More Than a Tiara: A Christian Romance (Christmas in Montana Romance Book 1)

by Comer,Valerie

  Another contestant’s tree celebrated habitat for humanity with dozens of tiny house ornaments and a garland of nails.

  This trees for charities idea of his dad’s had been genius. But Jase knew he was getting closer and closer to Marisa’s fir. Somehow she’d landed in the back corner, but that wouldn’t matter to the public. The glitz in the front window might pull them into the gallery but once inside, each tree would be given its own chance for the winning votes.

  Marisa did everything with class. Her tree would reflect it, no doubt. He cast a quick glance in her direction, but several people blocked his view of her project. Best to focus on one tree at a time, even though most of the contestants had to realize his heart had been captured by one of them. There was no way he’d leave space for anyone to challenge that his photography was anything less than completely fair.

  A few minutes later he turned, and there it was. And yet, not at all what he’d expected. Dozens of blown-glass vegetables hung from the branches. Red tomatoes, golden corn, branches of broccoli, and deeply purple eggplants. But the crowning touch had to be the miles of pea-green beaded garland winding around and around the tree as a final nod to the CSA’s veggie theme.

  The grin on his face exploded into a chuckle.

  Marisa narrowed her gaze at him.

  “No, really, this is awesome. What a unique idea.”

  Bob stuck his thumbs through his jeans’ belt loops. “Yep. We told her how we wanted this tree done. She was gonna do something ordinary until the CSA board got involved.”

  “It’s like buried treasure.” He caught Marisa’s gaze and held tight. Treasure all right. This was one he wouldn’t release. Not ever again, if he could only convince her that he’d changed.

  “Vegetables?” Avalon slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “What an interesting, if bucolic, idea.”

  Jase stepped away, managing to lose the physical contact. But the connection with Marisa was also gone.

  “Broccoli, ma’am,” said Bob.

  Avalon stared down her nose at the short CSA director. “Pardon me?”

  “It’s pronounced broccoli. Not bucolly or whatever it is you said.”

  “I know what broccoli is, mister.”

  Jase bit his lip to keep from smirking. He’d bet his bottom dollar Bob knew what bucolic was, too.

  Marisa smiled at Avalon. Quite gracious, really, though it didn’t look like the good humor reached her eyes. “This was a fun tree to put together. Who knew vegetables were so popular with artisans, anyway?”

  Avalon’s nose twitched. “Who knew, indeed.” She turned her back to Marisa and tucked her hand under Jase’s elbow again. “Are you nearly done? We could get some lunch at the Mediterranean Grill before the doors open to the public here.”

  “No, thanks.” Jase smiled to soften his words, but there was no way he was getting pulled in. Not when Marisa was right here listening in. Not even if she wasn’t. In fact… “As soon as Marisa is done, she and I are grabbing a bite at The Parrot. And Bob, too, of course.” No need to tell anyone he’d stashed a sandwich in his pocket, just in case she said no.

  Avalon’s thin eyebrows rose. “You’re taking Bob on a date?”

  Bob fussed with his jeans’ waistband. “Yup. Brian makes the best chili.”

  “Well, good luck. All you need is a few beans to change the aroma in this gallery.” In case he’d missed her meaning, Avalon’s fingers fluttered past her nose for an instant.

  But Jase’s eyes slid straight past her to Marisa, eyeing him speculatively. Didn’t matter. Bob agreed, and that was as good as a win with Marisa. Right?

  ~*~

  Marisa set her spoon back in her nearly empty chili bowl. “When were you going to tell me about the Masai documentary?”

  Jase’s startled gaze met hers across the wooden booth. “The what?”

  “Kristen told me.” It’d been eating Marisa since last night. He’d apologized for his part in their fight in Africa. Why hadn’t he gone the extra step and told her what he’d done to atone? Or maybe he hadn’t meant it as redemption. If not, then what?

  “Masai?” Bob wanted to know. “That’s the African necklace thing you wore yesterday, right? Bold statement, that.”

