by Rowan Nash
Winter Wishes
Rowan Nash
Copyright © 2019 by Rowan Nash All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
These stories were previously published under another pen name. They have been updated, given different covers, and have been republished for you to enjoy during the holiday season and all year round.
Rowan Nash-- Holidays. Hot guys. And happily ever afters.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
Coming Soon!
1
CALEB
Even before the door opened, he could hear her calling his name. Her singsong voice chimed along with the antique bells attached to the door of his gift shop.
“Ca-leb. Ca-leb.”
“Mrs. Rousch, hello. What can I help you with today?” Caleb stepped from behind the counter where he’d been wrapping a gift to send anonymously to his five-year-old nephew. His sister would know it was from him but hopefully, would still allow the gesture regardless of their strained relationship.
She scuttled around the shop, placing items into his arms as he followed, then jerked to a halt. She spun to Caleb with wide eyes and a devilish smirk that he’d only started to realize could manipulate him easily, but for her, he’d do almost anything.
“Oh, Caleb dear, before I forget, my great niece, Molly, is coming into town today and…” The plucky lady, stuffed into one of those marshmallow-looking winter coats, continued rambling in small talk about the wonders that were this Molly, but it was clear to him what was coming next. And the request certainly wasn’t help in finding the right gift for Molly, because Mrs. Rousch was a gift-giving wizard.
What was coming… was the setup. The standard declaration went like this. First, the innocuous mention of a single female. Second, the indication that said female was available for pursuing and in desperate need of a life companion, often with a dramatic roll of the eyes and a shake of the head, and occasionally, a lift of the shoulders and sigh in acknowledgment. Third, asking Caleb’s availability, meaning his time to be at Molly’s disposal, not his dating status. And finally, the proposal closer: As a favor to me, would you be willing to attend this, that, or the other with her, Caleb? All with a bat of the eyelashes and a head tipped in question.
Over the last three years, these events had ranged from weddings to movies to family reunions to funerals. That last one was the most uncomfortable. Date to a funeral? He shook his head at the memory. He’d done his best to be supportive, but he didn’t know who Uncle Jerry was and the young woman seemed more at peace with his death than Caleb was. That was a low point.
A very low point.
But Caleb never turned someone down who was in need, especially not Mrs. Rousch. This year had been a barrage of some well-meaning Red Hat Society maven in Cold Spring, New York arranging about half his weekends. They all had good intentions, but those intentions were extremely misguided and wholly unsuccessful.
Mrs. Rousch explained that the event was a holiday gathering Friday night of local white-collar VIPs to gift sick and needy kids. The invitation made the affair sound like a stiff cotillion or ballroom fête from the 1800s, not a party to celebrate the holiday season. The supposed fun included: Caleb, his date—a female stranger of twenty-four years old (with sparkling raven hair and dancing grey-blue eyes, which was Mrs. Rousch’s inventive description, not his), a room full of people—some he would know from owning the store, and Mrs. Rousch, a regular customer who he probably knew a little too well. Gout. Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Colitis. The woman was a barely-able-to-walk, bathroom time bomb, but that level of intimate knowledge was part of the job. Small town. Small business. Getting to know people was Rule Number One. And those in their later years tended to share way more than needed.
Puttering around the store, she finished selecting items for people still on her list, and the list always seemed to multiply the closer to Christmas. Buying for the locals less fortunate than her family, Mrs. and Dr. Rousch had blessed not only the kids who received the gifts, but also Caleb and his business when a financially rough first year hit. Her substantial last-minute purchase saved his shop from going under three years ago.
I owe her so much more than an evening of companionship with her great niece.
He placed the overflowing shopping bags into her car and rubbed his hands together. The winter had been a rough one and the forecast didn’t look good well into the future.
“Looking forward to tomorrow night, Mrs. Rousch.”
“Sweetie, Molly will adore you.” She clapped her hands together and then sighed. “I know it’ll be love at first sight.”
“It’s just a friendly night between two adults. No dreaming of weddings and babies, please.”
She waved the air like she was brushing away her expectations, but Caleb knew better. “Oh, let an old lady dream of young love, but I’ll just let nature take its course.”
Right. Well, my nature has a different course.
He stepped away from her Cadillac. Evie Knievel was her nickname. When she fishtailed on a rocket-like takeoff down the snow-packed street, he was thankful it was late in the evening and the majority of businesses were closed.
Caleb now had a “date” in the most unconventional sense. As he walked back inside, he ran a hand through his hair to brush the large snowflakes away and locked the door behind him, spinning the handmade “Open/Closed” sign and turning off the lights in the front window display. He’d given his customers longer hours to shop this week, but today was his last day open until after New Year’s. Caleb would be spending my holiday wrapped up in a blanket with a good book and hot cocoa on his sofa, then taking a hard-earned and well-needed trip into NYC to watch the ball drop for New Year’s Eve. Alone, just like last year. But this year he wasn’t sad about it. He was… resigned.
