Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance

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Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance Page 28

by RaeAnne Thayne


  His condo would be ready in a few days. Meanwhile, he could just stay at Snow Angel Cove with the rest of his family. Eliza had plenty of room. If Julia wanted space, he would give her space.

  It only took him three trips to load up his things, then he placed the house keys in an envelope. He grabbed a piece of scratch paper and penned a quick note, slipped it in with the keys, then wedged the envelope between the door and the jamb, where she would be sure to see it.

  He had something else for her, too, but he wasn’t sure if he should leave it. For several long moments, Jamie sat on her beautiful polished wooden steps, the gift bag in his hands as he tried to make up his mind. He almost carried it back to his vehicle, but at the last moment, he hung it on her doorknob, then slipped outside, closing the door behind him.

  He had told her he loved her. If she didn’t believe him, if she wouldn’t believe him, he would have to accept that and figure out how to go on without a sweet, kind, funny librarian.

  He had no idea how the hell he would manage that, but he didn’t see that she had given him any other choice.

  * * *

  THE STREETS OF Haven Point were quiet on Christmas Eve as Julia drove through the lightly falling snow toward home. Christmas decorations lit up nearly every house, and through some of the open windows, she could see people celebrating, families gathering.

  She yawned, then shot a quick glance at the clock in her car. It was barely 8:00 p.m. She shouldn’t be this tired, but the day had been long, and she had spent most of it on her feet—serving meals, singing carols, reading favorite holiday stories, pushing various nursing home residents from room to room so they could deliver their gifts to each other.

  It had been an oddly fulfilling day, a chance for her to forget her own pain briefly while serving the elderly residents who had been friends with her mother.

  As she drove home, she couldn’t shake the memory of one particular resident. Agatha Chestnut had been the librarian in Haven Point for many years. Cranky and forbidding from the time Julia was small, Miss Chestnut rarely smiled and would lecture children for any infraction of the rules, from talking too loudly in the stacks to smudging a book page to, heaven forbid, incurring late fees.

  She was in her eighties now and seemed painfully unhappy, withered and tired and lonely. Miss Chestnut had received no visitors today and hadn’t joined in any of the celebrations. She had given no gifts and had spurned any cheery gesture the staff or other residents tried to offer.

  She had sat in a wheelchair under a crocheted afghan the Helping Hands had made for the residents a few years earlier and had watched the singing, the stories, the celebration as if from her own private bubble.

  Julia had tried hard to talk to the woman, thinking her job as a librarian might offer some common ground, but after being rebuffed several times, she had been forced to give up.

  She knew perfectly well why she had tried so hard.

  She was Agatha.

  If she didn’t change something about her life, in fifty years she would be that joyless old woman, alone in a nursing home somewhere on Christmas Eve, snapping at anyone who tried to brighten her world.

  She was already there. Hadn’t she done the same to Jamie? He had only wanted to help her, give her support when she had needed it most, and she had shut him down. She remembered the hurt she thought she’d seen in his eyes as she was closing her door against him that last time.

  He said he loved her.

  Why would he possibly say that if he didn’t mean it? He wasn’t a cruel man. She had seen evidence of exactly the opposite, over and over.

  She needed to talk to him. Tonight. No matter how late he came in, she would wait for him. She would give him the gift she and the boys had picked out for him and finally would accept the incredible gift he had tried to offer her.

  His love.

  Though nerves shivered through her, the Christmas lights seemed to glow brighter, the night seem more peaceful and beautiful as she turned on to Snow Blossom Lane toward her house and him.

  Some of her excitement seeped away when she pulled into her empty driveway. Not unexpected, she reminded herself. He had told her several days earlier he would be spending Christmas Eve at Snow Angel Cove with his family.

  She could wait, all night if she had to.

  When she let herself into the house, she noticed two things immediately—an envelope wedged into her door with her name written in his handwriting and a large gift bag hanging on the doorknob.

  Her heart started to pound as she picked up the bag and the envelope. Both were weightier than she might have expected. She opened her door and carried the two things to the sofa, where she sank down without taking off her coat.

  The cats wandered in to investigate, sniffing at both things, while Julia tried to work up the courage to open them.

  She picked the envelope first and her heart sank when she saw the keys inside. There was a note as well, and she pulled it out with fingers that trembled.

  Dear Julia,

  Thank you for letting me stay in your upstairs apartment. My condo is nearly finished, so I would ask to be released from my short-term lease at this time, as we discussed at the beginning of our arrangement.

  Yours,

  Jamie

  It was cool, impersonal, the kind any tenant might write a landlady, except for that final yours. Did he mean it? Was he still hers? The tone of the letter would indicate otherwise.

  Tabitha by now had knocked the gift bag over and was trying to peek inside, but Julia pushed her away.

  “That’s mine,” she said sternly.

  The cat meowed at her, then flounced to the other side of the room to stare haughtily at her, as if to ask what was taking so long.

