The Clause in Christmas

by Rachael Bloome

  “Whatcha doing?” Ben asked casually.

  “Working on something in my shop. What are you up to?”

  The boy released an exaggerated sigh. “Hanging out with Mom and Grandma Maggie. But they’re still working, and I’m bored. Can you come pick me up so I can hang out with you?”

  Luke’s hand stalled over a particularly rough patch. He’d hoped for a night alone, but how could he turn Ben down?

  While Ben wasn’t blood-related, he might as well be. Luke had stepped in as a father figure the moment his childhood friend, Eliza, gave birth without Ben’s biological father in the picture.

  “I’ll leave in two minutes.”

  Ben whooped into the phone before shouting, “Mom! Uncle Luke is coming to get me!”

  Luke heard muffled sounds on the other end before Eliza picked up.

  “Hey, Luke. I’m sorry he called. You don’t have to come. Your mom and I are working on a big order for the Wilsons’ anniversary party, but we should only have a few more hours left. He can wait.”

  “I don’t mind.” Luke gave one more pass with the sandpaper before letting it flutter to the ground. “We’re in the middle of a cut throat game of Monopoly, anyway.”

  Eliza giggled, sounding relieved. “Okay. But only if you’re sure. He is driving us a little crazy. With my parents watching The Nutcracker in the city, he’s been cooped up here since school let out.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  After ending the call, Luke slipped his phone inside the back pocket of his faded Levi’s.

  Sure, he wouldn’t make any progress on the rocking chair. But babysitting Ben would have its benefits, too. Least of which would be serving as a much-needed distraction.

  The last thing he needed was free time to daydream about Cassie Hayward.

  Especially if she wasn’t even single.

  Chapter 5

  Cassie toyed with the silver heart charm draped against her throat as she debated her next move.

  She could delete the voicemail and block the number. But considering Derek left the I miss you text last night, followed by a voicemail the next morning, he would only get a new number and try again. Apparently, Costco sold unlisted numbers in bulk.

  Gritting her teeth, Cassie pressed play.

  “Hey, stranger!” Derek’s slick baritone assaulted her eardrum, and Cassie yanked the phone away, switching to the speaker.

  “Listen, we need to talk. It’s important. And it’d be nice to hear your voice, too.” A heavy sigh filled the pause. “I miss you, Cassie. Call me, okay?”

  Click.

  Tears burned her eyes as Cassie hurled the phone onto the quilted mattress.

  How dare he sound so casual! As if nothing had happened. As if—

  Dismissing the painful memories with a sharp shake of her head, Cassie snatched her phone and deleted the message before adding the number to the slew of others she’d already banned.

  The tiny upstairs bedroom she’d chosen as her temporary abode suddenly felt cramped and suffocating. Grabbing her purse off the antique Singer sewing machine that doubled as a table, she stuffed her phone inside.

  She needed fresh air.

  And a double shot espresso.

  While she’d decided to limit her time in town, save for a few trips to the small market when necessary, Cassie needed a haven—somewhere she could get a calming cup of coffee and clear her mind.

  But as she strolled down the cobblestone sidewalk along Main Street, her optimism evaporated. While the town boasted an entire store dedicated to yarn—seriously, was knitting an epidemic here?—there wasn’t a single coffee shop in sight. Her only hope was a run-down bakery called Maggie’s Place. Fortunately, the tantalizing aroma of vanilla bean and toasted chestnuts overpowered the pink, sun-bleached awning and peeling paint of the same Pepto Bismol color.

  A bell jingled overhead as Cassie pushed through the front door, the frosty air dispersing into the warmth generated by a grand river rock fireplace. While the prosaic decor was underwhelming at best, the glass pastry cases burst with the most delectable confections Cassie had ever seen. Rich, gooey brownies drizzled in gallons of chocolate fudge sauce. Buttery lemon scones with an icing glaze so thick it defied all reason. And the pies—mulberry, apple, elderberry—all so huge they could double as private islands.

  “Welcome! And what can I get for you on this lovely morning?” A motherly, rosy-cheeked woman greeted Cassie from behind the counter.

