The Christmas Key To Her Heart (McCormick's Creek Series Book 5)
Page 7
Nora led the way up the steps, glad she had salted them in the morning.
“So then I stopped by to see that young fireman recovering in the nursing home—”
“Brandt? You don’t even know him!”
“You ever going to let me finish a sentence?” Forrest grinned, sending a burst of sunshine into her soul. “I’ve been to see him a few times. At the beginning, just to support a first-responder. But he’s a great guy.”
Something else to show Nora a piece of Forrest’s heart, which couldn’t help but warm her own. “How is he?”
“He’s fine, says thank you for the chocolate pie. When did you have time to bake extra pies?”
Nora shrugged and opened the door. “I’m anxious, I bake. I’m stressed, I bake. I need to think, I bake. And I certainly can’t eat it all!”
Forrest closed the door behind them, then took her by the hand and pulled her under the mistletoe.
Nora thought she might melt, the way his eyes softened when he looked into hers. He stroked a finger down her face, then lifted her chin and kissed her gently.
The world fell away as she kissed him back. Softly, their breath intermingling. Intensely, fulfilling the yearning deep inside. She might not know if they had a future, but she certainly enjoyed kissing him.
He pulled back and touched his forehead to hers, holding the contact for a moment. “You are a remarkable woman, Nora Cooper, and you don’t even know it. I have something for you.”
“For me?” She pulled back so she could see him.
“Who else?” He gave her a quick peck and went out to his car. When he returned, he was carrying a large, fairly flat, unwrapped box.
“What in the world?” Nora had nothing left in her imagination.
Forrest set it on the dining room table and stepped back. “Maybe this will relieve your need to bake out your anxieties.”
Nora just looked at him for a moment. “O-kay,” she finally said, stepping forward. The box wasn’t taped or anything, so she just lifted the lid off.
White tissue paper.
She set the lid down, moved the tissue aside, and blanched.
Bronze fabric shimmered in the light, and she lifted it out far enough to verify that it was the dress she’d been pining over. She laid it back down, hands shaking.
This was a far cry from the flowers he’d brought her last week. Why couldn’t he have kept things at that level? He was a generous man, but why did he have to do something like this so soon? Or at all? She wished she could have time to feel solid in a new relationship before she had to make a commitment.
Or maybe he wasn’t just being overly generous. Thoughts of Bert the Jerk came back, and Nora began to fume. Forrest had wanted her to go on a cruise with him. He’d accepted her answer on the surface, but this could be just another strategy.
“What?” Forrest said, picking the gown up and letting it hang to its full length. He held it against her. “You wanted it, and you’ve certainly been working hard enough to deserve it.”
Nora stepped back. “Yes, I work hard, and I might have been dreaming about it the way a kid dreams about being Cinderella, but I didn’t want it. I wouldn’t have bought it. And I can’t accept it from you.”
He lowered the dress. “But why not? It will look beautiful on you!”
“Why not?” Her voice was rising with every breath. “Because it’s not some little trinket for a getting-to-know-you gift. Clothing is intimate and this is … this is huge.”
“Why? It’s just a dress.”
“It’s nearly a thousand dollars!” Her voice was nearing a shriek. She forced her lungs to draw a deeper breath and tried to speak more calmly. “This is a present for a much more established relationship than we have. Than we might ever have.”
Forrest’s eyes became the darkest she’d ever seen, the tiny lines around them frozen in place. “It’s only money,” he said in a tight voice. “I’ve earned a lot of money that I get to spend how I choose. I choose to spend it on you.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to spend it on me.” Nora spoke through gritted teeth. “Maybe I cherish the non-money things more. Maybe I don’t want to feel bought, with a dress or a cruise or anything else.”
His face fell. He looked at the gown in his hands and slowly placed it back in its box. “I think I’d better go.”
Ten short seconds later, he was gone. Out the door, possibly out of town. Probably out of her life.
