Chapter Five
Rachel had braved a homecoming to fulfill her pact with her girlfriends. Then she’d faced a date with Gavin Blake even though she was still way too attracted to him. Tonight, she’d forced herself back into the presence of people who didn’t trust her and clearly didn’t want her around.
What more damage could it possibly do to sing a song?
As the party guests stared her down in the Garretts’ living room, she thought she might be more comfortable singing for them than having to make actual conversation. Besides, Gavin seemed determined to stick by her through this hellish evening and she didn’t like the idea of him having to make stilted conversation by her side. He didn’t deserve any of this hostile reception.
Bottom line: a song seemed easiest.
“What will we sing?” she asked Gavin even as he whisked her toward the low, makeshift stage that was draped with a few green Christmas tree skirts.
A low rumble of interest—or, more likely, a protest brewing—went through the crowd while Gavin sorted through a box of props on the stage.
“I heard you sing ‘What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?’ for the Yuletide Summer Queen contest.” He set a tiara in her hair, tilting it this way and that until he was satisfied. “We can do that as a duet. You lead; I’ll take the second stanza.”
He dragged a couple of stools to center stage, putting them side by side.
“Right.” She peered out over the crowd. And sure enough, there were scowling faces. But Kiersten was there, too, surrounded by Emma and the bridesmaids who had at least been open-minded enough to let her pitch refashioned dress ideas without walking out of the room. “Because that summer doesn’t hold any bad memories for anyone.”
Gavin wrapped a white boa around her neck, faux feathers flying. His green eyes locked on hers.
“I had some really good times that year.”
Her heart skipped a beat as her thoughts raced to that one unforgettable kiss. If her world hadn’t derailed right afterward, it would have been a highlight for her, too.
“Um.” She licked her lips, throat gone dry. She couldn’t think of an argument when her thoughts were humming with runaway romantic thoughts. “Okay.”
The grin that stole over his face revved her pulse and made it easier to think about him than about all those cranky faces filling the restless living room.
Gavin picked up the guitar that looked more suited to a teen than a grown-up. It must be three-quarter size. But still, he tuned it quickly, making a few adjustments as he took a seat on his barstool.
“You really know how to play that thing?” she whispered, scrolling through the karaoke machine to the song lyrics before taking her seat next to him.
Not that she really needed the words in front of her, but it was nice to have them as a backup. There’d been a time in her life when she’d routinely sang every holiday song known to mankind, whether it was as a featured performer in the nightly tree-lighting ceremony or in the school concerts and plays. Her crooked father had encouraged those performances, no doubt. But she’d enjoyed them. Singing was one part of the holiday festivities that didn’t make her allergies act up.
“No, but it’s my prop.” He shrugged as he twisted a tuning peg. “Unless you want to swap and give me the tiara?” He extended the guitar, offering the trade.
“Er. No, thank you.”
“Good.” He put the instrument back on his lap. “Girls dig guys who play guitars.”
She was pretty certain the girls would have been interested in Gavin no matter what, but as he said it, she had a flash of memory of him from the first time she’d met him. Her father had brought him into the fold when the townspeople had undertaken Santa’s Playground. They had been saving money by volunteering hours to build much of it themselves. Even the middle school kids had a role in raking out the site, and a scrappy loner of a boarding school boy had been lurking around the perimeter until her father called out to him and put a hoe in his hand.
Tonight was the first time in years she could remember focusing on one of the good things her dad had done. Maybe it was inevitable being back home in the town he’d helped to build.
“Are you ready?” Clearing her throat, she adjusted the height of the microphone.
A huge Christmas tree twinkled multi-colored lights across the room, an array of Santa Claus ornaments cavorting around the branches while a silver star winked on and off. Her increased dose of allergy meds seemed to ward off any reaction to the tree.
“One, two…” Gavin mouthed a silent count for her, finger hovering over the karaoke machine.
She missed her cue.
He counted again and she launched into the lyrics.
The opening words about it being early in the game sounded full and sultry, a gift of her voice that had taken her by surprise as much as anyone else when she’d been a kid. But singing was easy for her, a pleasure to share even with a hostile crowd.
