Chapter 11
Cassie couldn’t quite believe her eyes as they approached the town square, which had transformed into a bustling Christmas bazaar. Townspeople mingled around craft booths and dessert stands, all dressed in outlandish Christmas-themed pajamas. The night air felt crisp and cool against her cheeks, carrying the scent of caramel corn and candied chestnuts with the gentle breeze. Snow still capped the rooftops and blanketed the ground, but every glittering speck had been cleared from the center lawn, possibly from the countless space heaters and twin firepits radiating heat on either end.
As they stepped foot on the lawn, they were enveloped in a pocket of warmth, and it quickly became apparent the center of the square boasted the main attraction. A towering Christmas tree, bedecked in plaid ribbon and a plethora of handmade ornaments, waited to be lit.
“What do you think?” Luke’s hazel eyes glowed with a heartfelt earnestness.
“It’s a Christmas tree lighting ceremony?” Cassie asked.
“With a few additions,” Eliza pointed out. “Ben loves the face painting and gingerbread house decorating.”
“Not to mention the movie at the end of the night,” Luke added.
“Movie?” Cassie asked, not sure how the town would manage that.
Luke pointed to several rows of lawn chairs arranged at the end of the square, surrounded by towering space heaters. “We all bury ourselves in blankets and watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas projected on the front of the courthouse.”
“I’m impressed,” Cassie said, halting abruptly as three young boys darted past them wielding sticks speared with marshmallows.
“No running with sharp objects!” Eliza shouted before mumbling, “Where are their parents?” Her eyes widened as she recognized one of the ruddy faces painted to look like Rudolph. “Wait! That’s Ben!” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I suppose that’s what I get for having the grandparents babysit. Pandemonium.” Chasing the rambunctious boys to the firepit, she called over her shoulder to Cassie and Luke, “Catch up with you two later!”
Giggling, Cassie watched Eliza scramble after them, disappearing into the boisterous, jovial crowd. Nearly every single resident of Poppy Creek seemed to be in attendance. The vibrant hum of laughter and conversation harmonized with the festive Christmas carols performed by a four-piece band. Everyone seemed so… happy. Unexpectedly, an intense yearning to belong overwhelmed Cassie’s emotions.
“What’s on your mind?” Luke asked. “You look like you’re lost in thought.”
Cassie forced a smile past the doleful realization that someday Poppy Creek would be nothing more than a distant memory. “Nothing. Just taking it all in.”
Luke smiled, mirroring her appreciation. “Poppy Creek holds the event the same night every year. And no one remembers exactly how the tradition of wearing pajamas started. Although everyone has their own version they like to tell.”
“Like what?” Cassie asked, intrigued by the strange tradition.
“Oh, everything from a group of moms not wanting to get their kids ready for bed after the movie to a silly dare that started a trend,” Luke chuckled. “But my favorite explanation involves Mayor Hasket, who didn’t retire until the ripe old age of ninety-seven. Rumor has it, his last year as mayor, he showed up in a union suit, and to save him the embarrassment, everyone went home and changed into their own pajamas.”
“What’s a union suit?”
Luke’s eyes glinted with humor. “You know the thermal onesie with the butt flap?”
Cassie covered her mouth with her hand as a giggle escaped.
“Exactly.” Luke grinned. “Ready for some hot chocolate?” He tipped his head in the direction of a small stand draped in golden lights that flickered like tiny fireflies. “Sadie Hamilton owns the sweet shop, and she makes hot chocolate so decadent, you almost have to eat it with a spoon.”
Luke placed a hand on her lower back, directing her toward the booth, and even beneath her thick coat, Cassie could sense the warmth from his touch.
Abruptly Luke froze.
Cassie followed his gaze to a striking platinum blonde in thermal leggings and a long plaid nightshirt that fell mid-thigh. Her icy blue eyes drilled into Cassie, only breaking away when the volunteer at the booth diverted her attention, handing her a paper cup brimming with whipped cream. Throwing one last glare over her shoulder, the blonde stomped toward the firepit where she joined a lively group of friends.
“Who was that?” Cassie asked as they resumed their stride.
