In Love by Christmas

by Cari Lynn Webb

  She cleared her throat. “The board gave me a set of drawings for the additions to the sanctuary, but that was a formality. They keep me in the loop, even though I’m not involved in running this place.”

  Emma wanted—needed—to make it clear she wasn’t there to check up on him. She had nothing to do with hiring him, and certainly had no intention of overseeing the boardwalk construction or any of the work going into reimagining the bird sanctuary. She leaned closer and stage-whispered, “I just throw money at stuff.”

  Parker responded with a short but hearty laugh that came from deep in his chest.

  Mission accomplished.

  Emma walked around him and pointed deeper into the woods. “So beautiful this time of year, huh? Perfect setting for this boardwalk. I’m sure it will attract lots of visitors.”

  Parker planted his hands on his hips and nodded. “That’s the idea.”

  The deepening creases in his forehead didn’t match the words, but Emma let it go. She sensed the frown was part of Parker covertly studying her. Too bad covert wasn’t his strong suit, because now she had to try to pretend she didn’t notice.

  Parker pointed to the carved duck’s head. “That’s a beautiful walking stick, by the way. And like you said, it fits this setting.”

  Skipping any explanation of why she needed it, she said, “Matter of fact, it’s made by a local wood carver.”

  Indicating the worktable, Parker said, “Come closer, have a look. I’ll show you what we’ve done so far.”

  It was only a couple steps to the worktable he’d set up, but she moved carefully and kept her eyes on the natural dips and rises in the ground. The need to consider each movement frustrated her, especially when getting around on flat terrain posed no problem at all.

  “We’ll be smoothing out this ground. Filling the holes and creating a gravel walk here. Maybe even a paved one eventually.” Parker twisted halfway around and pointed to the already cleared path snaking through the woods. “The committee covered everything in the design. The boardwalk itself will be wide enough for wheelchairs.”

  “I’d heard that,” Emma said.

  “And we’re adding lots of turnouts and bridges to crisscross back and forth, so people can double back to the nature center building without having to walk the whole thing.”

  “Oh, yes. That’s good.” Very good in fact, but it still pained her to be reassured that way. Happy that everyone would have a chance to enjoy the sanctuary, she hadn’t fully accepted that she was one of the people whose limitations had to be considered. She squared her shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. “I usually walk more easily. I can cover fairly long distances, too. I used to be sort of a girl jock.” Girl jock? Where had that come from? What was she defending, anyway?

  Apparently not inclined to delve into her athletic past, Parker tapped his long index finger on a spot on the colorful drawing in front of him. “So, this is where we are. We’ve already got about a quarter mile of boardwalk planked. As you can see, the guys are attaching the railings for this section. They’re quite an assembly line. They cut the wood at their shop and then assemble it all here.”

  “The Bill and Will Rivera father-son team did the construction work on another project I was involved with last spring,” Emma said. “They’re good. I’m glad they got this contract.” They’d put up arbors and installed benches for the butterfly garden the conservancy built on the edge of her land.

  She plunked her finger on the depiction of the small pier that was part of the original resort. “So that’s called the observation point now, huh?” She turned to get a glimpse of the real pier jutting out in the lake. “A bunch of us here in town spent a lot of summer days jumping off that pier and racing each other to a raft that used to be out in the middle.” She might have added that she usually beat everyone, even most of the boys. “Naturally, Mike Abbot was one of the kids I used to swim with. I’m sure you were filled in on the history of his family’s resort.”

  Parker nodded and adjusted his glasses with his thumb and index finger. “Big picture, but not a lot of detail.”

  “Have you met Mike yet? And Ruby?” Emma asked, taking note that Parker’s thick frames were the latest style. She liked that subtle hint of healthy vanity.

  The wide smile came back. “We have. The morning after Nicole—she’s my teenage daughter—and I got here. Mike and Ruby and their little boy came by with their arms loaded with food.” He let out a little laugh and smiled. “Not just any food, but fresh bread and donuts and apple pie. That was a big hit with Nicole.”

  “So what did you think when you saw the place?”

