Christmas on Main Street

by JoAnn Ross

  Dwelling on past failures was getting him nowhere. Determined to keep trying, he tested the heft of his favorite chisel and mallet as he studied the thick slab of solid cherry he’d picked out of his supply at random on yesterday’s trip through the room. After studying the swirls of colors in the wood, he closed his eyes and put his mind to work. Utter silence. Not even a hint of what images might lurk beneath the smooth surface of the wood.

  “S-son of a bitch!”

  He tossed the chisel and mallet aside and stalked away. When he reached the door of his shop, he stopped. Guilt drove him back to the table to put his tools where they belonged. At least his carelessness hadn’t damaged the chisel blade. Small comfort.

  “Sorry, guys.”

  Seth patted the mallet as if it were a puppy before walking away. The gesture left him smiling. His family already thought he was crazy for abandoning his home in an upscale neighborhood in Seattle. If they found out he’d taken to talking to his tools, there was no telling what they’d do. His mother had already enlisted the help of his older brother and younger sister to assist in her determined efforts to get him to return to the fold.

  Well, that wasn’t happening. Even if Seth wasn’t working right now, he liked everything about this place. A few weeks ago, he’d been taking a much-needed respite from the grueling pace he’d been keeping up in the city and found pleasure in the simple beauty of this rural setting. He’d spent hours cruising up and down the twisting roads that wound through the Cascade foothills when he’d spotted the “For Sale” sign posted in front of the ramshackle log house. He’d been searching for inspiration but found a new home instead.

  Preferring to remain under the radar, Seth had returned to Seattle and instructed his lawyers to purchase the house in the name of his corporation. That allowed him to draw a sharp line between his new lifestyle and his prior one in the high-end art scene. It meant hiding who and what he was from his neighbors as he tried to rediscover his artistic inspiration in the small town. Although he hated the need for the deception, at this point he would try anything for the sake of his sanity.

  Despite not being able to work, he enjoyed puttering around the house and took pride in how well the bookshelves he’d built in the living room had turned out. He might not be getting any serious work done, but he was learning how to relax again. It had been years since he’d taken the time to sit by a fire and read.

  And speaking of taking time for the simple pleasures in life, he’d really enjoyed helping Bridey with her Christmas decorations. In past years, he hadn’t bothered with any of that, but maybe this year he would. In fact, more than once he’d caught himself whistling one of the Christmas songs that Bridey and Fiona had sung while the three of them decorated the shop. That was definitely out of character for him, so maybe there was something special in the air here in Snowberry Creek that helped spread the holiday spirit. The idea had him smiling and looking forward to finding out what changes the season would bring next.

  Having made his daily token effort to work, Seth snagged his backpack on his way to the front door. It was time to head into town. He needed to pick up his mail at the post office and buy some groceries if he wanted to eat dinner later. In between those two particular chores, he had one more stop to make, the real reason behind the whole expedition.

  Today was the day Bridey had promised him another gingerbread cupcake to try. The thought had his mouth watering. However, even if she’d already run out of the cupcakes, he’d happily settle for whatever was left. After all, it was the chance to spend a few minutes with the attractive and friendly woman who had become the highlight of his week lately.

  Twenty minutes later, he had to circle the block twice before finally finding a parking spot near Bridey’s shop big enough for his twenty-year-old panel van. Back in Seattle, he’d used it only for hauling the various woods that were the medium for his art and for delivering his bigger pieces to the gallery that handled his work. The barn behind the house, which had been converted into a garage, housed a perfectly good sedan and a much flashier convertible. Neither one fit his current lifestyle.

  Once he maneuvered the van in next to the curb, he hustled down the sidewalk toward Bridey’s shop. He’d timed his arrival for that quiet moment between lunchtime and the late-afternoon rush. However, when he walked inside, he found himself at the tail end of a line that wound its way almost to the door. Looking around, he realized it must have been a half day for the high school.

  His regular spot was already occupied by some boys sporting letterman jackets. Worse yet, there wasn’t an empty table in the entire place. Disappointed, Seth resigned himself to getting his order to go. Would the cupcakes taste as good if he had to eat them at home? Yeah, but that didn’t mean he’d enjoy them nearly as much.

  As the line slowly snaked forward, a table opened up near the counter. With a maneuver that rivaled his best days on the soccer field, Seth tossed his backpack on the table and his jacket on the chair, successfully heading off a pair of teenage girls who had been zeroing in on the same spot. After identical disappointed sighs, they veered off to rejoin some friends in circling around the edge of the shop in case another table became available.

  He fought the urge to do a victory dance on his way back to the counter to place his order.

  Bridey nodded in the direction of the table he’d just staked out. “Nice move there, Seth. I thought for sure those girls would get there ahead of you.”

  Totally unrepentant, he grinned. “They’re younger. I’m sneakier.”

  She laughed and set out a pair of cupcakes with his coffee. “And to the victor go the spoils.”

