“There’s plenty of open space on the property,” she said. “And I found this site online that builds custom structures. I picture something that looks like a tent on the outside. But that’s just me playing around, Sam. I’m not going to do that.”
“No, of course not.” Sam tried to talk around his clenched stomach. He wanted her to think of what her options could be if she stayed. She didn’t have to be limited by Christmas Town; the town and its magic could expand her horizons even beyond New York. He wanted her to spread her wings, just not use them to fly too far away from him. “Whoever buys the chapel from you might like to see some of your ideas. If they see everything that’s possible, it’ll make selling it easier.”
“It would also be a nice addition to my portfolio for the project. A collection of ideas for wedding themes and events.”
“There you go. Christmas in July in Christmas Town,” he suggested and patted himself on the back when she nodded enthusiastically. “Who could say no to that?”
“Who indeed?” This time it was Marnie who stopped walking and stared down into the town they’d grown up in together. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Best place on earth,” Sam agreed.
Christmas Town never failed to entrance him. From the gingerbread houses on Mistletoe Lane to the old Victorians lining Twelve Days Avenue. Chimneys that puffed out oak scented smoke combined with the vanilla and cinnamon wafting its way up and around every corner. The garland strewn lampposts and endless pots of poinsettias, Christmas Town, in all its holiday perfection. But would it be perfect without Marnie? “Thank you for agreeing to walk instead of drive. I was feeling cooped up after the last three days.”
“I’m glad you suggested it.” Marnie took a deep breath. “I needed reminding there’s something outside the chapel. We’re nearly to Christmas and I haven’t even started my shopping yet.”
“Now there’s a newsworthy item,” Sam teased. “You’re usually done by September.”
“Dad died in September. But that reminds me. Would you mind if we stopped at Buds Are Blooming? I’d like to take some poinsettias to the cemetery for Mom and Dad before we head back.”
“We can do that. What else do you need to do?”
“Um.” She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye and gave him that hesitant grin he loved so much. “I have a list.”
Sam laughed and slung an arm around Marnie’s shoulders, hugging her against him. “My Marnie. Always organized. I give up. Take it out and let’s hear it.”
Chapter 6
Since Noelle had finished cleaning out the dining room and the table was clear for the first time in weeks, Marnie took it upon herself to start organizing all the extras she planned to put to use in the chapel once it was completed.
She made notes on stickies for the glass jars, lanterns, lights, ribbon. Fabric, displays, hangers…everything she’d ordered at the Christmas Town Workshop and For Christmas’ Sake, the latter of which had connections for crafting supplies. In a couple of days she’d be up to her elbows in glitter and votive candles, but those finishing touches were like a final Secret Santa gift: she couldn’t wait to get started and set the chapel alight with the glow of happily ever after.
She’d always known keeping a secret in Christmas Town was impossible, but word had spread so quickly about her facelift for Bells are Ringing it took even Marnie by surprise. She should have expected it, especially given the number of gossip prone teenagers involved with the project.
The last week, during one of their many trips to town, had given her the opportunity to bring a lot of other businesses in as sponsors and advertisers in regards to the chapel, from the hand-woven wreaths on the front doors, to small sign posts along the walkway directing people to Murphy's Tree Lot where they could find their own replica wreaths, garlands, or any holiday greenery need.
Her favorite acquisition? The handmade bows, a specialty of the Christmas Town gift-wrapping queen Billie Marion from the Bell, Book, & Candle shop that would soon adorn the windows in various holiday colors.
The more Marnie talked to people, the more she heard how excited everyone was at the prospect of an upgraded wedding chapel. The idea Bells are Ringing could become a tourist attraction made Marnie even more determined to make the project a success. She wanted everything—she wanted Bells are Ringing—to finally be perfect.
For whomever might take it over.
Which was why for the last couple of days, she’d stayed away from the chapel. Sam didn’t need the distraction of her hovering, especially not with the expensive realization that the boiler and heating unit in the basement were outdated and beyond repair. Sure it was something that could wait, but Sam reminded her that a new unit would raise the value of the selling price. Better to bite the bullet now rather than knocking off a good chunk of change because a new owner would have to replace.
Color and furnishings, decorations and those little touches were all details she could get behind. Electrical and construction issues, those she was happy to turn over to Sam, who, after consulting with Nick Banning, had hired out a heating and air business two towns over. The only down side was the project was taking a good chunk of time and pushing them up to their December twentieth deadline faster than Marnie was comfortable with. But that was why Sam had worked hard to stay ahead of schedule; so they had a buffer.
A smile touched her lips. He was always looking out for her.
She didn’t even want to think about the cost of the boiler and the dent it would make in her bank account, but Nick and Sam had both assured her they’d worked out a deal with the installation company. She might end up on the other side of this with enough to cover the last of the lighting expenses and some to spare.
And so today, three days until deadline, she waited. Again. She should have paid for expedited shipping on the crafting supplies she’d ordered. At least then she’d have something constructive with which to occupy her overactive mind. Not that she didn’t have other things she could be doing. Which reminded her…
So Noelle wouldn’t walk into the mess Marnie made, she shot her sister a quick text of warning and as she climbed the stairs, chuckling at the typical Noelle response: WtEv. Whatever.
