by Baird, Ginny
Matt trudged through the sludgy sand, his heart light. So yeah, the beach roads were crappy. Impassable, in fact. In many ways, that was the best Christmas gift he’d ever had. Out of the blue, life had delivered him a second chance with Sarah. A woman from his past who could very well become a permanent fixture in his future. Sarah was beautiful and funny and kind, just the sort of person he’d always imagined himself winding up with. Him and a big bustling passel of kids.
Matt stopped walking, shocked at his own thoughts. Had he just considered making babies with Sarah? Yeah, he had, he thought, feeling his lips tug into a broad grin. Not that he was accustomed to getting ahead of himself, but Matt couldn’t help but wonder what that might be like. Just him and Sarah—and their big happy brood— all adorning the family Christmas tree with homemade decorations. Matt recalled how much fun it had been sitting around the kitchen table, making those crafts with his sisters and brother Robert. He’d even enjoyed working with his nieces last Christmas when they’d taught him how to fashion Christmas stars from pieces of tinfoil with little holes poked in them to let through the light. While he didn’t have ornament hooks from which to hang them, he had fishing wire to use as a handy substitution. Yes sir, his plan was going to work out fine. All he had to hope was that the tide hadn’t washed out his special surprise.
Chapter Seven
Sarah awakened early and stretched in bed. She didn’t know what had caused her to rise before seven o’clock. Generally, she slept until eight. Then suddenly she remembered. Of course! Today was Christmas Day! But what did that matter, really? How much could she expect at a beach house on the rugged North Carolina coast? She’d never partaken much in Christmas, anyway. And here she was, stuck with a man who’d never even expected her to be here. And was much less prepared to make the holiday special for her, besides. Sarah unfolded the simple poem she’d composed for Matt, hoping it wasn’t desperately inane. All she’d longed to do was give him something of her heart. She’d wanted to say thank you and had thought for a brief moment that this was a good way to start. Now, looking down at her uneven scrawl, she doubted her instincts. What if he thought her a fool, or worse yet—questioned her iambic pentameter? Sarah’s poetry had never been in perfect rhythm, but at least it was concise and summarized what she wanted to say.
After Matt had sent her to bed, she’d stayed up an extra hour trying hard to fashion its lines. He’d been so kind, and all she meant to say was thank you. Thanks for being the kind of guy I’d always believed was in this world. Since Sarah had been a little girl, she’d been putting words together. Sometimes clumsily; at others, in a neatly arrayed fashion. Her English teachers had told her she had talent, though she’d refused in many ways to believe it. What was important to her more than anything was reaching the people she felt driven to write for. Since coming here, Matt had become one of those people.
Sarah folded over the page, deciding that she’d have to give it to him. Most especially because what they had might not last. And, in the end, she thought with a heavy heart, it was destined not to.
Matt put on the finishing touches, feeling exhausted. He’d work hard all night to ensure everything would come off right. Since he was committed to protecting the environment, he hadn’t been about to insult a flourishing pine. Instead, he’d selected found driftwood as the perfect stand-in “Charlie Brown” yuletide tree. With the summer deck lights strung around it, it looked almost festive. The tinfoil ornaments he’d fashioned thanks to his nieces’ help had been a boon. Just last season, he’d sat with the three little girls around his mom’s kitchen table. They’d taught him a trick they’d learned in Brownie Scouts. How to create shiny star ornaments from cutout pieces of aluminum foil, dotted with pinprick holes to let through the light. They were somewhat reminiscent of Mexican lanterns, only hung from the branches of this wayward tree. Matt felt lucky that, in lieu of ornament hooks, he’d had fishing wire with which to secure them. He hoped with all his heart that Sarah would enjoy it. It certainly looked regal enough, standing nearly five feet tall and spreading its spindling braches wide on all sides.
Matt thought he heard stirring from Sarah’s room and debated whether to flee or to stay and wish her a merry Christmas. Before he’d fully processed that thought, she opened her bedroom door and suddenly appeared.
“Oh my.” She brought her palms to her perfectly pink cheeks. “What’s this?”
“Merry Christmas,” he said, his tone husky.
She stopped in her tracks and met his gaze, her voice wavering. “Is this what I think it is?”
He turned to her, his heart pounding. Of all the mornings he’d ever experienced, this was the one he hoped would go off right. “Your very own Christmas tree.”
She approached it slowly, then gingerly touched one of its branches. “Driftwood?” she asked, amazement in her eyes.
“I had to get creative,” he answered honestly.
“Oh, Matt,” she said, her voice cracking. She’d never had anyone do something like this for her before. How he’d done it or where he’d found the lights and decorations, she had no idea. But one thing was clear, the look in his eyes said he’d done it all for her. So this was what he’d been up to late last night with that box and why he’d snuck down on the beach. She gingerly touched one of the stars, and it pivoted on its thin wire, tiny arrays of light streaking through its pattern of holes. “Did you make this?”
He smiled, and the tears that had been aching to break through poured from her eyes. “I can’t believe you did this… Did this all for me.”
“I wanted to do something for you. Something to show you you’re special.”