  Maybe it was the way her silver-streaked ebony curls framed her round features or the kind sparkle in her hazel eyes, but Cassie instantly liked her.

  “Do you serve lattes?”

  “Oh, dear. I’m afraid not.”

  “A regular coffee, then?” Cassie asked, hopefully.

  “Self-serve at the end of the counter,” the woman said with a smile. “How about a nice pastry to go with it? On the house.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—” Cassie started.

  But the woman merely waved away her protest before selecting an enormous brownie covered in crushed pecans and toffee chips. “I know a gal in need of chocolate when I see one.” Her eyes crinkled around the corners as she handed a day’s worth of calories to Cassie.

  “I, uh, thank you very much.” Dumbstruck by the woman’s generosity, Cassie slowly made her way toward the dubious-looking air pot.

  In Cassie’s experience, air pots were rarely a good sign.

  Setting the brownie on the counter, she selected one of the white ceramic mugs and tentatively pumped it full of the lukewarm liquid. Cassie cringed, noting the contents of her mug more closely resembled a storm drain than a proper cup of coffee.

  “It tastes as bad as it looks.”

  Startled, Cassie darted her gaze to a blonde woman scooping fresh cranberry scones into one of the pastry cases. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, maybe a few years younger than Cassie.

  An amused smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s mouth, and a guilty blush crept up Cassie’s neck.

  “Oh, well, it doesn’t look so bad,” she stammered, certain her cheeks were as red as the plump cranberries.

  The blonde snorted. “You’re a bad liar. And you’re also new in town, aren’t you?” She scrunched her pretty features, as though trying to read Cassie’s mind, when her dark eyes suddenly widened in realization. “Wait! You must be Cassie! I’ve heard all about you! And the clause in your grandmother’s will.”

  “Must be impossible to keep a secret in this town,” Cassie teased.

  The blonde’s friendly expression faltered, and she dropped her gaze, leading Cassie to second-guess her choice of humor. But before she could apologize, the woman’s dazzling smile returned.

  “So, tell me,” she said brightly. “What’s on the Christmas Calendar for today? I’m Eliza Carter, by the way.” She held out her hand, which was covered in flour.

  “Nice to meet you.” Cassie returned the handshake, wondering whether or not it would be rude to wipe her palm down the front of her sweater. Considering she’d already offended her new acquaintance with the crack about her hometown, she decided it was best to let the dust settle. “Today I have to cut down my own Christmas tree.” Cassie couldn’t help a grimace.

  “How fun! My son, Ben, is obsessed with Sander’s Christmas Tree Farm. He’d live there if I’d let him. And considering we live with my parents, there are days I’m tempted.” Her infectious laugh was loud and boisterous for someone with such a petite frame, and Cassie found herself joining in.

  “I wish you could go in my place. I’m dreading it,” Cassie admitted. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Or how I’ll get the tree from the farm to the cottage in my tiny Prius.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing! Ben and I would love to go with you! I get off work around five.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that!” Cassie said hastily, not wanting to develop more connections in town than necessary. “I was only kidding.”

  “Nonsense.” Eli
za flicked her wrist, flinging flour into the air. “We want to. Besides, you can’t tie a tree to a Prius. As much as I’d love to see someone try.”

  “Well…” Cassie chewed her bottom lip, ready to make an exception to her no-fraternizing-with-the-townsfolk rule for the sake of convenience. “Do you have a truck?”

  Eliza leaned across the counter, her dark eyes twinkling. “No. But I know someone who does.”

  Luke’s pulse lurched at the look of surprise that flickered across Cassie’s face when she opened the front door. Hadn’t Eliza told her he’d be coming to pick her up?

  “Hi.” Her surprise softened into an irresistible smile. “So, you’re the friend Eliza was talking about?”

  “Guilty.”

  “Speaking of Eliza…” Cassie peered over his shoulder. “She’s not with you?”

  “They’re running late. She said they’d meet us there.”

  A shadow of hesitation clouded Cassie’s green eyes as she looked from Luke to his pickup idling in the driveway. His heart flip-flopped. Did she think this was a date? Not that it wasn’t possible—or even probable—for Eliza to attempt a setup, but if Cassie thought he had something to do with it…

  He tugged on the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck.