Grinning, Marnie returned to their mother’s sewing room—a room that had been neglected thanks to Marnie’s shifting attention toward the chapel. With nothing to do except wait for Sam’s “all clear” call, she stopped futzing around and dug in, this time being ruthless in her organization and sorting techniques as she clicked on her mom’s old CD player, letting the classic combinations of Nat King Cole, soulful Garth Brooks, and energetic Manheim Steamroller put her even deeper into the holiday mood.
Her mother’s space was family history personified, and Marnie lost herself in the not so bittersweet memories. Coming across tatted ornaments with their lacy, intricate weaving of strings and patience gave her an idea for presents for her sisters and she stashed them in her room for future framing. Any ribbons and lace, whatever could possibly be put to use in the chapel went into its own oversized box. She lost track of time, buzzing around the room until the box of photographs she’d come across the other day presented itself.
Grabbing an abandoned bottle of water, she sat in the Boston rocker with the box on her lap to take a break and dive in, the smile on her face stretching as she plucked a bound stack free. Summer, ten years ago. Before Mom had gotten sick. Before her parents could even conceive of not being together. The trip to Roundover Lake and the cabin her father rented every year, had included Sam, who was dealing with his grandmother’s sudden death just months before the fire that left him scared. It hadn’t taken much convincing on Marnie’s part to talk her father into letting him come. Her dad was as fond of Sam as everyone else in town, especially after he’d rescued those horses. On more than one occasion, she’d heard her father say how his girls were always safe with Sam nearby.
Marnie flipped through the pictures, the nutty behavior of three teenage s
isters just shy of complete freedom. She narrowed her eyes and peered closer at the yellow bikini she was wearing. “Yeah, those days are over,” but then she stopped, set the box down, and looked more closely at the rest of the photo.
“Sam,” she whispered. Her mother had been the photographer and had managed to capture an expression on Sam’s face—an expression aimed directly at Marnie—as they sat on the docks dangling their feet over the edge into the water.
His scars hadn’t been inflicted yet and seeing him without them made her realize just how little attention she paid them. But it wasn’t the lack of scars that warmed her from head to toe.
It was the way teenage Sam looked at her. The slight smile on his face, the glimmer of affection in his eyes, and the gentle way he’d captured a strand of her damp hair between his fingers.
She knew that look. She’d seen her parents exchange it on so many occasions she’d begun to take it for granted. Never once did she realize she’d ever been on the receiving end of a look filled with such love.
“All this time?” she whispered. She hadn’t seen, maybe she hadn’t wanted to, but now that she did… Marnie clasped the photo to her chest, her heart beating against it in unsteady rhythm. Or had she? All those tingles she’d been trying to stifle roared back to life.
The back door banged closed. “Marnie! You here?”
Marnie’s skin went hot and she jumped to her feet, set the box down, and slipped the photograph into the back pocket of her jeans. “Coming!”
She found Sam leaning in their refrigerator, grungy T-shirt hiking up enough to expose his toned back above snug jeans, jacket tossed over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. The tingles exploding up and down her body seemed to take on a life of their own and connected into one big emotional rush. He really was nicely built. All those muscles and skin and… “Hi.” She pressed her palms flat against her backside, felt the edge of the photograph under her hand. “I thought you were going to call.”
“I did. It went to voicemail.”
“Oh.” She glanced back up the stairs. “I was listening to Christmas music. I must have left my phone on vibrate. Sorry about that. Um.” She took a step forward, rethought, backed up and finally stood still in the center of the kitchen, hands knotted together tighter than Santa’s reins during a snow storm. Whew. She let out a breath. “How’s the boiler coming?” She needed to focus. On the chapel. On New York. The future.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Done.”
Marnie blinked. “Done? I thought you said it would be at least another day—”
“Thankfully your dad had most of the pipes brought up to code a few years back, so that saved a lot of time and expense. I’ve got the kids putting a final polish on the floor now that the painting is officially finished. I even got the fabric draped over the rafters the way you wanted.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “So that means—?”
“That means first thing tomorrow I’ll get to installing those lights of yours that I’ve stashed in my garage. Then all your extras. Right on time to get your project submitted.”
“And then we’ll be finished.” Her heart skipped a lively tune before ka-thudding. The initial exhilaration of accomplishment reminded her that the work—and her time with Sam—would be coming to an end. New York awaited! She swallowed hard.
“Until you want to change something,” Sam teased. “Yes, finished. You want to come see?”
“Do I?” She raced into the hall and grabbed her jacket. “Let’s go!”
“Hang on.” Sam held up a hand as he chugged the glass of iced tea he’d poured for himself. “I needed this.”
Marnie watched him and tried not to gawk at the way the muscles in his arms strained and bulged as he arched his neck and drank. “Oh! My phone! Hang on.” By the time she got back, phone and camera in hand—she’d been taking pictures on both—Sam was standing by the front door and tugging his jacket back on.