How she wanted to show him he was special too. Sarah debated about giving him the poem but decided to put it off until later. She wasn’t sure how he might take it, and, given how well things were going now, she didn’t want to put a damper on them. “Thank you. It’s wonderful. Probably the most wonderful Christmas gift I’ve ever received.”
He took her in his arms. “I was hoping to make this day great for you.”
“It couldn’t be any more perfect,” she said, looking up in his eyes. And it was true. Sarah was feeling so bright and hopeful this morning. So positive, in fact, that she didn’t want any sort of negativity to get in the way. Ever since that first late-night conversation with Matt, she’d struggled with her attraction to him and been conflicted about becoming involved. But he was so warm and wonderful, it was hard not to be tempted to let those doubts slide. Just once, Sarah wanted to feel good about things and bask in this dynamite man’s attentions. Would it really be so wrong for them to have one ideal day where she could let herself go and live in the moment?
Matt glanced sideways, then sexily cocked an eyebrow. “Not even…if it’s snowing?”
She stared in delight out the large glass door to see a billion little white flakes driving down in droves to coat the deck framing the ocean. The scene was lovely, magical in its unexpected beauty. Matt took her hand and led her toward the door. “Come on!”
“We can’t go out there like this!” she said, referring to their sleeping attire.
“You’re right.” He nabbed a throw blanket from the sofa. “We’ll use this to keep us warm.”
But when he led her outdoors, Sarah realized she wouldn’t need the blanket at all. Matt scooped her in his arms, wrapping the blanket around them as snow beat down on the deck. She looked up at him as a smile worked its way across his handsome face. “There really is a Santa,” she said. Snow drove down harder, coating their hair with tiny white flakes. He brushed his lips to hers, and her world went all warm and fuzzy, in spite of the freezing cold. “I’m looking at him.”
“You’re all I want for Christmas. I’m so happy you’re here.”
He kissed her harder then, his deep passion sweeping her away while the wind and the snow swirled around them and the pounding ocean echoed the rhythm of their hearts.
A little while later, they sat wrapped up in a fresh blanket
on the sofa before a cozy fire, both sipping from mugs of hot cocoa. “I’ve never had a holiday like this,” she told Matt honestly. “This one’s been like a dream.”
“And it’s not over yet.” He gave her shoulder a tight hug. “I was thinking of making us some gumbo for Christmas dinner. How does that sound?”
“Delicious. Do you have everything you need?”
“Catch of the Day,” he said with a grin.
Sarah gasped at his revelation. “Are you saying you really went fishing last night?”
“It was more like early this morning, but yeah.”
“I thought you were sneaking outdoors, preparing all this.” She motioned to the makeshift Christmas tree beside them, sharing its homey glow.
“I was,” he told her. “But once I’d set the driftwood under the house to dry out a bit, I came back and got my fishing gear. You’ll really like the gumbo, I think. It’s not exactly turkey and stuffing, but—”
“It sounds great. Just let me know what I can do to help.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “Are you making a play to start cooking with me again?”
She laughed. “Might be.”
“You won’t have to offer twice.” He smiled softly. “Though I’ve got to admit making a roux won’t be nearly as sexy as baking cookies.”
Her lips took a downward turn. “Darn.”
He took her hand in his. “How did I get so lucky? One day I’m all over women, and the next, there you are.”
“All over women?”
“It doesn’t matter, really. I’m just happy my brother insisted I come here to get away.”
“So it was Robert’s idea, was it?”
“Uh-huh. Was it yours or Elaine’s?”
“Elaine’s, actually.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “Well, God bless them both. We’ll have to drink a toast to them later.”
Sarah had fun helping Matt with the gumbo. Though he’d been right, making a roux wasn’t nearly as sexy as baking cookies. It required devoted attention to hot oil and flour, and careful timing with tossing in chopped onions and celery. After a delicious dinner filled with easy conversation and laughter, Sarah helped Matt with the cleanup, which was minimal.
“What would you like to do now?” he asked her. “Shall we look for a movie?”
But Sarah was having so much fun talking with Matt, she didn’t want to find them caught up in something like that. “Maybe we could turn on some music and just visit awhile?”
“Sounds great to me.” He went to the living area to survey the CDs, neatly alphabetized on some built-in shelves. “What will it be? Christmas music or the Beach Boys?”
“Hmm. Tough decision. Why don’t we go with Beach Boys. I mean, given where we are.”
He grinned and loaded the CD. When Little St. Nick began to play, Sarah laughed. “Looks like we’re getting both! The Beach Boys and Christmas.”
“At least with this song,” he said with a chuckle.
She carried her wine to the sofa, but before she could get there, Matt approached.
“Care to dance?”
“Sure,” she said, setting her glass aside. The music was catchy and upbeat as he took her in his arms and they bounced happily to its tune. He twirled her under his arm, then whirled her back toward him, tucking her up against him. She laughed heartily. “Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“In North Carolina, they call this shag dancing. It’s big in the beach areas.”
When the song ended, a slower one started. Sarah turned to head back to the sofa, but Matt stopped her by taking her hand.