Especially with Gavin strumming along to the background music beside her, keeping an easy time. Coming in for the second verse with a smooth voice that didn’t try too hard. He was a pleasure to listen to, the tone surrounding her like a hug. Or maybe it was the way he held her eyes when he sang about being held in someone’s arms.
The words made her own response a little throatier for the third verse. She didn’t bother looking out toward the gathered guests any more. The song was for him. And her.
He joined her for the final verse.
Not ready to let go of the moment or the song, she held up a finger to ask for a second round of the chorus. He let her sing that one alone and she added a flourish at the end, lingering over the words and letting the question dangle between them for a long moment as he held the last note.
Then, breaking the romantic duet with a nod to the living room and a smile, he strummed all that tension away in a quick holiday reprise—a stolen snippet of “Jingle Bells.” No matter what he said, he knew how to play a guitar.
The living room erupted in applause. Or at least, more applause than she’d been anticipating. That was for Gavin though. Yuletide loved their adopted son. He might have been born in Colorado and gone to school in Lake Placid, but as far as anyone here was concerned, he was a Yuletide native.
Seeing their obvious affection for him, she regretted letting him put himself through this for her sake. If he’d shown up at the Garretts’ front door alone tonight, he would have been ushered right inside and warmly embraced. Her presence here only made things awkward for everyone at a time that should be the happiest in Kiersten’s life. It hadn’t escaped Rachel’s notice that Luke was nowhere to be found in the crowd watching them.
He was avoiding her on purpose.
“I should get going.” She stood as the applause died down, tugging off her tiara and tossing the plastic crown into the prop box. “The Tinsel Trolley runs past here a few times at night. I can catch a ride home.”
She felt itchy again and guilty for keeping everyone from having fun.
“Whoa.” Gavin set down the guitar as she wove past a family with three small children coming up to the stage to take their turn at karaoke. “Wait up.”
Eye on the front foyer, she would have kept walking except that her sweater vest caught on something. Halting, she turned to see one of the little girls gently tugging the fabric to get her attention.
“You sang so pretty,” the child said shyly between gapped front teeth. Dressed in a festive green sweater covered with snowmen, she wore her hair in barrettes with white satin bows. One sagged lower than the other in the drooping red curls.
Rachel couldn’t hold back a smile despite her panic to leave. “Thank you, sweetie.” She tapped the girl’s nose gently. “You’re going to sing beautifully, too.”
The child shook her head hard, red curls flying and making the barrettes slip even lower. “I don’t sing good, so I ring the bells.”
Rachel sensed Gavin step down from the stage behind her, easily catching up to her now that she’d been waylaid. Not that she’d been running from him, exactly. But a little, she had been.
“That’s a very important job,” Rachel assured the girl. “Good luck.”
“Hurry up, Lily!” an older sibling with matching, perfectly perched bows in her hair hissed from the stage, holding out her hand. “Come on.”
Lily stuck out her tongue briefly, but let go of Rachel’s sweater and hopped on the stage with her family. Rachel watched her go, missing the one fan she’d made today in an otherwise uncomfortable room.
“You can’t leave without me.” Gavin spoke into her ear, his voice—or maybe it was the message—making her stomach flip in a good way.
“I don’t want to drag you away,” she pleaded with him quietly, all the while moving toward the front door. “But Luke isn’t going to talk to me of his own free will, and I don’t feel right making him uncomfortable at a party in his honor.”
The partygoers had stopped staring at her, at least.
“So we can work on Luke one day at a time before the wedding. If you’re ready to go, we leave together.” He opened the hall closet door to retrieve their coats. “Normally, I’d say we should thank the hostess, but in light of our reception tonight, I’m going to say that’s a bit of etiquette we can safely skip.”
As the family on stage began the opening bars of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” Rachel peered back toward the big living area where little Lily stood in the center of her siblings, a red leather strap of bells in one hand.
Gavin placed Rachel’s cape on her shoulders, surrounding her with warmth and—for a delicious moment—his arms. He paused beside her to follow her gaze.
“That’s Scott Malek, the mayor, by the way.” Gavin pulled his own coat on. “He’s the guy who wants to monetize the cross-country skiing idea. He’s Luke’s cousin too, but that sure hasn’t given me any kind of sway with the guy.”