  Her stomach in knots, Julia picked up the bag, removed the crumpled tissue paper and reached in, then had to press a hand to her mouth as a sob escaped.

  A stocking. The man had given her a stocking, just as her mother had done every year until her death.

  It looked store-bought, except for the block letters that spelled her name. They were cut out of red and green fabric and clumsily sewn on. She could see the ragged edges, the crooked stitches, and another sob joined the first.

  Jamie had sewn on those letters himself. Somehow she knew he had. Her big, tough, gorgeous former military pilot had spent probably hours hand-stitching this, simply because she might have mentioned how much she missed the stockings her mother had made her.

  She looked at it from every angle, so touched by the stocking itself, she almost forgot to peek inside. When she did, she started to cry in earnest.

  It was as if he had remembered every conversation they had ever had. She pulled out item after item, things they had talked about together, things she had mentioned in passing, things she hadn’t even thought twice about. A book of poems she had mentioned. A ski pass to the nearest resort to Haven Point. A slim leather journal with an engraved compass rose on the front, indicating it was meant to record travels.

  Finally, near the bottom of the stocking, she pulled out a little cellophane-wrapped package with the plant inside, tied with a little red bow. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

  Mistletoe.

  One of the last items on her list, kissing someone special under the mistletoe.

  She found a sticky note on it in his bold handwriting. “Keep this handy. You never know when you’ll find the perfect person.”

  She did. She did know. She had known all along. Jamie wasn’t perfect, but he was absolutely perfect for her.

  No other man would ever do. She had given her heart to him completely and could never imagine kissing anyone else—under the mistletoe, on the ski slopes, anywhere.

  She had to find him. Now, tonight. He wasn’t coming back to her house; the keys he had left were evide
nce of that, so she would have to go to him.

  Did she have the nerve?

  For a moment, her old anxieties bubbled up. What if he didn’t really want her? What if this was only one more nice thing he was doing for the poor, pitiful Haven Point librarian?

  She looked at the items spread out under her tree as calm assurance washed away all her doubts, once and for all.

  Jamie saw her. Truly saw her. He knew the heart of her and loved her anyway.

  He believed she was the kind of woman who would embrace adventures, and she wanted to be that woman. She was, she only had to find the strength inside her to reach for what she wanted.

  This time, she couldn’t rely on anyone else. She thought about Roxy’s book that had started everything, with its message about pursuing things you wanted. First, you had to figure out what exactly you wanted, and Julia knew, 100 percent.

  She wanted Jamie’s love. She wanted a future with him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to the cats. “But I have to go. Merry Christmas.”

  She grabbed the mistletoe and her car keys, then hurried out the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “EVERYTHING OKAY? YOU’VE been mighty quiet all night.”

  Jamie looked over at his father, seated in his favorite armchair in the vast great room at Snow Angel Cove.

  Around them was sheer chaos. Children were running, dogs barking, Christmas carols playing. Just another crazy holiday with the Caine family.

  “Sure. I’m fine.”

  His words sounded wooden, stiff, but he couldn’t help it. He felt broken.

  “I sure wish Julia could be here,” Pop said, with the uncanny insight he always showed. “Breaks my heart that she lost those boys. She sure loved them.”

  He hadn’t told his family, but Eliza apparently had heard it from Wynona Emmett and now all the Caines seemed to know.

  “She did love them,” he said.

  Pop looked over his reading glasses with a compassion and understanding Jamie wasn’t ready to see. “All the more reason she needs to be here with us. After suffering a heartbreak like that, a woman should be surrounded by people who care about her. I can’t believe you didn’t make her come.”

  His jaw flexed. That might have been possible, except she wasn’t speaking with him. She had pushed him away at every turn.

  “I’m not sure if you know this, Pop, but kidnapping is technically against the law.”

  “I thought you could persuade any woman to do anything you wanted,” Dylan piped up from the sofa, where he had ostensibly been looking through a picture book with little Liam. “Usually all you have to do is throw out a little of that Jamie Caine mojo.”

  He had never wanted to punch his brother more than he did in that moment.

  “I do hope she’s all right,” Eliza said softly. “I tried to talk to her at church this morning, but she hurried out so fast I didn’t get a chance. She won’t take my phone call or anyone else’s in the Helping Hands. Wyn did talk to her yesterday, but other than that she’s keeping to herself.”

  “What did she say, do you know? Did Wyn mention how she sounded?” He hated to ask, but he was becoming desperate.

  Eliza frowned. “Wyn said she seemed oddly calm. Apparently she took all the toys she bought Davy and Clint to a needy family Wynona found in Shelter Springs.”

  “Oh, what a lovely gesture,” Pop said.

  “That couldn’t have been easy,” Charlotte said. “I bet her poor heart was breaking.”

  His own heart couldn’t take much more. It felt swollen with tenderness, so big he could hardly breathe around it. She was amazing, reaching out to someone else even when she was hurting.

  Was it any wonder he loved her?

  “What do you think, Jamie?”

