Christmas in Winter Valley

by Jodi Thomas

  Only Tye didn’t have Dani in his life anymore. He’d lost her, kind of like he’d lost most everything. The only thing he was truly good at was leaving.

  As he turned onto the county road, he decided to head for Crossroads, where the doc had said she thought some of the drawings resembled buildings in town. He’d get a room if they had an it’ll-do hotel, and walk around come daylight. It shouldn’t take long. Maybe he’d drive a few dusty roads looking for a ranch with an outline of a horse as its brand.

  He passed a café with a line of windows facing the road. Old blue-green booths were pushed close to the windows inside so everyone had a view of the traffic and the post office across the street.

  He circled, then turned into the café and parked. He took a few minutes to flip through the drawings. There it was. A café with wide windows and the booths showing in every frame. Of course, it wasn’t any great revelation. Probably every town had a café that looked pretty much like this one.

  Tye decided to eat before he drove farther. He wasn’t very hungry, but it was something to do, and he estimated he had about forty years left of looking for something to pass the time.

  Inside, the waitress took his order without trying to make small talk. While Tye waited for his meal, he watched rain dripping down the windows, forming a hundred tiny streams. Cars passed, their lights blurred into starbursts.

  Only a few people dotted the café. Loners like him, eating late. Tye leaned back and studied the notebook. If he could find one or two more clues, he might have some direction. So far all he had were maybes, nothing to anchor the book to this place. But the book was trying to tell him something.

  When the waitress brought him his ticket for food he had barely tasted, Tye debated asking about a hotel or where the nearest bar was. For once, the hotel won out.

  “There’s a motel just out of town, but it’s closed for remodeling. Has been for almost a year now, and no one has seen any work going on out there.”

  “Thanks.” Tye wasn’t sure for what, but it seemed the right thing to say.

  Just before she walked away, she added, “There’s a bed-and-breakfast inn at the center of town. You can’t miss it. Two stories, looks like it was built with the leftovers from Gone with the Wind.”

  “Thanks,” he said again. “That’s not really my style.”

  “Suit yourself, but you’ll have to drive awhile to find another hotel, and this time of year, rooms book up the first sign of ice on the road. On flat roads like this, if you lose control and start to slide, you could be in Oklahoma before you bump into anything to stop you.”

  Tye grinned at her joke. “Maybe I’ll try the bed-and-breakfast.”

  Ten minutes later, when he pulled in front of the old two-story house, he knew he was looking at one of his grandfather’s drawings come to life. He parked across the street from a house that loomed like an ancient relic in a modern world. The trees were bigger than in the drawing. There were houses on either side of it now. But the pillars out front lined up the same. The windows, all the way up to a tiny triangle window in the attic, were exactly like the drawing.

  He’d found another clue.

  As he ran through the rain, he thought he saw Franklin on the mailbox, but he didn’t stop to make sure. He was wet and cold and tired. He’d check tomorrow.

  From the moment he entered the house, it felt familiar. Like he’d walked into this parlor before, a long time ago. He remembered the smell of lemon polish and honey-wax candles, and the way the Tiffany-style lamp made a thousand tiny triangles of light on the ceiling. As he circled the room, he decided Christmas must have exploded in this place. Every corner was decorated.

  A little lady, round as she was tall, hurried toward him. She had a red-and-green apron on and a necklace that jingled as she moved.

  “’Evening, stranger. If you’re in need of a room, we’ve only got one left. It’s small, but you’ll be out of this weather.”

  Tye removed his hat. “That’s all I need. One room for a night or two.”

  As he said the words, he realized that was all he wanted at the moment. A dry place to sleep. Maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t even dream.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  December 21

  ELLIOT TOOK HIS time riding home. He needed to think as he watched the sun fade, blanketed in clouds. Maybe he should have run away from home more often in his life. Nothing cleared the mind like stepping away.

  When the wind from the north picked up, he knew he’d be racing a storm to headquarters. He shivered as he galloped over the dry grass, but he couldn’t remember feeling so alive in years. Sometimes, all he saw was what was wrong with the ranch, but today he saw the beauty of it.

  He made it back, cold and hungry and happy.

  In the foyer, he dropped his coat and boots. As he walked through a silent house to his room, he really looked at the details of his home, for the first time in a long while. A hundred years of Holloways had lived here, worked here, loved here and died here. Some people needed to travel the world, but his world was right here.

  It was so late, even the office light was off. Maybe Jess had finished and left. Back to her life. Back to her fiancé. She and Richard could go to Paris and live the rest of their lives as partners.

  He felt strange not hating her anymore. The hate he’d carried so long had melted into sorrow. For him. For her. Even for poor old Richard, whom she probably didn’t love, and the guy might never know it. If she had to ask if he was alone, that had to mean that she knew that he had someone else he spent the midnight hours with. They had a company to run, vacations to take with their families. Their world would be full of numbers, not passion.

  It told him a great deal that there hadn’t been one word of endearment in her phone conversation.