  Parker tilted his head and offered a lopsided smile. “Seriously? I know a trick question when I hear one. But I’m a step ahead of you. I was warned. The hiring committee filled me in. I know the Hidden Lake Resort was a big deal around here way, way back. So I wasn’t shocked to see the condition of the buildings. Besides, you can hardly find any of these old-style housekeeping cabins these days. Nic’s imagination took off on a wild ride picturing what this place must have been like back in the day.”

  “To someone her age that must seem like eons ago,” Emma mused. “But even when Mike and Ruby and I were kids this place was already out of style.”

  “I’ll bet. Those boxy wooden cabins remind me of something out of my grandparents’ era—or even earlier.”

  Emma recognized the little ripples of nostalgia that always came up when she thought about Mike’s family’s old resort and working for his folks. Her parents placed high value on impeccable—their word—behavior, good grades and fulfilling one’s duty, whatever that was. Fun with friends and the pure joy of something as mundane as a challenging swim across the lake were eyed with suspicion. That’s why Emma had always counted her summers of goofing around on this lake as some of the few times she felt like a carefree kid.

  “Working here for the Abbots was the best summer gig for us kids in town. Mike’s mom was our real boss. We all scrubbed those cabins to a shine and scooped hundreds of ice cream cones.” Emma paused and tapped her thumb on her chest. A little theatrics to add a flirtatious tone. “I don’t want to brag or anything, but I was one of the star gardeners...well, amateur groundskeepers.”

  Parker rewarded her light tone with his friendliest smile yet. “You can joke, but you have the same faraway look that I saw in Mike and Ruby when they mentioned those summers.” He waved toward the woods. “How about a walk on the new boardwalk? It should be safe.”

  “Lead the way,” Emma said, aware of her rising enthusiasm. “I haven’t been back in these woods since I was a kid.”

  Parker waved to Bill and Will as they came off the boardwalk and said they were going to their shop to reload the truck. Emma called out her greeting to the two as they went on their way.

  When they reached the slight incline onto the first planks, Parker raised his hand. “Stop right there.”

  “I’ll be fine on it, Parker.”

  “I can see that,” he said. “But I’m going to give this baby a performance test.” He took a few long strides ahead and widened his stance. He bounced in place, took a couple more steps ahead and jumped high enough to come down hard. “See? The right amount of give, but no sagging. I’m calling it safe.” Smiling smugly, he waited for her to catch up.

  The air was cooler under the trees sheltering the boardwalk. And damper. Emma was glad she’d worn a heavy wool sweater over her turtleneck. With every puff of wind, the trees dropped more leaves and sent them floating down to the forest floor. “All these trees will be almost bare in a few days. Halloween marks the real end of fall around here,” she said, hearing the sadness in her voice.

  They walked along in awkward silence. At least it was awkward for her—and annoying. She didn’t need more evidence of how narrow her life had become. Being alone on a simple walk with a man her age—and single, too, from what she
’d heard—was a novel experience. The faint sound of a vibrating phone grabbed Parker’s attention. He took the phone out of his pocket and gave it a glance.

  “Go ahead and take that if you need to,” Emma said. “Don’t mind me.”

  “Nah, it can wait.” He chuckled. “I thought maybe it was another update from Stacey Schwartz. They contacted me yesterday about a new plan that changes the work we’re doing some.”

  “Oh? What’s up?”

  “Seems the committee has decided to host an open house over Thanksgiving weekend. Kind of like a warm-up act for the big Christmas Eve celebration,” he explained. “It means fixing up the office and finishing the boardwalk are our priorities. The plan is based on luring people to wander in on the long weekend and have a look. Maybe become sanctuary members.” Frowning, he stared out into the woods. “It’s okay. I don’t mind rearranging the work schedule.”

  She forced a neutral expression. An open house on an otherwise busy shopping weekend struck her as a huge waste of time. But that was just her gut reaction. Now and then, something took her by surprise and challenged her hands-off stance toward the sanctuary and the people who ran it. This was one of those times.

  “You’re surprised?”

  She offered a coy smile. “And I thought I hid it. But then, I haven’t talked to Ruby about things going on in town lately.”

  Parker’s frown was back.