Nora crumpled, barely making the edge of the dining chair instead of landing on the floor. She sat at the table and stared at the evening gown.
After seeing each other nearly every day for weeks, how could he not know how she would feel? How could he reach his age and life experience and not know that there was symbolism attached to gifts?
She fingered the shimmering fabric. It was truly lovely. If only…
She dropped the dress back into its box and strode toward the kitchen. If there was ever a time to bake, this was it. She clattered beaters and bowls, shoving thoughts of snowy walks and dreamy kisses out of her mind. She mixed sugar, butter, and eggs, fending off images of him draping tinsel or eating her pie. And the chocolate chips—she would not think about melted-chocolate eyes or his warm arm around her.
She slid the cookies into the oven, and the silence around her carried a weight, thick and palpable. Tears flowed freely. Her lungs were so tight she couldn’t draw a breath.
You’re moping like a teenager, Nora Cooper. It was only a crush, nothing more. She might have been falling for Forrest, well on her way to maybe even loving him, but he obviously came from a very different world than hers. If this hadn’t ended now, it would have ended later, probably with a lot more heartache. She’d get over it eventually—she had to—and so would he.
But as strong as her mind was, it couldn’t relieve her heart of the deep sense of loss. The what-ifs and if-only’s hovered over her through batches of chocolate chip, peanut butter kiss, and Russian teacake cookies. The evening seemed shrouded in a deep fog, which she moved through slowly, blindly.
After a sleepless night, the only thing that had changed was her sure knowledge that what she felt for Forrest had been deep and real.
Chapter 16
By Sunday, Nora was exhausted. Despite the lack of sleep, she’d worked extra hours on Saturday, sorted out a problem with a vendor, picked up the borrowed, newly-hemmed dress from Susie, put ribbons on vases, and somehow finished the last of her Christmas shopping. She’d never left it for this late in the season before.
In every store, down every street in town, she kept expecting to see Forrest. She didn’t know why—she knew he’d probably left Friday night—but still she looked for him. And every time she didn’t catch the hoped-for glimpse, she felt a little older, a little dimmer.
She missed his laughter, the way he tucked her hand into his arm, the way he talked about movies like a teenager. She missed the warm conversation and the way he helped with little things like chopping tomatoes. She missed the giddy anticipation of his arrival and the way she felt thoroughly loved when he’d kissed her.
But if it wasn’t to be, then it wasn’t to be. She’d make the best of it and put her focus back where it should be—her son was getting married, after all.
She got up on time for church, put her makeup on carefully, and tried to sing the carols with some sort of feeling. Justin gave her funny looks during the service, and Robin squeezed her hand occasionally, but that was all.
By the time Nora got home—skipping the social time—she felt drained. So she did what she did best.
Three hours later, she had bread rising and the third pan of cinnamon rolls coming out of the oven, but she didn’t feel any better.
The front door opened and Robin called out. “Smells good, Mom!”
“Hey, sweetie. How is Cliff’s family? Did you eat?” Nora enveloped her daughter in a hug, trying not to hold on overly long. She might be feeling needy, but Robin wasn’t.
“His Aunt
Jess’s pot roast is almost as good as yours,” Robin said. “But cinnamon rolls—yum!”
Nora motioned her to the counter.
Robin pulled off a piece and looked around. “You’ve been baking.”
“You think?” Nora chuckled.
“I mean you’ve been emotional-baking.”
Nora shrugged.
Robin pursed her lips and put the kettle on. She didn’t say anything while it heated, just made two cups of tea when the water boiled.
“C’mere, Mom,” she said, leading the way to the living room. “I didn’t think I’d be doing a role-reversal so soon, but…”
“I don’t need an intervention. And I don’t need mothering,” Nora stated flatly.
“Actually, Mom, you do. I cried on your shoulder enough through my teenage years. I recognize the signs.”
“That was different.”