“I can’t believe it’s this close,” she panted and dived out the door, remembering at the last minute to lock it. “I can’t wait to show Noelle and Chloe. I wonder if I should ask them if they wanted to add something of their own to the chapel.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Sam said as Marnie linked her arms around his and squeezed. “The place looks amazing, Marnie. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I hope not.” She picked up the pace and even though the exterior of the chapel hadn’t changed—the pristine white structure looked as proud and elegant as it always did from the outside, she knew the transformation inside was soul deep. For both her and Sam. “Is it me? Or does the building look happier?”
“I’m going to go with it’s you.” Sam chuckled as they stepped onto the snow-covered cobblestone path to the front stairs. When they reached the landing, he gripped the new brass door handle. “You ready?”
“Enough already!” Marnie practically growled and dashed inside before he’d even pulled it half way open.
The smell of oil-based varnish hit first and made her grateful they spent the extra money on low VOC paint, but she didn’t notice for more than a second before her lungs emptied. The soft whites, silvers, and grays on the wall paneling couldn’t have looked better, and whatever harshness the combination might have produced was eased by the draping, misty fabric cascading over the rafters.
Elegance. Glamour. Marnie held her breath. Perfection.
The tiny icicle lights she had planned would be the perfect finishing touch, but even without that element, the glow about the room was exactly the mood she’d hoped for. Sam's students were grouped around the dais and as she moved toward them, they moved to the side to reveal the four large-paned bay windows that had replaced nearly the entire back wall of the chapel. The snowy scene on the other side, the bare-branched cherry blossoms framing the perfect view, like a photograph she never could have hoped to duplicate.
“It’s perfect.” Marnie turned and braced herself against the wall, clutching her hands against her chest as she concentrated on breathing. To distract herself, she started taking pictures, making sure to get the detail of the view and the updated windows, along with the contrasting wall colors. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“We made up these signs for town.” Lara stepped forward and handed her a stack of papers. “We thought you’d like to do a Christmas open house once everything’s arranged. Maybe get some new events booked in.”
“Yeah.” Marnie nodded, not having the heart to tell them that aside from the two weddings she’d already penciled in for January, she wasn’t going to take on any more. It would be up to the new owners to see how Bells are Ringing would be utilized. “Great idea, Lara. Thank you. Thank all of you!” She called as they filed out of the chapel. “I can’t wait to show this off to the town.”
“And the town can’t wait to see it.” Sam held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “You’d best check out your new boiler.”
“Oh, um, sure.” Marnie winced and gave a weak smile to the teens as they gathered up their coats and bags and headed out.
“Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of the basement,” Sam teased as he guided her into the once miniscule kitchen that had been transformed into a practical and organized mudroom.
“It gives me the willies.” Marnie shuddered and peered down the steep, narrow wooden staircase that disappeared into darkness. “Always has.”
“This should help.” Sam reached around her and flipped a switch.
“You added another light.” She glanced up at the new fixture above the staircase.
“I kind of had to. The string on the bare bulb down stairs broke. The workmen had to bring industrial lighting with them to install the new boiler. Gave me a good jump start on the wiring which is almost done.”
“Bad?” She headed down stairs into the musty basement where she found a couple of those big industrial lights still set up.
“Gary and Craig are going to come by in the morning to help me finish.�
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“Giving the rest of them the day off?”
“They’re on call,” Sam said with a grin as he stepped down into the basement behind her. “Looks pretty good, huh?”
“Um.” She squinted into the darkness.
“Here.” He flipped a switch on one of the florescent work lamps and the entire basement went from gothic to rainbow bright. “New temperature controls, all new connections to the wall.” He pointed around the basement and she followed with her eyes. “Should last a good twenty, maybe even another thirty years. Depends on how harsh the winters are.”
“I don’t hear that weird rattling sound.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned closer. There was a warm, welcoming hum, however.
“And you won’t. This baby’s made out of a new material that is also insulated so less racket. Trust me, we couldn’t have asked for a better unit.”
“Are they going to bill me?” She wandered the expanse of the basement, trying to remember if she realized how much space was down here. The storage capacity alone was a huge bonus. If only that staircase wasn’t so ancient. “Sam?” She asked when he didn’t answer.
“Why don’t you show me where you’re thinking about installing those new lampposts?” He waved her over, clicked off the light, and kept a hand on the base of her spine as he guided her upstairs.
“Wait a minute, hang on.” Before she reached the landing, she turned and frowned at him. “What aren’t you telling me? Was the estimate too low? It was too low, wasn’t it?” She could all but feel her bank account draining. “How much more—?”
“It’s been taken care of. Come on, there you go.”
“Stop babying me.” She smacked his hand away when he tried to push her up another step. “Sam Ezekiel Collins what did you do?”
Sam winced. “I thought you promised to forget my middle name.”
“And you promised never to lie to me.” It was all she could do not to show him the photograph. What was she afraid of? That he’d tell her the truth? That she’d feel obligated…to stay?
A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances Page 13