Christmas In Rose Bend

by Naima Simone

  “Here.” Eva stopped flipping and pointed at a picture.

  Curious, Wolf rose and circled the back of the couch. He stared down at a color picture that, judging from the people’s feathered bangs and big shoulder pads, had to have been taken sometime in the eighties. The setting—a huge fireplace set into a stone wall with floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of it—seemed familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place it.

  He did recognize a younger Eva and her husband, Joe, among the small group of people who smiled into the camera with their arms circled around each other’s waists.

  “That’s Martha Summers and her husband, Roy.” Eva tapped the image of the statuesque, beautiful Black woman with long hair and the tall man next to her who could’ve been a double for the actor Telly Savalas. “They used to own what’s now Little Bird Ski Lodge.”

  “That’s why it looks familiar,” Wolf said.

  Eva nodded. “Yes. The ski lodge used to be their chalet and vacation home here before Garrett Adams bought it. Anyway, Joe and I were friends of friends of the Summerses.” She smiled wryly. “I ran a day care for almost thirty-five years and Joe, when he retired, was the principal of the local high school. We didn’t run in the same circles as the Summerses. Roy was a Wall Street wizard from New York and Martha a socialite. Still, they were nice, down-to-earth people. Well, as down-to-earth as millionaires can be.” She chuckled. “Anyway, they vacationed in Rose Bend for the week of and after Christmas and for a couple of months in the summer.”

  “So you knew them well?” Nessa pressed, her gaze glued to the picture of the people who could potentially be her relatives.

  Eva shrugged a shoulder. “Pretty well. I mean, we were cordial when they were in town. But definitely close enough that I can tell you they didn’t have a son. Two daughters, yes, but not a son.”

  Disappointment speared him, and a glance at Nessa revealed the same distress. Her eyes closed, and the spasm that flickered across her face relayed just how much hope she’d held that they’d obtain information about her biological father.

  “But like I said,” Eva continued, “we were friendly when they were in town on vacation. I didn’t know all the details of their life, including extended family. Maybe they had a nephew named Paul that visited with them, and he met your mother here. It’s possible.”

  Wolf slid a hand over Nessa’s shoulder and cupped the nape of her neck, rubbing his thumb back and forth. A surge of protectiveness swelled within him when she leaned back into his hold. That show of trust shouldn’t send satisfaction and lust bolting through him.

  Shouldn’t.

  But fuck if it didn’t.

  “Are you still in contact with them, Ms. Eva?” he asked. “Is there any way to get in touch with them and find out for sure?”

  The older woman tapped her bottom lip. “Actually, they did return here for Joe’s funeral and sent a card. I saved everything. I could definitely try.” She closed the photo album and patted Nessa’s knee. “I have you, Nessa.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Eva. I appreciate any help you can give me.”

  “Of course. I’m glad to help.” Eva smiled, her eyes soft. “And call me old-fashioned or a silly old woman, but I believe Christmas is a time for miracles. And who knows, Nessa Hunt? Maybe there’s one for you. Or...” She picked up the photo album and set it on the coffee table with a smirk. “I’m just nosy as hell and can’t resist a mystery. Either way, we’re going to try and find you answers.”

  Nessa laughed. “You know what? I’m a little bit closer to believing it.”

  Minutes later, Wolf kissed Eva on the cheek and Nessa waved goodbye to her as they stepped out onto the porch. She didn’t speak as they climbed into his truck and he started the engine. He didn’t immediately shift the gear into Drive, but instead gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared out his windshield.

  “Did I make a mistake bringing you here?” he murmured.

  He felt her gaze on him. And normally, he wouldn’t have a problem meeting those espresso eyes, but not at this moment. Not while he feared he’d caused more harm with this visit than good.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Hope can be a dangerous thing, can’t it? Sweet and beautiful one moment, cruel and ugly the next.” He should know. He’d been on the receiving end of both. And the thought of taking her to that high and low tonight had nerves and regret curdling in his stomach. “I saw the disappointment on your face. And I’m sorry if this brought you pain instead of hope, Nessa.”

  He’d almost spoken with Eva on his own, to prevent this very thing from happening. But as he’d told Nessa earlier, it hadn’t been his right to share her story. But this need to protect her—her and Ivy—to make things okay for her...

  He’d failed with Raylon. He’d failed with Olivia.

  Though Nessa would only be in Rose Bend for a few more weeks, he didn’t want to fail her.

  And tonight, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he had.

  “Wolf.” A hand settled on his thigh, and warmth flared beneath the small weight. Before he could control his reaction, the muscle beneath her palm locked tight, and a sweet flare flamed, brief and bright. “I didn’t get a chance to say it yet, but thank you. I appreciate what you did here tonight. I’m not used to asking for help—to accepting help. But not being alone in this...journey, I guess I can call it...is a relief. It’s not as overwhelming, and I have you to thank. So...thank you.”

  The knots inside him slowly unraveled, and he exhaled. His grip on the steering wheel loosened.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He shifted his gaze from the windshield, finally looking at her. Looking into those beautiful eyes that he knew would follow him into his sleep tonight. The heat from her palm damn near seared a hole through his jeans and branded his skin. That, too, he wouldn’t be able to escape.

