‘And my offer?’ Zach was persistent, that’s for sure.
Branch, however, had no choice but to be honest. ‘I haven’t given it much thought. I’ve been kind of busy.’
‘So I’ve heard.’
Branch didn’t have to guess. He knew that comment was about Kait, not the dinner or the house. ‘Zach, if you’ve got something to say—’
‘Trust me, I doubt you want to hear it.’
‘What I’m doubting are your reasons for wanting to buy my grandparents’ house.’
Branch adjusted the ballcap on his head, giving himself a moment to rein in the defiance in his voice. ‘If this has something to do with the accident, you know I’ll never be able to apologize to you enough about what—’
‘You’re going to do the same thing to her now that you did back then,’ Zach interjected. To his credit, there was no malice in his tone, just a matter-of-factness that stopped Branch in his tracks. ‘You’re going to hurt Kait.’
Of course, this was about Kait. It was always about Kait, for both of them.
‘I’m not here to hurt her,’ he stated, his eyes flaring hot with conviction. ‘I won’t ever hurt her again.’
‘You weren’t at that party to hurt her, either,’ Zach reminded him. ‘And look how well that turned out.’
It was a twist of the knife, one that had been piercing his soul for ten long years. The accuracy of Zach’s summation sliced through Branch, and his hand came up to press against his chest, as though checking for a wound.
‘You want to buy my grandparents’ house, purely so I’ll leave town.’ The realization washed over him, tunneling his vision and thinning out the air he tried to take in. ‘So I’ll leave Kait.’
‘She means a lot to me,’ Zach replied. ‘I’ll give you whatever you’re asking for it, plus ten percent. It’s worth every penny to make sure she doesn’t get hurt again.’
Was he shocked, or impressed? Branch couldn’t figure out what he felt knowing Zach would pay whatever it took to get him out of town and away from his long-time friend. As quickly as his emotions whirled, it took only a heartbeat for him to choose his response. Really, there was no choice at all.
‘The house isn’t for sale.’
‘Excuse me?’ Whatever Zach expected from their conversation, it wasn’t that. He pulled his sunglasses off, staring at him with a confused, narrowed gaze. It was the first glimpse of his eyes Branch had witnessed since the accident a decade ago. His gaze was gray as steel and just as hard.
Branch shook his head. ‘I’m not selling it.’ No amount of money would ever be enough to make him walk away from his second chance with Kait. That chance might be slim, but it was a chance, nonetheless. He owed it to himself – to them, and the lovestruck teenagers they had once been – to try. Besides, it was his grandparents’ place, and in a roundabout way, that made him feel like they were the ones offering him the second chance. He liked that idea.
‘If you’re not selling, then what are you doing?’
Again, Zach wasn’t just talking about the house. The worst thing Branch probably could have done was laugh, but it was out before he could stop it. Pulling his hat off to rake his hands through his hair, he placed it back on his head, invigorated by having made one, albeit impulsive, decision. ‘I honestly don’t know. But I can tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not hurting Kait,’ he said, emphasizing not for good measure. ‘And I’m not leaving.’
The realtor stood before him, still as stone. Branch couldn’t pinpoint what changed, but he swore something did, as though a fire had just erupted somewhere he couldn’t see. ‘You have my card if you change your mind.’
As Branch watched him walk back to his BMW, he wondered what a shrewd man like Zach Canton was capable of in the name of love. Whatever the answer was, he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.
‘Door’s open!’
Branch would have met Kait at the door if he hadn’t been flat on his back, buried underneath the ancient limbs of an artificial Christmas tree. It was a miracle he had even heard the knocking on the door at all with the amount of pine sprigs and cobwebs that surrounded his head like a dome.
Forty minutes ago, he’d tugged three dilapidated cardboard boxes out of the attic, down the rickety set of stairs, and into the living room. Each one was clearly marked in black permanent marker, but Branch knew what those boxes held. Grandpa Duke had always been so meticulous about putting the old artificial tree away, neatly tying the removable limbs into bunches according to size with string, making sure nothing was bent before it was stored away for another year. Grandma Addie was the designated holder of each bunch while he tied it and carefully tucked it in the box. When he passed away, the role as keeper of the Christmas tree had been handed down to Branch. Grandma Addie always waited for him, letting Branch be the one to unpack the tree before Christmas – sometimes, it was down to the wire on Christmas Eve night – and helping him as he carefully stowed it away, even tying the knots of string the same way Grandpa Duke had.
Loneliness had seldom been on his radar since he arrived back in Port Landon, but the moment he unpacked the artificial tree, there was no denying that’s what he felt. Something wasn’t right about putting up a tree – that tree, in particular – without his grandparents by his side. It was the first time he had ever tried to do it alone.
Branch didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to hear Kait’s footsteps in the front foyer.
‘You sounded like you were speaking through—’ Kait rounded the corner, her hair tossed up in a messy bun and her eyes rounding as recognition took over. ‘We’re putting up the Christmas tree?’
Branch slid out from under it just in time to see her fist pump the air and do a little gleeful dance. Sitting up, knees bent in front of him, his mouth curved into a grin. ‘After that, how can I say no?’
