by Lisa Carter
Anna cut her eyes at Ryan. “Not sure that will work for everyone’s schedule.”
Ryan arched his eyebrow. “Before might be better.”
Anna didn’t smile. “Speak for yourself.”
Justine waved goodbye as she moved away to help the overloaded customer.
Ryan rubbed his hands together. “How about getting you a Christmas tree?”
“Playing Santa again, Ryan?” She discarded the cup into a nearby trash bin. “How do you plan to get the tree to my house?”
He rapped the roof of his car. “I’ll MacGyver it.”
She eyed the roof rack. “I didn’t know you skied.”
He held the door for her as she slid inside. “Karen was big into going to the Wintergreen Ski Resort.”
Karen... Anna clicked her seat belt in place, sorry she’d asked. He’d lived a whole life she knew nothing about.
And that bothered her. Which was unreasonable. Her baby only underscored the fact she’d lived a life totally unconnected to him, as well.
He steered past the nursery as the drive curved into the woodland. She studied him behind the wheel. Would he find happiness in his new job and fulfillment somewhere else? Had she found fulfillment?
Of course she had. Hadn’t she? She faced out the window. Home at last, she had her baby. And her wonderful memories of Mateo. Yet suddenly, none of that felt enough. Not anymore.
* * *
Ryan parked between the farmhouse and barn. Judging from the number of cars, business was booming.
Anna waved to his youngest sister, Tessa, supervising the youngsters in the enclosed barnyard petting zoo. “It’s busy today.”
“For many families around here, it’s become a tradition to bring the kids to Open House.” He took stock of their hard work since his dad passed. “The farm is Luke’s doing, a profitable year-round enterprise.”
Sunbeams infused rich highlights in Anna’s dark hair. “Year-round how?”
Anna was so lovely. He’d never imagined he’d ever be able to spend time with her again. But only until January, when their life paths diverged once more.
His chest tightened at the reminder. “In the spring, we grow flowers for the garden center. In the fall, we offer a corn maze and there’s pumpkins for sale.”
Tendrils of her hair skimmed her shoulders. “You don’t fool me, Ryan.” She wagged her finger. “Savages live, breathe and eat the farm.”
He gestured toward the Christmas tree stand beside the red, Dutch hip-roofed barn. “In November, Luke travels to the Blue Ridge to get fresh-cut trees since the trees don’t naturally grow in our salty climate.”
At the sound of jingling bells, she turned to the old-fashioned sleigh. His other brother, Ethan, had a line of waiting customers.
Taking hold of her elbow, Ryan guided her over toward the sleigh. Children played hide-and-seek among the Christmas trees, positioned to resemble a real forest. An enchanted forest, especially with Anna by his side.
“Customers usually visit the petting zoo first, and then take a family sleigh ride before purchasing a tree.”
With Tessa’s old horse tied to the hitching post outside the barn, broad-shouldered Ethan helped his customers disembark from the sleigh. “Anna Banana! Good to have you home.”
She made a wry grimace, but Ryan could tell she was pleased at Ethan’s affectionate greeting. He and Ethan shared the tall Savage gene, but there the resemblance ended.
Ethan and Justine were blonder, their eyes bluer. And unlike Ryan, who tended to be more contemplative, Ethan was Mr. Never-Met-a-Stranger. Or had been until returning from his last deployment.
“It’s good to be home.” Anna ran her hand over the carriage frame. “This sleigh is new to me.”
Ryan allowed the horse to nuzzle his hand. “Ethan’s idea.”
Ethan shook his head. “Ryan found the sleigh in the shed, tucked away for who knows how long. The leather had rotted. The runners broken. He restored the sleigh to its now pristine condition.”
Ryan flushed. “We each did our part for the business.”
“Don’t be so modest, bro.”
Her breath hitched softly. “Ryan, I had no idea you were so talented.”
Ethan patted the horse’s withers. “My brother is a handy guy to have around. Lots of hidden skills.”
Ryan scowled. “Very hidden.”
She ran her fingertip over the gold paint gilding the outline of the carriage. “This is beautiful.” Her eyes shone. “Makes me want to break into a verse about dashing through the snow.”
Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Except in Kiptohanock, there isn’t any snow.”
Ethan handed an elderly lady into the carriage. “But brilliant as always, Ryan fixed wheels onto the runners to accommodate our sandy terrain.”
Ryan surveyed the line of people. “Looks like you’re booked solid.”
Ethan unwound the reins from the post and placed them onto the driver’s perch. “Come back later, and I’ll give you the farm tour, Anna. Or better yet, Ryan can.” He winked at his brother as he swung into the seat.
“I’d love that.” Her gaze flickered to Ryan. “Maybe another day. Margaret mentioned something about costume fittings this afternoon, depending on when Tessa could get away.”
Ethan took the reins. “I heard Ryan got shanghaied into the Living Nativity. Better him than me. Though I can’t wait to see him in a dress.”
“It’s a robe, Ethan,” Ryan growled. “Not a dress.”
Ethan flicked the reins, and the sleigh rolled forward. “Whatever you say, big bro,” he called over his shoulder. “Whatever you say.”
