Love at Mistletoe Inn

by Cindy Kirk

  He sat in a comfortably stuffed gray chair, with a glass of iced tea, and watched her parade in and out of the dressing room in her finery. Hope felt like a princess in all the dresses. But when she strolled out and John gave a low whistle, she knew she’d found THE ONE.

  The strapless lace dress in a circular tea length had a timeless, classic feel. The short satin gloves only added to the allure.

  “I love this.” Hope fingered the flower and feather attached to the silk cummerbund around her waist, then cast a worried glance at her aunt. “But what if Laura would prefer a long gown with a train?”

  “What do you want?” Aunt Verna asked.

  “This dress,” Hope said, puzzled by her aunt’s seeming disregard for Laura’s wishes. “But I’m not the bri—”

  “I have been given carte blanche on all decisions,” Verna announced.

  “You or John could take a picture of me in the dress, then text it to her,” Hope said. “See what she thinks. This is, after all, her special day.”

  “But if this were your special day, you’d be happy with this one?” Verna pressed, her expression intense.

  “Absolutely.” Hope gently stroked the skirt of the beautiful dress, her smile wistful. “I envy Laura getting married at Christmas. To me, that’s the most wonderful time of the year for a wedding.”

  “I remember you once telling me that,” her aunt said with a little smile.

  John rose from the chair and pulled out his phone. “Smile pretty,” he said to Hope.

  After considering where she should put her hands, Hope settled for resting them at her sides and smiling as John snapped pictures of her from all angles. He even took several pictures of her and Verna.

  Finally, Hope laughingly held up a hand. “Enough. We should have at least one good picture for Laura in all of those.”

  He smiled back at her, making her heart skip a beat, then pocketed the phone. Pausing, he cocked his head. “Do you think we should have taken some shots of me in the tux?”

  “I don’t think Luke will care,” Verna said dismissively. “Now, if you’d chosen something flashy, I’d say yes. But I believe we’re okay.”

  “It’s a great tux,” he said. “I liked it.”

  “It looked as if it were designed for you,” Hope said, then flushed when he gave her a sardonic smile.

  She wondered if he’d choose something similar whenever he married in the future. The thought was so disturbing, she cast it aside.

  “I’ve had a wonderful time,” Aunt Verna said.

  Hope glanced at her aunt’s flushed cheeks and love swamped her. In many ways, Aunt Verna had been more of a mother to her than her own.

  No, she wouldn’t ruin the day by focusing her thoughts on the future. She would have plenty of time for that later.

  That night Hope’s dreams were filled with images of her wearing the dress they’d chosen for Laura. John stood in the parlor by the ornate marble fireplace. He wore the dark tux and she saw love in his eyes as she walked toward him, clutching a gorgeous bouquet of red roses.

  His hand reached for hers and she quickened her step. Only inches separated them when he vanished and was replaced by Chet. Horrified, she stopped midstride.

  “Where’s John?” she demanded.

  Chet’s laugh was an ugly sound that made her cringe. “Forget him. He’s your past. I’m your future.”

  “No-ooo!” The word tore from her throat and Hope jerked upright, her heart galloping.

  It took several seconds for Hope to realize it was only a dream. She looked around her bedroom—not the parlor—and took several deep breaths. Sunlight streamed in through the lace curtains and a robin chirped happily outside her window.

  Finally calm, Hope began the morning as she did every day by thanking God for all His blessings, including good friends and an aunt she loved dearly. Though her personal life right now was fraught with challenges, she had no doubt that God would walk this path with her.

  Still, didn’t everyone say that God helped those who helped themselves? She was going to go with that. And for her, organization was critical to figuring out what to do about her marriage.

  Hope’s spirits lifted. Nothing cleared her mind like making a list.

  After meeting with the representative of JPK Wealth Management to discuss the sculpture for the lobby of the company’s new office in Boise, John returned to Harmony. On his way home he stopped by the church to speak with Pastor Dan. Other than impressions John had gleaned from listening to his sermons, he didn’t know the young minister. But after an hour of one-to-one, John left feeling not only at peace, but as if he’d found a new friend.

  He wanted to make a go of his marriage to Hope, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be selfish and tie her to him because of some technicality. When he’d said the same to Dan, the pastor had smiled and said something about God working in mysterious ways.

  Because there was no one John trusted more than the Lord, he decided for now to simply have faith that his being married to Hope was part of some larger master plan. Because of the vows he’d made, he would give this marriage his all and try to convince Hope to do the same.

  After all, as Verna had said, what did they have to lose?

  Feeling more cheerful, John returned home to finish unpacking.

  After praying for the strength and wisdom to do what was right, Hope sat at her desk and began to compile a list. Asking the Lord to help her do what was right felt a bit odd. Did she really believe God was going to say, “Hope, I want you to walk away from your marriage, from those vows you made, without even attempting to make it work”?