“Victoria Burke. Her parents own the Buttercup Bistro.” After a moment’s pause, Luke added, “We used to date.”
Cassie’s heartbeat slowed until it nearly stopped altogether. For some reason the thought of Luke with the beautiful—albeit unfriendly—blonde tied a knot in the pit of her stomach.
As they stood in line for hot chocolate, Cassie knew she should let the subject drop, but she couldn’t help asking, “Why did you two break up?”
Luke dug his fists into his coat pockets, and Cassie wasn’t sure if his hands were cold, or if she’d hit a nerve. “Several reasons.”
Cassie brushed an imaginary piece of lint from her black peacoat. Let it be, Cassie. It doesn’t matter. But her better judgment couldn’t keep her from pressing further. “So, what was the main reason, then?”
Luke opened his mouth to respond, but to Cassie’s frustration, they’d reached their turn in line. So rather than give an answer, he placed their order instead.
Curiosity gnawed at Cassie as they stood off to the side, waiting for their hot chocolate. So much so, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Not the beauty of the star-lit sky that looked like a thousand twinkling Christmas lights had been stretched across it. Or the tantalizing scent of rich, dark chocolate and crushed peppermint. And certainly not the buzz of merriment going on all around her.
In the short amount of time she’d known Luke, she had taken his single status for granted. It never crossed her mind he could be seeing someone. Or perhaps pining over a lost love. Now the thought caused her heart to revolt. But what right did she have to care one way or the other?
It wasn’t, and never would be, any of her business.
* * *
It had been three years since Luke broke off his relationship with Victoria. And living in a small town like Poppy Creek meant they’d run into each other thousands of times since then. She’d even dated someone from Primrose Valley for several months while Luke focused on work and his responsibilities around town. It didn’t make sense Victoria would react so strongly to Cassie’s presence. Unless Luke’s feelings for Cassie weren’t as tightly concealed as he thought.
“Here you go,” Sadie said brightly as she handed Luke their hot chocolate. “Careful, they’re hotter than a coal in a hand basket.”
“Thanks, Sadie.” Turning toward Cassie, he handed her one of the paper cups piled high with homemade whipped cream and a barrage of red sprinkles. They fell in step as they headed toward the second firepit at the opposite end of the square.
Luke wasn’t ignoring Cassie’s question. He honestly wasn’t sure how to respond. Considering his current state of mind, Luke could blame their breakup on the same reasons he wanted to avoid falling any further for Cassie—no time for himself and too many obligations. But back then, the weight of his responsibilities after stepping into his father’s shoes hadn’t sunk in yet. No, it had been something else entirely.
“It was something my dad told me,” Luke said quietly, vocalizing his train of thought.
Cassie tipped her head, cupping the piping-hot cup between her gloved hands.
“You asked why Victoria and I broke up,” he explained. “It was something my dad said.”
“Oh.” Her face softened as she gave him an encouraging smile to continue.
Luke drew in a deep breath, relishing the frosty air as it filled his lungs. He still recalled the exact moment he had the conversation with his father, down to the sharp scent of his
dad’s citrus aftershave. “My mom picked up a cuckoo clock during a trip to Germany in college. Dad hated it. Even after forty years of marriage, he would jump out of his skin every time the hour hit and the cuckoo bird would spring out of its hiding place.” Luke chuckled, still able to picture the look of surprise sprawled across his dad’s face. “One day, I stopped by the house during a particularly bad argument with Victoria. Which happened a lot. The cuckoo clock went off, startling Dad as it always did. And he said, ‘Son, I love your mother. You know how I know?’ Before I could respond, he said, ‘Every time that clock scares the bejesus out of me, I think, I’d put up with a thousand squawking cuckoo birds if it meant being married to your mom.’”
Luke paused several feet from the firepit, staring blankly at the rollicking scene of marshmallow roasting and laughter as though he were removed from it, back in their living room with his dad, conversing in front of the fire.
“That’s so sweet,” Cassie said softly, drawing Luke to the present.
Luke gazed down at her, her delicate features illuminated in the glow of the bright, flickering flames. Her eyes searched his, probing for the meaning behind his story.