She laughed. “The more things change, the more they remain the same.”
He tugged her toward the tree stand. “Boring. Yet another reason to leave.”
She shook her head. “Not boring. One of the things I love most about home.”
And not so boring with Anna home. Doubts flooded Ryan. Had he somehow missed what God wanted for him?
Was he making a mistake in leaving the kids? And then there was Anna. Would he have pursued the job opportunity if he’d known she’d return to Kiptohanock?
Anna raised her hand. “Excuse me, Mister Sabbage?”
He grinned. “Yes, Anna Banana?”
Anna moistened her lips with her tongue. “May I be excused for a bathroom break?”
“Since you asked so nicely...” He motioned toward the restroom they’d installed for visitors. “Be my guest.”
Anna fluttered her fingers as she headed toward the barn. “Thanks, friend.”
Despite the blue sky and the brisk, autumn-tinged air, his spirits plummeted. They were just friends. He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. He was beginning to hate the phrase “just friends.”
He needed to face reality. She didn’t have room for anyone in her heart but the baby. And the past would always stand between them ever pursuing a relationship.
The breakup with Karen had left him leery of trusting his heart to another. Since then, only the kids had breached the barrier he’d erected around his heart. Already his feelings for Anna were more than he should feel for a friend, no matter how dear.
Feelings with the potential to exceed anything he ever felt for Karen. And that, ultimately, wasn’t a path he’d willingly travel with Anna. Now more than ever, he needed to go off-Shore.
Because only an especially cruel heartache lay at the end of anything other than friendship with Anna. With everything awaiting him in his new job, to love Anna and her baby was a risk he couldn’t afford.
Chapter Six
Minutes later, Anna ventured out of the barn at the Savage farm. She took a moment to enjoy the merriment of children scampering through the grove of Christmas trees. Families roamed, searching
for the perfect tree. Older students greeted Ryan where he waited near the booth.
Strolling couples—perhaps their first Christmas together—underscored for Anna the coming loneliness of the life she’d chosen. She placed her hand atop her child to reassure herself as much as the baby.
As she approached, Ryan straightened. “Is this too much walking for you? Should we go back to the car?”
She started to tell him she’d changed her mind about finding a tree. But he appeared so happy showing her around his family farm, she didn’t have the heart to cut short their adventure. “I’m fine. I want to get a tree today.”
His brow creased. “Are you sure? Because we can do this another time.”
But already the time seemed far too short. The time before the baby arrived. Time with Ryan. And once he left, she sensed their friendship would irrevocably change.
She needed to make the most of this carefree, spectacular day. Which was one of the hardest things she’d learned after Mateo died. That nothing lasted forever. She should enjoy her freedom from diapers, sleepless nights and worrying about the bills while she could.
Anna studied the man who cared enough to help her transition through the holiday. Handsome and caring. Ryan, her best friend forever.
Was that what forever looked like between her and Ryan? Friends only? That’s what she wanted, right?
She swallowed. “Professionally speaking, which kind of tree do you recommend, Mister Sabbage?”
He gave her a slow smile. When her knees wobbled, his hand steadied her arm. Eliciting a wobbling of a different sort in her heart.
But then came a rippling movement within her womb. Her eyes widened, and her hand fell to her rounded abdomen.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” A prick of tears burned her eyelids. She smiled at him. “The baby moved.”
He dropped his hand.
She blinked at his sudden reaction. He loved kids, yet he acted as if he were afraid of the baby. “What’s the matter?”
His gaze fell to the ground. “Nothing. I just—”
“Anna!”
Florence Savage hurried out of the tree booth. Her frosted blond hair belied her sixty-something age.
Mrs. Savage enfolded her into an embrace. “You look stunning. Motherhood suits you, Anna Banana.”
“You look marvelous, Mrs. Savage.”
Behind his mother, Ryan made a face and rolled his eyes.
Without turning around, his mother fluttered her hand over her shoulder at Ryan. “Stop being a pest.”
His mouth dropped open. “How did—?” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Eyes in the back of my head, son. Essential skill for anyone in the teaching profession.” She cupped Anna’s cheek in her warm, dry palm. “Essential skill for motherhood, too.”
Anna soaked in the tenderness in his mother’s gaze. “Thank you for letting me know about the job.”
Mrs. Savage patted Anna’s cheek. “Your résumé and phone interview got the job.”
Over the years, Ryan’s mother had worked her way up the teaching ladder to become a high school principal. And she was a powerful champion for at-risk students in the community. Proving herself a great friend to Anna in her hour of need, too.
Seth Duer stepped out from the row of trees. “Aren’t you supposed to be working the booth, Florence?”
Mrs. Savage arched her eyebrow. “Help Anna pick out a tree, Ryan, while I deal with this old coot.”
“Who’re you calling an old coot?” Seth Duer said, a smile playing around his mustached lips.
Anna wondered for a second... No way. Although, it had been a long time since Mr. Duer was widowed. She followed Ryan into the thicket of trees. “Your mom’s been alone four years now?”