  But Marisa didn’t reply. Just waited for Jase to acknowledge her question. Come up with something. All this stalling had to be for some purpose.

  “I went back a couple of times.” He stared down at his hands, twisting the paper napkin into a tight roll. “To Kenya.”

  As though that had needed explanation. “And?”

  “I wanted to see… needed to figure out what had caught your attention.”

  Swallowing became difficult. Did she even remember what it had all been about? Yes. Those hungry kids. Starving orphans begging on the streets. She wanted to help them, but a meal today would only help for a little while. They needed a food source they could come back to, like a garden. Food they could grow themselves in pots and vacant places. What could have been more important than providing the tools for these kids to feed themselves?

  Jase hadn’t seen that. He’d seen a model high on herself, drawing attention to the orphans to show the world how great she was. That hadn’t been in her thoughts at all. How many nights had she wrestled that demon? Way too many.

  Marisa set her jaw and stared at him across the table. If only Kenya had never happened. If only her memories of JFK were a bad dream. She could really fall for this guy if they didn’t have such a painful history.

  He glanced up then down. “You were right. I was wrong.”

  Bob cleared his throat. “Sounds like you kids need to talk, but they’re opening the doors to the public in under five minutes.”

  Heat burned up Marisa’s neck and flooded her cheeks. How had she forgotten Bob sitting beside her? She fumbled for her purse and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Best be going then.”

  ~*~

  Marisa straightened her slanting tree in its stand. It had been perfectly vertical when she’d left for The Parrot, hadn’t it? And the peas-in-a-pod garland drooped in places she was certain it hadn’t. A swift glance toward Avalon beside her perfect tree by the main door showed an animated contestant speaking to a visitor.

  Let it go. She couldn’t prove anything. Nothing was broken. Nothing had been disrupted that she couldn’t quickly straighten. She could only be thankful Avalon hadn’t been alone in the gallery. No doubt if she had, some of the fragile glass ornaments would be broken. Accidentally, of course.

  “Marisa! Your tree looks great.” Kristen stepped into Marisa’s field of vision. “So unique.”

  “Thanks.” Marisa wrenched her gaze from Avalon and smiled at her friend. Imagine that. Jase’s sister was her friend. “The folks from the CSA made all the decisions of what to buy for it. I think it turned out pretty well.” Unique was a nice word for it, but hey, why not stand out? There was only so much of being like everyone else that she could handle. It had never been her way.

  “What happens to the trees afterward?” she asked Kristen. “Are they being auctioned off for charity?”

  Kristen grimaced and shook her head. “We thought about that, but the timing isn’t the greatest with the voting ending on Christmas Eve. Everyone already has trees by that time, so why bid then? There’s really no time even to fit in an auction that afternoon.”

  “I can see the problem. Too bad.”

  “So everyone needs to take time on the twenty-sixth to come box up their ornaments. I know it’s busy, but it’s the reality of having a Christmas pageant.”

  Marisa nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” It would be just her and Mom at home. Unless Bob came by. Or how about Jase? “What happens to the trees themselves?”

  Kristen stared at her blankly and gave a weak laugh. “I hadn’t thought that far yet.”

  “If you don’t have a better plan, why not let Bob come by and pick them up? He’d be happy to chip them for mulch, I’m sure.”

  “What a gre
at idea.”

  Kristen turned away and, through the open doorway, Marisa watched Jase cross the walking mall as a little boy Davy’s age tugged on his jacket. Jase immediately crouched to talk to the kid eye-to-eye. A moment later he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out something wrapped in plastic wrap. A sandwich? The little guy accepted it and beamed before scampering off.

  Jase. Maybe he had changed. Really changed. Once this pageant was over, win or lose, she’d pin him down and get the whole story out of him. And find out where his heart lived now.

  Only a few more days of insanity.

  CHAPTER 14

  She’d skied at Divide dozens — maybe hundreds — of times as a teen, but hadn’t ever aspired to taking the sport further. Today’s crisp air swirled with fluffy snowflakes as though God’s feather pillow sported a hole. The fresh snow muffled the sounds of the hill. The chair lift clanged in the distance, and an occasional shout of glee echoed into the area near the lodge.

