBeth made the sacrifice for them. She was willing to take the blame. Accept the humiliation.”

  His temples pounded. “She ran because she knew if she stayed, somehow she’d be pressured into marrying Scott and breaking her sister’s heart.”

  “Loyalty and love.” His mother gave him a sad smile. “Hers is such a mixed-up family. And her world comes with such crushing societal expectations, too. Victoria asked me to pray for them.”

  “AnnaBeth tried to explain.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “But I was horrible to her. I wouldn’t listen. I said such terrible things to her. She must hate me.”

  “I don’t think hatred is the primary feeling AnnaBeth Cummings has for you, my son. Question is, now that you know the truth, what do you intend to do about it?”

  He opened his eyes. “I blew it, Mom. Just like I wrecked everything with Kasey.”

  A flood of emotion washed over him. And he knew if he didn’t get out of the Jar this instant, he was going to lose it in front of the whole town.

  He scrambled out of the booth.


  She caught hold of his coat. “Jonas?”

  “I—I need to go, Mom. Everything’s my fault.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “But it’s too late. It’s too late.”

  * * *

  Over the next few days, he walked around the ranch in a stupor. Wrestling with his own unresolved issues with his late wife. Until finally, humbled and spent, he gave them over to God. For the first time in four years, he felt the load of bitterness lift off his shoulders.

  Now he only had to learn how to live with the heartache of a life without AnnaBeth. And somehow make amends for the hurt he’d inflicted in the heart of his child.

  But living without AnnaBeth was easier said than done. The next few weeks were excruciating.

  Without Jonas realizing it, like honeysuckle, tendrils of AnnaBeth had found their way into every inch of his heart. And were about as easily eradicated.

  He ought to know, ’cause he tried. But no matter where he turned on the ranch, memories of her bombarded him.

  Feeding the horses. Mucking out the barn. He thought of her in the hushed, almost holy stillness of the early morning mist on the mountain horizon. In the bright flash of a cardinal, red against a dark, evergreen bough.

  And the ache in his heart only grew larger because she wasn’t there to share those simple, everyday, exquisite joys with him.

  He didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. Each day seemed more dreary than the last. The final week before Christmas, he merely existed, and none too happily.

  The loss of her was overwhelming. All-consuming. He could barely eat. Barely function. Sleep wasn’t an option.

  Christmas Eve morning found him making repairs to the roof of one of the cabins. He’d secured the last shingle when he spotted a messenger delivery vehicle pulling up to the lodge.

  Pushing the brim of his hat higher on his forehead, he gazed without interest as his mother answered the door.

  Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered. How was it possible to fall so completely in love with someone in such a short course of time?

  Truth be told—and it shocked him to his core—he’d lost his sense of place in the world. Lost his passion for the FieldStone at the same time he’d lost AnnaBeth. A revelation he’d never seen coming.