The Most Wonderful Time

by Fern Michaels

  When everyone was inside, they gathered around the Christmas tree. They all had a drink of some sort when Ryan said, “I would like to propose a toast.” They all gathered as close as possible and clinked their glasses together. “To the newest members of the Rogers and Heyers family!”

  He stooped down and opened the box.

  Three yellow Lab puppies jumped out of the box. One peed on Linda’s shoe, another ran into the glass window, and the third plopped on top of Brandy’s feet.

  “Merry Christmas!” Ryan said to Lily, Keira, and Matthew. “The shelter found them abandoned by their owner. I had to take all three of them,” he explained with a grin.

  Brandy picked up the little puppy and then, not caring that her children and Anna’s parents were in the room, she kissed Ryan for the first time.

  And he kissed her back.

  “Now that is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received,” Ryan said before wrapping her and the little pup in his arms.

  “Merry Christmas, everyone! I got three puppies,” Lily squealed with delight.

  Their future was so bright, they all sparkled and shone like the brilliant glow emanating from the Christmas tree. It was truly a Merry Christmas.

  A Glory Junction Christmas

  Stacy Finz

  Chapter One

  Hannah Baldwin peered out the window across Main Street to the river. They’d been working on that ancient gazebo all day. Hammering and sanding while their fingers must be frozen to the bone. With only three weeks until the wedding, she supposed Chip and Valerie didn’t have the luxury of waiting for a warm day, especially in December.

  At least the bride and groom would save on decorations. The entire downtown was decked out like a winter wonderland—no one did the holidays quite like Glory Junction, California. Luminarias lined the rooftops of the old-timey shops, ginormous colored balls dangled from the trees, garland draped every streetlight, and a menorah made by a famous sculptor shared the town’s stage with a nativity scene courtesy of Glory Be Catholic Church.

  After the ceremony Valerie and Chip were holding a reception for two hundred guests at Winter Bowl, one of the fancy ski resorts at the summit of the mountain.

  Hannah was pretty sure she was the only one in town who hadn’t gotten an invite, not that she blamed the couple. It would’ve been awkward, given that Chip was her ex-husband.

  “Did you hear the news?” Deb, Hannah’s best friend, came bursting through the door of the shop and stopped short. “You redid the whole store . . . Again!”

  Deb gazed around Glorious Gifts, letting her eyes fall on a collection of candles that Hannah had stacked in the shape of a Christmas tree next to an arrangement of dreidels, then focused on a colorful display of hand-knit sweaters.

  There were talented knitters—some even raised their own wool—in the area, and Hannah liked to promote local goods as much as possible. Near the woolens, she had an array of Delaney Scott handbags, casual wear, and party dresses. The Los Angeles fashion designer now lived a few miles away. Hannah had even managed to persuade Tawny Rodriguez to stock a few pairs of her custom cowboy boots in the store. Tawny had grown up with Hannah in Nugget, a small neighboring town, and now made boots for celebrities.

  “This is my busiest time of year,” she told Deb. “I’ve got to make the shop pop.”

  Deb let out a breath. “Is that it? Or are you doing the manic thing because you’re depressed?”

  “I’m not depressed.” Hannah began to rearrange the Christmas ornaments on the counter.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you having a hard time with this wedding. You may not be in love with Chip anymore, but it’s still got to hurt. You should take some time off, go on a trip, and use some of the money Sabine left you.”

  Two months ago, Sabine had died from ovarian cancer after being diagnosed eight months earlier, right after Chip had announced that he wanted a divorce. In one excruciating year, she’d lost the two people she was closest to. This would be her first Christmas alone in the shop and in Sabine’s Victorian cottage, the other prized possession her aunt had bequeathed her.

  “I’ll go in January,” Hannah said, and shivered as she watched the bundled-up passersby. “Maybe a tropical beach.”

  Deb nudged her head at the window with the prime view of the gazebo. “That sort of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”

  “I can’t go now, not during the Christmas rush. Who’ll run the store?”