  “Thank you. The new recipe?”

  Bridey nodded. “Two different versions. Let me know what you think.”

  “Will do.”

  Seth retreated to his table and peeled off the first wrapper, which was decorated with small candy canes. It was tempting to read something into her having his two cupcakes set aside seemingly for him, but that was no doubt wishful thinking on his part. She probably had a whole squad of regulars lined up to try out her newest creations.

  One bite and he was sold. He closed his eyes and savored the moist cake, which had just the right amount of nutmeg. That flavor always brought back childhood memories of time spent in his maternal grandmother’s kitchen. She used to make him plum tarts seasoned with nutmeg. Nona was also the only one who had never made him feel as if he failed to measure up just because he stuttered.

  But all that was water under the bridge. It was amazing how people could overlook his hated impediment once his artwork started selling for five figures. He slammed the door shut on those memories. They wouldn’t do anything to fix his current uninspired dry spell and would only diminish his enjoyment of his visit to Something’s Brewing. Ignoring the constant buzz of the teenagers around him, he took his time finishing the two cupcakes as he picked up his pen and started working on the crossword puzzle.

  • • •

  Bridey wiped down the counter and scanned the shop to see what else needed to be done. The crowd had finally thinned out enough so that she could catch a breather. Her eyes swept across the room once more, this time coming back to where Seth sat working on a crossword puzzle. She liked that he did it in ink, a sign of confidence that seemed at odds with his rather shy demeanor. The newcomer to town was definitely a puzzle himself.

  Before she made it to his table to see what he thought of her new recipe, the door to the shop opened. She smiled and waved at Callie Redding, a friend from high school and one of her best customers. She dropped by often to buy treats for her fiancé.

  “Hey, Callie! Are you here to feed Nick’s sweet tooth or your own?”

  “Mine for now, but I’ll need to take something home for Nick and Austin. They’re up in Seattle for the afternoon, checking out a couple of building supply places that specialize in the stuff needed to restore old homes.”

  As Callie studied the few remaining pastries, Bridey felt compe
lled to apologize. “Sorry, but it’s pretty slim pickings right now. The high school was on a half day, and I’ve been too busy to restock. A batch of coffee cakes just came out of the oven, but they need to cool before I can take them out of the pans.”

  Callie actually looked pleased by the situation. “Not a problem. I can wait. Meanwhile, I’ll take that last muffin and a tall hot chocolate. Do you have time to grab a cup of something and join me? It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to chat.”

  Bridey swallowed her disappointment at the missed chance to talk to Seth. Maybe he’d be engrossed in reading the newspaper until after Callie left. Not likely, but a girl could always hope.

  She fixed two hot chocolates and carried them over to Callie’s table. After sitting, she broached a subject that had been on her mind for a while.

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Callie. I know Nick has his hands full working on Spence’s place, but I was wondering if he could take a look at my kitchen and give me some ideas about what could be done to make it more user-friendly. The place was set up for a sandwich shop, not a bakery like mine. It would involve tearing out the old cabinets and replacing them with new shelves.”

  Callie sipped her drink and set it back down. “Of course I can ask him. At least he can recommend someone to do the work for you.”

  Bridey nodded. “That would be good. I’d just want a rough idea of what the renovation would cost. I can’t afford to spend a lot right now, so the work will have to be done in several stages.”

  The two of them moved on to other topics, chatting until some other customers came in. While Callie finished her hot chocolate, Bridey packed up several generous pieces of the coffee cake for her.

  As Callie walked out the door, the scrape of a chair announced that Seth was up and moving. Darn it, anyway. But instead of heading straight for the door as he usually did, Seth sidled up to the counter.

  She brightened her smile. “Hi! I meant to stop by to get the verdict on the cupcakes.”

  “The one with the red sprinkles and white icing had the perfect amount of nutmeg. Liked it best. Both were wonderful, though.”

  “Great. That’s what I thought, too.”

  He glanced toward the group of women seated at the front table and frowned. Was there something wrong? He shifted his gaze back to her.

  “Listen, Bridey. I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation with your friend. About the shelves, that is.”

  Where was he going with this? “As small as the shop is, it would be hard not to have heard at least part of what we were saying.”

  He nodded, but drew in a deep breath, as if bracing himself to say something more, something she might not like. “Feel free to say no, Bridey, but if you can tell me what you want, I can build the shelves for you. I have a lot experience working with wood, and I’m really good with my hands.”

  3

  Okay, maybe he could’ve phrased that last part differently. There were all kinds of things he wanted to do when it came to Bridey Roke. Not one of them had anything to do with shelving. While waiting for her to make up her mind, he stared at the far wall and tried to act as if a refusal wouldn’t matter. From the way she was biting her lower lip, she was either seriously considering his offer or trying to think of a gentle way to say no.

  “Did you hear me also say that I couldn’t afford to pay much for the work?”

  Okay, so it wasn’t him giving her second thoughts. “Not a problem. Pay for materials. That’s enough.”

