Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance

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Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance Page 15

by RaeAnne Thayne


  “I don’t mind,” he said.

  “I appreciate that, but the rest of the decorations don’t have to go up today. I’m feeling much better, and I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be back to normal and we can finish all the festifying.”

  She seemed quite determined to send him on his way. Was it his help in particular she didn’t want or would she react the same way if, say, somebody from the Helping Hands were to stop by and offer to decorate her tree?

  The memory of that kiss the week before that he couldn’t shake from his memory seemed to swirl between them. Did she remember it, too? Was that why she wanted him gone?

  As he was quite sure he couldn’t change her mind, he decided to gracefully exit. “Is there anything else you need before I take off?”

  “I don’t think so. Thank you.”

  “Do you have to go?” Though Davy was the one who spoke, Jamie saw a matching look of disappointment on Clint’s features.

  She spoke up before he could. “Guys, Jamie has been here since last night. He’s hardly had five minutes in his own apartment since he came back to town yesterday. Let’s give the guy a little break.”

  He didn’t really need a break, but he didn’t want to argue with her.

  “Once we finish decorating the tree, we can invite him down to take a look at it,” she added.

  The boys’ disappointment was gratifying, he had to admit. It was nice to know at least some of the downstairs neighbors wanted him around.

  “I can’t wait to see it,” he said truthfully. “You two be good and let Julia rest this afternoon, okay?”

  The boys nodded, though they still looked dejected.

  “Thanks for taking us to get the tree and helping us put on the lights and stuff,” Clint said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Davy said. To Jamie’s surprise, the boy threw his arms around his waist.

  “You’re welcome.” Touched to his core, he patted the boy’s head a little awkwardly. He had long ago decided kids weren’t for him, for many strong and compelling reasons. Once in a while that decision left him with a hollow ache in his chest.

  “I’ll see you guys later.”

  With a final wave, he let himself out and headed up the stairs, wondering why the prospect of a free afternoon suddenly held so little appeal.

  * * *

  BY THE MIDDLE of the following week, the bug that had knocked Julia to her knees seemed to have moved on to torment somebody else, much to her relief. She still had a tendency to tire easily but no longer felt as if she’d been run over by one of the notoriously sloppy Haven Point garbage trucks.

  She felt good enough to throw together some white chicken chili before she left for the library. The Haven Point Helping Hands were set to gather for one of their lunchtime work parties at McKenzie Kilpatrick’s store. Whenever they met, Julia liked to add the ingredients for soup to her slow cooker in the morning before work, then take it with her to the library. There, she could plug it in to further meld the flavors before the lunch work party.

  As she was finishing up in the kitchen, she sensed movement outside the window and looked out to find Jamie with a snow shovel in his hand. He had cleared her driveway both times it had snowed in the last week, and she had also seen him help some of the neighbors with their snow removal.

  She was finding it increasingly difficult to resist the man. How was she going to make it through another month of him living upstairs?

  On impulse, she found a disposable container and filled it with soup from the slow cooker, snapping the lid closed just as she heard the front door open. She grabbed it and hurried out to open the door into their shared entry.

  Snowflakes melted on his eyelashes and hair, and she did her best to ignore how everything inside her seemed to shiver when his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

  “Hi.”

  She gestured outside. “When I agreed to rent you the apartment upstairs, I had no idea you would be so handy to have around.”

  He gave her a wolfish sort of smile. “That’s what all the girls say.”

  Heat soaked her cheeks, which mortified her. In reaction, she put on her most prim voice. “Don’t you know you should wear a hat in this kind of weather?”

  His eyes danced with amusement. “Yes, Miss Winston.”

  She sounded like a cranky schoolmarm, but couldn’t seem to hold back the words. “It’s scientific fact. You can lose up to fifty percent of your body heat if your head is uncovered, since you have little subcutaneous fat for insulation there.”

  “So all those times my brothers called me fathead, they were completely in the wrong.”

  “Yes—if you want to take the term literally.”

  He laughed. “I’ll tell them next time—while I’m wearing my warmest hat. Thanks for the reminder.”

  She felt extremely foolish and wondered for a few seconds why she had come out into the hall, until her gaze caught the container in her hand. “Oh. This is for you.”

  She held it out. “It’s white bean chili, really good on a snowy day like today. You’ll want to heat it on the stove for about twenty minutes to soften the vegetables.”

  His expression registered his surprise. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

  “It’s the least I could do, after all you did with the boys over the weekend, picking out my Christmas tree, then shoveling the walks the last two days. I owe you far more than a bowl of chili.” It seemed ridiculously inadequate.

  “You don’t owe me anything—though now that you mention it, I could use a favor.”

  Jamie Caine struck her as someone who never liked asking for help. All the more reason to be pleased that he had asked her. “Of course,” she said promptly. “What can I do?”

  He made a face. “I promised Spence and Charlotte I would go to this gala for their Warriors of Hope charity on Saturday night in Hope’s Crossing. I need a date.”

  His words took several seconds to register. She heard gala, charity, Hope’s Crossing and date as if in one big blur. “A...date. In Colorado. I don’t understand. Do you need me to help find you a date?”