So Harris family relations were back to being in charge of the community once known as Harristown. She could hear the frustration in Gavin’s voice and she empathized. How far had Yuletide come from its founding ideals? And how could they justify letting one negative incident in the town history turn the whole place so cynical? It seemed so…anti-Christmas.
And seeing the mayor’s adorable daughter constrained to ringing a strap of bells for the family song hardly improved her impression of Scott Malek.
“That’s just wrong,” she muttered, not sure which transgression bothered her more. “You see why I’m allergic to this town?”
Turning from the spectacle, she spotted the clear plastic garment bag full of pinned dresses hanging in the open hall closet. Kiersten must have brought them down so Rachel didn’t forget them. Guilt stabbed her at the idea of not saying goodnight to the bride, but Rachel really needed fresh air and to clear her head. Maybe Kiersten didn’t realize that her husband-to-be still held a grudge where Rachel was concerned, and now wasn’t the time to push the issue. Instead, Rachel reached for the garment bag, but her fingers bumped into Gavin’s.
Tingling awareness prickled up to her shoulder. All through the rest of her.
“I can get that for you.” He laid the bag over one arm and closed the hall closet before opening the front door for her. “But as far as the allergy goes, I think it’s a convenient way to duck a sense of obligation to your hometown.”
Stepping out into the snowy night, she nearly tripped at the implication. All that tingling awareness faded. Anger simmered.
“You say that like it was me who founded the town and not my father,” she shot back, picking up her pace down the powder-covered walkway. “Why should I feel obligated to keep this place on track when every person living here—except my mom—turned their back on me eight years ago?”
Sure, she’d won Kiersten over fairly quickly, but she’d been a best friend. And that patched-up relationship hadn’t given Rachel a spot in the wedding. Not that she held the choice against the bride—she’d encouraged it. But it still hurt to be so far on the outside looking in at people who used to be such an important part of her life.
Gavin double-timed his step to catch up with her speed walk and then get ahead of her. He turned, standing in her path so that she had no choice but to face him.
“You’re not obligated, Rachel.” He took a step closer, focused on her like she was the only woman in the world. “But you are creative and charismatic. And when you stop trying to resist this place, you might find you have a gift for the kind of ideas that get people excited about living here again.”
With the warmth of their shared song still reverberating through her, she hated to argue with him. But her creativity was better spent on her work instead of the town that didn’t want her. She would get the bridesmaid dresses altered, patch things up with Luke in a place that wasn’t so public as a party, and then she’d be on her way. It might be as much peace as she could squeeze from her past.
*
With music blasting the next afternoon, Rachel worked on the third floor of her mom’s house. She guided red satin through her mother’s sewing machine as fast as she dared, remembering the quirky rhythms of the ancient Singer.
Surrounded by boxes of town and family memorabilia that her mother must have stowed out of sight once Chris Chambers left town, Rachel sang along with Ella Fitzgerald as she finished a dart in the halter bodice of Emma’s revamped bridesmaid dress.
Kiersten had texted her today, apologizing for the awkward reception at her house the night before and reminding Rachel about the bachelorette party tonight. Not that Rachel would be attending. She’d put herself in the community eye to try and make amends, but she wasn’t going to succeed without the groom’s help. It hadn’t boded well, in her mind, that she hadn’t spotted so much as a glimpse of Luke Harris at the party the night before. No matter what he told Gavin or Kiersten about wanting to move on and put the past behind him, he hadn’t gone to any effort to welcome Rachel home.
No effort to extend an olive branch.
Letting up on the sewing machine pedal, she slid the fabric out from under the presser foot and flipped it around to work on the other side. She’d been at the machine all day except for a brief trip to the Merry & Bright Bakery this morning to pick up breakfast for her mother. She’d walked in on a conversation at the counter about a mystery woman who was only in town to break up a wedding. She took a wild guess they’d been referring to her based on how fast the talk turned to the weather.
