Bill—always a man of few words—gave a slight nod.
Ella appeared again, this time with Lacy at her side. “Boomer keeps sniffing around in the kitchen. I bet he can’t wait for scraps.”
Aberdeen carried in the monster-sized turkey and shyly set it on the table to a round of applause. “I was glad to do it.”
“Make room,” Piney commanded. “Donovan has to be hungry after working all day.”
When everyone was gathered around the table, they joined hands.
“Donovan, you say grace,” Piney said.
Donovan obediently bowed his head. “Father, we thank you for this meal we are about to eat, for good friends to share it with, and for our time together.” That nearly encompassed all the warm feelings he was having, so he continued, with the blessing he’d said around this table as a child. “Bless us, O Lord”—others joined in with him—“and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.” Donovan finished with the sign of the cross, as others did as well.
They all tucked in to the turkey, moose ribs, and smoked salmon pâté. It was a noisy affair and so much more fun than coming home to an empty house.
Donovan stood and raised his glass. “I’d like to propose a toast. To Sweet Home. For sharing this marvelous food.” Everyone raised their glasses and drank. Donovan remained standing. “It wouldn’t be a proper Thanksgiving if I didn’t share how thankful I am for all of you.” He glanced over at Hope and Ella, mentally giving thanks specifically for them. Though Hope said this was Ella’s idea, he knew it was Hope who had pulled it off. Later, he would get her alone . . . and thank her properly.
Piney stood next. “To our loved ones lost. To Charles and Elsie Stone.”
“To Charles and Elsie,” the crowd said.
Donovan added his own private toast, To Beau and Izzie. He couldn’t help but glance at Hope, wondering if she could read his thoughts. She was staring at him until his eyes reached hers and then her gaze darted away.
Mr. Brewster stood next. “To Donovan . . . for coming home.”
“To Donovan,” the crowd said cheerily.
They were acting like he’d come home for good. But Alaska wasn’t his home anymore. He would have to let it slide today, but as soon as he could, he was going to have a serious conversation with Mr. Brewster again, and make him see the truth.
When the pumpkin, salmonberry, and blueberry pies were served, Piney called out to Donovan, “Your grandfather Charles always cut down his Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. Do you remember?”
“Yes.” He and Beau always went along, even before they were old enough to hold the handsaw.
“I assume you’ll carry on the tradition?” Piney looked pointedly from him to Ella.
“Ella, would you like to go with me to get the tree?” he asked.
The panicked look on her face said he shouldn’t have put her on the spot, in front of everyone here.
“And your mom, too?” He made it sound like a question.
Hope turned to her daughter. “If you want me to go, I can go.” But she didn’t sound too enthusiastic.
Ella glanced at Lacy.
“Lacy and Aberdeen are welcome, too,” Donovan offered.
“I have to work tomorrow,” Aberdeen said. “But Lacy can go if she wants.”
“Sounds like fun,” Lacy said. “As long as your mom can bring some of her famous hot chocolate along.”
Hope looked at Ella, who nodded. “I can absolutely make hot chocolate. I think we’re out of cocoa so I’ll have to run to the Hungry Bear tonight.”
After dessert—Donovan had tasted each pie and couldn’t decide which he liked best—he noticed several of the women rise and start to clear the dishes.
“Sorry, folks. There is a rule here at the lodge, a new rule,” he clarified. “The people who prepare the home-cooked meals get to relax afterward. Everyone else cleans up.” He stood. “Like me. Anyone else?”
Lacy pulled Ella up. “We’ll help.”
Jesse rose, too. “Shaun and I are heading home. Mom texted that she’s awake.”
Piney hurried from the table, speaking over her shoulder as she went. “I made Patricia a plate to take to her.”
“Thanks, Piney.”
Miss Lisa got to her feet and reached for two plates. “Cleaning up is part of Thanksgiving.”
“Nope. Please go relax in the living room,” Donovan said.
Bill stood and joined the kitchen crew.
“I thought you made the moose ribs,” Donovan said.
“I’ll load the dishwasher.” Bill’s tone brooked no argument.
“Thanks.” Donovan gathered more dishes from the table and took them into the kitchen, glad they’d installed two new dishwashers.
Hope gathered dishes, too, and joined them.
“Out,” Donovan said. “New house rules, remember?”
“I didn’t do much,” she said.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He pulled her into the hallway and from there toward his office. Once they were inside and the door shut, he said, “I’d like to come along to the Hungry Bear after the crowd thins. I could use your help picking out snacks for the tree-hunting expedition, things Ella and Lacy might like.”
