by Lizzie Shane
“Of course I have—”
She talked over him. “I want to run the shelter. I want to feel like I’m doing something good by taking care of the dogs and finding them homes. I want to feel like I’m making people a little less disconnected and lonely. I only told you about that interview because I was trying to show you that I want this, so why are you so determined to push me away?”
“That isn’t what I’m doing—”
“I want a partner. I want someone to be all in—but you’ve never been all in. You’ve been hanging back and protecting yourself and thinking of all the reasons we might break up down the line and how awful it would be if it fell apart, so you never let yourself go there with me. It is better to have loved and lost, but you won’t let yourself.”
Irritation flashed through him. She was looking at him like he was being selfish when everything he did was for everyone else. “I’m putting Astrid first,” he snapped. “I have to think of her needs before mine, and she needs consistency. She needs people who are going to be there for her.”
“And I won’t? Haven’t I been there for her? Haven’t I done everything I can to show you that I care about you? That I want this? But you can’t let people in, can you? You use Astrid as an excuse, but she’s not the one building walls around herself and trying to do it all alone. It doesn’t make you weak to need people, Ben. It doesn’t make you any less a man. It just makes you human. And maybe a little less likely to drive yourself into an early grave. You can’t do everything yourself. No one can. Even if you feel like that’s what your sister asked you to do.”
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“She’s already in this. She’s the Ghost of Christmas Past, Ebenezer. And you’re making yourself crazy trying to live up to this sainted image you’ve created of who she would have been if she’d lived.”
“That metaphor doesn’t even make any sense.”
“I know!” Ally fisted her hands against her scalp. “I just…I’m in love with you, Ben.”
The words hit him like an arctic blast, flash-freezing something deep inside him with terror. But she wasn’t done.
She dropped her hands, palms open. “I am so unbelievably crazy about you—and about Astrid. I want this. For years I told myself I didn’t know what I wanted, because I was afraid I would never get it. That sense of home. Feeling like I fit somewhere, like I belong with someone. I want that with you—but what do you want? Not what you think is best for Astrid, or what you think you have to do, or ought to want—what do you want?”
Frustration flashed through him at the impossible question. “I don’t know! It doesn’t matter!”
“Yes, it does! Because I am done being in relationships just because I’m scared of being alone. I won’t be your secret. You can’t just put me in one box and Astrid and the rest of your life in another. Hiding me behind curtains when I’m not convenient. I want someone who feels like he’s lucky to have me. I want in. I want in your life and I want you in mine. But if I can’t have that…I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Ally…”
“I’m sorry. I…I have to go.”
“Ally.” Ben put out a hand to stop her, but Ally was already weaving through the props backstage, rushing away from him, and he could only stand there helpless and watch her walk away. He couldn’t chase her. Someone would see. Astrid might see. He was lucky they hadn’t already been spotted.
What she wanted…
She was being unreasonable. Asking something of him he couldn’t give.
She made it sound like it was a choice, but he had to think of Astrid. He had to protect her. And if protecting her from a broken heart meant protecting his own, that was just the way it was. The entire path of his life had changed two years ago, and there was no changing it back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ally rushed toward the exit, a nauseating cocktail of frustration and mortification burning a hole in her stomach lining. She’d put it all on the line. Everything she’d felt had spilled out of her, and his face had looked like it was carved from stone as he stared down at her, growing more and more distant and closed off.
A group of townspeople was doing some kind of dance number on the stage as she found a short set of stairs leading down to a red exit sign. Thank God Astrid didn’t see her.
Ally burst out into the theater’s tiny parking lot, the sunlight reflecting off snow in a blinding glare and stopping her in her tracks. Somehow in the dark recesses of the theater she’d forgotten it was still daylight.
“Ally, hey!” A few feet away, Deenie held Partridge’s leash while he froze, mid-squat.
Partridge, who adored Ben just as hopelessly as she did. And now she was comparing her unrequited feelings to a dog who was ninety percent drool. Wonderful.
“What’s up?” Deenie asked, when Partridge was done doing his business, walking him back toward the door. “Do they need us back inside?”
“I told him how I feel about him.”
“Ben?” A grin split across Deenie’s face. “About time! I was starting to think we were going to have to get you guys a how-to manual so you’d know what to do.” Then she seemed to notice that Ally wasn’t returning her smile. Deenie’s shiny expression sagged. “Oh no…”
Ally pressed her lips together, unbelievably grateful she didn’t have to explain. “I have to get out of here for a minute. Do you mind looking after the dogs—”
“Do you want me to bring them back to the shelter when they’re done?” Deenie asked, going above and beyond.
“I can’t ask to spend your entire afternoon—”
“Are you kidding? I’d be here anyway. Have you seen the makeup department? So much glitter.”
“Thank you,” Ally whispered, catching Deenie’s hand. Deenie opened her mouth as if she would say more, but the door opened behind Ally and someone called out that they were ready for Partridge. Deenie squeezed her hand. As she dropped it, a bright smile fell into place over her concern, and she and Partridge charged inside.