  Exhaling a deliberate low breath, he shifted the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb. Silence thickened between them, humming with a tension that had him aware of every breath that escaped her. Every shift of her body in the seat. Every drum of her fingers on her leg.

  How it soothed and had him so on edge any sudden movement might crack him right down the middle, he couldn’t explain. Just...no sudden movements.

  “I’d forgotten this,” Nessa said.

  He glanced at her, but she stared out the window, offering him a view of the dark waves that tumbled over her shoulder.

  “Forgotten what?”

  “This.”

  She waved a hand toward the window and the scenery beyond just as he slowed to a halt at a stop sign. He took in the scenery outside the glass. At the array of houses lit up with lights and decorations.

  “Like at the Christmas tree decorating contest. Memories I haven’t allowed myself to think of are returning,” Nessa continued in a soft voice as if she were lost in one of those memories at the moment. “Like, how at Christmas, my mom and Isaac would bundle me up in the car and we’d go riding through neighborhoods just looking at all the lights on houses. To me, it was like a winter fairyland. And even after Isaac left, she still did it until...” She trailed off. When she spoke again, her voice had lowered even further. “Until I told her I didn’t want to anymore, that I was too old for it. The truth was, it reminded me too much of Isaac. Of what I’d lost when he left. I think that’s when Christmas became something to tolerate or avoid instead of a holiday to celebrate for me. But this—” she dipped her head “—this reminds me of how it used to be. Of how...magical it could be.”

  This woman.

  Wolf swallowed hard, and unable not to touch her, he slid a hand underneath her hair and cupped the nape of her neck. He eased off the brake and drove forward, his thumb lightly stroking the tender skin beneath her hairline.

  “What? No words of wisdom, O wise one?” she asked a couple of minutes later.


  “‘Never scald your lips with another man’s porridge.’”

  Her head whipped around, nearly dislodging his hold on her.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “No clue. On the rare occasions my father gets in his cups, he becomes an Irish Tyrion Lannister. He drinks and knows stuff, but he doesn’t tell me what it means. I could Google it, but where would be the fun in that?”

  She snorted. “You say Tyrion Lannister like it’s supposed to mean something to me.”

  “What?” He gasped, abruptly releasing her to slap a hand over his heart. “Game of Thrones?” He shook his head and whispered mournfully, “Oh you sweet summer child.”

  “Okay, that’s it. Let me out at the next corner,” she muttered.

  Wolf laughed, and quickly taking his eyes off the road, he caught the hint of a smile on her mouth before she turned back to the window.

  “At the risk of you telling me to mind my own business, can I ask you a question?”

  Unease spiraled through him, but after a beat of hesitation, he squelched his immediate deflection. If he looked up Nessa in any thesaurus, one of the synonyms would be locked box. And for her to grant him access into her thoughts, into her world... No, only an asshole would deny her the same. And he might be guarded and gun-shy, but Moe hadn’t raised assholes.

  “If you don’t—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel as if it could anchor him. “Ask me.”

  He heard rather than saw her shift in her seat. Felt the weight of her gaze on him. “Are you still in love with Olivia?”

  His whole body jerked, his foot reflexively slamming on the brake.

  “Fuck,” he growled, shooting a look into his rearview mirror.

  Relief coursed through him. No cars behind him, thank God. Easing his foot off the pedal, he pressed the accelerator, his clutch on the steering wheel becoming a stranglehold. Jesus Christ, he didn’t want to talk about Olivia. Not with anyone. But especially not with Nessa.

  “Nessa,” he said.

  “Because she’s in love with you.”

  He ground his teeth together, trapping his derisive snort. Love? Olivia’s “love” had almost destroyed him. Damn if he’d allow her—or anyone—to have that kind of power again.

  “What we had is in the past.” Three years ago this Christmas to be exact. She’d ended them two days after.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Nessa pressed.

  He didn’t answer. Not immediately. He couldn’t as he turned onto the road that led to Kinsale Inn. No way in hell he could have this conversation and drive. But Nessa took his silence as refusal, and as soon as he parked alongside the building in one of the spaces designated for family, she unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle.

  “Forget it,” she said, voice tight. With anger. With hurt. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Nessa.” His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist. Light from the inn’s side windows reached into the truck’s interior, providing enough illumination for him to glimpse the taut line of her jaw. “Wait. I—” He slid his hold down until his palm pressed to hers. Until his fingers entwined with hers. “Give me a minute, okay?”

  Her hand fell away from the handle, and she shifted, settling back into the passenger seat. She didn’t look at him, though, her gaze fixed on their interlocked fingers. As if she couldn’t believe he held on to her so tightly.

  As if she couldn’t believe she held on to him, too.

  He should’ve extricated himself; he could relay this sad story without clutching her like she was his life raft in the raging waters of his past.

  But he didn’t.

  Because, fuck it, he needed this. Needed her. He could admit that, even if only to himself. Even if only for tonight.

  “To answer your question, no. I’m not in love with Olivia.” He studied her fingertips with their short nails and black polish. Slowly, he lifted his head, met her steady, unflinching gaze. “But I used to be. Ever been in love, Nessa?”