The chilly reception bothered her in a different way today than it might have earlier in the week. It was one thing for the townspeople to turn their back on Rachel. She expected that. But Gavin’s words last night made her realize just how lacking in Christmas spirit Yuletide felt with people holding grudges and more worried about making money than giving back to the community with charitable opportunities.
At this time of year especially, that upset her.
“Rachel!” her mother called up the stairs, her voice a soft undertone behind the music and the hum of the sewing machine.
Easing her foot off the pedal again, Rachel pressed the volume button down on her phone, silencing the wireless speaker. “Yes?”
“You have a visitor.” Her mother’s voice held a peculiar note—borderline girlish and a little flirtatious.
Rachel’s early detection system warned her this visitor would be male.
“Okay,” she called back belatedly, already hearing a heavy step on the staircase.
Gavin appeared then, his head nearly brushing the ceiling even in the center of the room where the roof wasn’t sloped. The insulated pants and boots he wore with a red sweatshirt layered over a tee made her think he’d spent the day on the mountain. The snow here wasn’t always the same caliber as the Alps and the Rockies, but for a snowboard cross athlete, there were local runs that worked well for training.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He glanced down at her work, making her realize she clutched the skirt of Emma’s red satin gown tightly in one hand.
Forcing her fingers to unclasp, she reminded herself she was over Gavin. He didn’t make her nervous anymore. She was older now, and wiser. So the natural, athletic grace in the man’s every movement was just something she noticed on a purely intellectual level.
Yes, she sucked at kidding herself.
“You’re not interrupting.” She straightened from her seat, coming to her feet. “I’ve been hunched over the machine for hours. I’ll wind up with a kinked neck if I don’t take time to look up now and then.”
Standing put her in sudden, close proximity with her guest considering the cramped space and low ceiling.
“You want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air?” He stared down at her from his spot less than a foot away.
She glanced over to the windows looking down on Main Street. The sidewalks were full of tourists, although—she could see now, thanks to Gavin—not as many as in the days when her father was a driving force in the town.
Two days ago, she wouldn’t have wanted to face the snubs. But after making the effort to smooth things over with many of the people she’d been closest with last night, she found she didn’t feel like hiding out in the house today. Also, Gavin Blake’s personal magnetism was way too high when she stood so close to him in this private spot.
“Definitely.” She would have lunged for the stairs if he hadn’t been standing in her path, stirring butterflies she tried hard to ignore. “That would be nice.”
Ten minutes later, they walked away from the town square, toward the Tinsel Trolley station. Rachel hugged her white parka tighter even though it hadn’t been that cold this week. The temperature hovered right around freezing, which wasn’t bad for a city in the mountains that routinely showed up on the weather news as the coldest spot in the nation.
They bought hot cocoa at the kiosk near the skating pond—a man-made addition to the town with a booth to rent ice skates and a canopy of lights strung between the trees overhead. The place was full of teens and young families. The bright lights made for good photo opportunities since the sun set so early this time of year. Holiday music—ever present around here—was piped in over hidden speakers. The choices were more modern though: pop singers interpreting the classics or crooning newer tunes.
Sipping her steaming hot chocolate carefully, Rachel followed Gavin’s progress to the far end of the skating rink where an empty wooden bench sat between two huge oak trees.
“I wanted to apologize for last night.” He waited for her to take a seat and then settled beside her on the bench. His knee brushed hers. “I know it’s not my place to tell you where to live or what to do.”
He laid an arm on the bench behind her, making himself more comfortable in a way that made her entirely too aware of him.
“I know you meant well.” They definitely hadn’t said much of anything on the short ride home. She’d been battling her frustration about Luke’s disappearing act. “This place gets under my skin—even more than I expected it when I came back.”
Although tonight, beside Gavin under the white lights, she didn’t feel quite so much opposition to her hometown. Sipping hot cocoa beside a charming, handsome man bearing an apology was definitely kind of nice.
“So what were you working on at the sewing machine?” he asked, resting one boot on his knee in a way that made his legs sprawl a little more. “Are you filling an order for a custom design through your store?”
She felt flattered he remembered. “No. I’m making some adjustments to the bridesmaid dresses for Kiersten’s wedding.”
He nodded, waving at a couple of skaters who called out to him as they passed. “That must be what was in the garment bag we brought home from the party.”