He walked through the store, straightening the shelves. For a room filled with hundreds of gifts waiting to find a home, it still felt like something was missing.
As he rounded the corner into the kitchen and outdoor cooking aisle, he made a decision to come clean at the party; it was time. The community’s most prominent names would be there, many were his repeat customers. Once Caleb made his announcement, they could discuss his fate amongst themselves, and soon he’d be almost sixty miles away in the City to escape.
He’d been here before. His own family had indicated their displeasure with his life and shut him out. It hurt, but he wanted to believe someday they would come around. Whatever the community’s opinion, Caleb would prepare for the fallout for when he returned. But with a business, there was little room for losing customers and he didn’t know if his heart could take the pain of not being accepted again.
I never believe in miracles, but in this instance, I still wish for one.
2
REEVE
“You can’t be serious.” Reeve’s twin sister’s eyes bugged from her head. “Reeve, she’s set me up with someone for tonight’s party. A little help with rational argument here?” she mumbled under her breath as she walked behind him.
Reeve chuckled at the interaction between Molly and their aunt, Evie. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but teasing his sister never failed to amuse him, so he chose to go an alternate route from her request.
“I’m sure you’re gonna be one lucky girl tonight, sis.” He emphasized “lucky girl” with a wag of his eyebrows.
“Bro, you’re not helping,” Molly uttered in his ear before punching his bicep and plopping onto a stool next to him in the massive, commercial-quality metal and stone kitchen.
Reeve rubbed his arm. For being petite and compact, she had power behind her punch. “I know, but it’s highly amusing and I needed a good laugh.”
Aunt Evie pulled a sheet of cookies from the oven. “I can just see the two of you now. His light blond hair and wintergreen eyes and your onyx hair and silvery-blue eyes… oh, the babies would be beautiful. And with his impeccable manners and business acumen, those babies would be Harvard-bound before sperm met ova.”
Reeve burst out laughing. Their aunt had a way with words… and wishes. She was known for her matchmaking prowess, but thankfully, he’d yet to be a victim. Molly was a constant target, however.
His sister punched him again but quickly turned her wrath back to their aunt. “Wow, we haven’t even met and you’re planning on us having a litter of what sounds like highly-intelligent skunk babies!” Molly threw her arms into the air. “This is ridiculous and I want no part of it!” She started to climb down off her stool but paused. “Why only me and not Reeve?”
Aunt Evie tossed threadbare, well-loved oven mitts onto the granite counter next to the oven and turned toward them. “Oh, don’t worry. I have my eyes open to find Reeve a special someone, too.” She narrowed her gaze at Reeve. “That last boyfriend of yours threw off my matchmaking mojo.” Her face lit up again. “But this guy is perfect for you, Molly, and it’s time you start thinking about your future.”
“Which doesn’t have to include a man,” his sister retorted firmly.
“I agree, it doesn’t have to include one, but it’s comforting to have someone to lean on for emotional support. It’s a blessing. I know because I have your Uncle Teddy. You have Reeve and you’ll always have me, not that I’ll be around forever, but you might consider having someone who fills in the other cracks in your life. After your parents’ accident, it’d be good to have someone to share your happy days, and then again, someone to tell your secrets to and discuss your bad days with. Moving on is what your parents would have wanted.”
Then like a verbal grenade had gone off, his sister froze. Then watching my sister’s abrupt reaction, his aunt stop moving and talking. Then Reeve stiffened, every moment in a domino effect. It had only been a year since their mother and father had died while on route home from the same party their aunt had insisted on throwing again this year. Aunt Evie faced death in her own way, limping forward each day, but she was right—Molly had good days and really bad days.
Today is the latter and I still don’t know what to say.
Reeve wrapped an arm around Molly and kissed her temple as a few teardrops dampened her cheeks. “Sis, I know it’s still hard.”
“I miss them so much.” The words flowed from his sister, but they sounded like a ghost could have said them.
Like Mom.
He rubbed her back as she nuzzled into him. “I bet they miss us, too.”
“I hope not. I hate thinking they suffered in death and now they still suffer.”
Aunt Evie enveloped her arms around them. “I wish I could change everything for you both. Life can be so unfair. Sometimes all I want is to wrap myself in a fluffy blanket and hide under my covers in bed.”
Their aunt had never admitted being overwhelmed by anything. Draping an arm around her back, Reeve found his sister’s already there. He turned so he could wrap his other one around his sister in a three-way locked embrace. Molly’s hiccupping sobs slowed. He missed their parents, too, but he wished for them to be safe, and he figured there was no safer place than Heaven.
Best to move on and support my sister.
After the two most important women in his life had calmed, Reeve kissed each on the temple and backed away. Molly excused herself to the restroom.
He reached the front door, quickly, needing a little time away. “I’m going to head to the mall to finish up my shopping.”