  He made it to his room and went straight to the shower. The strange day had been a journey for him. A roller-coaster ride over emotions deeper than he’d thought he had. A part of him would always love Jess, and maybe a part would always be sorry it hadn’t worked out with her. But he’d make it, though.

  When he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his thoughts were trying to form words that he might say to her. Strangely, he wanted to part, if not as friends, at least not as enemies.

  As he turned into his bedroom, the sight of her sitting on the corner of his bed hit him like a cattle prod shock. Still dressed in her very proper black suit and cream blouse, she reminded him of a judge about to hold court.

  She didn’t say a word as he crossed the room and pulled out underwear and a T-shirt. “Mind if I get dressed?”

  “No. Would you like me to leave?”

  “I don’t care, Jess. In case you’ve forgotten, we were lovers for three years. One of which we lived together. I think you’ve already seen a lot of me.”

  She grinned. “College days. I remember. You never did your half of the housework.”

  He turned his back and began to dress. “From the mess in that two-room apartment that I remember, neither of us did. How about old Richard? Does he do his half of the housework?”

  “I wouldn’t know. We don’t live together. He lives in a town house thirty minutes from the office. I live in a high-rise two blocks away from the firm. I walk to and from the office with no traffic.”

  “Let me guess—you live on the third floor.”

  “Fourth.” She lifted her chin an inch. “It was the only apartment available that was close to my requirements.”

  “I know, high enough to be off the ground but nowhere near the clouds.”

  She nodded. “You remembered. But I’ve changed. Fear of floods doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.”

  “That’s good. Of course, they rarely reach the fourth floor. Surely there’s room for old Richard.”

  Elliot glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. When she di
dn’t answer, he figured it was none of his business. He pulled on a pair of jeans, even though he’d planned to go to sleep. But he wasn’t about to ask her to leave.

  “Want to go raid the refrigerator?”

  “Sure. After you left, I just worked. I don’t think I’ve had a meal since the ribs and beer. I ate enough of them to hibernate for the winter.”

  They moved through the silent house to the kitchen, and Elliot put out leftover coleslaw, green-bean salad and different kinds of cheese. He didn’t look up when he asked, “Any chance you’re going to tell me why you were in my room?”

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For all of it. For not making an effort to come visit years ago. For not supporting you when you lost your dad. For hating you half my adult life.”

  He forgot about the food and came around the bar to stand in front of her. “I feel the same. I never meant to cause you pain, Jess. Never. You told me from the first how important your goals were, and I understood why. I remember thinking your dad might disown you if you didn’t do everything just right. Is he still as overbearing as ever?”

  “Not so much. He and my mother divorced a few years ago. He’s remarried. She keeps him busy. I rarely see him outside the office.”

  He might have hugged her, but her back was ramrod straight. He had the feeling she’d shatter if he touched her. His Jess had been a fighter from the day he’d met her. She’d been valedictorian of her private high school, graduated with a four-point GPA from Texas Tech so she could have her pick of jobs and, of course, she’d picked her father’s company. She’d known she would since she’d played in his office chair.

  “So,” she began with what he knew was probably a planned speech. “How do we end this? Shake hands and walk away? Toast to the rest of our lives apart? I have no idea how people like us say goodbye. Maybe that’s why we didn’t.”

  After all these years, he could still read her mind. “How about we finish with the books?”

  She nodded. “I agree. The perfect ending. We’ll have worked together, if only once.”

  “I’d like to add one other thing. When the books are finished, Jess, you stay one more day, and we figure out how to be friends. Like it or not, we are both a part of each other’s past. Maybe we can get to a place where we can exchange Christmas cards, or maybe call now and then, maybe be friends online.”

  “I’d like that.” She picked up her plate and suggested they move to the office. She had a few questions, and he might as well answer them while they ate.

  Logical Jess, he thought. No wonder she’d been so easy to love. She thought just like him. The work always came first. It had been the balance in his life.

  She asked a few questions about the books, then a few about the ranch. He was surprised she was interested. Rain tapped on the windows as they talked, and he remembered how she used to be afraid of storms.

  When he asked if she still was, she said that was what was great about living in downtown Houston. She was surrounded by buildings that seemed to protect her from the weather. “If I’m home, I barely notice when it rains, and I can’t see enough to watch the sky.”

  He couldn’t relate. As far as he knew, everyone on the ranch woke to the weather report. It was their partner, their enemy, their friend.

  When lightning flashed outside, she jumped, and he realized her fear was still there.

  “I remember how it stormed that weekend I visited here before. I feel so raw with the storms out here.”

  “I’d forgotten about that storm.” Thunder rattled, and he doubted she was listening to him. When it calmed, he added, “I guess we’d better call it a night.”

  She nodded, as if trying to think of something positive about this frightening place. “I love the sunrise view from my room on the third floor, but I left the drapes open this morning. Would you close them for me?”