  Even the twenty contestants seemed more subdued than usual. Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the go-go-go pressure of the pageant getting to everyone. Three more days. Marisa could endure three more days.

  “I feel like an imposter.”

  Marisa glanced at her roommate. Kristen wasn’t the only solid friend she’d made this week. Diana certainly counted as well. “How come?”

  Diana flashed a grin. “I haven’t skied a day in my life.”

  “Once the photo shoot is over, I’ll take you to the top of the bunny hill and give you a lesson.”

  Diana stepped back and raised both hands in mock horror. “Ha. No, you won’t. We have our next event in just a few hours, and the bus won’t wait.”

  “Come back next week and we’ll do it then.”

  “So generous of you. But no. Even this great outfit from Capital Sports can’t make me look like I belong up here.”

  “Because of your color?” Marisa had seen African-Americans on the slopes. Not many, in Montana, but certainly some.

  Diana wrinkled her nose. “No, silly. Because it takes more than playing dress-up to make someone into something she’s not.”

  “Sounds like it won’t be much consolation, but the lime green ski jacket really pops off your complexion.”

  “I hate to say it, but you are practically camouflaged in that white.” Diana winked. “And not because of your skin color, either.”

  Marisa laughed. “Too true. My sponsor didn’t think about the fact there’d be nothing but snow up here. Go figure. It’s a ski hill, right? They should be hoping for snow.”

  Sure, she’d had a bit of say in which outfit had been loaned her. Normally all white wouldn’t have been her choice, but the blazing purple scarf and mitts had sucked her into it.

  “Over here, everyone!” Kristen called out. “Set your coffee and snacks down on the table and let’s get some group shots before going to individuals.”

  Marisa shifted away from the table as several of the girls approached with Styrofoam cups and protein bars. She took one last sip of her mocha just as something rammed into her back.

  Hot brown liquid sloshed down the front of her white ski jacket. She stared, frozen in time, as rivulets drizzled down.

  “Hey, be more careful!” Diana’s voice rang out. She pressed a stack of paper napkins into Marisa’s hand.

  “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry.”

  Avalon? Marisa should have known.

  “You stepped back into my path as I was about to go around you.”

  Great. She probably had a coffee splash down her back to match the front.

  “Didn’t look like it to me,” Diana growled. “Your elbow swung out to get her in the back.”

  “I slipped on the ice.” Avalon peered at the front of Marisa’s jacket. “I’m so sorry. I do hope that won’t stain.”

  Did anyone besides her and Diana hear the falseness in Avalon’s voice? Marisa bit back all the things she really wanted to say. What was more important? Looking good in front of the group? Teaching Avalon a lesson? Or keeping her cool and allowing God to decide the outcome?

  I choose door number three.

  Barely. Marisa smiled at Avalon, trying to make it a real smile. “I hope it doesn’t stain, either.” Because it looked like she’d just bought herself an expensive white ski outfit. Really practical for someone who rarely skied and who dreamed of returning to African soil.

  Avalon smirked and set her cup on the table before strutting away to the group rendezvous area.

  Diana stared after her. “She did that on purpose.”

  Paper napkins were no match for a splash of mocha on a white jacket, even with a handful of snow to try to dilute the stain. “Maybe,” Marisa allowed.

  “Maybe? She’s out-of-control jealous of you. Everything you say or do, she belittles.”

  If Diana only knew. Marisa clenched her jaw. No, she wasn’t going there.

  “Diana? Marisa? We’re waiting,” Kristen called.

  Marisa turned to the gathering group and held her head up high, daring anyone to comment. From the back row, Avalon smirked and brushed her streaked blond hair over her shoulder. Perfectly put together, as always.

  Gasps came from the group. Tabitha’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, and she wasn’t the only one.

  “Oh, no! What happened?” Kristen strode closer, but she slipped on the ice and her feet shot out from under her, clipboard and pen flying in different directions.

