by Toni Blake
“Things could work out for you, too.”
He stopped, sighed, and gave Grampy a look. “So much for not talking about it.”
“I’ll just say this one thing, then let ya be,” Grampy told him. “Way I see it is . . . I know you’ve had your mind set on this job down in Florida. But seems to me things keep stackin’ up here, things that are reasons to stay. There’s nothin’ waitin’ for ya there, son. But here . . . there’s a lot.”
Shane knew that. He’d told Candy that very thing, more or less. And an hour ago, he’d started feeling pretty damned comfortable with the idea of staying, and with everything that it held—maybe even a future that included his mother. Now he guessed he just wanted some time alone to digest it all. So he said to Grampy, “I’m aware. Of the reasons.”
“One of ’em is me,” Grampy said then, catching him off guard.
And Shane squinted in his direction. “Huh?”
“I figured ya think I mean Candice and Anita. And I do. But I’m bein’ selfish here, too. Maybe it seems like I got a hundred friends in this town, but . . . I like havin’ you around is all. And I hope ya know I’m there for ya. If ya need anything.”
Shane just nodded. “I do know. I’ve known it since you offered me a place to stay. Guess I just . . . need to do some thinking. Getting used to it all.”
Grampy tipped his head back. “So you’re sayin’ ya might not leave, after all?”
Another short nod from Shane. “It’s possible.”
Then he turned and went on his way.
He was climbing the steps behind the Mercantile when his cell phone trilled from his pocket. “What now?” he muttered. Seemed the world had a way of bothering a guy at the moment when he most wanted to be left to himself.
But when he saw the call was from A1 Body Shop, he answered.
“Good news,” said the voice on the other end. “Your truck’s all ready to go.”
Huh. “That is good news.” It would be a relief to have his own wheels again. “I’ll, uh, have to make arrangements to come get it.”
“Mo told us your situation,” the A1 guy said. “You’re without transportation, right?”
“Right.”
“We can send somebody to pick ya up if ya like.”
Damn—sometimes he forgot how nice people were around here. And he doubted he’d get that same kind of offer in Miami, or most other places for that matter. “I’ll take you up on that,” he said.
An hour later, he was driving his newly painted pickup back to Destiny from Crestview.
It felt odd in a way—because the last time he’d been behind the wheel, driving this truck into Destiny, he’d wrecked and met Candy in the blizzard. He’d been passing through, just looking to solve a little mystery laid out by his father. Well, now he’d solved it—though part of him wished he hadn’t. Part of him wished things had stayed the way they were—where he’d understood who he was and what his life was about, where he’d had all the answers.
So the same heaviness that had weighed him down earlier still hung about him as he parked behind the Mercantile and again climbed the steps to his sparsely appointed little room.
It was sure a hell of a lot more comfortable at Candy’s—and he knew he could drive there right now and be greeted by her silly cat and a warm fire and her sweet embrace, and he could go have a nice home-cooked meal with her mother, who would probably be as kind and welcoming as everyone else in Destiny. And the General Mercantile was closed for the day now, but if he wanted a different kind of company, he could just as easily drive to Grampy’s place. He could go to Dolly’s Café for some pie or even stop by Edna’s for some peppermint bark. He’d be welcome at all those places and more.
And yet . . . it was all suddenly making him uncomfortable.
It was a hell of a lot to deal with, all these people—especially now that one of them was his mother.
His mother.
Believe her and it made his entire relationship with his father a lie. Don’t believe her and . . . well, if he didn’t believe her, he couldn’t stay here. Because if he stayed here, she’d be in his life. It was too small of a town to keep it from being that way. And maybe he wasn’t ready for that.
Maybe, deep down, he wasn’t sure he was ready for any of this. Promises. Commitments. Friends. Love.
After all, before making that fated turn toward this little town, he didn’t have to worry about any of that. All he’d had to worry about was getting to Miami on time and doing a job he’d be good at and making big money.
Damn, that almost sounded nice again. Or, well, simple anyway. And it was the Christmas he’d planned on.
What are you really gonna do here anyway? Sponge off people some more? Get a low-paying gig at the A1 Body Shop? Tie yourself into a relationship with the mother who abandoned you? Commit to a woman who, in reality, barely knows you? She doesn’t see the bad in you now, but she’s bound to sooner or later.
And hell—already she was wanting to “take him home to Mom”?
Maybe things would feel different—better, like he had options—if his job in Miami didn’t come with an expiration date. And yeah, it might not seem like the most aboveboard operation in the world, but another opportunity to make this kind of cash would be hard to come by. And this particular opportunity came without . . . weight. It sounded so damn easy right now compared to staying here.
And the fact was—he could still make it to Miami on time.
He could pack up his clothes, throw his duffels back in the pickup, and go. The same way he’d planned to all along.
And the more he thought about the simplicity of that plan, and about things like sun and sand and endless summer, the more it just . . . made sense.
Enough that he found himself doing just that—cramming clothes into the duffel bags he’d been traveling with, packing up stuff from the little bathroom.
