Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

  He was asking her opinion? “That could work, if the amount was worth it. Maybe a mix of cash and store credit.”

  He nodded. “We don’t have much to work with but that incentive would get the employees talking up deals at the registers.”

  Keira winced at the impersonal sounding description. “Many of the employees are having hard times this year. That kind of contest would definitely be a win-win.”

  He nodded. “Great, that takes care of infrastructure for now. Also, I contacted that Trav kid. You weren’t kidding, he’s absolutely plugged in. I’m getting him set up at the store with an online war room as it were. He’s got some friends to help, they just need direction. Any ideas for a social media buzz starter?”

  He certainly didn’t waste time. Keira turned back to face the road. She did appreciate his asking for her thoughts. But the focus on numbers and lingo, and words like infrastructure, got under her skin. Where was the connection?

  They passed the white-flocked pine trees on either side, lining the road like frosted cookies on upright cookie racks. Keira loved the richness of their scent and the symbol of the season.

  The Hope Tree.

  She turned back to Tayton. “What if you did something like find the Hope Tree, a Where’s Waldo type thing? Maybe make a miniature version and take it around Echo Ridge, but places where good is happening. The people outside of town can see the amazing sites of this place. And, we connect it with the giving. The Hope Tree was here…I don’t know. Relate it to, look for the Hope Tree in your life. Something like that?”

  Tayton nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that could work. It would reach teens and adults alike. In fact, we could have the teens involved in putting the tree in unusual places, keep a sense of humor.”

  Keira paused. “But then, how does that specifically help with the numbers?”

  Tayton paused for a moment. “What if we hide the tree, then make it a contest. Whoever spots the Hope Tree first gets an amount donated to their gift-giving of choice, purchased of course at Kenworth’s?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Nice work, Keira.” He glanced at her. “This could be really good for numbers and reach. I’ll get Trav on it.”

  Despite the thrill that went through her at his praise, Keira felt the disconnect of his focus. This wasn’t about only percentages, it was about people.

  Erik guided Tayton where to go. Their first stop was a small housing development barely outside the city limits— decent but not dirty.

  Tayton glanced in the rearview mirror. “What we’re looking for, Erik, is some wide angles to set the scene, a few close ups of the faces, that kind of thing.”

  Keira’s stomach clenched. “You know, this particular family may not appreciate that. From what I understand from the info card, their dad lost his job and they’re doing their best—”

  “Don’t worry, Erik seems like a pro. We can do side shots if needed, blur out some faces, capture only the core moments. Okay, I think we’re here.”

  Keira frowned. The warm thoughts from only moments before immediately froze in the wake of once again feeling mowed over and misunderstood.

  They pulled in front of a reasonably-sized stucco home. Keira looked up and down the street. Usually the tree gifts were for extremely needy people. But maybe with the dad just losing his job it was more serious than it appeared.

  Tayton unloaded the first box and insisted on carrying the weight. All three gathered on the doorstep while Keira rang the doorbell. They rang again, clearly hearing sounds of a video game. The door opened by a hefty boy who looked to be about 12, with a kindergartner at the TV holding onto controls and staring at the doorway.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  Keira frowned. Were they at the right place? “Yes, we’re here from Kenworth’s to deliver the Hope Tree gifts. Is your mom or dad home? Can we—”

  “Kenworth’s— the store?” He grabbed the box and ripped the large red bow off the top, prying up the lid while Tayton tried to balance it. “What’s the haul thing this year? Wait— clothes? You got us clothes?” He rolled his eyes and forced the box to the ground, rifling through the contents quickly. “Food and clothes? No GameStarts? I know Kenworth’s has got those.” He shook his head. “Whatever. Garrett, get over here. Now.” It was then Keira noticed a couch in the semi-darkness. A man was stretched out in a deep sleep. The young boy put down the controls and hurried to the front door, glassy-eyed and obedient. He took the box inside. The 12-year-old turned back to the trio.