  “Sounds great.” Her hesitation seemed to evaporate as she tossed one end of her plaid scarf over her shoulder before bounding down the front steps, leaving a faint trail of spicy bergamot behind her.

  Luke quickly followed, almost breaking into a trot to beat her to the truck.

  Cassie raised one eyebrow as he sprang for the passenger door, jiggling the finicky handle a few times before jerking it open.

  “Sorry.” He flashed a lopsided grin. “Blame my dad. There wasn’t a day in his life when he didn’t open the car door for my mom.” Luke could have kicked himself as he realized how his words might be misconstrued. “Or for any woman,” he rushed to add.

  The corners of Cassie’s lips quirked ever so slightly and Luke suppressed a groan. Was he that obvious? Eager to change the subject, he said, “You’re going to love Sander’s place.”

  As Luke’s pickup rolled to a stop in the dirt parking lot of Sander’s Christmas Tree Farm, they were greeted by endless rows of pine and fir trees jutting into the moonlit sky. Luke stole a glance in Cassie’s direction, watching her face brighten with awe at the sight of the roaring bonfire and canopy of twinkle lights stretched overhead, illuminating their path.

  “Pretty, huh?” Luke asked, helping her down from the truck.

  Cassie nodded as she took in the idyllic scene of families roasting marshmallows around the crackling fire, serenaded by two harmonizing cowboys plucking “Silent Night” on their guitars.

  “Uncle Luke!” Ben tore across the parking lot before Eliza even closed the driver’s door of her run-down Honda Accord.

  Luke chuckled as Ben tackled him with a bear hug. “A little excited, are we?”

  Ben grinned and whispered loudly in Luke’s ear, “They let you have as much hot chocolate and s’mores as you want.”

  “You don’t say.” Luke turned his smile on Cassie. “Did you hear that? All the hot chocolate you can handle.”

  Releasing his hold on Luke’s waist, Ben glanced at Cassie, his expressive brown eyes widening in recognition. “Hi!” He flapped his gloved hand in an enthusiastic wave.

  “You two know each other?” Joining them by Luke’s truck, Eliza raised her eyebrows in question as she pulled her Santa hat over her ears.

  “We met my first day in town,” Cassie explained. “I lent a hand when his baseball got stuck in the roof of the bandstand.”

  “Thanks for that! Otherwise, this little daredevil would have tried to climb on top and wound up with a broken arm.” Smiling affectionately, Eliza tossed what looked like a green elf hat at her son. “Cover your ears. It’s freezing out here.” Her words escaped in a puffy white cloud.

  Ben jammed the pointy hat over his shaggy blond hair, squirming in anticipation. “Can we go? Can we go?”

  Eliza laughed. “All right. Let’s go roast some marshmallows.” She reached for her son’s hand before turning to Luke and Cassie. “You two ready?”

  “Not yet.” Luke retrieved a chainsaw from the back of the pickup. “We have some work to do first.”

  Cassie’s face registered her shock. “We’re cutting a tree down with that?”

  “No, you’re cutting a tree down with this.” Luke’s lips twitched, betraying a playful smile.

  “Great. I knew this Christmas Calendar would kill me,” Cassie muttered, hugging herself against the cold.

  “You two have fun!” Eliza winked at Luke before tugging Ben toward the firepit.

  Luke cringed at Eliza’s lack of subtlety. Hoping Cassie hadn’t noticed, he hoisted the chainsaw over his shoulder. “Okay, what kind of tree do we need?”

  “The Calendar said to get an eight-foot Fraser fir.”

  “Of course. Only the best!” He led her down a row of towering fir trees, enveloping them in the sharp, poignant scent of evergreens. “Tell me when you spot the one you want.”

  “Can’t we cut down the first one we see?” She let her gloved hand brush against the prickly branches as they walked past.

  “Is that how you picked your boyfriend?” he teased, instantly regretting it. The last thing he wanted to think about was her doting boyfriend back home.

  Cassie paused, her lips slightly parted as though about to respond. Then her eyes widened, focusing on a point over his right shoulder. “There it is!”