  Her fault. He’d still be in the dark about who was linked to who and why. “Sorry, I sometimes forget all these local connections might confuse you at first. Ruby’s my best pal—since grade school. If Ruby and I aren’t talking on the phone, we’re texting. She keeps me up-to-date on most everything going on these days, mainly because it seems there’s always something new.”

  She explained that Mike and Ruby had been married on New Year’s Eve, and then in April Mike ran for mayor and won. “And now, only a few months later, we’re talking about boardwalks and Christmas caroling at the covered bridge.”

  “Nic told me Santa’s coming to River Street,” Parker said, amused. “You’ve all been busy.”

  “It’s an old story. A major employer shut down a plant and this town started to slide downhill. But we’re turning that all around now. No more limping along. We’re reinventing Bluestone River.” She dramatically extended her hand in his direction. “And that explains why you’re here.”

  Parker’s jaw tightened for a second or two, but then relaxed. Hmm...she’d intended to amuse him a little. Oh well, so her act bombed. But why the tension?

  “The board is busy luring volunteers.” He smirked, adding, “And courting donors.”

  “Not such a bad thing for a not-for-profit to do.” She looked away, annoyed by his snide tone.

  When she glanced back at him, Parker’s face was slightly red.

  Served him right.

  Parker stopped in place where the planking ended. “We’ll decorate all this with white lights for the Christmas Eve event. The main building and the pier and our cabins will be lit up, too.”

  “It’s making me look forward to Christmas,” Emma admitted, turning to start back. The minute she heard it, Emma had taken to the sanctuary’s new name: The Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary and Nature Center. It sounded established, even permanent. It’s what Mike’s dad would have wanted when he gave the land to the conservancy.

  “I can help out on Thanksgiving weekend.” Emma didn’t like the eagerness coming through in her voice, or the undeniable relief spreading through her body. It meant she admitted, at least to herself, that hanging out at the sanctuary gave her something to fill an otherwise long, even dreaded weekend. “Maybe I could be a greeter and entice people to join.”

  Parker shook his head and looked away. “Look, I owe you an apology for that remark about donors. My tone, I mean. I forgot for a minute that you’re the one footing the bill for these renovations and other changes.” His big gesture encompassed the woods and all the buildings. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic.”

  Oh, yes, he did. It was second nature to him. Probably every job he ever had depended on people like her. But as apologies went, she graded this one C minus. She held up her hand as if to stop him from going on. “Correction. I’m covering some of the upgrades here. And I don’t micromanage. Consider me a silent partner.”

  Parker cleared his throat. “I only hope people around here have the good sense to know what a special place they’ve got.”

  “I think it’s what got Mike elected mayor.”

  But will it point me in a new direction? She pushed that question away for the moment and focused on Parker’s rich, deep voice describing yesterday’s cold downpour. Emma thought of her mom, who would have dispensed with words like tenor, baritone or bass. She’d have said he was born with a voice meant for radio and left it at that.

  “The rain helped us identify the source of leaks in the office building roof,” Parker said with a smile. “Admittedly, the water stains already on the ceiling and walls were pretty good clues.”

  She started to respond when a loud voice from behind interrupted. “Are you Parker Davis?”

  “Yep, that’s me.” He put his hand across his forehead to shade his eyes from the shafts of afternoon sun coming through the trees. “Heater guys? I sure hope so.”

  “Yessir, that’s us.”

  “I hope you’re having those old oil heaters in the cabins replaced. It’s way past time.” Emma took a last look around. “I’ll be on my way. Thanks for the walk and the updates.”

  Parker held up his arm in a silent message to the guy that he’d be right there. Polite. But unnecessary. With her free hand, Emma shooed Parker away. “Go on. Take care of business. I’m fine.”

  “They can wait a minute.”

  Since there was nothing tentative about his tone, she offered no argument. When they reached the gravel, she waved goodbye and started toward the lot, but turned around when Parker called out to her. “Will I see you on Friday at the reception? It’s being billed as my formal welcome to Bluestone River.”

  “Absolutely,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  He smiled broadly before turning his attention to the heating guy.

  Nothing tentative in that smile, either.

  Copyright © 2019 by Virginia McCullough

  ISBN-13: 9781488040016

  In Love by Christmas

  Copyright © 2019 by Cari Lynn Webb

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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