He paused to let a dad and his preschool daughter idle by. “Only if you don’t count all five kids still living on the farm with her.” His eyes cut to Anna’s. “What a bunch of losers in the romance department, huh?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “The only people allowed to insult you, Ryan Savage, are me and your family. You’re not a loser.” She cocked her head. “Oblivious, maybe. A little slow...” She tapped her finger on her temple.
He lunged. “Says you—”
Squealing in feigned terror—as he meant her to—she darted behind a tree for cover. “You gotta catch me first, Savage,” she yelled.
The old schoolyard game. Savages and Pruitts were frenemies from way back. Capture the flag without flags. A landlubber’s version of catch and release.
“Ann...na...”
She smiled at his cajoling voice.
“Come out, come out wherever you are. Anna Ba... Nan...nah...”
His voice sounded farther away so she took off, zigzagging between the rows. His boots thudded behind her.
Panting, she paused to regain her breath. Resting her hand on the spindly bark of a spruce, she blew a strand of hair out of her face. The bulb shape of the trees hid her ballooning belly.
“I’ll find you.” His voice drifted. “I always do...”
“Only ’cause I let you,” she whispered.
The wind rustled the fragrant evergreen branches. And there were faint echoes from “other” children at play. She strained to hear his footsteps over the distant jingling on the sleigh harness.
An arm shot out from around the tree.
Squealing—this time not so feigned—she allowed herself to be caught as he wrapped his hands around her upper arms. Her shoulder blades pressed against his chest, she closed her eyes, relishing the strength of his embrace. The wild thrumming of his heartbeat vibrated through her, matching the drumbeat of her own heart.
Grasping her shoulders, he gently angled her to face him. His eyes twinkled before another expression took its place. “Gotcha. As I knew I would.” The blue-green of his eyes deepened.
“I knew you would, too.” She forced the words from her constricted throat.
His hands framed her face. She nestled her cheek against the roughened texture of his palm. She’d always admired his hands. Manly, well formed. Not just the hands of a schoolteacher or researcher. Someone much more than she’d ever allowed herself to imagine.
Without conscious thought, she took a step closer. Her stomach rammed into him.
Flinching, he drew back. Taking a ragged breath, he tore his gaze away. “Sorry.”
What was he sorry about? Sorry about almost starting something neither of them could finish? For one dizzying, terrifying second, she contemplated telling him—what?
What could she say? He finally had his chance to return to the work he loved. She should be relieved he had the good sense to stop whatever had been about to happen.
But why didn’t she feel relieved?
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Let’s find you a tree.”
* * *
Of all the trees in the Enchanted Forest, she’d picked a scraggly, waist-high specimen.
“Seriously, Anna?” Ryan made a sweeping motion. “What about one of those bigger firs? Or one of the blue spruces? They’re pretty.”
Anna crossed her arms over her stomach and got that stubborn look in her eye. “I like this one.”
He mirrored her stance. “It’s not even shaped nice.”
She stiffened. “I want this one.”
He scrubbed his chin. Her likes and dislikes—as always—were a complete mystery to him.
She uncoiled. “I’ll carry it out myself.”
Ryan tugged her aside. “No one wants to have to deliver a baby today at Open House. I got this.”
He hefted the potted tree. The branches slapped his cheek, and he spit out a mouthful of pine needles. He staggered toward the booth. She followed on his heels.
“Luke, tell Anna this is not the right tree for her. Tell her how this tree won’t decorate pretty.”
She jabbed her finger. “Luke, you tell Ryan it’s my choice. And I choose this one. Tell him—”
“It’s a Virginia pine.” Luke’s eyes flicked from Anna to Ryan. “The foliage will eventually become denser.”
She folded her arms again. “I want this tree.”
Ryan blew out a breath. “This isn’t a cut tree, Anna. You’re going to have to water this one.”
“You have to put water in the base of cut trees, too.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll plant it. A tribute to my life before returning home.”
His mouth thinned. “Where will you plant it? Outside that sorry excuse for a trailer you’ve rented?”
“Maybe I’ll rent to own. What do you care? You won’t be sticking around long enough to watch it grow.” She glared at him. “Or anything else.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “You’re big on memorials, aren’t you? Whatever happened to living in the present?”
Rising on her tiptoes, she got in his face. As much as the baby between them allowed. “You’re a fine one to talk about the present when you can’t wait to shake the sand off your feet.”
Luke brushed his hand across the needles. “Don’t judge this tree by its current appearance, bro. It’s still in the process of becoming.”
Her nostrils flared. “Totally.”
Like Oscar, Maria and Zander. Like him?
His brother ran his finger along the reddish-brown trunk. “But it’s also straight and true. No reason Anna can’t plant it. By the fifth year of growth, this tree will be a gorgeous landscape addition.”
She smirked. “You’ve just got to see its potential.”
Was that his problem? Did he lack vision? Or was he fixed on the wrong vision of himself somewhere else? Without a caring adult in their lives, would the children ever fulfill their God-given potential? As for Anna...
Ryan folded his arms. “It’s your Christmas. Your trailer.”