“Yeah, it was.” Luke smiled wistfully. “My dad was a man of few words. But when he spoke, people listened.” The familiar ache in his chest returned. “Even though he was talking about a cuckoo clock, I knew what he meant. Loving someone means accepting the bad with the good. It means pursuing them, no matter what. Love always hopes and always perseveres. I thought I loved Victoria. But when my dad shared his story about the cuckoo clock, I knew it wasn’t enough.”
Suddenly self-conscious about how much he’d shared, Luke stole a sideways glance at Cassie. Was it his imagination, or were her eyes glimmering with unshed tears? He cleared his throat. “I guess epiphanies occur at all kinds of strange and unusual moments, don’t they?”
He tried to laugh, but the unguarded look in Cassie’s eyes made him falter. Something lingered behind the intense shade of emerald green. Understanding? Longing? He wasn’t entirely sure. But he knew if he didn’t look away, he would have no choice but to kiss her. He desperately needed to shift the mood. “I bet our hot chocolates have cooled off by now.”
Luke watched Cassie take a sip, anticipating her reaction. But as she withdrew the cup from her lips, he couldn’t help a chuckle.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Uh, you have…” Luke gestured toward her nose where a huge glob of whipped cream sat covered in red sprinkles. “Are you cold? Your nose is a little red.” He chuckled again.
Cassie’s eyes widened, and she quickly swiped at the unwanted adornment.
“You should leave it,” Luke teased. “The red nose looks good on you. In fact, from now on I’m going to call you Rudolph. Or Ru for short.”
Cassie’s mouth flew open in protest as Luke took a sip of his own hot chocolate. As he lowered the cup, she snickered. “Is that so?” Her eyes flashed mischievously. “In that case, I’m going to call you Sprinkles.”
Luke rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, revealing a smear of whipped cream and red sprinkles. He had to laugh. “Touché.”
Cassie joined in his laughter until the crackling of a microphone interrupted their mirth.
A hush fell over the square as Mayor Burns took his place at the foot of the Christmas tree. Luke searched the enraptured faces of the crowd, catching sight of Eliza with her parents. Ben tugged on her hand in unbridled excitement as they waited for the big moment.
The only one not clad in Christmas pajamas, Mayor Burns stood out like a lump of coal in his official-looking black suit and slicked-back dark hair. Although only in his fifties, he looked about as miserly as Scrooge himself. Pre-haunting, of course.
As Luke stood next to Cassie, waiting for the mayor to finish his long-winded speech, he took a moment to soak up the ambiance. The palpable sights, smells, and sounds. The feeling of hopefulness that settled on his chest like a thick, comforting blanket. That’s what he loved most about Pajama Christmas. The intangible spirit of the season felt so real, he could almost hold it in his hands. And it’s what made being with Cassie so risky. During Pajama Christmas, anything seemed possible.
Suddenly, the town square illuminated with dazzling lights as the tree erupted in vibrant color.
Oohs and aahs rippled through the crowd.
Luke glanced down at Cassie. Her entire face shone in the multicolored glow. Maybe it was how lovely she looked or how magical the moment felt or perhaps he’d never know why he did it exactly.
Before Luke could talk himself out of it, he brushed his hand against Cassie’s. Their pinkies grazed, sending shivers up his arm. He held his breath, waiting for her to pull away, but she didn’t stir. Heart pounding, Luke let his touch linger, relishing the intimacy of such a simple gesture.
As the band performed a poignant rendition of “O Christmas Tree,” while those around him sang along, Luke allowed his heart to hope.
If only for one night.
Chapter 12
Few things could distract Cassie from the scintillating memory of Luke’s hand brushing against her own the night before. Few things except a trip to the basement of Maggie’s Place. Although, as the ancient staircase leading below the bakery creaked beneath their weight, Maggie explained it wasn’t really a basement at all. Rather an old mining tunnel dating back to the 1800s when gold miners settled in the area in search of the next mother lode.
Steadying herself in the darkness, Cassie placed a hand on the wall, withdrawing quickly when her palm met the sharp edges of cold stone. Instead, she stuck close behind Maggie, following in her slow, practiced footsteps.
