Christmas with Carlie

by Julianna Morris

  She pulled a lap robe over her legs. It was still just midafternoon and she ought to be doing something productive, but she wanted to recover and get out to California as soon as possible. Anyway, she was already packed and ready to go. She just needed the swelling in her ear to go down so it would be safe to fly.

  * * *

  CARLIE DROPPED BY the maintenance yard to see the loads of fresh evergreen that had been delivered that morning. The crew was sorting the branches, cutting them into usable sections and loading everything into containers for delivery to the various decorating work sites.

  Lord, it really would be easier if Poppy Gold didn’t invite guests to help decorate. That way the evergreen swags and wreaths could be made ahead of time and be ready to go up first thing in the morning. Of course, it wouldn’t be as much fun, either.

  Carlie inhaled the thick scent of pine and cedar. She loved Christmas and had always tried to be there for kickoff day. Her ex-fiancé’s indifference to her favorite time of year should have been her first clue that he was the wrong guy for her.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Uncle Liam. He smiled at her, almost the way he used to smile before Aunt Meredith had died. They’d shared a wonderful marriage and had created Poppy Gold together. “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy?”

  “I’m just stressed and wanted a sniff—nothing says Christmas like fresh-cut evergreen boughs.”

  He gave her a hug. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m okay, just feeling sorry for myself. It’s an unattractive habit I’m trying to break.”

  Uncle Liam was less depressed now, but the family tried to keep things upbeat around him. He left managing Poppy Gold to Tessa, though he still looked after the maintenance department, while Tessa’s husband had taken over the security division.

  Thinking about it reminded Carlie that she ought to give her cousin a heads-up about Luke Forrester. As the Poppy Gold owner-manager, she needed to know what was going on. So instead of going straight back to Old City Hall, Carlie stopped at Tessa’s office in the train depot and found her cuddling little Meredith.

  Carlie’s throat ached. She was thirty-one, only a year younger than Tessa, and had hoped to be a mother herself by now. And she might be if Derek had been the man she’d thought.

  Instead, the morning they were supposed to get married he’d told her it was a mistake. Yeah, a mistake...he’d asked another woman to marry him. Incredibly, he seemed to think it wasn’t cheating since he’d decided to call off the wedding before sleeping with someone else. Or at least that was what he’d claimed.

  She wasn’t convinced. In the cold light of reason, Carlie suspected he’d seen an opportunity to marry into money and had taken it.

  So instead of being a wife and mother, she was an honorary aunt to the younger members of the family. She’d have to be content with that for now, because she wasn’t ready to let her heart get shredded again.

  Tessa looked up. “Hey, you look frustrated.”

  Carlie determinedly pushed Derek out of her mind. He hadn’t been a part of her life for more than a year and didn’t warrant the kind of energy she was spending on him. Perhaps it was on her mind, seeing how happy Tessa was with her husband. Gabe McKinley seemed to be Tessa’s opposite in every respect, but the way he looked at her and his new daughter...

  “Carlie?” Tessa prompted.

  “Sorry, my brain was somewhere else. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Luke Forrester isn’t particularly happy. Apparently he believed his family would have the entire John Muir Cottage. He also wants a full office installed in the Yosemite suite, including satellite communications.”

  Tessa blinked. “He couldn’t have been serious.”

  “Noooo, he was quite serious. He plans to run his conglomerate from Poppy Gold while staying here. Anyway, I told him about the facilities we do have and that he’s welcome to use loaner equipment.”

  “We don’t expect anybody to take abuse from a guest,” Tessa said quietly. “No matter what their circumstances.”

  Carlie shook her head. “He’s just demanding and his daughters almost make up for him being difficult. They’re adorable. I just wanted you to know since there’s a good chance he won’t be satisfied, whatever we do.”

  “Don’t lose any sleep over it. Maybe Poppy Gold will work its magic on him.”

  “I hope the magic works fast.”

  They chatted for another few minutes before Carlie got up and said goodbye.

  On the walk to her office, she called her parents, who expected her for dinner with her two brothers, home visiting from college over the Thanksgiving break. Between everything she had left to do and attending the snowmaking event with the Forresters later, she wouldn’t be able to eat with them.

  “I’ll send Quinn or Russ over with something for you to eat,” Mom offered instantly. When Leah Benton couldn’t do anything to fix a problem, she fed people.

  “No need. I have stuff in the office fridge and ate too much at lunch, anyhow. How is Dad? I wish he hadn’t worked today.”

  “You know...the usual.”

  Yeah, Carlie knew.

  Her father pretended everything was fine, but standing for so many hours as a traffic flagger made his chronic pain that much worse. He didn’t have to work—the settlement from the accident was enough to cover lost wages—but Mike Benton refused to take things easy. To his way of thinking, men worked to support their families. They didn’t live on insurance settlements.

  “Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Carlie got off and hurried up the Old City Hall’s front steps. Inside to the left was a broad, curving staircase that rose to an open, semicircular gallery in front of the ballroom. On the right, there was a pair of elaborate double doors set with an intricate pattern of sparkling beveled glass. They were a striking entryway into the guest reception area and original to the building, which made them even better. She waved at Bill and Christine through the clear oval center and headed through the rotunda.