  “OK, got it. I guess better luck next year, right?” With that, he shut the door.

  For a moment, no one said anything. Keira stood, shell-shocked at what had just happened. Every year they delivered a few of the gifts personally to stay in touch with the community, and never had they been received like this.

  Tayton hazarded a glance at Keira. “Well, that was one for the books. Did you get that, Erik?” He half-smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. With a soft gesture, he guided Keira as they walked to the Land Rover. “I’m sorry.” He said it quietly but with kindness. Keira only nodded.

  In the car, Erik consulted his camera and notes. “Well, that was shorter than we thought. One more, right? The trailer park.”

  Tayton sat in the driver’s seat and turned to Keira. “Are you up for it?”

  Not wanting to seem the damsel in emotional distress, she nodded brightly. “Sure.” She didn’t want the media take on this to be a parade of emotions but neither did she want to eliminate people’s desire to give. Maybe the Hope Tree wasn’t the ideal vehicle she had thought it would be, especially this year when it really counted. And now they were going to the trailer park. If there was ever a place that would be jaded, this would be it. Keira offered a silent prayer that somehow this experience could be a positive for the people receiving it, and for the store in some way.

  After driving another fifteen minutes, they turned off the main road at a dilapidated sign, “Welcome to Maple Haven Homes.” The irony wasn’t lost on any of them. For at least two miles sat nothing but worn out trailer roofs, like rows of gray Legos. Dirty snow in makeshift piles separated one place from another. Rusty bicycles and car parts lay strewn about, dogs leashed to houses barked incessantly, and haphazardly dressed children of various ages ran about. Keira shivered just watching them. Two people argued in a foreign language. The acrid smell of smoke and oil grease hung in the air, oddly mingled with Asian stir fry and old garbage.

  Tayton stood still, taking it in, not saying a word. A hulking man in leather biker gear and a Bowie knife on his hip walked out of one of the homes. Tayton instinctively stood slightly in front of Keira. The man eyeballed the group then headed down the main path. Keira watched him for a moment then consulted the address and pointed to the right of them. She’d delivered down here every year and knew a little of how to get around. And what went on. Unfortunately, she’d left her pepper spray in her purse. In the car. Which she hoped Tayton had locked.

  After a few minutes they reached the right place. Keira approached the screen door cautiously, peering into the home for signs of an adult. Empty brown beer bottles lay scattered on the floor. A baby cried from the other room and the smell of burnt food wafted through the screen. A cautiousness rose within her.

  Tayton glanced at Keira as if to ask if he should do it, but she smiled confidently and knocked on the door.

  A skinny blond boy with shaggy hair in his eyes came to the door. He awkwardly held a blonde baby girl almost as big as he was. He had to be all of ten, but with his torn T-shirt and shorts it was hard to tell. The girl clung to him, wide-eyed, while sucking on a thick strand of her hair.

  He stood warily, staring at the group through tired bloodshot eyes. “Are you from child services?”

  Keira paused, trying not to show emotion. “No, we’re not. We’re from Kenworth’s, the store in town?”

  No recognition.

  “We’re here with a Christmas box. With food. And clothes.” She glanc
ed at the girl. “And toys— for both of you.”

  The boy blinked, then noticed the box. “I have another brother. He’s six months old. Do you have something for him?”

  Tayton and Keira instinctively glanced at each other, wordlessly sharing their thoughts. She turned back and he placed the box on the ground. Opening the lid, Keira knelt and showed some of the contents. “Yes, we do. Some formula and diapers and toys. Can you open the door for us to give it to you?”

  A sound came from the back room. His eyes darted toward it. A disheveled woman missing several teeth stood in the bedroom doorway. A baby screamed louder and a man shouted. The woman hollered something unintelligible to the boy. He turned back to the three of them, still hefting his sister. “I gotta get the soup, it’s burning. You can leave the box on the step.”

  He waited a moment for the woman in the bedroom doorway to recede. Then he nervously stepped closer to the screen. In a whisper he said, “Is that really all for us?”