Once at the bottom, Cassie heard a faint click, and florescent light flooded the cave.
Maggie released her grip on the metal pull cord, wiping the dust on her houndstooth apron. “I used to love coming down here.” A youthful glow lit her hazel eyes as she glanced around the tiny pocket of history. “I would imagine what it must have been like for the forty-niners in search of gold. In a way, I suppose I could relate. Starting this bakery was my own quest for a new life.”
Cassie smiled, inhaling the musty scent of damp earth and sediment. “Maggie, this place is incredible.”
A rickety wooden table displayed long-forgotten items like rusty cast iron cookware along with pickaxes and chisels, historical artifacts left behind by previous adventure seekers. At the far end of the table, a flannel sheet covered a large, bulky object.
“Is that…” Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Maggie, who nodded, confirming her suspicion.
“I feel a little ashamed it’s been sitting down here so long,” Maggie admitted. “But I had no idea what to do with it.”
Holding her breath in anticipation, Cassie carefully tugged the sheet. The soft fabric slipped away, revealing an antique espresso machine. Although the hammered copper had lost its sheen, it appeared to be in excellent condition. Perhaps even working condition.
A small gasp escaped Cassie’s lips.
Maggie chuckled. “It must be something pretty special.”
“It’s…” Cassie gently ran her palm along the grimy surface. “Beautiful.”
“I have no idea if it still works. But I’ll ask Penny to come take a look at it. She runs the antiques store, Thistle & Thorn. If anyone can fix it up, she can.”
“Really?” Cassie asked, barely allowing herself to hope. “Why now? After all these years?”
Maggie’s eyes shimmered with motherly warmth. “Sometimes it takes the right person to inspire a change of heart.”
Cassie didn’t know what to say. She smiled her appreciation, holding back grateful tears. After running her hand along the cold metal one last time, she slid the sheet back in place.
Returning to the brightly lit kitchen, it took a moment for Cassie’s eyes to adjust. Slowly, her gaze settled on the dingy brick walls, outdated appliances, and scratched, stainless steel countertops. Not for the first time, Cassie n
oticed how badly it needed a makeover. Or, at the very least, a fresh coat of paint.
“So, what do you think?” Eliza scooped warm gingerbread cookies onto a cooling rack, the spicy, sugary aroma curling into the air with the wisps of steam. “The espresso machine is pretty cool, huh?”
“It’s amazing!” Cassie still hadn’t found the proper words to describe the full extent of her emotions. Nothing seemed to do it justice. “I hope it still works! I’m not an expert in refurbishment, but one espresso machine works pretty much like the next. I could try my hand at it.”
“Let’s see what Penny thinks,” Maggie said, closing the door to the basement. “It could be it simply needs a good cleaning, but Penny’ll know for sure.”
“Great idea!” Eliza beamed her approval. “She’s a genius when it comes to old forgotten things.”
A bell chimed, signaling the entrance of a new customer, and Maggie excused herself.
Sliding a fresh tray of cookies into the oven, Eliza asked, “What’s on the Christmas Calendar for today?”
Cassie made a face. “I have to go sledding. Which either means my grandmother had a crystal ball, or she didn’t care if I was able to complete the Calendar or not.”
“Or,” Eliza said, “she cared more about your attempt to complete it, not the completion itself. Kind of like, it’s the thought that counts.”
Not wanting to belabor the point, Cassie shrugged. It wasn’t as if she could comment on the motivations of someone she’d never met.
“Anyway,” Eliza rattled on. “It sounds fun! Ben’s been begging me to take him ever since the storm.” Her eyes brightened. “We should all go! Luke, too. I get off work at four today. What do you say?”
Cassie hesitated. She’d been spending an awful lot of time with Luke. Too much time.
Without waiting for an answer, Eliza narrowed her eyes, assessing Cassie’s outfit of skinny jeans, cable-knit sweater, and black peacoat. “You do have proper snow clothes, right? You can’t go sledding in that.”
The Clause In Christmas (Poppy Creek Series Book 1) Page 9