  Still, when she thought about her parents and those fights over money . . . When she thought how John hadn’t even been able to scrounge up enough money to pay the guy who’d married them . . . When she thought about how he’d left town before the ink was dry on his diploma and without even saying good-bye . . .

  Why should she try? How could she trust him? Why should she willingly put her heart on the line knowing it could be easily shattered? Wouldn’t it make sense to simply walk away before either of them got hurt?

  Sleeping with him had been a huge mistake. Not only because it had made getting an annulment impossible, but because it dredged up all those old feelings. The truth was, whenever he touched her, emotions and desires made rational thought nearly impossible.

  If they did decide to try to make their marriage work, they would need to establish some rules and guidelines for their interactions. She had to protect her heart.

  Forty minutes later, Hope put down her pen and glanced at the list that now spilled from one page onto the next. If she had more time, she’d key it in, organize, and color-code the various requirements.

  But first she had a group of seniors to take through the barn. They were planning a large fund-raising dance in the spring to raise money for an airlift of Idaho Korean War vets to Washington, DC, next summer.

  Hope had just finished showing six chattering women and one long-suffering man through the barn. She was waving good-bye when John rode up on his Harley. Drat. Speaking with him about their marriage had been at the top of her list. But seeing him dressed in all black and looking so sexy drove all the items she’d so carefully composed from her brain.

  Instead of rabbiting for the house as was her inclination, Hope waited by the driveway while John pulled to a stop and removed his helmet. “You were out and about early.”

  His lazy grin did strange things to her insides. “I had some business in Boise. What about you?”

  “I just booked the barn for a Spring Fling fund-raiser,” she said, then, remembering the list, added, “and did some thinking.”

  He studied her. “That sounds serious.”

  “It was,” she said before amending, “it is.”

  “It’s much too nice a day to be serious.” He gestured to the sunny sky. “Take a ride with me.”

  “I don’t have a helmet.”

  “I have an extra one.�
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  “I really should stick around here.” She made a vague gesture with one hand.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Someone might stop by.”

  “If they do, I’ll handle them,” Hope heard Aunt Verna say as the older woman walked up from the orchard with a basket of pears. “Go and have fun. While it’s beautiful today, it is October and the weather we’ve been enjoying lately could disappear in a snap.”

  Hope chewed on her lip, stalling. No doubt John would want to discuss their situation. She hadn’t had time to fine-tune her list, to prioritize, to practice the exact words to use. “I’m sure John needs to work.”

  “I do,” he admitted. “But I’m still waiting on a couple pieces of equipment. They’re supposed to arrive later today. Until they do . . .”

  “While you’re out, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop by Petal Creations. Take a few minutes to pick out the flowers for the wedding.” Verna’s tone implied everything was settled. “If you get hungry, I’d love it if you’d check out Fatbellies, a new place that opened on Elm. My bridge club is thinking of meeting there, but I’d like an unbiased review of the food first.”

  Hope cocked her head, her spidey-sense tingling. It was almost as if her aunt were sending them off on a date. “What about your dinner?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Verna tossed John a pear. “I have book club this evening and it’s Mexican night. I’m bringing my guacamole salad.”

  John caught the fruit easily and glanced at Hope. “Looks like it’s just you and me, babe.”

  Chet would never call her “babe” or have such a devilish twinkle in his eye. Hope discovered there was something about being the focus of all that male energy that had blood sliding through her veins like warm honey.

  In her mind she’d assumed their talk—whenever it occurred—would take place in the parlor. Still, if the bistro wasn’t too crowded and they could chat without being overheard, a public place might be better than having her aunt in the next room.

  She turned to John and smiled. “Where’s my helmet?”

  Hope had to admit that riding on the back of a motorcycle was an experience. Before they left home, she changed into jeans and boots. Worried she might get chilled, she’d slipped a jacket over her long-sleeved shirt.

  When John told her to put her arms around his waist and hold on, Hope was unprepared for the intimacy of the action. After a few minutes she relaxed and let herself enjoy the closeness. They’d almost reached the business district when her thoughts drifted to the list, the one she’d left sitting on her dresser.

  Drat. Drat. Drat.

  She desperately tried to recall what she’d written down. Perhaps when they stopped to look at flowers she’d have a chance to jot down a few quick notes and put them in some semblance of order.

  But when they reached Petal Creations, there was no time for notes. The clerk looked confused when they explained they were picking out flowers for the wedding of “friends,” but quickly rallied.

  They agreed Laura would carry a cone-shaped bouquet of deep red amaryllis blossoms interspersed with ruby berries of hypericum and delicate bits of arborvitae. What did it matter they’d have been Hope’s first choice if she’d been the bride? The colors were perfect for a Christmas wedding. Vases scattered throughout the parlor would contain other seasonal favorites. Hope was sure Laura would be pleased with arrangements overflowing with blooms of hydrangeas and cattleya orchids in icy white.

  John agreed the combination was “lovely” and “festive.” She decided she may have gone a bit overboard with her effusiveness over the arrangements when she found him staring at her with an odd expression.