Enough that his heart beat faster with the decision, with the rightness of it. Or at least the ease of it. A few hours ago, staying in Destiny had started sounding good to him. But he’d just been . . . a little bit brainwashed or something. Because what sounded good now was leaving. And forgetting this place as fast as he could.
As darkness fell and he threw his stuff in the truck, though, he knew there were a few things he had to do before hitting the road. It required a couple of stops and spending a last chunk of what little money he had—but he methodically made those stops, his heart still pounding the whole time.
And on the way out of town, he stopped his truck on town square and got out. A few people sprinkled the sidewalks, coming and going at Dolly’s or taking in the splendor of the big Christmas tree glowing in the night. And Shane took it in, too—all of it. The peaceful blanket of snow. Wreathes on lampposts. Frosted windowpanes on storefronts.
If you want to forget this place so bad, what are you doing?
But he cut himself a break. A lot had happened here, all of it completely unexpected. So maybe he was just taking a minute to . . . disconnect.
Soon enough, though, a brisk wind cut through him—and a few flakes of snow began to fall from the sky.
Time to get the hell out of Destiny before he didn’t have the choice anymore.
As he climbed in the truck, he felt thankful to have warm gloves on his hands, and he thought of Candy, and something in his gut pinched.
But just ignore that. You’re heading south, and by morning, you won’t even need the damn gloves anymore.
Twenty-four
“Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives, and when he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”
Clarence Odbody, Angel 2nd Class, It’s a Wonderful Life
Candice walked up onto her front porch to see the glow of the Christmas tree in the window along with the silhouette of a certain cat on the windowsill. Her heart warmed as she pushed her way through the door, eager to find Shane inside and very ready for the earlier-promised dessert.
When she didn’t see hi
m in the living room, she called, “Shane? Are you here?”
She didn’t get an answer. And nothing stirred. And her heart dropped a little.
A few lights were on, but they were the same she’d left illuminated for the cat when she’d left. And that was when it hit her that if Shane was here, he’d have probably built a fire—and the hearth was dark and cold and gray with ashes.
Well, it was disappointing that dessert would have to wait, but surely he’d arrive soon. And with that thought, she reached in her purse and pulled out her phone to check for messages. No calls, though, and no texts. Which seemed . . . off. It was after ten and she’d have thought if he wasn’t going to be here by now, he’d have let her know.
She was just about to text him, hoping nothing was wrong, when Frosty came bounding down from the wide sill and trotted over to her. And as she sat down on the sofa and bent to pet him, she spotted something attached to his collar.
She narrowed her gaze to see . . . a tiny gift. A little box wrapped in silver paper and topped with a metallic blue bow. “What the heck . . . ?” she murmured, reaching for the cat, pulling him up beside her.
But then—oh, was this some sort of surprise from Shane? She smiled down at Frosty, because this was the cutest idea ever. And maybe . . . maybe she would soon find out Shane was here somewhere. Maybe waiting for her in bed? And maybe he hadn’t answered because this was some fun, sexy plan—like a scavenger hunt that would lead her to him?
She bit her lip as she detached the little gift from Frosty’s collar, thinking this was the perfect homecoming, and that if it led to Shane, he was definitely the perfect Christmas gift.
She tore off the silver wrapping, then lifted the lid from the little box—to find a locket. The locket. The one he’d seen her looking at in town on the night of the snowcat contest. Her heart flooded with even more love for him as she picked up the silver locket with one hand and pressed the other to her chest. Knowing he didn’t have the money for this made her feel bad, but also told her how much he must have wanted to give it to her.
It had been cradled in the box by a piece of paper, folded up small, so she set the necklace carefully aside on the coffee table and pulled out the paper to discover a handwritten note.
I can’t replace the picture inside, but I hope this helps you keep the memory of it anyway. And maybe this will help you remember me, too. I’m sorry, Candy, but I just can’t stay.
Shane
Candice just sat there, staring at the words. They didn’t seem real. Nothing about this seemed real.
Because . . . she’d known he still might not stay. Even if her heart had told her he would, she’d known that wasn’t definite or final. But she’d never dreamed he would just . . . leave. Like this. Without even telling her. Without even giving her a chance to say goodbye. To kiss him, hold him, one last time. She’d never dreamed things could end so suddenly, without a shred of warning.
It made everything between them feel like . . . less. If he could just walk away so very easily—again, without even a goodbye, without even seeing her one last time—well, she must have been a lot less important to him than she’d begun to feel. Everything they’d done together, every moment they’d spent together, must have been . . . nothing.
Stop this. You went into this with your eyes wide open. You knew it was a fling. You knew it was temporary. You even knew he was trouble—because he told you, over and over. And you decided it would be worth it anyway.
You also knew it would hurt, but you decided that would be worth it, too.
You just never saw it ending . . . this way.
And . . . okay, after what he said this afternoon, you’d quit believing it would really end at all.
She shut her eyes, trying to crush back the tears gathering behind them. Oh God, this really does hurt. I forgot. How much. But now she remembered. Now she remembered why she’d kept to herself for so long, why she hadn’t wanted to risk heartbreak again. Now she remembered that it felt like having your heart and soul ripped out.