  Marisa gritted her teeth against blurting out, “Avalon happened.” Even though it was true, it wasn’t in her best interests to announce it. “It was an accident.”

  Diana muffled a snort as she picked up Kristen’s scattered implements.

  “Are you okay?” Marisa helped Kristen back to her feet. “That looks like it must’ve hurt.”

  Kristen rubbed her backside. “Nothing wounded but my pride.” She glanced over her shoulder at the waiting group then lowered her voice. “You?”

  Marisa held her friend’s gaze. “Same. I can’t believe I was that clumsy.” Or dumb enough to let Avalon get behind her without noticing.

  “I can’t believe it, either.” Kristen raised her eyebrows.

  Marisa shook her head slightly. So not going there. “If you stick me in the back row, the stain won’t show.”

  “Sure, find a spot. We’ll figure out something for the individual shots.”

  Jase. She’d nearly forgotten about him. Marisa raised her chin a little. If he backed away from her because of the clumsy story then he wasn’t worth wasting her dreams on.

  And, exhausted as she was every single night of this competition, her dreams took her to the Kenyan beach every time she lay down. They stood, bare toes burrowed in the warm sand, a sea-laden breeze wafting over them. She felt his arms around her, holding her close, and the soft cotton of his favorite casual shirt under her arms and cheek. His kisses on her hair, her forehead. Her lips.

  She blinked.

  Jase stood in front of her.

  ~*~

  He’d seen the whole thing from fifty feet away, where he’d been talking to one of the guys from the ski rental shop, from the smirk on Avalon’s face as she came up behind Marisa clear through to the end result.

  And Marisa said she’d been clumsy? That it had been an accident? Not a chance.

  He looked deep into her eyes, his mouth open to announce what he’d seen.

  Kristen put a hand on his arm. “Time to start taking photos, Jase. We’ve got less than two hours before the bus returns us to Helena.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll deal with this later.”

  He glanced at his sister and back at Marisa. “But that snowsuit is ruined, and it was no accident.”

  “I know it. You know it. Marisa knows it. But we don’t have time.”

  “Can you kick Avalon out of competition?”

  Marisa’s cheeks blanched.

  Kristen’s grip on his arm tightened. “Jason Mackie, your job is to take photos. Now get ov
er there and finish setting up.”

  The little brother in him surged up a desire to rebel, but the expression on Marisa’s face stopped him cold. “This isn’t over.” He turned toward the table holding his camera gear. Good thing no one had dumped coffee on it.

  Marisa joined the waiting group while Kristen consulted her clipboard and Jase checked his light meter and took a few test shots.

  “Ready?”

  The women nodded and smiled. A few called out an affirmative.

  “Let’s get started.” By shifting half a step to his left, Diana’s shoulder blocked the stain on Marisa’s jacket. No problem. If anything showed when he zoomed in, he’d edit it out. The public would never know what happened.

  A few minutes later, he started on the individuals. Somehow Avalon moved to the front of the line in her caramel-colored outfit. She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes glimmering behind the mascara.

  Once he’d thought that look was reserved for him. That it meant some kind of affection. Now he recognized it as the expression reserved for when she was smugly proud of herself.

  With Kristen at his elbow, he couldn’t trust himself to say anything to Avalon beyond the requirements to get her photos done.

  She pirouetted, gave him saucy grins, fluttered her eyelashes, and tossed him more than one coy look.

  If she thought that’s all it would take to lure him in, she had another think coming. A whole bunch of more thinks.

  Jase dismissed her with a curt nod and glanced to see who was next, but a hand on his sleeve stilled him. He turned back to see Avalon with a wistful smile, as though he were simply blind to her charms. She didn’t have any. It wasn’t that he was blind to them. “Yes?”

  She leaned in closer and pressed her lips to his.

  Jase stumbled back then fixed her with a glare. “That was uncalled for.”

  Avalon winked, blew him another one, and sashayed away.

  “She’s got a lot of gall,” Kristen said. “I don’t mean to make it sound like no one could be attracted to you, little brother, but why is she so fixated?”