  “I could do it for you.”

  Deb had good intentions and was the kindest person Hannah knew, but responsibility and work ethic . . . not exactly strong points. Deb could barely hold down her waitressing job. Skiing, river rafting, and mountain biking were her first priorities. Like a lot of people in Glory Junction, Deb lived to play. Work just paid for the equipment.

  “Thanks, but Sabine would want me to be here for her first Christmas away from the store.” Hannah knew it would end any further argument from Deb, who like everyone else in town had loved Sabine, too.

  “You should at least get out a little. I don’t think you’ve had a day off since the funeral. And leave the store alone, it looks great. You’re just making yourself crazy. Tonight we should go to Old Glory, have a couple of beers, and shoot pool.”

  Hannah let out a groan. “That’s Chip’s hangout.”

  “Not anymore.”

  Chip was a recovering alcoholic. Sober 394 days, the first ninety in rehab. When she’d gone to pick him up from Napa Meadows, he’d been wearing a suit. In all the time she’d known him, barring his high school graduation and their wedding, he’d never worn a tie, let alone a jacket.

  She’d helped him load his luggage into the trunk and wrapped her arms around him. When she went to kiss him, he pulled away, giving her a weary smile. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

  At the time, Hannah thought it was a bizarre thing to say. She was his wife; of course she’d pick him up. “I’m so proud of you, Chip.”

  They’d gotten in the car, Chip in the passenger seat. He turned to face her, his eyes wet, and said, “I’m sorry that I was a drunk and that I let you down. I’m sorry that I stole the entire nine years of our marriage.”

  He’d already apologized profusely many times. It was part of the program—making amends.

  Taking the Silverado Trail from the rehab center to the highway, they passed winery after winery, tasting room after tasting room where the region’s famed cabernet, merlot, and chardonnay ran freely. The irony wasn’t lost on Hannah.

  “We’ll start fresh, Chip.” She reached for his hand.

  The silence stretched long as the country road when Chip finally replied, “I’ve done a lot of thinking in the past three months and the thing is . . . I don’t love you. Not the way I’m supposed to.”

  Perhaps she should’ve been prepared for that. There had been all kinds of signs during rehab. He’d refused to take her calls, to let her visit, and his e-mails had been filled with trivialities: the weather, what he and the other “inmates” had been served for dinner, or inanities about a television show he’d watched. Never once had he said he missed her or loved her. She’d managed to convince herself that in his new sober state he was deeply ashamed. That it would take time to rebuild their relationship.

  Yet, the words “I don’t love you” made her throat close up and she swerved to the side of the road. “Chip,” she said, turning to face him. “What are you saying?”

  Pausing for what seemed like an eternity, he finally said, “I’m sorry, Hannah, I want a divorce.”

  There it was, out in the open, everything she’d come to suspect but was too afraid to admit to herself. Still, it didn’t stop her from wanting to scream, sob, even slap him. After all those years of finding him passed out on the floor, cleaning up his vomit, making excuses to their friends and families, lying to everyone they knew, he was finally sober. The new and sober Chip didn’t love her anymore. And she knew why. He was in love with someone else.

  Han
nah was too hurt to realize she was relieved. That would come later. For so long she’d been hiding from the truth—just as she had with Chip’s drinking—that their passion for each other had expired a long time ago. Still, a divorce . . . Nine years. Nine freaking years.

  Too afraid that any little outburst would drive him to the bottle again, she drove the three hours home in silence, dying a little more with each passing mile.

  “Well?” Deb said, bringing her back to the present. “Old Glory, you up for it?”

  “All right.” What the hell? “I’ll meet you there as soon as I close the shop.”

  “It’ll be fun.” Deb played with one of the hand-knit infinity scarves, looping it around her neck in the mirror. “How long before you open?”

  “Twenty minutes. When does your shift start at the Morning Glory?”

  “Same time. Felix has a new cook. He wants me to help out in the kitchen and cover the counter.” The diner couldn’t seem to keep cooks.