But at least he hadn’t done anything terrible to her. He hadn’t betrayed her or taken anything from her.
All he’d done was . . . what he’d told her from the start. He’d left.
So she didn’t even have the right to be mad—at least not technically speaking.
Even if the choice seemed cold.
Though he clearly thought a gift would smooth things over, make it better.
Apparently he did toss the word love around a lot more easily than she did. If there was a crime here, it was that he’d let her think he cared. He’d let her think he loved her, too. And even if he’d only told her that today, the way things were between them had, deep down, made her feel it before that.
Finally, she burst into tears. Great, heaping, buckled-over, sobbing tears. She lay down on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to her as she bawled, vaguely aware of Frosty sitting on the coffee table staring at her. One more man had walked out of her life.
“Well, it’s just you and me again,” she murmured to the cat through her tears.
“Meow,” he said.
“But hey, that’s not so bad,” she went on, trying to stop crying. “We were just fine before him—we’ll be fine after him.”
Only as she said the words, she realized why they were a lie. They were fine before they had a taste of something really special, really grand, a richer life full of love and companionship and sex and . . . completeness.
And sure, like every modern woman, Candice wanted to feel complete without a man—hell, she had felt complete without a man. But something about having Shane in her life, in her home, falling in love with him . . . had made her world undeniably sweeter, better, fuller. And once you have that and then it’s gone, are you really ever as fine as you were before?
She sighed, letting her eyes fall shut as this new sense of emptiness settled deep in her bones. Turned out Shane was trouble after all. Just a different kind than she’d ever feared. He was the kind of trouble that doesn’t even say goodbye.
Grampy looked around the General Mercantile at everyone who had gathered when he’d spread the word to meet at the store at noon. One face was notably absent.
He’d found a note on the Mercantile’s door this morning:
Thanks for all you did for me. I won’t forget it, or you.
Shane
And the fact was, it hurt him. Losing the young man’s company, his presence. And it hurt because he thought Shane had made the wrong decision and would likely lead a worse life for it. And it hurt that he’d gone so suddenly, without any sort of proper farewell.
Candice Sheridan stood near the doorway, near Tessa and Lucky Romo. Her cheeks were tear-stained and her eyes tired, and he thought it was mighty nice that she’d dragged herself out here in the cold when she’d probably rather huddle up in that big house of hers licking her wounds.
But Christmas Eve was tomorrow, and he couldn’t stop the clock. And if Anita’s boy had left . . . well, Grampy felt compelled to do something to try to make things better for the woman. Whether or not it would work was another matter.
According to Jenny Brody, word had already reached Anita that Shane had gone, and of course she wasn’t taking it well. Jenny had told Grampy that between that and the church roof cave-in, she didn’t think there was going to be a wedding tomorrow.
But Grampy hoped to change that. This town was good at banding together in times of trouble—and since this was just one more troubled time, he knew they could find a solution if they worked together.
“Here’s what I’m thinkin’,” Grampy said to everyone crowded into the store. “Our friends Anita and Walter have planned ’em a weddin’ tomorrow. And just ’cause it can’t take place at the church don’t mean it can’t happen someplace else. So I’m proposin’ we figure out how to throw those two the perfect weddin’ tomorrow night, a weddin’ that’ll make Anita forget all about that church—and about anything else sad. Now who’s got any ideas?”
“I’m sure any of us would open up our homes for the wedding,” Tessa said, “but most of them aren’t large enough.”
“And if it were any other season but winter, we could do it in Creekside Park,” Amy volunteered, “or in someone’s backyard.”
“Yeah,” Logan said on a sigh, “wintertime makes it tough. Really limits the options.”
“Unless,” Grampy said, giving his head a thoughtful tilt, “we just kinda . . . embrace the weather. It worked for the Christmas party at Miss Ellie’s, after all.”
“Just what are you brewin’ up in that brain o’ yours, old man?” Edna asked from his right.
He gave her a quick glance, complete with a grin, and then said to everyone, “What about a weddin’ on town square? Right next to the Christmas tree. Me myself, I can’t think of a prettier sight in all o’ Destiny.”
He could see the idea percolating in folks’ heads, could see them trying to get past the obvious drawbacks and wrap their minds around it.
Mike Romo said hopefully, “Walking paths have already been cleared there—we’d only have to remove enough snow to set up some chairs.”
“And we can use the same outdoor heaters the town bought for the party at Miss Ellie’s,” Adam added.
“And God knows this town can provide hot chocolate to keep people warm, too,” Candice chimed in with a small smile, and Grampy was happy to see a spark of light back in her eye.
Edna added to the idea then by saying, “Ya know, I got me a barn that fixes up real perty in every other season—don’t see why it wouldn’t fix up nice in winter, too. We just move them heaters over after the weddin’ and it’d be a good place for a party after.”
“Well then,” Grampy concluded, “given that time ain’t on our side, I’m thinkin’ we need to get to work on this lickety split.”