  His eyes opened wide, and then he laughed, low and irresistibly. “I would like you to go with me. You would be my date, Julia.”

  Before she could soak in that shock, he hurried on. “You don’t have to worry about the boys. I was thinking they could fly out with us. They’ll probably enjoy another airplane ride, won’t they?”

  “Uhhh.” It was the most intelligent thing she could come up with in that particular moment.

  He went on as if he hadn’t heard her brainless utterance. “The gala is Saturday night. I’m supposed to fly Aidan and Eliza and Ben and McKenzie out on Friday night. Aidan has booked all the rooms at Wild Iris Ridge—that’s the B and B that Lucy and Brendan operate. Lucy insists she knows a reputable babysitter who can handle all the kids, which I think would be great.”

  What was happening here? All she’d intended when she walked out into the hallway was to hand the man a container of soup. Now she was confronting a totally unexpected invitation.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “The boys really hit it off with Carter and Faith and Maddie over Thanksgiving. I’m sure they’d all love to spend a little more time together.”

  “No, I mean, why me for your date?”

  He looked genuinely shocked at the question. “What do you mean? Why not you?”

  She could think of a dozen reasons, starting with the fact that she had absolutely nothing to wear to a fancy charity gala that would probably involve professional athletes, business tycoons and movie stars.

  “It might have escaped your notice, but I’m not one of your glamorous, skinny model types.”

  Far from it. She was a socially awkward, introverted librarian who was usually happiest at home wi
th a book in her hands, surrounded by her mother’s cats, even when they barely tolerated her.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, and she had the oddest feeling she might have offended him somehow.

  “I don’t have a glamorous, skinny model type. I like all kinds of women, remember? Including you. I like spending time with you, and I thought you and the boys might enjoy a little weekend outing. Hope’s Crossing has tons of things to do this time of year.”

  He gave her a persuasive smile that no woman in her right mind could resist. “It will be fun, Julia. Trust me. Good food, enjoyable company, maybe a little dancing. Last year I went by myself, and I thought it would be much more fun this year to go with a...friend.”

  Was that how he saw their relationship? At least they had that.

  “I don’t...” she began, not sure what she even intended to say.

  “You’ll have plenty of friends there. My family already adores you and the boys. They’ll love seeing you all again.”

  The thought of his family quieted some of the panic. She did enjoy the Caines, and it would be lovely to see them all again.

  She had resolved before Thanksgiving to embrace life a little more instead of hiding away alone here at Winston House. A gorgeous guy wanted to fly her in his private jet to a glamorous gala in a Colorado ski resort town. How could she possibly say no?

  Still, her refusal crowded her throat, ready to spill out. It was too much, too soon, like dousing a slightly thirsty person with a fire hose of excitement.

  Jamie must have sensed her conflicted feelings.

  “You don’t have to answer me right now,” he said quickly. “Think about it, and I’ll check in with you later tonight.”

  Think about it. As if she would be able to focus on anything else all day!

  “Yes. I...okay. Thank you.”

  “And thank you for the soup. It will be just the thing for my lunch.”

  She nodded, then retreated to the sanctuary of her apartment.

  * * *

  AS JULIA EXPECTED, she could think of little else but Jamie’s shocking invitation throughout the morning as she input new items into the library computer system.

  Why would he ask her? And how could she find the courage to accept? On a theoretical level, she wanted to try new things, taste all the adventures she had missed out on over the last decade of caring for her parents.

  Theory and reality were very different.

  She couldn’t even drive her Lexus above fifty miles an hour. How was she going to jump on a private jet with Jamie Caine and attend a gala with a bunch of strangers?

  She still hadn’t made up her mind when the time came for her to leave for the Helping Hands potluck lunch at McKenzie’s flower and gift shop.

  “Thank you for filling in over lunch,” she said to Mack Porter, her favorite clerk.

  “I’ve been well paid by your chili,” he said in his sonorous voice that always made her think he should have had a career as a public radio announcer.

  Through her anxiety, she managed a smile, then carried her slow cooker of soup out to her vehicle for the short drive.

  A light snowfall fluttered down like powdered sugar sifted on cake. After she found a parking spot, she enjoyed the quiet ordinariness of the small Haven Point downtown on an early December afternoon.

  Inside the shop, the scene was much more chaotic, as the Helping Hands were busy preparing items to be sold at their booth during the Haven Point annual Lights on the Lake festival. All proceeds from the sale of their gifts and crafts went to a designated cause. This year it was the county battered women’s shelter.

  A chorus of greetings met her, and she felt some of her tension trickle away. This was her tribe, her dear friends, who always made her feel as if she belonged.

  The typical routine of one of these potluck lunches was to get the work out of the way first, then eat, so she found an open outlet for her slow cooker, then an empty chair for herself next to Eppie and Hazel, and went to work tying ribbons for gift bags.

  This was just what she needed, she thought, as she listened to the chatter around her. She was most comfortable listening to others talk and offering the occasional well-timed comment. She was able to put her dilemma completely out of her head while they worked together for a common goal—until the actual lunch part of the day, anyway.