  “Ten seems kind of late for the breakfast shift.”

  “He has me on lunch today. I’m hoping to get on the slopes by four. That should give me two hours before it gets dark.” Deb grabbed one of the Delaney Scott dresses off the rack and held it against her. “What do you think?”

  “That it would look amazing on you.” Deb had the kind of body guys drooled over. Only one man was immune, and of course he was the one Deb wanted. “You look at the price? Even with the whopping discount I’d give you, it’s a lot of tips.”

  She found the tag and her eyes grew round. “Jeez, people can actually afford this stuff?”

  The tourists could for sure and nowadays even the locals. While it would not have been the case years ago, the town residents had changed from ski bums and back-to-the-land hippies to professional athletes and tech moguls. They were much more affluent now. There was even a landing strip so San Franciscans and Los Angelinos could zip up in their private planes for a weekend in their ski condo or lake chalet. Otherwise it was a three-and-a-half-hour drive from the Bay Area and seven hours from SoCal.

  These days, Glory Junction boasted a Four Seasons Hotel, a couple of high-end restaurants closer to the ski resorts, and three Starbucks, which seemed excessive for a town with a population of only ten thousand. Hannah thought all the glitzy growth was kind of nauseating, though her cash register didn’t complain.

  Then again, she came from a working-class railroad town half the size of Glory Junction, and even Nugget had a posh bed-and-breakfast now. Hey, it was California. Expansion was inevitable.

  “Try this.” She pulled another dress from one of the racks and handed it to Deb. “It’s a quarter of the price and you’ll rock it.”

  Deb examined the label and scowled. “It’s not a Delaney Scott.”

  “Nope. That’s why you can afford it. Slip it on before your shift starts at the diner.”

  Deb disappeared behind the dressing-room door and came out a few minutes later.

  “What do you think?” She did a little twirl.

  It hugged her curves and accentuated her long, shapely legs just like Hannah knew it would. “It’s got your name on it.”

  “Can you hold it for me until payday?”

  “You can take it. It’s my gift to you.”

  “Hannah.” Deb put her hands on her hips. “Don’t give me stuff.”

  “Call it an early Christmas present. I know you want it for the Garners’ party—”

  “Oh my God, that’s what I came in to tell you. Josh is home. They’re having a big pancake breakfast for him at the VFW. I signed us up to be servers.”

  Hannah had already heard from Mary Garner that her son was returning from Afghanistan. She was happy for the Garners, who were like a second family to Hannah. But there had always been weirdness between her and Josh. In fact, she suspected that Josh, Chip’s best friend, blamed her for enabling her ex’s addiction. Whatever the reason, Josh had always been cold to her and she hated how much it bothered her.

  “You should’ve asked first,” Hannah said. At this point in her life she didn’t need Josh’s righteous indignation.

  “Since you’re a member of the Glory Junction Chamber of Commerce, I thought you’d want to be involved. Josh is a war hero.”

  His leg had been shattered in a roadside bombing while he tried to save other soldiers. Despite the tension between them, the idea of him being injured made her ache. And the uncomfortable truth was she wanted to see him.

  Hannah looked at her best friend knowingly. “You signed us up because Win will be there.”

  “So?” Deb shrugged. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to show Josh support . . . I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for him.”

  Hannah couldn’t argue with that. He’d always been so strong and athletic—and reckless. Not surprising since the Garner family was in the extreme sports and adventure business. Before Josh had gone off to college and the army, he’d worked for his parents, leading rock-climbing tours, ski expeditions, and river-rafting trips. For as long as Hannah could remember, Mary and Gray’s four sons had spent their weekends, holidays, and summers working in the family business.

  Deb checked her watch. “I’ve got to get.” She dashed back into the dressing room and came out a few minutes later in her black waitressing clothes.

  “Take the dress,” Hannah called to her. “I need to make room for new inventory.”

  Deb handed it to her. “Keep it for me until tonight. I don’t want it to smell like a deep fryer. See you at Old Glory at around seven.”

