“Of course we can.”
Molly directed a disinterested glance out the window, then picked at the snowflake design on her new wool mittens. “Can’t have a sleigh. No snow.”
Hannah laughed. “You’re right about that. When there isn’t any snow, they bring a pretty carriage with a fringed roof and big wooden wheels with red and white spokes. If the weather forecast holds, we might have enough for a real sleigh for tomorrow.”
Her cell phone chirped and she grabbed it out of her purse. Her happy mood vanished. Ethan. She hesitated then took the call with a resigned sigh. “Yes?”
“You mentioned going into town today. Can I treat you all to lunch somewhere?”
She glanced at her watch. She’d gone through the children’s clothing boxes this morning to check on what they needed for the colder climate and then she’d taken the kids shopping. After an hour at the Children’s Shoppe, both of them now had extra sweatshirts and warm pullover sweaters, goose-down jackets and snow pants in their favorite colors, with mittens to match.
But she still needed to buy them snow boots and sleds, and take them down to the town square. If there was enough time, they could also drop in on Keeley’s antiques store for cookies.
And—admittedly—stop somewhere for lunch. “I...guess so. In an hour?”
“Perfect. Do you have a favorite place?”
Despite her resolutions regarding Ethan, the deep timbre of his voice still sent an unwanted tingle of awareness shivering over her skin.
“I think the kids would like the Creek Malt Shop. It’s fairly new, but has 1950s décor, and they make malts with scoops of real ice cream. Their burgers are the best in town and they have old-fashioned pinball machines in the back—no charge.” She glanced at the kids. “What do you two think—sound good?”
When they nodded, she returned to the call. “The Malt Shop faces the town square. We were heading down there to see the holiday decorations after we finish shopping, anyway. We’ll be there in an hour.”
She ended the call and sighed. They would show up to meet him, but she doubted she could eat a single bite. Her stomach was already tying itself into a tight knot.
She’d stayed awake until two in the morning, worrying about what the future would bring with Ethan in the mix. Praying that he might see the flaws in his plan and just give up and go back to Dallas.
But, nope—he was still here. And he was already finding ways to keep in touch.
Which proved that she’d better plan to keep on her toes.
* * *
Ethan idly ran a fingertip through the condensation on his malt glass and settled back in the booth. He glanced at his watch once more.
The hesitance in Hannah’s voice had been unmistakable over the phone. Would she even show up?
His booth was right in front of a plateglass window looking out over the street and, beyond that, the town square where clusters of folks were busy winding strands of Christmas lights on the dozen pine trees scattered throughout the little park.
A larger team was tackling the towering blue spruce in the center, utilizing a cherry picker to reach the very top.
Though it was only the Saturday after Thanksgiving Day, Christmas music already blared from loudspeakers in the square, and even through the window, he could hear the banter and laughter from the crowd as they worked.
Christmas seemed to be everywhere.
Even in this hamburger joint, there had to be a dozen tabletop-sizes Christmas trees with twinkly lights perched on shelves, counters and in the corners. Wreaths and Christmas stockings hung on the walls. Over each booth and table a sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling on a bright red ribbon.
It was as if Christmas had exploded in here, and it made him edgy. Bah humbug.
He caught sight of Hannah—her shimmering, pale blond hair unmistakable, even from a distance—weaving through the crowd across the street, where she was making slow progress by chatting to every person she met. Cole walked at her side, wearing a puffy, bright red jacket. Molly, in a similar hot-pink jacket, followed a few yards behind with a sullen expression.
They finally made their way across the street and he saw Hannah square her shoulders and take a deep breath before ushering the kids inside the Malt Shop. From her grim expression she didn’t seem at all happy to be there.
In a moment they arrived at his booth. Molly and Hannah slid in opposite him and Cole scrambled next to Ethan. The faint, familiar scent of Hannah’s perfume wafted in the air, reminding him of the past they’d shared. One he needed to forget.