  Quickly she packed a spare computer from the storeroom into a box, along with a multifunction printer. Then she printed out the list of local tutors. Next to Luisa Cabrera’s name she wrote that Luisa had taught first grade for thirty-five years.

  “Tim, would you take this to the Yosemite suite for me?” she asked, putting the list into an envelope.

  “No problem.”

  She sealed the envelope and then accessed her voice mail. There was only one message. It was from Luke Forrester and what he said practically knocked her to the floor.

  “Ms. Benton, it’s Luke Forrester calling. I failed to thank you for our lunch today. It was a nice gesture. I’ve read through the informational packet you mentioned and see that Poppy Gold Inns’ standard check-in time is 4:00 p.m. So, um, it was good to get into our accommodations early. Have a good afternoon and we’ll see you tonight.”

  Carlie blinked. All things considered, it was practically an apology.

  * * *

  THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED rapidly once the sun had gone down and Carlie shivered as she hurried across Poppy Gold to meet the Forresters at the sledding hill. Turning down the twins’ requests had been impossible, but she hadn’t expected to stay this late and had just worn a lightweight coat to work.

  The sledding hill was in the more open section of Poppy Gold where a number of gold miners’ cabins and other relics of the 1849 Gold Rush were preserved.

  As the story went, a few of the miners had dug their heels in when the “townsfolk” wanted to buy them out and build fine homes on the rolling land above the creek. They’d hung on, forcing the town to build north of them on a flatter section. Most had been abandoned by the time James Connor bought the historic district of Glimmer Creek, but they’d been restored now. A few were even available for people who wanted to
try sleeping in a primitive gold miner’s shanty.

  A number of guests had already gathered at the base of the hill, breath fogging as they sipped from paper cups. Cheerful greetings back and forth showed their spirits weren’t dampened by the chilly air. Stacks of hay bales lined the gentle slope, creating a wide channel down to the flatter area below. Spotlights illuminated the scene, along with Christmas lights on the bare branches of the surrounding trees.

  Carlie checked to see if the Forresters had arrived before getting decaf coffee for herself, grateful to wrap her fingers around the warm cup. If Luke and the twins didn’t arrive soon, they might miss the first sprays of snow from the machines. Not that it was actually snow when it came out, but the water droplets froze almost instantly in the frigid air.

  Hurry up, she urged mentally.

  A couple of minutes later she spotted them coming up the lighted path.

  “We’re just about to start,” she called.

  The girls eagerly got cider and cookies and stood at the base of the slope with the other guests. They were just in time. Uncle Liam stood at the top with two large handbells. He raised his arms theatrically and shook them.

  The snowmakers chugged into life, starting at the top of the hill and moving down, spewing white plumes across the grass. The onlookers cheered and someone began singing “Let It Snow.” The others joined in and it was soon followed by “Jingle Bells” and other festive songs.

  There were sixteen snowmakers altogether and they could put out a huge amount of “snow” by morning. In the meantime, the holiday lights sparkled brilliantly against the plumes of white.

  Despite her awareness of Luke Forrester’s brooding presence, Carlie smiled.

  She really loved Christmas.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CARLIE GOT TO Poppy Gold early before six the next morning and went over her to-do list one more time. Her division wasn’t in charge of decorating—they coordinated guest activities—but she still felt responsible for anything that would add to or detract from a visitor’s experience.

  She went upstairs to the ballroom where volunteers and employees had gathered. A cheerful babble of people talking greeted her, along with the scent of coffee and breakfast foods.

  Uncle Liam and Tessa were talking to the supervisors assigned to the teams of decorators. Tessa’s husband was also there. He managed security operations for Poppy Gold and was speaking to his staff, who would keep a careful eye on the buildings as they were decorated. Gabe was a former navy SEAL, so he was fierce about security. Poppy Gold had always felt safe, but with Gabe McKinley on the job, it was probably more secure than Fort Knox.

  Carlie collected a cup of coffee and a bagel and gathered her own team for a chat. They’d already been over the day’s plans, so she mostly wanted to be sure they didn’t have any questions. It was her second Christmas as the activities director, but she was still filled with nervous anticipation.

  Everything had been staged for kickoff day the night before, including putting out the kiosks to be used for treats and setting up the locations where the wreaths and evergreen swags would be made. The equipment and supplies to create and decorate the skating rink had also been moved into position.

  “Okay, everybody,” Tessa called twenty minutes later, clapping her hands. “It’s nearly seven o’clock and some of our guests get out early. Let’s go.”

  Employees and volunteers began streaming through the various doors. Poppy Gold tried to have everyone in position by the time the first guests had finished breakfast, but they never succeeded. Excitement trumped the desire to sleep. Some didn’t even wait to eat breakfast, but that was all right—the treat kiosks would be stocked within the hour.

  Work would also begin on filling the skating rink; it might have been better to set it up the previous evening and let the chilly weather help with the freezing process, but this way visitors could watch. As for the snowmakers on the sledding hill, they’d run all night and would keep going until the temperature rose too high.

  Snow was probably coming out of their ears by now.