‘I walked in expecting to have to find out what’s in the basement of this place. Trust me, putting up the tree sounds much better.’
Branch took a glance at his handiwork, thinking the tree looked pretty good considering it was older than he was. Wiping the dust from his hands, he stood. ‘The tree’s already up, all we’ve got to do is decorate it.’
‘Now you’re speaking my language,’ Kait replied, rubbing her hands together excitedly.
Kait and her love of Christmas. He wasn’t sure he would ever tire of seeing how excited it made her. Children might anticipate Christmas morning, but Kait Davenport got butterflies from preparing for it.
‘There’s a box at the foot of the attic stairs. It’s got the ornaments in it.’ He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. ‘You grab that, and I’ll grab snacks. We’ll make an event out of it.’
Something passed over Kait’s face but Branch didn’t wait around to give her a chance to turn him down. He wanted her to remember all the good things about their time together, and he wanted her to enjoy her time while she helped him pull off this Christmas caper. It didn’t go unnoticed that she showed up promptly when she said she would, after working, after babysitting, and no doubt after having to hear her friends’ and family’s opinions of him.
He wanted her to know he appreciated every second she gave him.
By the time Branch made his way back into the living room, Kait had the box of ornaments on the floor, cardboard flaps opened wide, and a glittery array of baubles laid out on the carpet and couch cushions, sorting them, by the looks of it, according to color. Tinsel draped over the arm of the couch, and strings of lights set off to the side of the box, Kait was prepared to tackle that tree and turn it into a holiday masterpiece.
‘I was just going to put ’em on the tree as I grabbed them out of the box.’
The comment got the reaction he was expecting. Kait fixed him with a horrified stare.
‘You don’t just put them on, Branch. Well, unless it’s the tree at the diner. Then I just put them on willy-nilly. You know, just to drive Janna bonkers.’ She grinned, then waved a hand, dismissing the idea.
‘But this one’s a work of art.’ She shook her head, obviously saddened by his lack of knowledge on the topic. ‘For that, I’d tell you to leave and come back when I’m done, but it’s your house. That would be rude.’ A faint smirk played on her lips.
‘Rude, but warranted, by the sounds of it.’ He set the tray down on the coffee table beside her. ‘Maybe that’ll make up for my Christmas indiscretions.’
Branch took a step back and watched. Waited. He’d had to make a special trip out to the grocery store, then the convenience store when he couldn’t find what he was looking for, but the search had been worth it. As soon as Kait turned toward the tray, he could visibly see the moment the memory registered in her mind.
‘Oh, you remembered!’ She plucked the plastic package of cinnamon bear candies from the tray with one hand, tipping the bottle of Mountain Dew with the other, as though she had to read the label to confirm what it was. ‘These are still my favorites.’
There was nothing special about the candy or soda, but together they signified a night during their teenage years that Branch would never forget. Kait hadn’t either, obviously.
‘It’s been barely two weeks since I got here, but I’ve had time to notice that some things haven’t really changed, even if we have,’ Branch explained. ‘I was hoping this was one of them.’
She continued to stare at the bottle, holding the cap between her fingers. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever bought cinnamon bears and Mountain Dew together since,’ she chuckled, turning to him. ‘But there’s nothing better.’
Branch swallowed past the lump in his throat. She was something. This was something. ‘Rip them open, then. We’ve got a tree to decorate.’
Kait did, and they fell into an easy silence. Branch poured Mountain Dew into glass tumblers, and Kait got to work, strategically stringing the lights around the tree, then the tinsel strands. Branch did his best not to intervene, but as he watched her, her expression determined and wheels turning, he became more and more convinced she was calculating the distance between each light and piece of garland she added. She had a head full of holiday equations, and the final result would be the perfectly accessorized tree.
No wonder she wouldn’t just let him put the glass ornaments on. There was a plan. A strategic sequence of actions. It was on the tip of his tongue to jovially ask if she needed graph paper or a ruler or something in order to get all the bulbs hung just right, but Kait spoke first.
‘We were just kids that night.’ She kept her focus on the shiny crimson ornament in her hand. ‘Obviously, or we wouldn’t have been sitting out there eating cinnamon bear candies and drinking Mountain Dew.’
She didn’t laugh outright, but he heard the upward curl of her lips. Branch continued to pull the last remaining bulbs from the box, his expression stoic, but inside he was elated.
She was thinking. About them. Who they were, and what they had become. Who they could be. Good.
‘I don’t know, we’re almost thirty now and still eating and drinking them, so maybe it’s a grown-up thing to do.’
She cast him a narrowed glance. ‘Easy with the thirty comments,’ she replied wryly, turning back to the tree. ‘I’m just saying, we were so young. Yet, we still seemed to think we had all the answers.’
If Branch closed his eyes, he swore he could still smell the damp vegetation around them, hear the crickets and the frogs and their night-time interlude. They’d had less than a month till graduation, so many dreams, and so many hopes. But it was the promises Kait was thinking of now. The ones he had made to her. They ones they had made together.
‘I meant every word, Kaitie.’ Branch’s hands stilled. He couldn’t function with such a vivid memory rearing up and striking him with vehement vengeance. ‘Those answers still apply.’
