Branch felt his lips curl upward at that. ‘Easy, I’m not thirty till the end of the month.’
‘Again, missing the point.’ Jason stepped closer. ‘Move the ladder, will you? You’re making me nervous.’
Branch didn’t realize how far he had stretched himself over the side of the ladder until he chanced a look down. Yeah, he definitely might break his neck if he wasn’t careful. He climbed down the ladder again and moved it a few feet to the left before climbing back up to continue, his mind whirling with everything Jason had said.
‘For what it’s worth,’ his friend piped up from the foot of the ladder, ‘I think Addie would be ecstatic that you’re hanging out with Kait again. I think she would be insanely happy for both of you.’
Even before Jason verbalized it, Branch had been thinking the same thing. He knew how fond his grandmother had been of Kait, and Kait had been just as close to her. He wondered if, in some roundabout way, he didn’t somehow feel closer to Grandma Addie when he was in Kait’s presence because of it. There was so much history there, so much Branch would never have to explain or talk about, because Kait already knew everything there was to know about him. She had lived through it alongside him.
Was it that comfort that drew him to her, making him ache to be in her presence the way he did? The thought gnawed at him, but ultimately Branch felt the answer rather than simply knowing it: There was something more to him and Kait than familiarity, and whatever that thing was, it was raw and urgent and real.
‘And is that what I am for doing this?’ Branch asked, hooking the last red and green lights into place. ‘Insane?’
At the base of the ladder, Jason shrugged. ‘Possibly, but there’s never been a man who loved a woman and wasn’t crazy because of it.’
His friend might have meant it as a simple joke, but Branch understood what he was saying on a deeper level. He was right, love made folks crazy. It made them do crazy things, and feel crazy emotions. When it came right down to it, crazy could have easily been synonymous with love. It didn’t make Jason’s statement any less accurate, though.
Branch stared down at his friend, the man who knew about his tumultuous past and still picked up their friendship where it had left off like they had simply been away at summer camp for the last month, not leading separate lives for the past eleven years. A man who thought he was potentially crazy but was still standing at the bottom of his teetering ladder, ready to hold it steady and do what needed to be done.
‘So, I’m crazy,’ he confirmed. ‘That explains why I’m going to do what I’m going to do, then.’
‘Pull off the ultimate Christmas Eve extravaganza with your high school sweetheart?’
The corner of Branch’s mouth curled up at the corner. ‘That, too,’ he replied, wholly committed to doing Grandma Addie’s tradition justice. ‘But, Jay, I’m going to fix this.’ When his friend stared up at him, confused, Branch’s smile grew wider. ‘I’m going to get Kait back.’
Chapter 11
Kait
It was December ninth. Which meant there were fifteen days until Christmas Eve. It also meant it had been one week since Branch Sterling walked back into Kait’s life and turned it upside down.
On the outside, she thought she was dealing with it pretty well, handling her diner shifts and looking after the boys for Janna without so much as a moment’s hesitation. Whether it was to Janna’s credit or Kait’s detriment, her older sister had refrained from mentioning her time with Branch or their plans for Christmas Eve. The silence regarding the subject was welcomed in a way, but Kait couldn’t deny, it was a bit unnerving, too. Just because Janna wasn’t stating her opinions now, didn’t mean she wasn’t saving them all up to hurl at her later.
Janna was always going to be opinionated, however, just like Kait was always going to be a sucker for trying to keep the peace. Kait didn’t want to argue with her sister, and she certainly didn’t want to make waves with Zach. Yet, she had done both, in the name of her ex-boyfriend. Kait might not have known what to feel when it came to Branch, but Zach was right about one thing – she felt something. Not just back then, but now. And that was the part she wasn’t dealing with nearly as well on the inside. She could blame nostalgia and fatigue and shock for the heady combination of emotions battling within her, but they were still emotions, plain and simple.