  He turned to his sister-in-law Lucy. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you. What?”

  “I was wondering if you thought Julia might let me take a look at her house while I’m in town. You know how much I love old places, and from what Eliza has described, Winston House sounds stunning.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice tight. “You’ll have to ask her.”

  He really didn’t want to talk about Julia anymore. His emotions were too tender and raw. To his relief, after another insightful look, Pop changed the subject to distract everyone, bringing up a memory of a long-ago holiday trip they had all taken to the ocean.

  For the next hour, Jamie did his best to participate in the family holiday. He played a game or two with his nieces and nephews, he tried to eat a few things, he pretended to laugh at stories he barely heard.

  Mostly, he just wanted to escape to the small guest room Eliza had found for him.

  When Pop picked up the old family Bible to read the Christmas story in Luke, as he did every year, Jamie decided he would leave right after.

  Not to his room, he decided abruptly. He would go to Julia’s house. He couldn’t kidnap her, but he could try one more time to make her talk to him, at least.

  “And it came to pass...” Pop began, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Maddie shouted. “Maybe it’s Santa!” She hurried to the door with Aidan close behind.

  A moment later, Aidan came back into the great room with an odd look on his face.

  “Um, it’s for you,” he said to Jamie.

  Behind him, tugged along by Maddie, was Julia. She looked beautiful, with her hair up in some kind of soft updo and a green sweater that set off her lovely complexion and those stunning eyes.

  “I...didn’t realize everyone would be here. I should have called. I’m sorry.”

  Why had she come? His heart began to pound, and he realized she carried something in her hand. Like a schoolboy caught in a prank, his face suddenly felt hot, and he wanted to grab it from her, to hide it away.

  That ridiculous stocking.

  It had been a complete impulse the night the Bernards left. He was trying to think how he might make her feel better and remembered the stockings she told him her mother sewed for her every year. He had run into Shelter Springs for the stocking and the material to cut out the letters of her name, feeling foolish the whole time.

  “You made me a stocking,” she said softly.

  He was aware of Aidan and Dylan watching with interest and wanted to grab the thing out of her hands and stuff it up his shirt.

  “It’s terrible. You don’t have to keep it.”

  “I didn’t know you could sew.”

  “I, uh, don’t. Not really. Mom used to make sure we all knew how to sew on a button or mend a ripped shirt, but that’s it. I watched a couple videos online. That’s all.”

  Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Charlotte and Eliza exchange shocked looks that made his face burn. He did not want to have this conversation in front of all these prying Caine eyes.

  “Seriously. You can throw it away.”

  “Are you kidding?” She clutched the stocking closer. “Never. I love it. It’s beautiful. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know. I wanted to.” He paused. “That wasn’t anything from your list. That was only me, Jules. Straight up.”

  She gave a sigh, looking helpless and confused, and he didn’t know what to do. He was never out of his depth when it came to women, but with Julia, he felt like he was drowning in all the things he didn’t know how to say.

  “Are you sure you won’t stay?” Pop asked. “We’re about to read the Christmas story.”

  She shifted her gaze to his father with a look of deep affection. Wow. He really had it bad if he could be jealous of his own seventy-year-old father.

  “That sounds lovely, but I don’t want to intrude. I only came to thank Jamie for my Christmas stocking. And to do this.”

  She was
blushing fiery red now as she moved closer to him. His entire family had fallen silent, even the little ones, and Jamie didn’t know what the hell was going on.

  She pulled something from the pocket of her wool coat with hands that seemed to be shaking. She held it out, and he recognized the mistletoe he’d picked up on a whim when he saw it in the checkout line, with all the other novelty items.

  She moved closer, to stand right in front of him, gripping the mistletoe tightly. “There’s only one person I want to kiss under the mistletoe,” she whispered, loud enough only for him to hear. “Or anywhere else. The man I love with all my heart.”

  That was all he heard. All he needed to hear. He yanked her toward him and kissed her hard, joy rushing through him so fast and so hard he felt dizzy with it.

  After only a few seconds, he snatched the mistletoe from her, tossed it over his shoulder at his family and tugged her outside.

  He really didn’t need an audience now, especially not his beaming father, his dewy-eyed sisters-in-law or his hooting idiots for brothers.

  He took her out the front door and onto the porch of Snow Angel Cove, which was surrounded by greenery and ribbons and twinkling fairy lights. There, he kissed her again, holding her so tightly she couldn’t slip away again.

  “Julia. I’ve been so miserable since the boys left, afraid you were shutting me out forever.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but...you didn’t come back.”

  He explained to her about the engine trouble, about the storm and the delays.

  “We’re here now. I can’t believe you came here and faced my family like that.”

  She looked embarrassed. “I really didn’t think it through, or I would have realized there might be thirty witnesses.”

  “Why did you come?”

  In answer, she kissed him, and Jamie felt all the bruised sections of his heart begin to heal. “I needed to see you. To apologize.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said gruffly.

 

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