Bounding and barreling down the hill—
It’s always such a rush and thrill!
Pick your partner and secure your space
for the annual Heirloom Point Sledding Race!
Chrissy didn’t need any sort of reminder for this event. As teenagers, she and Nick had competed as a team and each of those years resulted in first place trophies and frostbitten cheeks. In fact, they were a bit of a legend when it came to downhill sledding endeavors.
It wasn’t just the competition that Chrissy loved. Unlike other run-of-the-mill sledding races, Heirloom Point’s was practically a parade down the mountainside. Teams decorated and retrofitted their sleds to match the annual theme. This year’s theme was Christmas carols. Chrissy already had a few ideas up her sleeve, but there was one thing she didn’t have yet: a partner.
Everleigh had been her go-to teammate in recent races, but since her sister had accepted the position as president of this year’s judging committee, it disqualified her from competing. That was almost enough to keep Chrissy from entering the race altogether. It wouldn’t be the same skidding and sliding down the hill without Everleigh in tow.
Tightening her scarf around her neck and slipping her hands into her woolen gloves, Chrissy stuffed the note into her purse and walked to her car parked along the curb. She made a mental note to visit her favorite little clothing boutique the next day during her lunch break to purchase a new coat. How silly she had been that afternoon when she’d donated hers just so she didn’t have to admit to Nick the real reason she was at the station. She supposed the note had prompted her visit as well, but once she saw him lumbering down the sidewalk looking like the Michelin Man, she needed very little in the way of prompting. She had to scope the hilarious scene out for herself.
Laughing under her breath at the memory, Chrissy reached for her key fob and was about to click open the lock when a dark SUV pulled up next to her, the thick tires crunching the snow underneath as it slowed to a stop in the middle of the street. Her interest piqued, she paused as the passenger door opened. She saw a boot meet the pavement first, then the large duffle bag that swung out from the vehicle before the passenger did.
Then, standing in front of her, broad and tall as a Ponderosa Pine, was Kevin McHenry, Nick’s older brother and Chrissy’s longtime friend.
“Chrissy!” Swooping headlong toward her, Kevin wrapped an arm around Chrissy and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. He dropped his bag to the pavement in order to curl his other arm around her for a full, firm embrace. “I was hoping you’d be the first face I’d see when I got back into town!”
She didn’t mean to blush at the statement, but the attention was endearing and Kevin had always been so good to her. It was nice to see him back in Heirloom Point, if only for the confirming knowledge that he was safe and out of harm’s way. She knew he had some time off coming up with the Air Force, but Chrissy hadn’t anticipated a holiday arrival. It was so good to see his friendly face.
“I didn’t know you were coming home for Christmas, Kevin,” she admitted as he settled her back onto solid ground.
“I didn’t either until a few days ago. My mom is over the moon.”
“I’m sure she is. Both of her boys home for the holidays. I bet she’s cooking up your favorite meal as we speak.”
Kevin beamed. “You know our family so well. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes are on tonight’s menu. Lasagna for tomorrow.”
“That meatloaf was always my favorite dish.” Chrissy couldn’t keep from salivating. Grace was the queen of comfort food and over the years, Chrissy had the privilege of partaking in that comfort around the McHenry dining table.
“I know it was. Except for the bits of carrot Mom sneaks into it. Don’t pretend I didn’t see you pick yours out and put them on Nick’s plate back in the day.”
“You saw that?” Chrissy’s face warmed despite the snowflakes that fluttered across it. She didn’t like carrots, but had always been too shy to tell Grace. Criticizing a woman’s cooking was never an acceptable thing to do, especially a woman who, at one point, was your soon-to-be mother-in-law.
“We all saw it, Chrissy. Can I let you in on a little secret?” Chrissy nodded, encouraging Kevin to continue. “Mom stopped putting carrots in her meatloaf years ago just in case you happened to come by for dinner again. Speaking of, it’s cold and I’m hungry and if I’m guessing correctly, you’re headed home without any dinner plans of your own.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you put one-hundred percent into your candles, and if I remember right, it’s the holiday candle making time of year. My bet is you didn’t even eat lunch today.”
“I had a granola bar around noon.”
Kevin smirked. “You just proved my point. Come to Mom and Dad’s for dinner, will you? Plus, I need a ride, so it’s a win-win all around.”
“Why didn’t you just have your driver drop you off there?”
“That was the plan, but then I saw you and had to stop. It’s been too long, Chrissy.” Kevin went in for another hug, but this one felt different than the first. “Too long.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” Chrissy said, half-hugging Kevin back. She knew at one point in time, the man had had feelings for her. He’d asked her out on more than one occasion, and had he been anyone other than Nick’s brother, she probably would’ve accepted at least one of those persistent invitations. He was an undeniably handsome man with a huge heart and even bigger personality. That charisma was both charming and intriguing. Chrissy knew she shouldn’t feel guilty that she had never reciprocated his affection and she hoped that an accepted dinner invitation wouldn’t give him any false ideas or hopes this time around.
“Come on.” Kevin detected her hesitation. “It’s just dinner. You’ve got to eat.”