  “Sure.” He followed her up the stairs, but when they reached the third floor, the storm seemed so much closer. Rain pounded on the roof. The thunder was closer. The lightning flashed brighter. Sunlan had put in east-facing floor-to-ceiling windows, but now the storm was putting on a show only one pane of glass away.

  If he’d been alone, he would have watched, but all he saw now was her fear. “It’s all right, Jess. This house has stood for a hundred years, and it’ll stand tonight.”

  He pulled the drapes, plunging the room into darkness except for the one lamp by her bed. “It’s all right,” he said again. “It’ll pass soon.”

  She sat on the bed, her hands laced together on her skirt. When she’d been five, her family had lost their roof to a tornado. Her house had flooded that night. Just a few inches, but she’d told him the cleaners had come in and thrown away all her toys. He remembered she’d coped by always having a windowless bedroom if possible.

  He remembered that when they’d lived together, she’d always placed towels at every door, as if it would keep out any water.

  This house was built to see the land, and those who lived in it would wake up to the sunrise and go to sleep with big enough windows to watch the moon from their beds. The thing he’d always loved about living in the country was now frightening her.

  Elliot wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe just being near would be enough. When he’d left school, he hadn’t been there for her. All he’d thought about was his family. Now, if only for just this once, he’d stay. He’d help her however he could. She’d be his priority, his only concern.

  Kneeling, he pulled off her high heels, wondering why she insisted on wearing them. Part of her armor, he guessed. Then, with tender care, he helped her remove her jacket.

  He couldn’t resist letting his hands brush over her leg, then touch her shoulders. There was a time when he knew every inch of her.

  “It’s after midnight, Jess. Any chance you can go to sleep?”

  She shook her head.

  “How about I move you to another room? You can have mine and I’ll sleep up here.”

  Thunder shook the house.

  “The storm would still be out there. I’ll wait it out. Richard tells me it’s mind over fear. He calls me a coward when I’m afraid.”

  He pulled back the bedspread. “Crawl in. I’ll stay with you until the storm passes. We’ll wait it out together.” He almost added that he was starting to hate old Richard.

  Elliot covered her with the spread, then lay on top a few feet away.

  For a while neither said a word. Then, to his surprise, she took his hand. “Thanks for not calling me a coward.”

  “Why would I do that? Everyone’s afraid of something.”

  She turned toward him. “What are you afraid of?”

  He could barely see her face in the lamp’s light. She didn’t look so frightened as she gripped his hand.

  “Praying mantises,” he finally admitted. “I know they can’t hurt me, but I swear they belong as characters in horror movie, not running around in the ivy. I used to have nightmares about them growing to be ten feet high and coming after me. Did you know they practice sexual cannibalism? The female has sex with her mate, then eats him. Creepy little bugs.”

  Jess laughed. “I had no idea you were afraid of a bug. Aren’t they good for the environment, eating other bugs?”

  “I don’t care, and I imagine the female mantis’s boyfriend doesn’t, either. She bites off his head first. Probably his own fault. We should blame him for losing his head over a female.”

  Jess’s laughter turned to uncontrolled giggles as she walked her fingertips over the bare skin of his arm.

  He shivered and pushed it away.

  A moment later, her bug-like touch was on his ribs. Suddenly, they were twenty again. Laughing and picking on each other.

  When he finally pinned her arm to make her stop bugging him, his face was inches from hers. In shad
ows she was the girl—the only girl he’d ever fallen in love with.

  Without much thought, he closed the space between them and kissed her lightly. He knew it was a mistake a moment later. Elliot rolled onto his back and let go of her arm, closing his eyes.

  The yelling would start any minute. She’d call him every name in the book, and most of them would hit home.

  She leaned on her elbow, as if waiting for him to open his eyes.

  When he did, she asked calmly, “Why’d you do that?”

  “I don’t know. You can slap me if you want to. Loving you always felt so right, Jess. Maybe I just wanted to remember or pretend.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.” She placed her hand on his chest and leaned over him, then kissed him back. Only her kiss was longer. That wasn’t fair, but he decided not to complain.

  He’d always loved the way she kissed around his mouth, as if she was a butterfly looking for the perfect place to land. And when she did land, her kiss was suddenly demanding.

  Elliot pulled her onto his chest and gave her what she asked for. A real, passionate kiss, just the way she liked to be kissed.

  When she finally pulled away, she was out of breath. “You always knew just how to kiss,” she whispered.

  “That’s how you should always be kissed.” He wanted to ask if Richard kissed her like that, but he knew the old guy didn’t. If he had, they wouldn’t be sleeping in beds thirty minutes apart.

  Jess curled against his side. “In some ways, we were so right for one another.”

  He ran his fingers through her soft hair and tilted her face upward. When he lowered his mouth to her, she was ready for more. As the storm raged, a deep hunger stormed in him. He let his hand glide over her silk blouse, but he didn’t unbutton one button. She wasn’t his. His Jess was promised to another.

  She seemed to understand the unspoken rules. Somehow, the night let them feel what they couldn’t talk about. She might have moved on, made a life without him, but her body still needed his nearness.