Ally moved quickly across the microscopic parking area—only to find her car completely blocked in. Because of course it was. The theater was on the absolute opposite side of town from the shelter, but it was a gorgeous December afternoon, and Ally barely felt the cold. Frustration and disappointment fueled her steps, and she found herself moving faster and faster, the ground disappearing beneath her feet.
Everyone had warned her that Ben never let people in. That he was more Scrooge than George Bailey. She’d known, but she’d been so sure he would be different for her. God, what a horrible romantic cliché.
All this time she’d been wrong. All those moments when she’d thought they were speaking the same language, he’d been mentally buying her train ticket back to New York, keeping her at a safe distance.
Ally knew she was spiraling, her thoughts spinning further and further away from logic, but she couldn’t seem to stop reliving that moment when he’d shoved her away from him and hid her from Astrid. Not that she’d wanted to be caught making out with Astrid’s uncle beneath a fake lamppost, but he could have at least held her hand. Was that so much to ask for? A man who wanted to hold her hand?
Aggravation made the twenty-five-minute walk feel like a matter of seconds. She strode up her grandparents’ driveway, heading straight for the farmhouse. There were no dogs left in the kennels anyway.
Up the porch steps and in through the front door without breaking stride, Ally stripped off her winter gear with quick, impatient movements as her grandmother looked up from the present she’d been wrapping at the breakfast table and her grandfather snorted, coming awake in his recliner.
“Back already?” Gram asked. “That pageant committee must have finally listened to all the complaints about the eight-hour rehearsals.”
“The rehearsal’s still going. I left the dogs with Deenie.” And the car. She’d left the car too. She’d have to go back for it. And the dogs. God, what had she been thinking? But then, she
hadn’t been. She’d just needed to escape.
“Did something happen?” her grandfather asked.
Had something happened? I told Ben I loved him. I kissed him. He hid me behind a curtain. God, had she actually told him she loved him? The words all blurred together in her mind. She hadn’t actually said that, had she? Reality seemed to be tightening its grip on her and suddenly the full impact of the last hour was setting in.
“I…” What had happened? “I had a fight with Ben.”
“Oh no.” Gram put down the scissors, coming around the table. “What happened?”
“I told him I was invited to interview for a job in New York—my dream job—but I didn’t want to do it because my dreams had changed. I want to stay here. Run the shelter with you guys. Maybe add some pet photography services or training classes so Furry Friends becomes a hub for all things canine in Pine Hollow. But Ben just wanted me to go back to New York.”
“Oh dear.” Her grandparents exchanged an unreadable look. “Maybe you should consider taking the interview.”
Ally went still with one hand still resting on the coat she’d been hanging up. “What? Why…” Realization landed like a stone on her chest. “You’re waiting for me to leave, too?”
“No, honey, of course not. Not waiting. We’re so happy you’re here.”
But they exchanged a look, and suddenly Ally had a feeling she was missing a giant piece right at the center of the puzzle. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Gramps sat up, shoving down the footrest of the recliner. “We want you to stay with us just as long as you need to in order to get back on your feet.”
The Johnsons had said her grandparents would be moving out to the Estates in the new year. She’d been so sure the older couple was confused. Her grandmother had said time and again that she would sooner die than move to an old folks’ home. The Johnsons had it wrong. They’d misinterpreted the fact that her grandparents were out at the Estates visiting their friends all the time. They practically lived out there.
They practically lived out there.
“You’re moving out to the Estates, aren’t you?”
They exchanged another look. Copper scrambled out of the way as Gramps rose from the recliner, one hand resting on the back. “We did put down a deposit on one of the places out there, but that was before you said you were coming up here.”
Ally turned to her grandmother in shock. “You said you never wanted to live someplace like that. When the Kennedys first moved up there, you said they’d have to take you straight from this house to the cemetery. That you’d rather die than live someplace where they cut your food for you.”
“Well, you know they don’t actually cut your food—it’s really a nice place. I had no idea how many amenities—and your grandfather loves the poker tournaments. All his friends from the Elks are up there now.”
“You were going to sell this place?”
“Well, we wanted to have a bit of work done after we moved out. Darleen, who runs the real estate office, said we’d get a better price if we updated some, but we didn’t want to do any big renovations while we were still living here. Lilian suggested we should try to get on one of those Property Brothers shows. Have them pretty it up for us.”
Lilian. Darleen. The Johnsons. Everyone had known. Everyone but her.
Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “That’s why they cut our funding. They knew you were planning to sell the shelter anyway. The whole town knew—”
“Well, not the whole town,” Gramps argued. “We only told a handful of people.”
And word had spread. The way it always did in Pine Hollow. She was the one who’d been out of the loop. Because she didn’t really belong here. She was a tourist. An outsider.
“When are you moving?”
“See, that’s the thing,” Gram said eagerly. “They’ll hold our spot for us for as long as we want, so you can take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We don’t want you feeling rushed at all. We love having you here, Ally.”