“Alright,” Chrissy conceded. “But if there are any carrots, I’m out of there,” she teased.
Kevin laughed deeply. “Deal.”
Nick
“NICK, CAN YOU grab the candied carrots from the oven? They should be just about done.”
Grace McHenry’s kitchen smelled incredible. If good food could feel like a physical force, this was a hearty embrace. The perfectly browned buttermilk rolls were cooling on the counter, the meatloaf resting on a hot pad next to the stove, and there were fluffy, whipped potatoes scooped into a large serving bowl, ready to be dished onto plates in heaping spoonfuls.
A dinner like this could only mean one thing: Kevin was on his way home.
Nick was cautiously eager to see his brother. “What time will he be in?” he asked his dad, Joe, as he slipped his hands into two oven mitts and pulled on the oven door. Heat rushed out, flushing his face and singeing his eyelashes.
“Any minute. This afternoon’s storm delayed his flight, but last I heard he landed an hour ago and then grabbed a ride on over.” As his father spoke, the telltale creak of the unoiled front door hinges drew their attention away from the food and toward the entryway. “Speak of the devil.”
“Kevin!” Grace threw off her apron and bounded for the foyer. “Kevin! You’re home!”
Settling his rucksack onto the hardwood floor, Kevin raced toward his mother. “Mom!” he greeted as he scooped her up and twirled her around like part of a choreographed dance.
Kevin was Nick’s big brother in every sense of the word: stature, personality, and in his uncanny ability to make a grand entrance.
With the steaming dish of carrots in his hands, Nick poked his head around the kitchen corner and nodded toward Kevin. “Hey there, Kev.”
“Hey, little bro.” Kevin strode over and balled up a fist to mess Nick’s hair. “It’s been a bit.”
“Just a little.” Nick shrugged back from his brother’s roughhousing attempt. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too.”
Rushing back into the kitchen, Grace flapped her hands toward her youngest son and hissed under her breath, “Get rid of the carrots.”
> “What?” The dish was hot in Nick’s hands. “Why would I get rid—”
“Look who I ran into on my way here!” Kevin stepped back and suddenly Chrissy came into view, standing in the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room.
The casserole dished fumbled from Nick’s grip, clattering noisily onto the counter. “Chrissy?”
“Hi, everyone.” She gave a timid wave and then clasped her hands in front of her body. “I’m so sorry to just show up like this.”
“It’s no problem at all, sweetheart. We’re happy to have you. The more the merrier.” As she said this, Grace took backward steps toward the counter, shielding the offending vegetable from Chrissy’s view. Not-so-sneakily, Grace covered the dish with her discarded apron. “You always have a place at our table, I hope you know that.”
“Thank you, Mrs. McHenry.”
“Mrs. McHenry? Sweetheart, it always has been and always will be Grace with you.”
Nick could interpret the relief in Chrissy’s expression.
“Thank you, Grace. I appreciate it. Smells wonderful in here.”
“Not quite as good as your candle shop,” Grace said. “Everything’s about ready if you boys want to get washed up for dinner. Chrissy, would you mind helping me set the table?”
“I’d be happy to.”
While the women collected the utensils and cutlery, Nick joined his brother at the sink. He flipped the faucet on and spoke over the rush of water that tried to drown out his words. “What are you doing here with Chrissy?”
“I told you, I ran into her outside her shop on my way over.” Kevin shoved his brother out of the way and pumped the soap dispenser. “She hadn’t eaten yet, so I invited her to join us for dinner.”
“Last I checked, the town’s square is not on the way home from the airport.”
“So I took a little detour?” Kevin shrugged. He pulled the towel from the counter and wiped his hands, then passed it to his brother so he could do the same. “We haven’t seen each other in ten years and the first thing you want to do is quiz me about my driving route?”
“That’s not what I want to quiz you about,” Nick started in, but he was interrupted by his mother’s beckoning from the dining room.
“Boys, we’re waiting!”
“We can discuss this later, little bro. Right now my stomach is growling louder than you’re talking.”
Nick followed Kevin out of the kitchen and took a seat in between Chrissy and his father. The table was set with crimson placemats, napkins embroidered with metallic snowflakes, and tumblers boasting green and red plaid rims. In the center was an elegant vase of red and white roses with pine cones and needled ferns folded into the arrangement. Grace’s dining table was always a welcoming sight, but during the holidays it was a festive masterpiece.
Like she couldn’t hold it in any longer, Grace let out a squeal of excitement. “Goodness! I just can’t believe this. Everyone here in one place, at Christmastime, no less!” She took her knife and fork into her hands and declared, “Let’s eat!”
Dishes traded hands and utensils clanged as the family partook in the spread before them. Kevin shared what he could about his most recent assignment, but there was always a bit of confidentiality involved in his life that made delving in too deep off limits. Even still, he could find plenty to fill the silent gaps that inevitably arose and Grace and Joe hung on their eldest son’s words with rapt attention.
Glancing next to him, Nick noticed Chrissy push her food around her plate with the tines of her fork. She’d look up and smile as the conversation warbled around her, but there was a void, blank glaze over her eyes and an empty smile worn on her mouth, like she was there in presence only.