  Still kneeling before him, Keira nodded.

  “No cost?” He gazed at a donated ham with a longing that almost broke her heart. “How come?”

  She could have answered in a hundred different ways but she leaned closer to the screen door. “Because it’s Christmas. Because people care about you. Just like a little baby boy born on Christmas morning cares about you. Even when you don’t know it.”

  She put her hand up to the screen door and lay her palm flat on it. He reached out one hand, letting the girl stand on the floor, and placed his palm gingerly on the other side, touching through the mesh. “We wanted to tell you: you are known. And you are loved.”

  Solemnly he gazed at her. “Are you an angel?”

  Backlit by the sun with her loose strawberry blonde curls framing her face and down to her shoulders, she expected it may look that way. Keira fought her emotions. Together, she and the boy stayed in that moment, hands touching through the screen, an almost surreal feeling of warmth and reality mixed into one.

  The woman’s shrill voice came again and the boy jumped, stepping back into the room. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking, then he tugged his sister and closed the door.

  All three silently returned to the car on the main road. Once inside, Keira couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down her cheeks, thinking of that brave little boy. Tayton stared at the road but discreetly reached down between the seats and squeezed her hand.

  After dropping Erik at the store, Tayton sat with Keira for a moment longer. “Keira, I owe you an apology. I get it.” He turned his head toward her, his deep brown eyes thoughtful and aware. “I get that they’re people, not promotional angles. I’m sorry I…I lost sight of that.”

  Keira allowed him to search her eyes, her face and what felt like her soul. “Thank you, Tayton. For…everything.” His protectiveness of her, his care for the child, his apology. Already in less than 24 hours she’d had to change her perception of this downtown New Yorker.

  He looked at her for a moment then back to the windshield. “I’ll call you later. I need to think.” She nodded. This had surely thrown a curve ball for both of them. Her idea of the actual Hope Tree maybe wasn’t going to work like she thought. His numbers-only focus wasn’t getting to the root of it. Time was ticking and the store’s success depended on their promotional ideas working. They needed a bigger idea.

  Tayton sat in the leather chair in his plush resort room until the sun set, thinking. Thoughts ticker-taped through him. Keira at the lighting ceremony— exuberant and glowing. At the diner, spit-fire and frustrated, but listening. Delivering gifts— kind, sincere, and gentle. Everything inside him screamed, Stay focused. But then her face, or the smell of apple blossoms from her hair, the sway of her walking and her easy laugh... She had caught him how many times staring at her but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

  And the conversation— him talking swagger, trying to prove what, exactly? Prove that he knew what he was doing? Show her that he was on it? Idiot. He could see it only distanced her. And that wasn’t the idea. In fact, he admired her ideas, her creativity and the connection focus. He’d only been trying to share the facts.

  He growled and ran a hand through his hair. What a mess. And now he had to come up with something else. Sure the Hope Tree could fly and in actuality it was a good plan. But no way could he use that footage from today, nor would he. Not after understanding what she was saying about exploitation.

  But what now?

  His cell phone buzzed and he robotically answered. “Yeah?”

  “Tayton, Erik. I need you to see this. You got a minute?”

  He blew out a breath. “No, don’t worry about it. It didn’t work like we thought.” Or I thought.

  “Just five minutes. I’ll send you the link to look at it.” Tayton hung up and headed to his laptop.

  He opened the link to find a rough footage ad. After the first time viewing it, he sat back in wonder. Then he watched it three more times.

  Maybe good could come out of this after all.

  KEIRA FINISHED CHECKING ON THE various departments at Kenworth’s and headed home. The displays were festive and appropriate, and the employees remained positive. At least that was good. She blew out a breath. They needed more marketing pizzazz— events, sales, something that drew the community in and, as Tayton said, that moved product.

  Kiera’s phone buzzed. The man himself. “Hey, Tayton.”

  “Hey, there.” That low, rumbling voice would be the end of her. “Listen, I’m almost to the city— I wanted to show you something. Does the store have a decent TV somewhere?”