She had lain in bed the night before, exhausted from her busy day but unable to sleep. How could she close her eyes and drift off into unconsciousness when every time she tried she ended up thinking of Branch’s soft, dark eyes, or Janna’s warnings, or Branch’s comforting voice, or the guilt that was welling up inside her on Zach’s behalf, or the memories she had of who she was back then, with Branch, before—
Yeah, she had every right to be exhausted. So much weighed on her mind that it was full to the brim. She didn’t know how to let her thoughts recede long enough to shut down and give herself a chance to replenish her energy stores.
So many people in Port Landon had so many beliefs about the accident that tore their three lives apart as they had known it. But that was all they had, speculation and theories, because there were so many unanswered questions about what had really happened. Unfortunately, around here, some folks seemed to be easily persuaded to believe anything as long as it made for a good story later on.
For Kait, though, as well as Zach and Branch, there was no good story. She had pulled the comforter up tighter under her chin, staring out her bedroom window at the pale moon as she thought of all the different versions she’d heard over the years. Hardly anyone could understand that it had merely been an accident. It had to be. No malice, no extenuating circumstances, no jealous rage. Just an unfortunate accident. Or, maybe they just didn’t want to.
But that was the difference between Kait and some of the folks in their little town. She knew Branch Sterling. Better than anyone. That alone was enough for her to come to her own conclusion; Branch didn’t hit Zach with his truck on purpose. He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. It wasn’t who he was.
Unfortunately, by the time her shock wore off and she allowed herself to think about the entire thing rationally, Branch was long gone. And he hadn’t come back, until now.
Which perhaps was why Kait was so hesitant to bring up that night. Seeing him, talking to him, and realizing how much she missed him … it gutted her to know she had assumed the worst, a temporary blip in that ten-year span when she had allowed herself to be persuaded he was a monster capable of the unthinkable, purely because she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask the hard questions and hear the truth from his mouth.
Guilt swarmed in her stomach at the thought of Zach. He had told her what happened, many times. It was a simple story – he was there at the party and had asked where Kait was, as he had seen Branch with another girl. When Branch left with that other girl, Zach confronted him about his indiscretions, and knowing Zach could blow everything wide open, and that he would, Branch had tried to stop him in a blind rage of jealousy and desperation.
It didn’t fit the picture of the man she loved, but the wounds on Kait’s heart had been so raw and so excruciating that she took it as the truth. Who was she to argue with a man who had been on the receiving end of Branch’s actions, especially when he had been her friend for so long?
But with the years that passed came doubts. Miniscule ones at first as Kait’s heart healed, scarred and unrecognizable, then transforming into gaping holes in the story, where she could no longer tell what had really happened and what was speculation that had been added in for good measure. She wanted to believe it wasn’t intentional, needed to. She wanted to believe that Zach wouldn’t lie to her, as well. But if he was right, then her judgment of Branch’s character was very, very wrong. And so, the vicious circle of inner conflict continued.
By the time her doubts kicked in, it didn’t matter either way. Branch was gone, banished from town because she had screamed at him to leave, and Zach had recovered. Kait had done what she could to
help Zach during his recuperation, knowing his loyalty to her was the underlying reason he ended up with his injuries in the first place, and from there, they had moved on.
Well, maybe Zach was healed, his fractured bone long since mended and callused, but who was going to help Kait to heal?
No one. She couldn’t broach the subject with Zach, as he would only accept her questions with indignance and hurt, making her feel even guiltier for not taking his recollection of the events at face value, purely because she had a different view of who Branch was and what he was capable of. And Branch, himself, couldn’t help her move beyond this when merely being around him weakened her somehow, making her question herself about who she was and what she was capable of.
Could Kait forgive Branch for what had happened, once and for all? Was she capable of putting it all behind her and really, truly moving forward, instead of just spinning her wheels in place? And did she even want to know if there was a different truth to be unearthed about the events of that night?
Kait wasn’t sure, but there was one thing she did know as she turned onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut, begging for the reprieve of sleep. She needed to find out.