But they’d never realized she wanted to stay. “I thought…you never said anything about me going back to New York.”
“Well, of course not. We didn’t want you to think we didn’t want you here or that we were pressuring you to go back before you were ready. We assumed you’d make the decision when it was right for you. Maybe after Christmas.”
Ally stared at her grandmother.
The entire time she’d thought she was helping her grandparents, they’d been waiting for her to leave so they could get on with their lives. She’d thought they needed her.
“I have to…I need to think.” She reached for her coat again, shoving her feet back into her boots.
“Ally?” Worry warbled in Gram’s voice.
“It’s all right,” Ally assured her—though no words had ever felt further from the truth. It felt like everything was falling apart. Everything she’d been so certain was falling into place.
Suddenly all signs were pointing away from Pine Hollow.
This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t where she belonged. It was her grandparents’ place, and she was just a parasite on their lives. The connections she’d built in the community were gossamer thin—and only because of Gram and Gramps and Ben and the shelter. But if the shelter was closing, if all the dogs were gone, would Deenie even come by? Her grandparents were selling their house. Where would she even live?
“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her scarf and hat. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“Ally…” Her grandfather spoke her name, and Colby lifted his head curiously, but she was already moving back out into the icy December afternoon.
She’d come here to escape her isolation, but now she felt more alone than ever. Before, at least she’d had the dream—the vision of the front porch in that distant future, but now even that felt like it was out of reach. Like she’d always been fooling herself to think she would get it. And it was time to face reality.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ben wasn’t in the holiday mood. He emerged from backstage to give the pageant committee the go-ahead to try the lights again. When the stage brightened like the sun, a cheer went up from the entire group, but Ben couldn’t even crack a smile. He scanned the house of the theater instead, looking for Astrid, wondering how quickly they could get out of here.
He didn’t see Astrid, but Partridge did spot him. The bulldog immediately started trying to drag Deenie up the aisle to get to Ben, his low, bulky body straining against his harness. Deenie gave Ben a long look, not smiling for perhaps the first time in recorded history.
She knew.
Shame tried to rise up, though he’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t led Ally on. He’d told her from the beginning that Astrid was his priority. He was doing the right thing, damn it.
Which didn’t explain why he felt like the lowest kind of amoeba when Deenie turned and muttered, “Come on, Partridge.” The bulldog whined, but reluctantly let himself be guided away.
“Where’s Ally?”
“Astrid! Jeez!” Ben put a hand to his chest, turning to where his niece had snuck up on him in stealth mode. She stood at his side, cuddling the teacup-sized Peanut against her chest.
“Aunt Elinor says you jump like that because you’re wound too tight, and if you relaxed a little more you wouldn’t be so startled all the time.”
“That’s very helpful of Aunt Elinor,” Ben grumped.
“Have you seen Ally?” Astrid repeated. “Everyone thought she was looking for you, but no one has seen her.”
“I don’t know where she is.” He carefully avoided mentioning that he had seen her. And kissed her. And hid her behind a curtain so Astrid wouldn’t see her. “Maybe she left.”
“Without the dogs?” Astrid gave him a baffled look.
“I’m sure she’ll be back for the dogs.”
Astrid studied him, her ten-year-old eyes seeing far more than he would like them to. “You should have kisse
d her under the mistletoe when you had the chance.”
Ben nearly choked on his tongue. “Excuse me?”
“The mistletoe? In the gazebo?” Astrid explained patiently. “I thought if you would just kiss Ally maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed all the time. And we could get a dog. That’s why Kimber and I set it up.”
Ben gaped at his niece. He’d thought she was hoping for him to fall for Ally—it hadn’t occurred to him she was actively scheming to throw them together. “Were you really trying to match me up with Ally so you can have a dog?”
“No. Mostly I’ve been trying to get you together with Ally because I like her. And you don’t seem happy.”
The words hit him in the gut. “Astrid. I’m happy. I love you, and I’m very happy.”
“You have been since we met Ally,” she pointed out. “Before that Kimber didn’t want to come to our house because you were grumpy all the time. I told her you weren’t really mad, that that was just, like, how you are sometimes, but she was scared of you.”
Jesus. He’d thought Elinor was exaggerating when she told him he was frightening children, but Astrid’s best friend had been afraid to come to their house. “I’m sorry, Astrid. I’ll do better.”
“You do great, Uncle Ben.” She reached out to pat him on the arm like one of the residents at the Estates might. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. I swear, kiddo, I’m happy.”
“But you haven’t seen Ally?”
There it was, that shame crawling up the back of his neck again. “Not in the last few minutes.”
Astrid nodded and headed off, apparently in search of the shelter owner. Ben scanned the theater, looking for her as well. He didn’t know what he would say to her, but he needed to see her—if only to convince himself that she wasn’t still upset, that she would forgive him for that stupid moment backstage.
“Benjamin West.”
Speaking of awkward moments. Ben silently groaned as he recognized that voice, turning to face the woman he’d once thought he was going to marry. “Isabelle. Merry Christmas.”