Small Town Christmas (Blue Harbor Book 4)

by Olivia Miles

  “I wish I could take credit for it, but I don’t think I can.” He gave her a meaningful look until she was forced to look away. She could feel her earlier blush returning, damn it!

  “Georgie mentioned that she usually spends Christmas with her mother,” Cora said, hoping that she wasn’t prying too much. Georgie spoke openly about her mother, and her life, but Phil was definitely more private about things.

  Phil nodded, and then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. When my ex moved out to California, we had an agreement that we’d share the holidays. But the first holiday that was supposed to be mine, I had a business emergency that required me to be out of town. Couldn’t let the deal fall apart.” He paused for a moment, his mouth tensing. “Long story short, after more legal battles, Georgie has stayed with her mother for the majority of the time. I’ve been able to get out to California for a couple long weekends, and Georgie has flown out for a school break or a few days each summer, too.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a lot of time,” Cora said, frowning.

  Phil arched his eyebrows. “It’s not, and it hasn’t been easy. My work is demanding. It’s definitely been difficult to balance with a personal life. Having Georgie halfway across the country hasn’t made things any easier.”

  Cora smiled. “Well, at least she’ll be closer now that her mother is moving back to the Midwest.”

  Phil’s smile was tight. He didn’t say anything as he scooped more ice cream onto his spoon.

  “Daddy?” Georgie appeared beside him, the evidence of a melted ice cream snowman on her mouth and chin. “I’m hungry.”

  Phil slanted a glance at Cora, who tried not to giggle. “Hungry? You just ate a sundae.”

  “Yes, but now I’m hungry for real food. Like, dinner.”

  Phil’s entire expression went blank. “I was supposed to swing by the grocery store today.”

  “For more of those microwavable meals?” Georgie cried, loud enough for more than one patron to hear and turn to stare.

  Cora sputtered on her last spoonful of ice cream. Phil’s ears had gone red now.

  “Well, for other things too. It’s Saturday night. There are places in town to eat. How does that sound?”

  “I want to be near the Christmas tree,” Georgie said. “Before you know it, it has to come down.”

  “Tell me about it. I still haven’t decorated mine yet.” She glanced at Phil, feeling her heart speed up.

  Georgie looked at her with surprise. “I thought you didn’t have a tree?”

  Cora shrugged. “Well, someone thought I needed one.”

  “I can help!” Georgie exclaimed. “We can order pizza and help, right, Dad?”

  Cora slid her eyes to Phil who was giving her a funny look. “I happen to know a thing or two about decorating trees, thanks to this Christmas lady I met,” he said. His smoky eyes glimmered. “And I do think you were the one who said that decorating a tree is something that should be shared, not done alone?”

  Despite the ice cream, Cora felt as warm inside as if she’d just drank a mug full of hot chocolate. “Okay then!”

  It was, as Phil might call it, a date.

  *

  With Phil’s assistance and Georgie’s advice, they selected ornaments from the store and carried them upstairs to the bare tree that was waiting in Cora’s front window. Phil made a call for the pizza while Cora and Georgie strung the lights, and Cora opened a bottle of wine while Phil turned on the Christmas music.

  When he caught her look of surprise, he said, “I figured you’d want some background music. You know, to set the mood.”

  She couldn’t hide her grin. He was getting in the spirit of things, and not just playing along for Georgie’s sake.

  “Won’t you need to sell all these ornaments in the store?” Georgie asked as they unboxed a collection of Nutcracker-themed ornaments.

  Cora laughed away the concern. “I have so much merchandise, that I don’t need to worry. Besides, this is one of the perks of owning a holiday shop.”

  “Did you always want to own a shop?” Phil asked from the other side of the tree.

  “It wasn’t something I’d thought of specifically,” Cora admitted. She tried to remember what she’d ever wanted to do with her life and couldn’t remember back that far. Once her mother got sick, she stopped looking to the future, she supposed. “I just knew that I loved the way Christmas made me feel. It brought out the best in my family, and in this town, and it was something that I wanted to hold onto, all year long. Having that shop made it possible.”