A tense quietness ensued, and Branch let it ring out, the silence as deafening as a torrential storm. He ached to go to her, to use words to remind her, but he could see the truth – he didn’t need to. She was there, in the darkness, caught up in the memory just as irrevocably as he was.
‘I haven’t been there since, but we used to go out to that old house all the time. The old Hansel and Gretel House.’ She whispered the town’s name for the rundown homestead ruins affectionately. It was just a weather-beaten cottage in the middle of the woods, abandoned and forgotten by everyone except the teenagers who needed a place to escape from the small town they thought they despised. But it was the place Branch and Kait had often run to, trudging through the trees to sit on the dilapidated front step that threatened to cave in at any possible moment and hold each other, arms tangled as they whispered about the future they were going to have together. ‘Everyone went there.’
‘But that night, it was just us,’ Branch added carefully. ‘Just us and our cinnamon bears and Mountain Dew.’
A choked sound erupted from Kait’s throat, laughter mixed with pain. ‘And our dreams,’ she said. ‘My gosh, Branch, you said that after graduation it was going to be you and me, always. You said we were so close to our own forever …’ She trailed off, swallowing hard. ‘That night, you said you were going to—’
‘I know.’ Every synapse in his brain was firing only one signal straight through him: Go to her. Now, you fool. But Branch knew if he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him, she would fall apart. The waver in her voice warned him of it. Hell, they both would. The gold ring was burning a hole through his wallet, letting its presence be known.
But he needed Kait to remember. He needed her to stay with him in the memory.
‘I did,’ he whispered, holding out his hand. Branch couldn’t bring himself to leave her there, so close yet so far away from him. Not when she was remembering so crystal clear the moment he had sat there, her body tucked into his, under the darkness of night at the Hansel and Gretel House and told her in a voice barely above a whisper that he was going to marry her someday, if she would let him.
She remembered every word. So did he.
‘I didn’t expect a thing when I came back to Port Landon.’ He let out a long breath when she entangled her fingers in his and squeezed tightly. ‘But this, right now, you and I … Kaitie, I wouldn’t change this for the world.’
An electric-like snap and crackle buzzed through him where his fingers touched hers.
‘Me neither.’ The way her chest deflated as she pushed out the words, he wondered how long she had been wanting to say them aloud. He stepped closer, clasping her hand tighter, letting the electricity between them spark brighter.
‘It’s been more than a decade, and yet there’s been no one else since. There is no one else for me. And there’s no one else for you, either.’ It was presumptuous, bordering on cocky, and—
‘There was, though,’ Kait squeaked out.
—and wrong, evidently.
‘Was,’ she repeated, emphasizing it. ‘A long time ago. About a year after the accident, I tried to date again. It was a futile effort, but I didn’t want to feel like I felt, then.’
Her anguish was so close to bringing him to his knees it was painful. Painful to feel, and painful to watch. He didn’t let go of her hand, though the room seemed to spin with her confession. ‘It’s okay,’ he told her softly. ‘You deserved to be happy. Loved.’
But Kait shook her head vehemently, tears brimming her eyes. ‘Not when I didn’t love him back.’
‘Who?’
Her glassy gaze met his, and she looked downright stricken to have to even say his name out loud. ‘Zach.’
Suddenly, it all made sense. Zach Canton had disliked Branch before the accident because he stood in the way of his friendship blossoming into a romantic relationship with the woman he pined for as long as he could remember. But Branch had been thrown out of the picture by that night’s events, paving a clear path for Zach to make his way into Kait’s heart.
And yet, Zach had become Kait’s boyfriend and ultimately lost her. Branch wasn’t a betting man, but if he was, he would bet everything he owned that, even wi
th Branch long gone, Zach couldn’t compete with the ghost of Branch and Kait’s love. No amount of distance or time or tragedy could erase the memory of that, Branch realized that now.
He almost felt sympathy for Zach, a man who only wanted to love someone whom he couldn’t force to love him back.
Almost.
Chapter 15
Kait
Something was happening. A shift, a push toward the edge of something strong and inexplicably real despite its lack of definition. Something involving the remnants of an evening Kait still recalled vividly … hushed promises and pretty words floating on the scent of cinnamon candy and sugary soda …
And she had to ruin it by being brutally honest.
A tender moment with the man she never thought she would see again let alone fall back in love with, and she had to go and mention Zach Canton.
‘It’s okay,’ Branch repeated, giving her hand a soft squeeze. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’
Then why does it feel like that? A defeated sigh escaped her lips. ‘Maybe not, but you had a right to know.’
‘It doesn’t change a thing,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘Not to me.’ He reached into the box and pulled out a tiny glass teddy bear ornament. A cardinal sat nestled in its paws. Branch held it out to Kait. ‘More than ten years have passed since those promises were made. You had every right to move on.’
‘I didn’t do that very well, now, did I?’ Kait held the ornament between her fingers, scrutinizing it so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. Admitting failure had never been one of her strong suits, always being the one to forge on until things worked out the way she wanted them to. But there was no other way to see it – she had failed miserably when it came to moving on from Branch.
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