  Luke turned, following the direction of her finger until his gaze rested on a bushy, lopsided fir. “That one?” He tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice but didn’t succeed.

  Her bottom lip protruded in an adorable pout as she crossed her arms. “Remind me whose tree we’re picking out?”

  He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

  Lifting the superfluous branches near the bottom, Luke bent down to assess the trunk. Then he walked around the perimeter to determine the correct direction to safely fell the tree. Satisfied with his assessment, he slipped a pair of safety goggles from the inside pocket of his ski jacket and handed them to Cassie. “They’re not stylish, but they’ll protect your eyes.”

  “From what?” She glanced nervously at the gargantuan safety hazard. “If that thing falls on me, I doubt a pair of goggles will be much help.”

  “They’ll protect you from any wood particles that might blow back while we cut through the trunk.”

  “And what’ll protect me from death by tree-crushing?”

  Luke passed her the chainsaw. “I will.” Stepping behind her, he slid a second pair of goggles out of his bulky jacket. “First, take off your gloves. You’ll get a better grip without them.”

  He waited for her to stuff her gloves inside the pocket of her black peacoat before moving in closer. With his chest aligned with her back, he moved his arms around either side of her, situating her hands in the proper position around the handle of the chainsaw. “The vibrations will take some getting used to, but whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

  Luke couldn’t help noticing how close their lips were. It would be so easy to—He swallowed, pushing the thought as far down as possible. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here to help until you get the hang of it.” His fingertips found the pull cord, and he drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the sweet scent of her silky hair as it grazed his chin.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded slowly, giving him the go-ahead.

  Their bodies vibrated as the chainsaw rumbled to life, and Luke heard Cassie’s sharp intake of breath. He helped her cut a notch at the base of the trunk, then shouted over the noise, “It’s all yours! Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Stepping back, he watched the chainsaw bore deeper into the trunk, all of his senses on high alert. Cassie’s slight frame shook w
ith the force of the power tool, but her features set in determination.

  Suddenly, a large crack rang out, and the massive tree toppled over.

  Luke rushed to Cassie’s side, retrieving the chainsaw and killing the engine.

  Breathless, Cassie pushed back the goggles, her green eyes bright and sparkling. “That was incredible!” Shaking out her hands, she hopped in excitement, a huge grin illuminating her face. “I can’t believe I actually did it!”

  A vision of pure joy, Luke wanted to hug her on the spot. Instead, he slapped her on the back like she was one of his buddies. “Nice job. I think you’ve found your calling as a lumberjack.”

  “I think you’re right.” She giggled.

  “And now,” he said, bending down to grab the trunk. “You’ve earned yourself a hot chocolate.”

  Cassie seemed to glide on air as they made their way back to the truck with her hard-won prize.

  Luke had grown up cutting down their own Christmas tree every year, and while he always enjoyed it, nothing compared to seeing the experience through Cassie’s eyes. Her fervor was infectious.

  Taking in the velvety black silhouette of the treetops against the star-studded sky, the brisk, wintry air, and the intoxicating scent of pine needles and fresh sap, Luke couldn’t imagine a more perfect night.

  Until Cassie said eight little words that sent his already soaring heart plummeting over the edge.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, by the way.”

  Chapter 6

  Cassie groaned, burying her face in her hands while she waited for her morning caffeine fix to steep in the French press. The subtle fruity flavor notes of her favorite Colombian roast only slightly served to calm her erratic heartbeat.

  Why had she told Luke she didn’t have a boyfriend? Momentary insanity? That was the only logical explanation. Her body had been pumped full of adrenaline while cutting down the Christmas tree, and the minute it drained from her body, it took her common sense with it.

  Cassie rinsed her favorite mug in the porcelain sink and set it next to the French press, admiring the gentle curve of the delicate handle. Although she’d only been staying at the cottage for a few days, it hadn’t taken long to choose a favorite mug. It had little to do with the color or design. Although the vibrant red poppies made for an eye-catching pattern. The immediate connection stemmed from the way its weight settled in her palm, instantly finding an equilibrium as though it belonged there.