  She was already shaking her head. “I couldn’t let you do that, Seth. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  Her eyes zeroed in on the hole in the knee of his jeans, and he bet she hadn’t missed the frayed collar and cuffs on his shirt. She’d never believe he didn’t need the money, but these days he dressed for comfort, not to impress. Although for Bridey, he might make an exception.

  “Minimum wage and materials, then. I’m between assignments, not unemployed. Doing this will help fill the time until I go back to work after the first of the year.”

  Hopefully this long dry spell would have played itself out by then. He had promised to deliver some new pieces to the gallery by late spring. One way or another, he needed to rediscover the joy in his art that he had lost.

  Bridey didn’t look convinced, but finally she nodded. “Let me show you what I’m talking about. You may not be interested after you see what a mess it is back there.”

  “Let me get a couple of things from my truck, and then you can show me.”

  He took off for the door before she could change her mind. Outside, he gave in to the big grin he’d been fighting to hold back. Things were looking up. This development meant more time in Bridey’s company and something more constructive to do than moping around his shop waiting for a new project idea to hit.

  Shelving might be a far cry from his usual work, but at least he’d be creating something from wood again. And had he mentioned spending more time with Bridey?

  • • •

  Late Saturday afternoon, Seth walked into the coffee shop clutching the plans he’d drawn up for Bridey’s kitchen. After staying up most of the night to finish them, he hoped he’d come close to what Bridey had envisioned. If she approved the designs, he planned to tear out the old cabinets immediately and start rebuilding on Monday. Because Bridey couldn’t afford to shut down the coffee shop for the number of days it would take him to do all the work at once, he’d have to work on one section at a time. He didn’t mind, since that would stretch out the time he got to spend in her company in the cozy, inviting bakery.

  Bridey finished packing up an order for another customer before turning her attention to him. “Seth, are you sure you don’t have something better to do with your Saturday evening than ripping out my old cabinets?”

  “I promise. I brought the plans for you to look at.”

  He flexed his grip on his toolbox. It had been a long time since he’d been this nervous about presenting a client with a hand-drawn sketch of a project.

  Bridey studied the cardboard tube he’d held up. “Fiona, can you handle the counter alone for a little while? I have some business to discuss with Mr. Kyser.”

  Turning back to Seth, she smiled. “Let me fix you a coffee and grab you a snack. Then we can go over the details.”

  He waited out of the way of the other customers while Bridey fixed his drink and then followed her into the small office in the back of the shop. After motioning him to have a seat in the chair wedged into the corner, she sat down at her minuscule desk.

  When they were both settled, he traded her the cardboard tube with the plans for the coffee and muffin she’d brought in for him. “I can make changes if things aren’t exactly what you want.”

  She was already unrolling the stack of papers. He’d drawn a separate sketch for each of the different areas that she wanted to have done. Her eyes flared wide as she studied the top page.

  “Wow, Seth! Are you an architect or draftsman? I was expecting a rough sketch on notebook paper, not something so professional looking.”

  “Not an architect. Had some training, though, and I have a lot of experience working with wood.”

  As she pored over each page in turn, her expression was difficult to interpret, but that didn’t keep him from taking advantage of the chance to study her. Today she wore her dark brown hair in a messy knot high up on the back of her head, held there with what looked like a pair of chopsticks. His hands itched to tug them out and watch the dark strands tumble free. Then he’d—

  The squeak of Bridey’s chair when she leaned back to look at him cut off that line of thought.

  “I’ve got to say, Seth, these are amazing. You have quite the eye for detail, and there’s not an inch of wasted space in the designs. Seriously, it’s as if you read my mind. I have only one concern. Are you sure you can do this for the money we discussed?”

  “Yes, no problem. The materials aren’t expensive, and I own all the tools
needed to do the work. I’ll get started now, if you like what you see.”

  “I definitely like what I see.”

  A sudden influx of heat in her gray eyes seemed to accompany her words, along with a slight flush to her skin. A rush of desire hit him, but he was never very good at flirting, although it hadn’t really bothered him before now.

  He settled for giving her his best smile. With Bridey, he was content to take it slow and see where things between them led. “I’ll get started, then.”

  • • •

  Bridey followed Seth into the narrow confines of the storage room. He immediately peeled off his flannel shirt, probably because it was already warm in the small room. Ordinarily, she would have said there was plenty of space in there for two people, but right now it seemed pretty darned crowded. Seth had his back to her as he studied the old cabinets he was going to tear out. He could handle that part by himself, but she wanted to help move her supplies so she’d know where everything ended up.

  At the moment, though, she was having trouble concentrating on anything but the way the thermal shirt clung to Seth’s body, showing off an impressive set of lean muscles as he easily picked up the first fifty-pound bag of flour and carried it out of the room. On the way by, he gave her an odd look.

  Snap out of it! You’re too old to be caught gawking at a nice set of shoulders!