  She hesitated but nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

  The hot flare of jealousy caught him by surprise, but in the next instant, he extinguished it. He had no business, no right, feeling that. A woman as beautiful, as sexy, as successful as Nessa? Of course she would’ve had relationships. And that Wolf battled the urge to seek out this nameless and faceless man who’d owned her heart and slap him around was his issue not hers.

  “Well, then you know what it is to give your heart to someone, to plan a future with them, and then to lose it all.” Because you’re deemed not good enough. Or not enough. “That’s what happened between me and Olivia.”

  Nessa shook her head. “There’s more,” she insisted.

  “What was his name?” he shot back.

  The echo of their breaths filled the dense silence. He’d demanded she look at him several times since she’d arrived in Rose Bend. But now, with that incisive stare slicing into him, trying to dive into his memories, into the pain, into the man he longed to keep hidden, he wanted to beg her to glance away.

  “Jeremy.” She leaned forward until only inches and a bucket seat separated them. “And you’re deflecting. Tell me,” she whispered.

  “She broke me.”

  The admission tore from him without his permission, and as he stared at her, he prayed the horror that yawned wide inside of him didn’t reflect in his expression. He didn’t so much lean back from her as fall against his seat.

  Allowing someone to peer at the jagged pieces of his past—left him both hollow and filled with too many emotions to dissect.

  She’d asked him if he still loved Olivia. The simple answer was no. But there was nothing simple about why. Nothing straightforward about how he could never open himself to another person as he’d done with her. Never risk that kind of pain again. Never risk witnessing that kind of disappointment in another person’s eyes when he let them down.

  He’d seen it in Carol Brandt’s eyes when he returned home from Iraq without her son.

  He’d seen it in Raylon’s eyes for months, years, in his dreams.

  He’d seen it in Olivia’s eyes when he told her he couldn’t leave Rose Bend, his family and be that nine-to-five, suit-and-tie man she needed.

  His heart, his soul, couldn’t take seeing it again in another person’s eyes.

  An espresso gaze with long lashes in a warrior queen’s face flickered in his mind. All he had to do was glance to his right and take in that face.

  A surge of panic flared bright and hot in his chest, and he tugged at their still-clasped hands, but she tightened her grip, refusing to let go.

  “Jeremy was the first person I let in,” Nessa said, almost conversationally. But that tense hold on his hand, that taut set of her shoulders, the hurt swirling in her dark eyes... No, this cost her. And she was willing to pay the price. For him. “He wasn’t my first relationship, but he was the first man who I believed wouldn’t let me down. Jeremy made me hope that maybe, just maybe, I could have that happily-ever-after we all hear and dream about. Made me believe I might not be so damn easy to walk away from.”

  Wolf couldn’t speak, spikes of anger piercing him with every inhale. Nessa didn’t say his name, but she didn’t have to—Isaac. Isaac had been the first man to walk away from her, and this Jeremy had given her hope that her father, the man who was supposed to love her unconditionally, had been at fault. Not her.

  If Wolf had either man, or both, in front of him right now, he’d inflict damage for causing this beautiful, strong woman a second of insecurity and doubt.

  “He left me,” Nessa continued. “He claimed for a job on the other side of the country, but he didn’t go without telling me it was my fault we didn’t work out. Because he didn’t want to spend
his life trying to reach someone who would always keep him at an emotional distance. And he was right. Yes, I let him in more than any other man. But not all the way. Because Isaac crushed me. But Jeremy? He shattered what was left. So, Wolf, I understand about being broken.”

  “I lost myself when I fell in love with her,” he rasped, the confession propelled from him by the stark honesty of hers. “I’d just...come out of a dark space.” No, he couldn’t talk about Raylon yet. About losing him in that desert and returning home to face his mother’s devastation on top of his debilitating guilt. “Olivia had been three years behind me in school, so we hadn’t really been friendly. But falling in love with her was like finding myself again. Carpentry returned part of that to me, and she was the other half. Everything made sense, and I...”

  Was good enough.

  Saw a chance for redemption.

  Saw a chance to prove he wasn’t a failure.

  He clenched his jaw, not allowing those words to slip free. Only when he was certain they would remain locked down deep did he continue. He rubbed his free hand down his beard, narrowing his gaze on his windshield and the shadow of his workshop in the distance.

  “I gave her my everything, but in the end, it couldn’t keep her here. I didn’t know she’d been discontent with her life in Rose Bend. It’d become too small for her, too stifling. She’d applied for jobs in Boston, and when she received an offer, she accepted without telling me.”

  Over time, the sting of that betrayal had lessened, but as he spoke of it, the echo of his helplessness scraped over him.

  “Yes, she invited me to come with her, but not as a carpenter. Olivia didn’t want that for me, for herself. Her vision of the future included a life in a bigger city, with access to more opportunities and entertainment than Rose Bend could offer. A husband who wore a suit and tie to the office and could provide a showpiece of a house or a high-rise condominium with a view of the city skyline. In other words, everything I couldn’t give her and everything I wasn’t. She chose the new job and life over me, and there was nothing I could do to keep her here.”