“Sorry if we’re a bit late,” Hannah murmured as she grabbed menus from the rack behind the napkin dispenser and dealt them out.
“I got a new coat and mittens and boots,” Cole announced. “And other stuff, ’cause it’s cold here.”
Molly rolled her eyes and dropped her gaze to her menu.
“Looks like you got a new coat, as well,” Ethan said to her. “Have you found your sleds yet?”
She shook her head.
“We never had sleds before,” Cole announced. “’Cause we didn’t get enough snow. But Aunt Hannah says we’ll get lots tonight. Five whole inches!”
“The most I ever saw in Dallas was a few flurries.” Ethan shifted his gaze to Hannah. “So I’ve never gone shopping for sleds, either. Can I come along?”
She gave him a stiff smile. “Of course. The hardware store is a couple of blocks over and it usually has a good supply.”
Cole’s eyes lit up. “Maybe you can both get a sled, too, and then we can all go. Aunt Hannah says she’ll bring hot cocoa and marshmallows and cookies. So we have lots of energy.”
Ethan chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll run out of that anytime soon.”
“But you’ll come sledding, right? And for the carriage ride tonight?”
“Well...” He angled another glance up at Hannah. “Is that all right with you?”
The corner of her eye twitched but she nodded. “Aspen Creek Park is just a mile north of town and there are good sliding hills near the campground. The snowplows don’t usually clear the country roads before the afternoon on Sundays, though. So...” She considered for a moment. “Maybe two o’clock tomorrow?”
“Deal.”
“And the carriage ride, too?” Cole insisted.
A waitress in a red-striped uniform appeared at the table with a tray of water glasses and a smile. “As you can see, we’re kinda busy, so just wave to me when you’re ready to order.”
“I want a cheeseburger and a chocolate malt, with French fries,” Cole announced instantly.
“Same,” Molly muttered.
“That didn’t take long. Hot-fudge shake and a grilled chicken sandwich for me,” Hannah said without looking at her menu. “Ethan?”
“Cheeseburger and fries. I’ve already got my malt.”
Molly eyed the colorful flashing lights on the pinball machines at the back and gave the waitress a pleading look. “Can we play?”
“Sure. Nice change from all those computer games, if you ask me. Unless someone else comes in and wants a turn, you can play as long as you like.” The waitress grinned. “At least, until your food comes. I’m sure your parents can keep an eye on you from right here.”
Hannah’s gaze flew to Molly—expecting a meltdown over the waitress’s assumption. But the kids launched out of the booth and made a beeline for the bank of pinball machines without a backward glance.
“Whew,” she whispered, her hands clenched on the tabletop. “That was close. I’m finding casual conversations can be quite a minefield with people who aren’t yet aware of our circumstances. I’m sure the word is spreading, but still...”
It would probably be the same in Texas, Ethan realized, though he couldn’t help but think it would be easier if the
kids were at least on their home turf. And come to think of it, there would be a few people who could make assumptions. He didn’t know people there anymore except Cynthia and his dad. He’d been gone all of his adult life.
“I know this will be a hard Christmas for the kids, with their parents gone. It’s going to bring back so many memories of the happier times.” Hannah twisted in her seat for a better view of the pinball machines. “But Christmas is my favorite time of year, and I’m excited about sharing the whole Aspen Creek holiday experience with them. I hope they’ll have some good times, anyway. Maybe make some new memories. This town is amazing from now until the last day of December.”
“What makes it so special?”
“A quaint little tourist town like Aspen Creek really celebrates. Lighted wreaths on all of the old-fashioned lampposts, twinkling lights everywhere, and the festivities go on and on. Carolers. Games. A skating rink in the town square. A lighting ceremony there this evening. We draw large crowds of weekend shoppers from the Twin Cities and Chicago because of it. I love the horse-drawn sleigh rides in town on weekend evenings, and our Christmas Eve candlelight service at the Aspen Creek Community Church is always beyond beautiful. I just hope the kids will enjoy it all.”