“She doesn’t put carrots in it anymore,” Nick whispered while Kevin recapped his turbulent plane ride, complete with swooping, charade-like arm movements. “It’s totally safe.”
“Oh.” She settled her fork onto the tablecloth and grinned, this one with a hint of feeling. “That’s not it. I guess I’m just not all that hungry.”
“No worries. Mom’s not going to be offended if you don’t eat, Chrissy.”
“I know she won’t be.” She looked over at Nick. “I think we should talk about what happened this afternoon,” she spoke in a low volume with her head bent like she could trap the words there, keeping them tucked just between the two.
“Nothing happened.” Nick shrugged and filled his mouth with a bite of potatoes. “We’re good, Chrissy.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. Totally sure.”
Dinner became less about eating and more about Kevin retelling old stories Nick had heard so many times he could recite them by heart, and he hadn’t even been the subject of them. Still, it was good to all be in one place again, if only to see the joy on his mother’s face and hear the delight in his dad’s robust laugh.
This was the reason Nick had come home, anyway. To be a part of a family again.
“Who’s your partner this year, little bro?” Kevin’s question was directed at Nick and it snapped him out of his wandering reverie. “For the sledding competition this weekend?”
“I haven’t thought—”
“I am,” Chrissy interjected. “We’re a team.”
Nick’s eyes rounded in surprise, along with everyone else’s at the table. “Oh, um…”
“Wow.” Kevin pulled his chin to his chest. “Just like old times then, huh?”
“Yep.” Chrissy nodded confidently as she continued, “We’ve been working on our sled for some time now. Wait until you see it. It’ll blow all the other competition out of the water. Or rather, out of the snow.”
Nick didn’t know how to respond so he let Chrissy continue all on her own.
Kevin appeared confused. “Sounds like I’ve got to find myself a teammate soon or I’ll be left in your dust.”
“Left in our powder is what I think you mean.”
“Oh, it’s on!” Kevin clamped his hands down onto the tabletop. “Dad? You in? Wanna race down the slopes against these two amateurs?”
“I don’t know, son.” Joe vacillated.
“It’ll be fun, Joseph,” Grace encouraged, tapping her husband’s hand. “You haven’t sledded in years.”
“My point exactly.”
“What could go wrong?”
“I could gravely injure myself and never be the same again.”
Nick pushed back from the table and stood, then began collecting dishes, readying to take them to the kitchen to wash. “Speaking as someone who has done exactly that, I’m with Dad. Might be best if we both sit this year out.”
In one swift motion, Chrissy scooted out her chair and trailed Nick, several more dinner plates in her hands.
“Nick,” she called out from behind as she quickened her strides to catch up.
In the kitchen, Nick placed the stopper into the bottom of the sink and flipped the faucet to fill it with warm, sudsy water. After scraping the remaining bits of food into a nearby trash can, he placed the dishes into the basin.
“Nick,” she said again as she settled her stack of plates onto the tile next to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that back there. We don’t need to be partners. I didn’t even think about your knee. Forget I ever mentioned it.”
“It’s fine, Chrissy.” With the brush in hand, Nick began washing each plate. He scrubbed harder than necessary. He wasn’t angry, but frustration bubbled within him and he needed a release.
Chrissy handed him a plate. “You wash, I dry?”
“Sure thing.”
She scooted around to his right side and opened the top drawer containing clean dishrags. That Chrissy still knew where everything belonged within the McHenry household made Nick equal parts happy and sad. He couldn’t figure out this space they’d created—this limbo of unacknowledged emotion.
“Honestly, I think my knee would be just fine,” Nick admitted as he pulled the cleaned plate from the water and passed it to Chrissy.
“I’m not sure my heart would be, though.”
As she took the dish, Chrissy’s hand brushed Nick’s and those sparks from earlier ignited in his stomach, like a brilliant firework display. This woman still had such a hold on him, a hold he had no right to any longer.
“Nick…”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Chrissy. In Heirloom Point. With you. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
She looked down at the flour sack towel as she wiped the face of the plate. “I’m so sorry about your injury, Nick. If it had never happened, you’d still be living out your dreams on the road, making a name and a life for yourself.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
He pulled another plate from the now murky water and handed it off. “I loved hockey, don’t get me wrong. But it never loved me back. When it all comes down to it, it seems so silly to give that much devotion to something incapable of returning it.”
Chrissy laid the plate silently onto the counter and turned to face him, empathy reflective in her blue eyes. “Nick, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you made the wrong decision in leaving. I think if you never pursued hockey, you’d always be left wondering what could have been.”
“Funny, but that’s exactly how I feel in this very moment. But not about hockey.”
This time, when she reached for another plate, Chrissy dipped her hand into the water. Nick startled when her slender fingers found his, interlocking one by one until they were grasped tightly underneath the suds and bubbles. His heart rocketed into a faster beat. With his thumb, he lightly brushed over the back of her hand, cherishing how soft and familiar it felt, even with the water surrounding it.
“Got some more dishes that need washing!” Grace bellowed as she scurried into the kitchen.
An Heirloom Christmas Page 11