The list she clutched in her hand was long and detailed. Everything Kait could possibly think of that needed to be done, purchased, and found within the depths of Grandma Addie’s house was scribbled on it, to the best of her recollection. The elderly woman had been a creature of habit, and she had gone about putting together her renowned festive event in the same manner every year. People in Port Landon knew what to expect when they entered the front door; pure and wholesome Christmas magic, compliments of an older woman with a heart of gold. Not only did the Christmas decorations get hung and displayed in the same spots annually, but the meal contained the same mouth-watering staples served on the same intricately designed fine china place settings. Kait could see vividly the cut crystal of the massive punchbowl that was also placed on the kitchen counter without fail, with a huge array of goblets and glasses she had collected over the years. It was eclectic, and beautiful, and a warm memory she found comfort in, knowing all the puzzle pieces to turn that memory into a reality once more were stored somewhere within the deepest depths of the house she stood in front of.
Kait knocked, but no answer came. She strained, but no sounds made it through the door. Odd.
She knocked again. This time when Branch didn’t open it, she turned the handle, the door creaking open easily.
‘Branch?’ She peeked in. He was here, somewhere. The Escape in the driveway and the newly shoveled front steps proved it.
It was too cold for her to stand out here and freeze. She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
Shuffling out of her jacket and boots, Kait left them by the door. Without the wind whistling against her ears outside, she could vaguely hear the melodic sounds of music carrying throughout the house from somewhere, muffled and distant.
‘Branch?’ she called out again, her sock-clad feet padding silently across the hardwood floors. It didn’t go unnoticed that the boards gleamed now. Not only had Branch saved them from the year’s worth of dust and dirt that had accumulated, he’d gotten his hands on some polish, by the looks of it. His efforts weren’t in vain; the floors looked fabulous.
This time, her shout was answered by a series of thumps coming from above her head, the sound reverberating off the walls and making the chandelier in the dining room shiver.
‘I’m up here, Kaitie!’
I wish he would stop calling me that, she thought, hating the way it made her feel a buoyancy she wasn’t prepared to identify just yet. She just knew she liked it, the sound of it and the feeling it caused. Maybe a little too much.
Following the heavy footfalls above, muffled by the drywall and insulation between them, she found herself in the middle of the hallway, where the attic hatch had been opened in the ceiling and the ladder was unfolded to touch down onto a strategically placed rug to protect the floor from the rough, weathered wood on the ends of the handrails. Above her, Branch peered down at her from the square hole, barely big enough to allow a grown adult to shimmy through. Hair disheveled and a dark shadow of beard on his lower face, he looked different than the last time she had seen him.
He looked happy. Not just the kind of happy put forth to make others think things were fine, but the genuine, unadulterated kind of happy. It looked good on him. Really good.
‘You’ve got to see this. Come here.’ Crouched at the top of the ladder, he held out his hand.
It looked like she didn’t have an option.
‘Let me guess,’ she muttered, taking carefully placed steps up the ladder, ‘You found your entire baseball card collection in mint condition from when you were ten, and we can retire on a beach in the Maldives.’
Kait would have missed the next rung completely and lost her footing if it hadn’t been for Branch’s outstretched hand gripping hers tightly and holding her in place.
We. She’d said we. Like they would take the money and run off together into the sunshine and sand. It took everything in her to swallow down the groan in her throat, but there was no way to conceal the heat flaming up in her cheeks.
‘As good as that sounds, this might be even better.’ Branch left it at that, helping her up into the attic with slow and steady movements. ‘Keep your feet on the floor joists until you get closer to the window. Looks like there’s been a leak or something over here and the plywood floor is soft.’
‘Ah, another thing to add to our to-do list, I take it?’ This time, Kait gasped at her own stupidity. We. Our. Was she ever going to get the message from her brain to her mouth that there was no we or our? This wasn’t her house. It was Branch’s. For however long he planned to keep it, anyway. Kait had a place within its walls only until Christmas Eve. After that, the dinner event would be over and Branch would finish packing up what was left here. Then, he would leave, just as he advised her the first day he’d strolled into the diner. He had been honest and forthcoming about that from the beginning, so Kait didn’t know why the idea, now, was causing a wave of anguish to flood her belly.