  Carlie ate her last bite of bagel and hurried down the main staircase, humming. Yet her festive spirit faltered when she saw Luke Forrester and his daughters in the rotunda. She certainly hoped he was in a better mood this morning.

  “Merry Christmas,” she called. “I hope you didn’t get too cold last night.”

  “It was splendid,” Beth declared while Annie smiled shyly and ducked her head.

  “This is better,” Luke said, glancing around with visible approval. The night registration staff had started decorating after midnight and it was lovely.

  “Thanks. What can I do for you, Mr. Forrester?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Papa, why does Carlie have to call you Mr. Forrester?” Beth interrupted.

  “Uh, she doesn’t.” He focused on Carlie. “That is, please call me Luke. I’m afraid I spilled coffee on our list of activities for today. I came to get another copy.”

  Spilling coffee was such a human thing to do that Carlie grinned. “No problem—we have plenty. Just give me a moment.” She went to the reception desk to fetch another list. She returned and held it out. “Here you go. Annie and Beth may also enjoy seeing how much snow has been made since last night. The temperature is still below freezing, so the machines should be operating.”

  Luke looked down at the cream-colored paper with holly decorating the edges. He appeared more rested than he had the day before, but whether it would have a positive effect on his mood remained to be seen.

  “Just in case, I also got you another copy of the events planned in the next week,” Carlie added, giving him a second sheet. “Those are just the activities that have been scheduled. Other things occur spontaneously.”

  He frowned. “How can the girls join in if we don’t know what’s happening?”

  What part of spontaneous didn’t he understand?

  “Don’t stay in your suite,” she replied. “Go sledding. Come out to the events. Then if something happens, you’ll have a fair chance of getting involved.”

  And don’t spend all your time working, she told him silently.

  After getting home late the night before, she’d researched Luke Forrester on the internet. She’d felt guilty because it had seemed like reading petty gossip, but she’d figured that knowing more might help her deal with the guy. Descriptions like brilliant, decisive and confident had been mixed with less complimentary labels, such as ruthless and arrogant. While she certainly agreed with the arrogant part, he also appeared supremely confident.

  Not surprisingly, numerous pictures of his wife had also popped up and she was as beautiful as Carlie remembered. Society shots showed her in elegant evening gowns and expensive gems, while others were of her in uniform. She’d been stunning, even in military fatigues. Erika Forrester would have intimidated most women, no matter how sound their egos might be...and Carlie’s ego wasn’t particularly sturdy after the way Derek had treated her.

  She glanced at Annie and Beth. In her brief acquaintance with them, she’d noticed they almost seemed disconnected from their father. There were few of the unspoken signals that usually flowed between parent and child. If she’d seen them somewhere and didn’t know the family, she wouldn’t have thought they were related.

  Was it grief?

  Tessa and Uncle Liam had grown even closer when Aunt Meredith died, but Tessa had been an adult. The girls being twins might change things, too.

  Carlie checked the clock on the wall. She needed to be out, circulating through the different areas to be sure how the various activities her staff had planned were going. “Annie, Beth, would you like to start by making paper chains?” she asked encouragingly. “We’re giving prizes for different designs.”

  “Goody,” cried Beth, while Annie nodded.

/>   Carlie led the twins outside, assuming Luke would follow. Poppy Gold was abuzz with activity in the early-morning light. Mother Nature was cooperating when it came to the skating rink and sledding hill. Other than the rain forecast for Monday or Tuesday, the weather was supposed to be dry and unseasonably cold, which was ideal.

  “Some of the kids’ activities are in the concert hall today,” she explained to Luke as they climbed the steps of the hall.

  Only after Annie and Beth had begun work did Luke say something. “Paper chains?” he asked with eyebrows raised.

  “It’s a good holiday craft for young children.”

  “I guess. I just haven’t seen anybody make them since I was a kid.”

  Carlie cocked her head. “Not even your daughters?”

  “No, we have professional decorators. Ordinarily they come on November 30th and do the house inside and out.”

  A wry comment threatened to break through Carlie’s diplomacy, so she pursed her lips and went over to check on Annie.

  * * *

  LUKE FOCUSED ON his daughters as they sorted through containers of colorful paper strips. He appreciated Carlie’s restraint in not pointing out that he’d expected Poppy Gold to be decked out several days before when his own house would have been decorated.

  Christmas music was playing, and despite the early hour, quite a few children were in the room, cheerfully making their chains. Lighted “pine” garland entwined with strings of silver beads and red velvet ribbons had been put up the day before. Each corner of the room had an enormous decorated tree, covered with twinkling lights and ornaments that fit the quaint, historic atmosphere.

  He shifted uncomfortably. What had possessed him to come to California? He didn’t do quaint. He didn’t do charming. He didn’t do cute. Erika hadn’t, either.

  Yet Beth and Annie seemed to enjoy that kind of thing, possibly because of their nanny. Dacia was from Kilrush in Ireland and he sometimes thought he caught the lilt of her accent reflected in his daughters’ voices. When he’d interviewed her for the position, Dacia had announced she didn’t hold with not telling young ones fairy tales, so they should expect her to share the old legends and myths with their girls.