Reeve wasn’t a big fan of the whole hoopla of Christmas that often centered on gift giving, but Aunt Evie was, so he went along with it. She and Uncle Teddy were all they had left when it came to family.
Aunt Evie followed, her orthopedic shoes squeaking a frantic pace on the wood floor. “You don’t want to go to that mall. You’ll spend more time looking for a parking place than actually shopping. You should visit this little shop downtown. The owner has exceptional gifts and something for everyone’s taste.” She handed Reeve a business card that read, “The Gift Horse: Unique, Quality Gifts Worth Appreciating”, and an address that wasn’t very far.
He wasn’t great at picking the right gift. His style was gift cards. But if he knew one thing, it was that Mrs. Evelyn Rose Rousch got her way, and if Reeve didn’t say yes, she’d drive him there and that wasn’t going to happen. Evie Knievel’s driving was heart attack inducing on clear and dry roads. With the current conditions, his Uncle Teddy had a tow truck on call to pull Aunt Evie from the myriad of snow-related disasters she found herself in.
“All right, I’ll go take a look.”
She clapped her hands together, then reached up and guided his cheek to her lips for a peck. The woman had nice wrapped up in a perfect package.
“I know you’ll find something you’ll want for yourself, so just put it on my account.”
Reeve would’ve argued, but he needed to get some fresh air. He smiled and slipped out the front door.
I don’t need anything today except a little time and space for reflection.
Reeve sat in his car, staring at the outside of a store that didn’t look like anything he would ever enter. The right adjective didn’t exist. The window display balanced feminine and masculine, with welcoming and yet distinguishing. The colors the owner used weren’t clichéd berry red and holly green. Still the shades were evocative of the season—cool icy blue and warm gold.
It was inviting, but there were two big problems—the “Closed” sign and the large piece of paper taped to the door indicating that yesterday was the last open day until January 5th. Obviously, his aunt missed that information in her quest to buy everyone in Cold Spring a gift.
Her heart is as big as her Cadillac.
The convenience store up the street seemed a viable alternative to avoid the mall. While Reeve imagined the amusement of handing over a box of condoms and a dozen frozen burritos to Molly, there was movement in the store and a small light came on near the register. Could be the owner or a burglar? Either way, he needed gifts, and hopefully, whichever it was would let him in to tensely stare at the racks of product, failing boldly to match a gift with a person.
Condoms and burritos or something more?
At the door, he watched a man in his early twenties scooping items into his toned arms and transporting them back to the register, then wrapping each in almost less time than it took Reeve to blink. Reeve tapped on the door and the man jumped.
“Sorry!” He called through the door while giving a friendly wave.
Reeve froze as green eyes connected to his and they maintained the eye contact until the man opened the door, scanning the streets.
“Hello. Can I help you?” he asked over the traditional Christmas music that floated from the room.
The blond hair, the green eyes, the bright smile… it took real effort to snap out of the holiday fantasy playing in Reeve’s head, proving he did have a creative side, it just didn’t relate to gift giving.
He pinched himself through his pea coat and mumbled, “Evie Rousch sent me to finish…well, actually that’s not right, to start and finish my shopping.”
“That was nice of her. Evie’s one of my best customers. You’re welcome to come in and look around. I was just finishing up some last-minute shopping myself.” He backed from the door and signaled Reeve to step inside.
Reeve didn’t want to be a hassle and contemplated bowing out, but something in the way his smile lifted his cheeks into two flawless an
d tempting dimples prompted Reeve’s legs to move him into the building.
The man turned a knob on the wall behind the counter and the music settled to a conversational level. “Sorry, I turned the heat down to save on energy costs. Would you like a cup of spiced cider to stay warm?”
“That’d be great.” Reeve slipped off his heavy wool coat and hung it on the stand by the door. The temperature was frosty, even in his heavy-gauge cable knit sweater he shivered. He rubbed his hands together and started on a quest that likely wouldn’t produce anything but frustration.
From across the room, Reeve observed intently as the gift shop owner filled a mug, pouring the cider from an insulated coffee carafe. He carried the steaming cup across the room. “I’m Caleb Gilden, owner.” He held out his unoccupied hand for a shake.
Reeve chuckled as he slipped his hand into Caleb’s. “Reeve Rousch. Nice to meet you, Caleb.” The man’s palm was warm from holding the cup or maybe because he was warmhearted. Either way, Reeve enjoyed the heat.
“Your hand is freezing.” Caleb’s long fingers wrapped Reeve’s hand around the cup.
Reeve’s heart ticked in time with the wall of expensive, handmade clocks. “Did you turn the heat up?” rumbled from his chest.
“No, but I can.” His hand still pressed Reeve’s against the warm mug.
I think you just did.
His body warmed past the temperature of the cider-filled mug. “Not necessary, just felt warmer. Must be body heat.” Reeve skimmed Caleb’s face with his eyes to see if there was any sign of what he wanted to be true.
Caleb dropped their cupped hands and slid back a step. “What can I help you find today?”