She’d come into the café looking tense, but now her eyes sparkled and she gave him her first real smile. The sheer strength of it sent a jolt straight to his chest. “I suppose they will.”
“Sorry.” She gave a quick, self-conscious laugh. “You look a little stunned, but when I get started on Christmas in Aspen Creek, I start to babble. My friends tease me about being one of Santa’s elves.”
Hearing her love of Christmas touched a hollow place in his heart. Made him wish he could attend every event and try to absorb some of the joy she radiated, and awaken in himself some measure of Christmas spirit.
But Christmas stirred no happy memories. It was fraught with a lifetime of disappointment—failed wishes and lost dreams. It was something to get past, to forget. There’d been no Norman Rockwell holidays in his childhood and none later, either.
And, right now, all of these local festivities carried a great deal of risk to his plans. Would the kids become so enthralled by Hannah’s joy and this fairy tale of a town that they wouldn’t want to move back to Dallas with him?
He listened to the bells and chimes of the antique pinball machines at the back of the café and watched the kids’ rapt attention as the pretty lights flashed.
And once again he kicked himself for not getting back to Dallas sooner. No matter what his doctors and therapists had said, he should’ve toughed it out on his own without those last months of therapy.
Then he would have been home before Cynthia’s injury and could’ve picked up Molly and Cole before Hannah whisked them off to Wisconsin.
Where there were puppies and ponies and dazzling Christmas events that might make them want to stay with her for good.
Chapter Five
Hannah looped an arm around Molly’s and Cole’s shoulders and gathered them close for a hug as more people arrived in the town square for the lighting ceremony.
Darkness had fallen while she was doing the animal chores back home and now light snow was drifting downward in gentle swirls to frost the pine trees and sparkle on the children’s stocking caps and jackets.
With no wind and the temp hovering just below freezing, it would be relatively comfortable out here for the hour-long program, but maybe her little Texans weren’t accustomed enough to the cold. “Be sure to tell me if you’re getting chilly, okay? We can go home whenever you want.”
“I want a sleigh ride for sure.” Cole tipped his head back to catch snowflakes on his tongue, and even Molly joined in.
“The church is selling hot chocolate and Christmas cookies, so if you—”
“Yes!” Cole exclaimed, tugging on the hem of her yellow ski jacket. “Please?”
Nodding to people she knew from church or the clinic, Hannah led the kids to the food stand at the other side of the square. Painted white with green vertical stripes, its red canvas roof was strung with icicle lights.
Inside, Beth Stone and Olivia Lawson, two of Hannah’s friends from the local book club, were dressed in Mrs. Santa caps and white wigs. Over their winter coats they wore aprons adorned with jingle bells and giant neck-to-knee Christmas trees bedecked with flashing lights.
Both of them beamed when Hannah finally reached the head of the line. Cole looked up at their outfits in confusion. “There are two Mrs. Santas?”
“We’re just her helpers for today,” Olivia assured him with a kindly smile. “She’s very busy this time of year.”
“Keeley told us about you two,” Beth said with a warm smile as she handed Molly and Cole gingerbread men and hot chocolate topped with pastel marshmallows. “We’re both so happy to meet you!”
“Thanks,” Molly mumbled. Cole shyly nodded.
“Love those aprons,” Hannah teased as she handed over a ten dollar bill. “They’re just so understated.”
Beth laughed. “We’re good until the AA batteries wear down. If you really like them, I stocked some extras in the gift area of my bookstore.”
Olivia, an elegant and slender woman of seventy, craned her neck to search the nearby crowd. “So where’s this Texas cowboy of yours? Keeley tells me he’s quite a hunk.”
“A what?” The term was so unexpected from a sophisticated, reserved woman like Olivia that Hannah sputtered on her first sip of cocoa, laughing.