  After Deb left, Hannah wrapped the dress in tissue paper and put it in one of her new Glorious Gifts canvas bags. Last year, the town had outlawed plastic bags and required shop owners to charge ten cents for paper. Hannah upgraded to canvas and just gave them away. What the heck? With her logo emblazoned on the front, the totes were free advertising.

  She unlocked the front door and turned the sign to OPEN. A few minutes later, Win, the youngest Garner, strolled in, carrying a green protein shake from the Juicery.

  “Can I hide in here for a few minutes?”

  “Of course,” Hannah said. “Who you hiding from?”

  “Rita Tucker. She’s been chasing me all over town . . . wants me to be in her porn calendar.”

  Hannah laughed. “It’s a good cause.” Every year, Rita photographed the local hunks in provocative poses to raise money for the volunteer fire department. The calendars sold like hotcakes.

  “She wants me to be Mr. December in nothing but a Santa hat and a piece of mistletoe covering my you-know-what. First of all, there’s not a mistletoe plant on God’s green earth large enough for that. And second of all, it’s exploitation. I’ve got a brain and feelings inside all this brawn, you know?”

  She stifled a laugh, since Win ran around in nothing but board shorts all summer long. “Tell her you want to wear something more modest.”

  “Everyone wants a piece of this.” He ran his hands down his impressive chest, flashed a cheeky grin, and wandered the store, picking up various items here and there and generally making a mess of her displays.

  “I hear Josh is back.”

  “Yep. You going to the shindig on Saturday at the VFW?”

  “Deb signed us up to be servers,” Hannah said.

  Win came back to the front counter and downed the rest of his protein shake. “Good. He could use some pretty women making a fuss over him.”

  As long as Hannah had known Josh he hadn’t needed anyone making anything over him. Even at sixteen, he’d been overly confident and aloof.

  “I heard about his leg.”

  Win got quiet, his eyes growing distant. “He’s having a rough time. But Garners are tough. We’ll get him back.”

  Two middle-aged women opened the door, letting in a rush of cold air as they deliberated on whether to come in. One of the women lasered in on the Delaney Scott handbags and made a beeline for the display.

  “I’ll catch you later, Hannah,” Win said.

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nbsp; She watched through the plate-glass window as he crossed the cobblestone street to the Riverwalk, where he greeted Chip.

  “Let me know if you ladies need any help,” she told the customers who had now moved on to the knitwear.

  “You have some lovely things here,” one of the women said. “We’re up from the Bay Area.”

  “Are you staying at one of the ski resorts?” There were five in total. From Main Street you could see the chairlifts and gondolas going up and down the mountainside. Some called Glory Junction the Western equivalent of St. Moritz without the hefty price tag.

  “Winter Bowl,” she said. “Neither of us ski but our families do.”

  Hannah didn’t ski either. Even though her hometown was only thirty minutes away, kids there couldn’t afford the luxury of lift tickets and rental equipment. Since Nugget was largely a ranching community, the young folks there entertained themselves horseback riding, competing in junior rodeo, and participating in 4-H.

  “There’s plenty to do in town,” she told the ladies. “Good restaurants, too.”

  “We heard there were horse carriage rides.”

  “They don’t start until a week or so before Christmas.” Although Hannah had heard chatter that the company might start tacking on a few extra weeks with so many more people visiting right after Thanksgiving to see Glory Junction’s holiday displays. “You may want to check in with Garner Adventure next door. They do various tours that might interest you.”

  The women perked up and the one who’d been doing most of the talking said, “We’ll do that. Thanks for the suggestion.”

  Forty minutes later, they left, weighed down with shopping bags. If the day kept going like this, Hannah would make her daily sales quota in no time. At noon she called in an order to the Morning Glory Diner and closed the shop for ten minutes to run across the street to fetch her lunch. She ate a tuna melt and fries in her tiny office, keeping an ear to the front door. Customers trickled in throughout the afternoon—all in a buying mood. The holidays tended to loosen people’s wallets.