“Don’t go.”
She gazed up at him, and blue eyes sparkled, warm in the firelight’s glow. “I need you to stay with me,” he said, his voice gone husky, as Don’t Worry, Baby began. “Stay in my arms.”
He pulled her to him, and they embraced her pulse fluttering wildly. “This is all I want,” he whispered into her hair as he held her close. “Just to be with you. Right here and now.”
It was all she wanted too. Everything she wanted and had always longed for was right here in front of her. Sarah held on tight as they swayed to the music and the embers of the fire crackled softly. When the brief snow shower had let up, a deep fog had moved in. From faraway on the sound, the mournful cry of a tugboat wafted across the waters. They’d been through all kinds of weather, but with Matt, she’d felt safe, secure in the knowledge that he would care for and comfort her.
She would remember this Christmas forever.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, they sat at the kitchen island with their coffees.
“I can’t believe we got a white Christmas,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I had one. I had to have been a kid.”
“A light dusting was more like it,” he said with a laugh. “But, you’re right. It was special.”
She studied him with affection, thinking how much she’d come to care for him these past few days. No matter what happened later, she would always recall her time here with him in a fond way. “I want to thank you. Thank you for helping make yesterday the best Christmas ever.” She shifted in her seat to pull the poem from her jeans pocket. She’d debated about giving it to him at all but then had decided she needed to let him know that she’d thought of him.
She handed it over, apologizing. “I considered giving this to you yesterday but decided to wait. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” He appeared genuinely touched by the gesture.
He unfolded the page and looked down at the carefully crafted lines. “This is wonderful,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I’ve never had anyone do anything like this for me before.”
“I’ve never had anyone make me a Christmas tree out of driftwood.”
He smiled at her warmly, then lowered his head and began to read.
Between the earth and sky,
You and I
Are caught up
In this moment,
Where waves crash,
And lightning strikes
The shore.
You’re deep
In my soul,
Warming
The cold
Of my heart.
After a lingering moment, he looked up. “It’s beautiful,” he said, the words catching in his throat. “But also a little sad, don’t you think?”
“I thought it was hopeful.”
“Then I’ll take it as that way too.” He stared through the plate glass door, studying the horizon. “Looks like the storm has lifted. How about you and I take a stroll?”
Matt led her onto the beach, where soft winds blew and gulls called. The sky was cloudy yet calm, the ocean roiling peacefully below it. They walked a long way down the shore, neither one talking. There was an unspoken melancholy between them, as if each sensed their time together was drawing to a close.
“I want to thank you for the poem,” he said finally. “It means a lot to me that you’d write it.”
“It was nothing.”
He stopped walking to look at her. “No, it was something. Something really beautiful that came from your heart.”
Sarah felt herself flush. Oh, how she wished she could give him that heart, wholly and unconditionally. But there’d been conditions imposed on her she couldn’t help or change.
Matt took her gently by the shoulders and gazed in her eyes. “But Sarah, I want… Need you to understand. This is more than a brief moment for me. I mean, I want it to be more than that for both of us.”
Emotion swirled within her. “Just what are you saying?”
“That I don’t believe we both wound up here by accident. That maybe there was something else at play. Something bigger than the two of us, and maybe even more magical than…Santa.”
“It’s been really wonderful, but—”
“I’m not talking about anything drastic. Rather that we take this incredible serendipity as some sort of sign. A sign that maybe we weren’t meant
to walk away from each other three years ago. Then again, maybe we were, because things can be that much better between us now.
“All I’m asking is that when the ferry reopens, things between us won’t end. Let me take you out to dinner back in Bethesda. Maybe even a movie. We don’t have to rush things. There’s nothing wrong with taking our time.”
She pressed her lips together for a beat, studying him. When she finally spoke, her chin trembled. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You don’t even know what I want,” he said, his voice etched with pain.
Sarah dropped her eyes to hide the fact that they were watering.
“I’m not the girl for you. Not long-term.”
“Is it…” he began tentatively, appearing stung by thought. “Is it that you don’t feel the same way?”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel.”
“Sarah, please. Talk to me.”
She gathered her resolve and met his eyes, knowing this was for the best. Sometimes when you really cared for someone, you had to do what was right for that person. Not selfishly only consider yourself. Matt deserved to have the sort of life he was destined to lead. And that life couldn’t include her.
“I’m not interested. Not interested in any more than we’ve had here.”
Matt sucked in a breath and stared at her in disbelief.
“I guess that’s all I needed to hear,” he said hoarsely.
The telephone rang loudly as they reentered the house from their walk. Matt walked in a daze to answer it. So she didn’t feel the same. Had no interest in continuing things further. He’d done nothing more than make one big fool of himself his whole time here. He lifted the receiver with a heavy heart as gulls sailed beyond the kitchen window. “Hello?”
It was the ferryman, advising all residents on the island that the boat docks were nearly repaired. With the bad weather ended, the ferry would be up and running again the first thing tomorrow. Well, that was something, anyway. He and Sarah would no longer be trapped here together. Given the conversation they’d just had, that was obviously for the best.