“Yes, but a lot is the same. A broken heart is a broken heart, no matter who did the breaking or how.”
Nora stirred her tea aimlessly. “We just aren’t compatible.”
Robin sighed. “I’ve never seen you with any other guys—well, besides my childhood memories of Dad, and who knows about grown-up relationships at that age? But you and Forrest didn’t seem like just puppy love. You lit up around him, sure, but it was like he brought you back to life in a lot of ways. I think maybe what you two had was real.”
Nora shook her head. “He was managing me, turning me into who he wanted.”
“No, Mom, he was bringing out who you already are, just better.”
“He was buying my love.”
Robin’s teacup clinked on the saucer. “Mom! You don’t trust anybody with money—you think they all have ulterior motives. But look at it from his point of view. He was falling in love with you. He’s generous, and spending money isn’t a big deal for him. He just wanted to make you happy. Nothing else.”
Nora frowned. “He wanted me to go on a private cruise with him.”
“So? Did he pressure you when you said no?”
She shook her head.
“Everything he’s done—everything—has been with you in mind, Mom. You have to give him a second chance. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t.”
Nora stirred her tea and sipped. It was nearly tepid. She looked past the lights in the window, past the cross-stitch of Bethlehem and into the kitchen, remembering Forrest’s half-smile when she had commented about the mistletoe being used well. He’d first put his arm around her on this couch, watching her favorite Christmas movie. He’d helped decorate a tree for a first date.
“He’s a good guy, Mom,” Robin whispered.
He was. He had freely offered what he could, arranging the tuxes and the photographer, finding a DJ, and simply watching out for her. It shouldn’t bother her if he slipped into manager-mode sometimes—that’s who he’d been for a lot of years.
Was he really just a generous man? No manipulative motives? Did he truly not care that she’d declined the cruise he’d offered?
Forrest had stayed calm while she’d argued her reasons, and he’d given in gracefully, accepting her decision. She knew he felt hurt when she’d declined the dress, but now she recalled the look in his eyes as his face fell.
It hadn’t been anger or pride, she realized slowly. It was loss. Loss of love? Loss of hope? Loss of the hope of love? Because that’s what they’d had so far—the hope that real love might be coming.
She’d thought that when she rejected the dress, she was rejecting his power over her. Through his eyes, though, she was rejecting him and all he felt for her, and she for him.
Nora leaned against the back of the couch and groaned. He hadn’t been trying to change her, just love her.
“Mom?” came Robin’s voice. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”
Nora nodded without opening her eyes. “I think I’ve made a mess of things.”
She felt Robin scoot closer and lean against her. She lifted an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and drew her tight. “I remember sitting with you like this when you were sixteen, and the boy you liked asked someone else to Homecoming.”
Robin chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d ever get over it.”
“I may not get over this,” Nora murmured.
Robin sat up straight. “Mom, you have to! I mean, not get over it, but fix it. You can’t let him go like this!”
Nora shook her head. “He made it pretty clear he was done. Out of here. I wouldn’t know what to do to change his mind.” She paused. “And it’s been a long time since I’ve had to ask forgiveness for something this crucial.”
Her daughter stood and began pacing, stepping around sleeping dogs as she went. “It has to be something big, over the top. You know, like what people do to propose and it ends up on YouTube. Or even what guys set up to ask a girl to prom—a hundred roses, or tons of balloons with messages in them, or the top of a Ferris wheel.”
Nora snorted. “Oh, I can just see that! ‘Forrest, I was wrong. Let’s be kids again!’ And then the Ferris wheel would jerk, the cart would tip, and I’d throw up.”
Robin laughed. “Okay, maybe not that, but you get the idea.”
And she did. It needed to be a big gesture, one that would show Forrest that her feelings went beyond the words she was saying. It needed to come from the heart. And it needed to tell him that she was hoping for real love, too.
Was she brave enough?