And just then she felt the back of her neck start to burn and knew that, without a doubt, the hunk had to be standing right behind her. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks with heat.
“Hey, kids. Hannah.” His voice rumbled against her ear.
Mortified, she froze for a moment. Had it sounded like she was laughing at him?
Cole turned around and, bless his heart, broke the awkward silence. “We dint know you’re a cowboy, Uncle Ethan,” he breathed in awe. “That’s even better than a soldier ’cause you get to have horses and a gun.”
“He’s not a cowboy, stupid,” Molly said, elbowing him and sending his cup of hot cocoa sloshing dangerously. But then she looked up at Ethan and frowned. “Are you?”
“Nope. Your aunt Hannah is closer to that than I am. She’s got the horse.”
Surprised at his gracious reply, Hannah felt even more awkward about her inadvertent insult.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Penelope isn’t any bigger than I am.”
He lifted a shoulder and smiled at her. “Maybe the next one will be taller. But if you want to see something big, wait until you see the team headed this way.”
“Where? Can we go now?” Cole spun around, trying to peer through the crowd milling in the square. This time his hot chocolate spilled over his mitten and onto his new snow boots.
Panic flooded into his face and he jerked back, his lower lip trembling. “Sorry. I’m really sorry, Hannah.”
The ramifications of his fearful reaction sent a chill through Hannah. She met Ethan’s gaze and frowned, then bent to Cole’s level. “It’s only a cup of cocoa, sweetie. No big deal. I’ll get you a refill.”
He stared helplessly at her, like a rabbit caught in a trap, his eyes sheened with unshed tears.
“Really, it’s not a problem, kiddo,” she said with a smile. She gave him a hug. “And we will go see the horses when they start giving rides after the program. Promise.”
Keeley silently telegraphed unspoken concern as she leaned over the counter to hand Hannah a new cup of cocoa. Hannah shook her head slowly in return before shepherding the children toward the benches set up in the middle of the square.
The thought of a sweet little six-year-old boy fearing punishment made her heart clench.
Someone had been severe with the poor little guy. His father? A former
babysitter? Cynthia? None of them would be in his life again, but this was yet one more subject to bring up gently with him when the time was right.
She sat on a bench toward the back of the crowd with Molly and Cole on either side of her. Ethan sat next to Cole and draped an arm over his thin shoulders.
“Hey, buddy, I hear there’s going to be lots of snow for sledding tomorrow. Are you excited about using your new sled?”
Cole nodded, his head bowed.
“I wonder which one will be the fastest,” Ethan mused. “I’ve never had a sled before, so this will be really fun.”
Cole gave him a sideways glance. “Never?”
“Nope. And I’ve never ice-skated, either. I noticed an ice rink on the other side of the square, so maybe that’s something we could all do, too.”
“Molly and me don’t have skates.”
“I’ll bet we can work something out. When we were at the hardware store for the sleds, I noticed that they have a used skate exchange. Good idea for kids who are always growing, right?” He leaned forward to catch Molly’s eye. “What about you? I can see you now—spinning on your skates like a ballerina. Would you like that?”
Molly shrugged and plopped back in her seat, though maybe there’d been the faintest glimmer of interest in her eyes.
The mayor stood at the podium, tapped the microphone and wished everyone a happy Christmas season, then stepped aside. A dozen carolers wearing Santa hats took his place and began singing Christmas carols and hymns, encouraging everyone to sing along.
The beauty of this night, with snowflakes falling and her sister’s two children at her side, filled Hannah with love and gratitude. When Cole reached over to hold her hand, she felt overwhelmed by her many blessings.
She lifted her eyes skyward. Dee, I promise that your children will be safe and loved, and I’ll do everything in my power to raise them as you wanted to.
As the sweet strains of “Silent Night” drifted off into the night, the mayor stepped back up to the podium and shouted, “Merry Christmas!”
An Aspen Creek Christmas (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 4) Page 5