“Yes. We did some fittings upstairs last night while I waited for you to work your charm on our hosts.” She breathed in the crisp night air, the scent of pine not bothering her as much outdoors.
Fragrant roasted chestnuts filled the air too, a specialty of the kiosk where they’d bought the hot chocolate.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain so well.” Frowning, he leaned back to toss his empty cup in a bin behind them. “I’m especially disappointed in Luke, who could have made a lot of the ill will go away if he’d just greeted you normally.”
“I know you and Kiersten think he’s not holding a grudge, but from my perspective, it doesn’t seem like he wants anything to do with me.” That hurt because she’d been very forthright with Luke when they’d broken up. She’d only kept quiet about it because he’d asked her to. “I’m not sure how to approach him at this point.”
Distracted by her own thoughts and memories, it took her a moment to realize Gavin looked uncomfortable. He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut again, shifting positions beside her.
“What?” Straightening, she set her empty cup on the ground under the bench and pivoted so she faced him. “Do you know why he’s acting that way?”
Gavin huffed out a sigh. “He’s got some notion in his head that your dad told you he was leaving ahead of time. And that even though you didn’t know he was taking the money, you still kept quiet to give him time to get away.”
She remembered a tense, angry confrontation with Luke two days after he’d caught her kissing Gavin. He’d come over to her house full of indignation. Frustration. Snippets of those old accusations came back to her now. “He thinks that because I didn’t cry wolf and go running to find my dad that day, somehow that means I was complicit in his embezzlement? How could he claim to have known me well enough to propose and have thought that of me? He clearly didn’t know me at all.”
“He just thinks you might have known your dad was leaving.” Gavin made an awkward shrug, like he didn’t believe it…but sort of wondered about it.
Or was she just being prickly again?
Forcing herself not to react with the same resentment she always used to feel about that day, she remembered how hard Gavin had fought for her to be accepted around here. He’d put his own reputation on the line for her last night, and he had to live among these people. In light of that, she thought he deserved an explanation.
Bridging the space between them, she rested a hand on his knee to draw his attention.
“I swear to you, I had no idea he was going.” She tried not to think about how deeply that cut her. Under all the layers of tangled emotions from eight years ago, that underlying hurt resonated the most. “My father was a rock in my life every moment up until that day. I didn’t need to go running to him because in my heart, I knew my family—and Dad, especially—would back me no matter what.”
Gavin’s hand covered hers, a warm weight that comforted her. Anchored her from getting too lost in those emotions.
“You must have been devastated,” he said simply.
“It was awful.” She could remember returning to the house that night. Finding her mother crawling the walls, wondering why he wasn’t answering her calls. Rachel’s worries had flipped from her own romantic troubles to far bigger concerns. And maybe she felt safe sharing her real feelings with Gavin because he was probably the only person in town who didn’t see her father as a cartoon villain, but a multi-dimensional man. “I didn’t know it until that night, but he’d been on medicines to help him with depression, insomnia, impulse control…a lot of things.”
“I don’t remember reading that in the press coverage afterward.”
“My mother told the police, but she kept it private from the media because my father had never wanted her to share it. He had a difficult childhood, and he had—to use Mom’s words—a lot of demons.” She remembered her mother holding her phone for days afterward, never setting it down in case he called. “She was terrified he was having a dark episode and might do harm to himself because disappearing and stealing were so out of character.”
She stared down at where Gavin’s fingers rested on hers. Where her hand lay on his knee. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much of a burden it had been keeping her love for her father—love that even his criminal actions couldn’t fully erase—a secret. As if it was wrong to care for someone who’d made a bad choice.
“I’m sorry you and your mother went through that.” Gavin’s green eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t look away.
“It was a long time ago,” she said aloud. She had grown up since then. Changed. Matured.
She wasn’t a girl with a crush on Gavin any longer.
Although, under the canopy of white lights in this quiet spot behind the ice rink, she found it difficult to remember that.
“Was it? Because I remember it like it was yesterday.” He shifted his arm behind her, wrapping it lightly around her shoulders. Stroking her hair where it lay against her back. “Especially the part where I kissed you.”