  When she was ladling some of Barbara Serrano’s delicious zuppa tuscana into a bowl, Eliza Caine came up behind her in line.

  “I understand you might be joining us this weekend in Hope’s Crossing,” Eliza said, beaming.

  All the anxiety she had been trying to shove down seemed to bubble back to the surface. “How did you... Did Jamie tell you that?”

  Eliza shrugged. “He told me earlier in the week he was thinking about asking you and the boys along. I saw him this morning and asked him about it, and he said you were still considering.”

  “Yes,” she said, feeling cornered.

  “I do hope you say yes. It’s always a lovely evening. My sister-in-law Genevieve plans all the events for the Warriors of Hope, and she throws an amazing party. I’m sure this year will be no different, though she’s seven months pregnant. You can count on fantastic food and interesting company—and it’s for a great cause. I’m sure Jamie told you all about it.”

  “Not really. He only mentioned the whole thing this morning in passing.”

  “You know Spence and Charlotte, right?”

  One didn’t forget meeting Smokin’ Hot Spence Gregory, who was even more good-looking than he’d been during his Major League Baseball career.

  “I do.”

  “They run an organization in Hope’s Crossing called the Warriors of Hope, where wounded military members can spend a week in the mountains doing recreational therapy, having fun, spending time with their families. They’re doing great things. Every time Aidan and I participate in a fund-raiser or event, I end up in tears somehow when I see the amazing courage of their clients and hear some of their stories about how much the organization has helped them reconnect with nature and their families. Well, you’ll see this weekend.”

  “Ben and I went last year, and it was wonderful,” McKenzie chimed in. “I’ve been looking forward to this gala all year long. I’m so happy Jamie had the good sense to invite you.”

  “Same here,” Eliza said. “Usually he goes by himself. I was thrilled when he told me he wanted you to come with us. This is going to be so much fun.”

  Neither of them seemed at all surprised by Jamie’s choice of a date, but Julia knew that was only because they loved her. If they looked at things logically, surely they would understand he’d made a terrible mistake.

  “I haven’t decided if I’m going yet,” she mumbled.

  McKenzie stared at her. “You have to! Oh, Jules. Why would there even be a question?”

  Again, she could come up with a hundred reasons. Most of them she couldn’t articulate, so she focused on what was probably the least of them.

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” she finally said. “What’s appropriate for the Haven Point Library would probably look out of place at a fancy charity gala.”

  Eliza and McKenzie both looked startled, as if that possibility hadn’t even occurred to them. Of course it hadn’t. They were both married to fabulously wealthy men and probably attended this sort of event all the time.

  After a moment, Eliza beamed. “If that’s the only objection you’ve got, you’re in luck. I’ve got tons of cocktail dresses I’ve had to buy since I married Aidan—some I’ve never even worn. We’re roughly the same size. I’m sure we can find you something perfect. I’ll look through my closet and find you several to choose from.”

  “Make sure you include that gorgeous mauve silk I made you last Christmas,” Samantha Fremont said. “The coloring would be pe
rfect on Julia.”

  “Oh, you’re right!” Eliza exclaimed. “And I never wore it because I was breast-feeding and was afraid Liam wouldn’t be able to, er, get to the goods. I’ll definitely take that one over tonight, along with two or three others I know you’ll love.”

  Eliza was as persuasive as her brother-in-law. Julia was grateful for good friends, even when their loyalty was misguided.

  “That is very kind. But even the most beautiful dress can’t disguise the fact that I won’t belong there.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” McKenzie exclaimed. “Why won’t you?”

  She sighed. “Why did he ask me? There are so many other women who would love this sort of thing.”

  Samantha raised her hand, with a grin that told Julia she was teasing. “I would go in a heartbeat.”

  “Same here. He is one hot tamale,” Hazel said with a bawdy wink that made them all laugh. The woman was old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother. Maybe even great-grandmother.

  “What does it matter why?” Eliza said. “He wants to take you or he wouldn’t have asked, and I can only applaud his excellent choice.”

  “You have to come,” McKenzie said. “We’ll have so much fun.”

  “Just look at it as filling your well,” Samantha said. “If going to a gala with Jamie Caine wasn’t on that stupid list Roxy had us make at the book club, it should have been. I might have to go home and add it to mine. You have to go with him, so you can come back and tell us all about it.”

  She let out a shaky breath. Was she really seriously considering saying yes? He saw her as a friend. As long as she kept that in mind, she could look at this as a big adventure, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to feel like a fairy princess going to the ball.

  The biggest trick would be keeping the man from stealing her heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JAMIE WAS DIRTY, hungry and tired. He needed a shower, a sandwich and his bed, in exactly that order.

  He had spent most of the day handing tools to his brilliant mechanic. Most of the time he happily left any necessary jet engine repairs to his mechanic, who was fully certified and amazing at his job, but once in a while Jamie helped out where he could. He figured every person who dared challenge the law of gravity by climbing into a cockpit ought to have at least a working knowledge of what was keeping him in the air.

 

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