  Phil didn’t say anything to that, but then, she supposed a guy who didn’t bother to celebrate the holiday most years wouldn’t understand.

  But his grandparents did.

  “When I told you grandmother that I wanted to open a holiday shop, she was thrilled. Her enthusiasm was actually what gave me the confidence to go through with it.”

  Phil arched an eyebrow, as if surprised by this, but then gave a little smile. “She did always love Christmas.”

  “You didn’t want to spend the holiday with them this year?” Cora asked. Even though she hated the thought of Phil and Georgie leaving town early, she didn’t like the thought of the Keatons being alone for Christmas either.

  Phil looked momentarily taken aback. “I never…I mean, well, I’m usually working on Christmas, and…I guess I figured that they were used to being on their own for the day.”

  “Oh, they were never on their own,” Cora said pleasantly. She gestured to the window, where the lights from Main Street twinkled in the dusk. “They had an entire community to share it with.”

  Sensing that she had touched upon a sensitive topic, she said, “But I’m sure they have a new community now, if that facility is as nice as you say it is.”

  “Not as nice as Blue Harbor,” Phil admitted sheepishly.

  “Very few places are,” Cora said kindly. She reached for another box of ornaments and popped it open. “But then, other than Evening Island, I don’t really get out much.”

  “The shop keeps you that busy?” Phil asked.

  Cora considered this. There were some weeks of the year where she had no business at all. The gap between Valentine’s Day and Easter was the slowest, and September was slow, too. “The tourists keep things very busy in the summer, actually.”

  “Good, that’s good.”

  “Good for me. And good for your grandparents,” Cora said with a laugh.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about the cottage and his plans for it. He hadn’t mentioned visiting the real estate office the other day and she wasn’t one to pry. But if the Keatons weren’t returning to town and if Georgie loved it here so much, wouldn’t it make sense for Phil to consider buying the place for himself, for weekends and summers?

  The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts, and Phil went downstairs to collect the pizza.

  “Back door,” Cora informed him. “Everyone knows the front door is only for the shop.”

  “Good to know,” Phil said in a way that made Cora think he was stowing that bit of information aside, just like a local would.

  They ate their pizza on the floor, under the Christmas tree, and Cora had to admit that after experiencing a tree all of her own, she’d never go back on that again.

  And maybe, she thought, glancing at the two new people in her life, she wouldn’t have to.

  “Oh!” she said, jumping up. “We forgot the most important part.”

  She left her curious guests in the living room and hurried downstairs to the shop, where the angel tree topper was resting on the top branch of a medium-sized tree near the counter. Standing on her tip toes, she carefully brought it down. She held it close, feeling protective, and revealed it proudly once she was back inside.

  “We can’t finish the tree without the angel. Georgie, do you want to do the honors?”

  Georgie carefully took the tree topper from Cora, and Phil hoisted her up, until the angel was standing tall and proud on
the top of the tree.

  “It’s right where it belongs,” Cora said aloud. Immediately, she felt her cheeks flush. “Sorry,” she said, slanting a glance at Phil. “It just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without that angel on top of a tree.”

  “It wouldn’t feel like Christmas without a lot of things, this night included,” Phil said quietly.

  His gaze roamed her face, and for a moment, the entire room seemed to fall silent.

  Until a well-known children’s carol came on the radio and Georgie began to sing along, at high volume.

  “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “I should probably get Georgie home to bed.”

  Georgie let out a groan of protest. “But I don’t want the fun to end!”

  Me either, kid, Cora wanted to say. Instead she fell back on her old habit to find something look forward to. This time it was easy.

  “But did you know that the Winter Carnival is just a few days away? It all kicks off Friday night. There are games and music and food.”

  “And snow?”