She thought she saw a flicker of something in Branch’s eyes – whether it was humor or satisfaction, she wasn’t sure – but it could have simply been the streaks of light coming from the window playing tricks on her. A few incandescent light bulbs glowed from the peaked ceilings and rafters, but they were obviously low wattage, and their brightness was obscured by thick dust and cobwebs that draped erratically over their heads.
‘I thought you weren’t going to take on the attic until after the spare bedrooms downstairs were finished?’ she asked, trying to cover up her second slip of the tongue. All around them, totes and boxes were opened, with items that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades strewn about the floor. Branch had been up here a while.
He raked his hands through his shaggy hair, only adding to the messiness of it. ‘Honestly, I came up here to see if there were any empty plastic totes and ended up getting sidetracked.’ Pulling his cellphone out of his back pocket, he winced. ‘That was three hours ago.’
Kait chuckled at his surprise. ‘You’re not the first person to get lost down Memory Lane, and you won’t be the last.’ She nodded toward the pile of boxes near the corner, cardboard flaps pulled back and lids removed. ‘Well, you’ve got me up here. What did you find that stole the last three hours of your life?’
Even in the dim light, Kait watched as his gaze glittered with excitement. Holding up a finger to signal her to wait, he dove for the boxes, stepping over some and around others, mindful of where he put his feet and what was nearby. She had a feeling his caution had more to do with the sentimental value of the contents around him than the integrity of the floor beneath his work boots.
‘This.’ Branch stood up, gripping a jacket gingerly between his fingers, holding it away from his body as he retraced his steps back to her. It took a moment for recognition to register, but once Kait realized what it tr
uly was, she wasn’t sure what was more intriguing, the significance of the jacket or the undeniable pride that radiated off Branch in waves.
‘Is that … an army uniform?’ Kait knew it had to be, but as she reached out and ran her fingers along the material – in the dull lighting, she had a hard time deciding if it was a brown color or more of a green – she realized she had never seen something like it in anything but pictures.
‘Grandpa Duke’s World War II uniform,’ he replied, never taking his eyes off it. ‘I found it in that battered old trunk underneath the boxes of classic car magazines from twenty-five years ago.’
‘If it was near anything to do with classic cars, there’s no doubt it was your grandpa’s.’
‘Exactly.’ His mouth quirked up at the corners, but Branch continued, awestruck by the piece of American history in his hands. ‘I remember Grandpa Duke telling me about it when I was a kid, showing me what all the different patches and stuff were.’ He shifted his hands under the jacket and pointed to some fabric stripes sewn onto the left sleeve cuff. ‘I think those stripes are the ones that signify he went overseas, and those ones are the ones awarded for years of service. If I remember correctly, they were only awarded every three years.’
‘Grandpa Duke taught you a lot.’ There was a wistfulness in her tone, and Kait’s heart ached as it washed over her again that the man was gone, along with his easy demeanor and willingness to teach. It might have been years, and she might not have formally been family, but some people didn’t need to be blood relations to be remembered with just as much fondness as the family one was born into.
‘Every chance he got,’ Branch agreed. His hand brushed over the United States flag insignia on the collar, stopping close to a different one near the shoulder. ‘The man was a hero, in more ways than one.’
‘He was.’ Kait knew he wasn’t merely talking about his soldier status. There had been a different kind of war Addie and Duke had been through, and that included losing their only child and unexpectedly raising their grandson. The older couple had done it with grace and finesse and without a moment’s hesitation, but somehow Kait wondered if that war didn’t still rage on in the form of Branch’s guilt and sorrow, half a lifetime later. ‘You should try it on.’
The Winter Berry House Page 10