Three hours later, Nora’s hands shook with nerves. She opened her phone and selected Forrest’s number, then tried to quiet the thousands of birds taking flight in her belly while she waited for him to pick up.
Forrest’s voice was calm and reserved when he said hello, then rather hesitant as he agreed to meet her. No warmth, no smile through the phone, no love. But he didn’t say no, and she couldn’t expect more than that.
Chapter 17
Monday. Two days before Christmas, the day before the wedding, and Nora wasn’t sure how she was going to get through it. She had the last wedding prep to do, and she was planning on skipping out later.
She rose early and baked the cakes, setting them to cool to frost later. She worked the lunch shift at the restaurant, with Angus taking both breakfast and dinner. On the dot of two, she was out the restaurant door and back home, putting the crumb coat of icing on the cake layers.
And then she took a deep breath. It was time to slow down and savor.
After a shower and extra time with her hair, Nora used every make-up trick she knew to smooth her skin, brighten her eyes, and deepen her lips.
She lifted the shimmery bronze gown from its hanger and slipped it over her head. It had just enough stretch to let her get the zipper up by herself. A glance in the mirror made her gasp—it was as gorgeous as she’d dreamed it would be.
Nora smiled at her second thought: she didn’t look so bad herself!
She blasted Christmas music the whole way south to Cottage Grove, while nerves kept trying to beat down the confidence she’d started with. As she pulled into the Village Green, decorated with more holiday lights than should be possible in one place, the nerves won out.
What if he’d decided not to come? No, he would at least have let her know. He was still a gentleman.
What if he wouldn’t listen to her? No, he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
What if he didn’t believe her? No, he…
She couldn’t come up with anything to counter that. If Forrest didn’t believe her sincerity, there wasn’t anything she could do. One blessing—or curse—of being a certain age was that you knew you couldn’t change someone else against their will.
It was quite simple—if Forrest didn’t believe her, he didn’t believe her. Her heart would be broken as surely as she’d broken his. There wouldn’t be any second chances.
Nora filled her lungs with chilly air, tightened her wrap around her, and walked slowly toward the gazebo.
The walk was lined with white lights, and e
ach pillar was wrapped until you couldn’t see the post. The roof was outlined in green, slowly transforming to purple and then red in turn. She could see a small family standing inside, but no single man. No Forrest.
She’d never known him not to be on time, but perhaps with the extra drive… She stepped up to the gazebo floor, smiled at the family, and sat on a small bench to enjoy the other lights as best she could.
A beautiful lighted swan, a green and blue igloo, packages and bows and hanging lanterns amidst the lush gardens…but still no Forrest.
Then she saw him, locking his car, walking with his head down. Was that the posture of a man making an unpleasant duty call, or was he simply tucked in against the chilly breeze? It didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen her yet, but she wasn’t going to wait until he reached the gazebo. This was no time to make an entrance all about her.
Nora’s heart beat faster as she left the lighted stand. She loosened her wrap just a bit, smoothed down the front of the gown. A few snowflakes scattered in the air around her.
She knew the moment Forrest saw her. He stopped, frozen. She kept her eyes on his, watched his gaze run down to her shoes and back up. He opened his mouth and shut it again.
She was closer now, close enough to speak, but kept silent a moment more. With her hands clasped tightly in front of her, she stopped so close that his breath in the cold air reached her face, and let the apology and the yearning show in her eyes.
He searched her face, questioning. He swallowed slowly. “The dress,” he croaked. “You’re wearing the dress.”
Nora only nodded, not taking her eyes off his.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“The dress is beautiful,” she countered.
“No, you are beautiful.” He finally reached his hand forward, stroking her cheek.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, savoring it. This. This was what she had longed for. Not just any touch from a man, but a real connection with this man dear to her heart, this man who cherished her in turn.
Nora looked at Forrest again, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry. We come from such different backgrounds and I…I hadn’t looked at it from your point of view. I thought you were manipulating me, but you weren’t, were you? You just—”