  Cora laughed. “I hope!” Though she knew that even if by some strange chance the snow were to melt between now and then, Bart would bring in his snow machine and put it to good use. “This far north, the chance of the snow melting before March is pretty slim. The important part is that it started before Christmas, so it will be here to stay. What’s Christmas without snow?”

  “Try living in California,” Georgie grumbled.

  Cora gave Phil a wry grin as they put back on their coats. “Thank you. For the pizza. And…for tonight.”

  “Consider it an early Christmas gift,” he said with a wink.

  10

  Phil had taken Georgie to dinner at most of the inns that lined Main Street, along with the pizza parlor, but tonight Georgie wanted to try the Firefly Café next to the bakery. Phil wavered, knowing that Cora’s sister owned the place, but then told himself that maybe this was a good thing. Maybe he could learn a little more about the proprietor of the holiday shop, see if there was any chance of making this entire situation better than it was turning out to be.

  Though looking at his daughter’s face as she stared at the lights of Main Street, he wasn’t sure how he could top this.

  “Can we come back here again this summer so you can teach me how to fish?” Georgie asked as they made their way down the side street toward the small building that housed the bakery and café.

  Phil didn’t want to crush his daughter’s spirit, even though the answer should be a simple one. This summer he’d be overseas, something he’d been planning for a long time, something he’d been excited about…until now. Usually he lived for the rush that came with each new business deal, long after he’d had enough money in his bank account to make it worth his while. But now he felt that same rush every time Georgie laughed, or took his hand, or gave him a hug goodnight.

  He was bonding with his daughter. Basking in her love. And he was falling for a kind, beautiful woman.

  Wasn’t this all that most people needed out of life?

  Not his father, he reminded himself. He’d scorned that way of life in his parents and he would do so in Phil, too. Growing up it had all been about the accomplishment, not the effort. Didn’t matter if Phil played a good game on the soccer field. What mattered was that they’d won. Didn’t matter that Phil sat alone on Christmas, or in a stuffy restaurant, bored and lonely. He’d gotten that expensive new video game system, hadn’t he?

  Eventually, the desire to please his father, to connect with him, had morphed into his own way of life.

  But here was his daughter, his child, just trying to connect with him.

  In the most simplest of ways.

  “It’s too cold to think about summer just yet,” he said, hoping to change the topic. He motioned to the building as they approached, each window framed in lights, the front glass-paned door bearing a wreath made of sleigh bells. “Besides, all I can think about now is food!”

  “Me too,” Georgie said happily. “Especially since it’s not frozen pizza!”

  The Firefly Café was, like most places in town, completely decorated for the holidays. Garland, tinsel, lights, wreaths, even a small red and green floral arrangement on each table.

  Georgie lapped it up, especially the children’s menu, which turned out to be a coloring contest of sorts.

  “Every kid who helps me decorate my tree gets a free dessert,” the woman who was visibly Cora’s sister said when she motioned to the tree covered in paper ornaments, some colored carefully, others not so much.

  “I’m an expert at decorating trees,” Georgie informed her. “We decorated our own tree and I also helped decorate Cora’s tree.”

  The woman’s eyebrows shot up as she glanced at Phil. “Cora happens to be my sister. I’m Amelia,” she said warmly, clearly giving him the once-over.

  Phil had prepared himself for this. As Cora pointed out—it was a small town. He couldn’t hide his friendliness with Cora anymore than he could have hidden the fact that he was the Keatons’ grandson.

  “Phil Keaton,” he said. “And my daughter, Georgie.”

  “I heard that you were related to the Keatons! Sorry, word travels in small towns,” Amelia said apologetically.

  Phil chewed the inside of his cheek uneasily, wondering if word of his plans for the properties might have traveled too.

  But Amelia just smiled and said, “I love your grandparents. They used to come in here nearly every Saturday night and sit right over there at that table.” She gestured to the window. “They’re certainly missed.”