  “I wish every couple could agree so easily on flowers for their wedding.” The pretty young clerk smiled as she wrote up the order.

  Hope thought about reminding the clerk the flowers weren’t for their wedding, a fact that the girl seemed determined to forget, but didn’t see the point.

  “Hope and I share similar tastes,” John told the girl. “And interests.”

  Hope nodded. He’d spoken the truth. While she’d never been as adventurous as John, they both enjoyed hiking and movies and dancing.

  Unlike with Chet, who was happiest entertaining a houseful of people or socializing with a group, it had been the dates with other couples or quiet evenings at home watching movies that she and John had cherished.

  Hope signed the order form and frowned. How had she forgotten everything they had in common?

  “Is there something wrong with the price?” the clerk asked, two lines creasing her brow. “I gave you the standard discount since Harmony Creek sends business our way.”

  Hope shook her head. “No, no. I was thinking of something else.”

  “I’m getting hungry,” John said when they exited the shop. “Shall we check out Fatbellies? It’s just down the street.”

  Hope wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine why Verna would want to take her bridge club to a place with a name like that.”

  He laughed and took her arm. It felt so natural to walk beside him on the sidewalks of the town square. Almost like old times when they’d spent most evenings and weekends together. She liked it. Liked it a bit too much.

  Hope brought a hand to her head. She was so confused.

  Her heart gave a lurch just as her heel caught on an uneven piece of concrete.

  John’s hand tightened on her arm and he steadied her. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “I don’t know what to do about everything that’s happened between us.”

  They reached the café, but he kept walking.

  “You’re referring to us being married.”

  “I’m referring to everything. Finding out we’re still married, sleeping together, how I feel when I’m with you.”

  She hadn’t meant to include that last part, but it was definitely part of the picture.

  They strolled in silence for several long seconds.

  “When I spoke with Dan Sullivan—”

  “You spoke with Pastor Dan?”

  “Like you, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  Hope remembered her aunt suggesting they visit with the pastor but hadn’t given it serious consideration. While she liked and admired the minister, she was embarrassed to talk about how irresponsible she’d been. Or maybe, she admitted, to have him say things she didn’t want—or wasn’t ready—to hear.

  “What did you think of him?”

  “I’d met Dan before on a few occasions, but I didn’t really know him.” John paused near an ornate wrought-iron bench at the edge of the sidewalk. “I like the guy. Oddly enough, he went to seminary with the pastor of the church I attended in Portland. Just goes to show it’s a small world.”

  “You had a church you attended?”

  “That surprises you?”

  “It does.”

  “We used to go to church together back in high school,” he reminded her.

  It was another thing she’d forgotten.

  “The pastor and I talked about there being a time or a season for everything. Back when we got married might not have been our time. We needed to grow up, to mature, to become the people we were meant to be.”

  Hope considered, nodded.

  “But this is a different season in our lives. And, while it’s impossible to know why, we find ourselves still married. Is this part of some eternal plan? While it may not fit into our goals, it may be part of God’s plan for us.”

  “Dan thinks we should stay married, give it a shot.” Hope emitted a dry chuckle. “It doesn’t surprise me. I can’t imagine him pushing for divorce.”

  “I want to make our marriage work.” John stopped and turned to face her on the sidewalk. “I meant the vows I said to you that day. I meant every word inscribed in this ring.”

  John reached into his pocket and held out the vintage band in white gold.

  He’d kept it. The ring he’d p
laced on her finger, the one she insisted he take back on the drive home. She didn’t need to look at the inscription. Every word was etched on her heart.

  From every valley to every summit, faithfully yours forever

  She stared down at the ring. Tried unsuccessfully again to think of the list she’d methodically composed that morning.

  “I-I made up a list this morning.” She forced the words past her dry throat. “With some rules and an implementation plan should we decide to consider taking this route.”

  “I know you’re a planner and very detail-oriented.” A slight smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Those are wonderful qualities, especially for a CPA. But this time, I propose we simply take it a day at a time. No list to follow. No formal plan. No rules. Just get to know each other again and make the success of our marriage a priority. I believe it will be worth the effort.”

  His eyes held a questioning glint.

  “If we do this,” she said, “this time I won’t say ‘I love you’ until I’m certain that I do. I won’t put this ring on my finger until I know I want to be with you forever.”

  She’d offered the words of love so freely last time. Too freely. It had led to their getting married before either had been ready for such a commitment. All this pain and heartache might have been avoided if she’d kept her emotions under control until she’d been absolutely sure of her feelings.

  “Understood.” John slipped the ring back in his pocket. “But I promise you, I’m going to do everything in my power to make you fall in love with me again.”

  Hope studied the menu at Fatbellies. Because of the name, she’d anticipated mostly high-calorie, high-fat entrées. Surprisingly, the bistro menu held a number of relatively healthy options.

  The waitress had just brought their drinks when Amity sauntered in. Her friend’s eyes lit up when she spotted Hope and John.