  “Like for employees? No, but I have one at home.” Keira’s pulse heightened. Why had she said that out loud? Sure, he seemed like a good person but also a virtual stranger. Therefore, suggesting that they use her TV was a totally unwise move in every single respect. “You could come to my house just down the street.” Stop. Speaking. “Well, I live in my family’s house. But I have an aunt who stops in twice a week.”

  Nice. Now trying to warn him that protecting her and her home was an elderly aunt?

  He sounded momentarily confused. “Well, okay, yeah, that’s great, if you’re good with it. This won’t take long.”

  Finishing the short distance to her quaint family home, Keira wondered if she had done the right thing.

  She waited for Tayton to arrive. Together, they entered the two-story red brick home with traditional white pillars in front, greeted with the smell of hardwood floors, pine, and citrus.

  Tayton stepped in. “Wow, this is amazing. What is this, circa 1940?”

  “Very good, about 1942.” She flipped on the gas fireplace. “It was restored a few years back, but once restored, always needing more restoration.”

  “I hear that. My sister’s house is about this same period, a decade or so different. The upkeep is constant. They’re always finding something new to ‘restore,’ which translates to expensive.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tucker, her golden cocker spaniel, hurried over to Tayton and wagged his tail like a new best buddy. Keira shooed him. “Come on, have some respect for yourself. Who feeds you, hmm? Talk about fair-weathered.” She gave him a few Kibble Bones then he made himself a fixture by Tayton. “So sorry.”

  “No, dogs are good. Easy to understand— not complicated.”

  “You know it.” She invited him to sit down. He chose not to sit by her on the couch but took the worn blue rocker with the back cushion she had embroidered for her mother— “It’ll all work out.” Tayton sat for a minute with Tucker steady by, panting softly. He reached down to rub the dog’s ears. A wave of sadness washed over Keira.

  He paused. “Did I do something wrong?”

  She shook her head and got a hold of herself. “Oh, no, so sorry. That’s my dad’s favorite chair.”

  He didn’t know whether to get up or stay seated. She smiled. “He’s been in a care center since mom passed. It’s fine, you’re good. Let me get the
cable for the TV. Where’s your laptop?”

  Tayton reached beside the chair and unzipped his bag. He took the cable from Keira, standing much too close as she explained the older TV, unnecessarily as he seemed to be familiar with whatever she presented him. After setting things up, he walked over and sat down, facing her.

  “I need you to keep an open mind. I took what you said the other day seriously, about not exploiting the whole gift-giving thing. I wasn’t going to do it. But later, Erik showed me his own version. I went in and finessed it to keep your vision. At least I think.”

  He cued the video. At first, she felt confusion as she could see it was a promotional commercial. “What do you want more of this Christmas?” The question flashed on a beautiful graphic template, then faded.

  The handheld look of a camera showed them walking to the door of the trailer home. Anger started in her stomach— what was he doing? But as the image continued, questions entered and faded from the screen— ”More loving words. More kind acts. More Hope. More Christ, this Christmas.”

  Throughout the narrative ran video in the background of the little boy, although his face was hardly seen, and his audio response at the door. As the video neared an end, you could hear the boy’s whispered, “Thank you,” followed by Tayton’s voice-over. “Join Kenworth’s in giving Hope to those who have none. Give through the Hope Tree. Donations with every purchase go to those in need. This year, make your Christmas meaningful at Kenworth’s.”

  The screen returned to blue and Keira sat very still, feeling the wetness on her cheek. When had the tears started? Turning in surprise to Tayton, she felt it further with the softness in his own eyes.

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Tayton, it’s beautiful, and poignant. It’s not exploitive. It’s inspiring and hope-giving. How did you do this?”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We used what we had and did it carefully to protect his identity. But I have to tell you, as soon as I saw it, I knew it— this is Christmas. It’s putting a picture to the connection you wanted and the reach we need. And you came up with it.”