  Phil wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He was pretty certain that his grandparents must miss it here, too, though how would he know? He barely visited. Didn’t have time. He’d set them up, paid for their expenses, took over their affairs, much the same way that he had paid for Georgie’s private school tuition, sent her expensive gifts, asked his assistant to show her a good time when she came for a visit.

  He’d assumed everyone was happy that way, taken care of—that he had made their lives easier, the best way he knew how.

  Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  He wasn’t sure of anything.

  “Well,” Amelia said, “I’m actually heading out early this evening. I’m hosting a Christmas party at my house for some of the ladies in town.”

  “Not that I was invited,” said Candy, as she joined the conversation, pushing close to Amelia. She gave her a mock scolding look.

  “I meant for my sisters and cousins—”

  “Oh, I know what you meant,” Candy said. “But it’s fine. It’s fine. You young ones need some fun.” She eyed Phil meaningfully. “Especially Cora.”

  Amelia was glowering at Candy now, and Phil hid his smile behind a menu. Being an only child, he missed out on this kind of banter growing up, but then, he supposed that even in his home, his parents rarely joked. They weren’t together often enough.

  “Well, I have a feeling that Georgie here will make the prettiest ornament on my tree,” Amelia said, shifting her attention away from Candy.

  “Oh, no doubt,” Candy remarked. “Especially if you’ve been spending time with Cora. She has a way of rubbing off on people.”

  Amelia leveled her with a look, clearly suppressing a sigh. “She has a way of spreading Christmas cheer, that much is certain.”

  Candy gave a little mew. “That too.”

  “Candy, can you please check on the flatbreads in the oven?” Amelia said, a noticeable edge to her tone.

  Candy didn’t seem to catch it and hurried away, only to say cheerfully, “I’ll be back!” over her shoulder before disappearing through a swing door.

  Phil set down his menu, deciding to place his order, even if it was just to let poor Amelia have it out with Candy behind the closed kitchen door. “I’ll have the pot pie.”

  “And mac and cheese for Georgie, I’m guessing?” Amelia collected the menus, and Georgie nodded happily. “Those are two of my specialties. I’ll make the
m before I go.”

  “Oh, don’t let us keep you,” Phil said. “I’m sure Candy—”

  But Amelia just shook her head. “A special friend to my sister is a special guest of mine.”

  Phil grinned, happy that Candy was out of earshot. No doubt she’d take a comment like that and read into it.

  Even if she might not be far off the mark.

  *

  Cora hadn’t seen her sisters since Maddie had broken the news to her about her alternative plans for Christmas Eve, but tonight was their family’s annual cookie swap party, and that was one tradition that she knew they wouldn’t sacrifice, at least. It was something that their mother and aunt used to do with their friends and neighbors, and as the girls grew older, they were invited to participate. Now, an entire new generation of women still met one snowy evening in December to drink wine and cider and hot chocolate, and swap cookies and recipes. There was only rule, and that was that they couldn’t bring the same kind of cookie two years in a row.

  For Amelia and Maddie, this was a welcome challenge. For Cora, not so much.

  She let herself into Amelia’s warm house and hung her coat and scarf on the hook, noticing that most of the guests had already arrived by the number of boots lined up on the mat. She added hers to the mix and walked into the living room, where her sisters, cousins, and their cousins were either gathered around the fireplace, or visible in the adjacent kitchen.

  “Merry Christmas!” she said, feeling the anticipation of a fun night ahead. The Christmas tree was small and simply decorated, but it was still beautiful, and from the mantel hung two stockings, no doubt for her and Matt, even if he lived at the house he’d purchased when he returned to town over the summer.

  “Get a glass of wine and join us!” Bella called over cheerfully. On the coffee table was a whole spread of snacks, complements of Amelia no doubt, because even though all the girls brought cookies to swap and take home, that didn’t mean they ate them at the party.

  Well, maybe a few.

  Cora walked into the kitchen and set her two boxes of cookies on the table with the others, wondering if her ginger snaps and jam thumbprints would hold up to some of the more ambitious creations that she personally couldn’t wait to taste.