“Okay,” she said dubiously. Clearly she meant, That’s what you wanted to talk about?
“Listen. I want to thank you for today. Everything you did.”
Hope acted like a caged animal. “I told you. It was Ella.”
“And she had no help pulling this together?” He reached out and started to pull her in for a hug. But gently squeezed her arm instead. “You’re a good person.” He wanted to tell her more, like how she’d grown into an amazing woman and had raised an amazing daughter. But he couldn’t. She’d get the wrong idea. He was leaving and he didn’t want to lead her on. “Thanks for everything.”
He walked out of the office and back to the dishes, leaving her behind. But he didn’t think that was going to stop the stirring inside—the old feelings, how it’d been between him and Hope . . . the longing. He worried he might never be the same again.
* * *
• • •
WHEN THE KITCHEN and dining room were cleaned up, Hope didn’t go hang out with the others in the living room. Instead, she headed upstairs to Ella’s old room and knocked. “Donovan and I are heading to town to get snacks for tomorrow from the Hungry Bear. Anything special you want?”
“I’m too full to answer right now. You know what I like.” A week ago, Ella might’ve complained, not wanting Hope to spend time with Donovan. “Lacy and I are going to work on our Wandering Moose Rail Fence quilt, if that’s okay?”
“Absolutely. You two are part of the Sisterhood of the Quilt and you can work in the studio anytime you like . . . as long as your homework is done first.”
Ella hugged her and then turned back to Lacy. “Come on. Let’s head downstairs.”
Smiling, Hope savored the hug, not wanting to go downstairs and make small talk. Maybe I can sneak off to the Hungry Bear without Donovan seeing. But that wouldn’t be nice. And although he said she was a good person, she was still making up for what she’d done to him.
But when she got downstairs, people were pulling on their coats.
“What’s going on?” Hope asked Piney.
“Most everyone wants to get a good night’s sleep so they’ll be fresh for tomorrow morning.”
“Is there something I don’t know?”
“The lot of them are planning to be back at work on the lodge and the hardware store first thing.”
“But it’s a holiday weekend. Donovan doesn’t expect anyone to work,” Hope said.
“Yes, but everyone’s concerned that the businesses won’t be up and running by the Christmas Festival.”
Hope nodded. “There’s still so much to be done.”
“You don’t worry about a thing. You and Donovan pick out a tree tomorrow. The Christmas tree is one of the important items on the to-do list.” Piney gave her a hug. “This Thanksgiving potluck was such a good idea. It really brought the community together, especially the people who live alone, making sure they weren’t left out this time of year.”
“It was Ella’s idea,” Hope reiterated for the hundredth time. But she had been the one to organize it. “I’m happy we’ll have the Christmas Festival this year. It’s another way to bring everyone together.”
“I’ll see you here, tomorrow, after your Christmas tree adventure. The Sisterhood of the Quilt will be working feverishly.”
Donovan came into the entry as Piney was pulling on her boots.
“Hope, are you about ready to go?” he asked.
Piney’s eyebrows shot up. “Where are you two going now? A date?”
Hope glared at her. “Donovan wants to pick up snacks for the tree hunt tomorrow. I told him he could tag along with me to the Hungry Bear.”
Donovan frowned at Piney as if she were being ridiculous. Hope agreed. It wasn’t a date and Piney better quit suggesting that it was. Thank goodness Piney didn’t know about the kisses they’d shared!
Chuckling, Piney walked out the door.
Donovan pulled Hope’s new coat from the hook and she automatically slid her arms into the sleeves.
Hope muttered at the shut door, “I don’t know why she keeps doing that.” Keeps thinking there is more going on between us than there is. She glanced down and realized that Donovan was zipping up her coat. She didn’t make a fuss, and she didn’t stop him either. For her, it felt like one of the most intimate moments they’d ever shared. She took that second to gaze upon him, marveling at him being so close.
“Let’s get going,” he said huskily, which made her wonder if he felt the buzz between them, too.
Or had her imagination gone off the rails? Yes, most definitely! She’d killed his brother and he could never feel anything for her again.
Yet there was . . . something there. Something different. Instead of avoiding her, he seemed to actually like spending time with her now. Was it possible Donovan was beginning to forgive her? The thought threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She wanted his forgiveness. Actually, she wanted more from him. Much more. Could they ever go back to where they’d been in high school? Probably not. But that didn’t keep her from wanting him. In the moment she decided to admit to herself that she still loved him. Not the love of a teenage girl for a teenage boy . . . but the love of a woman for a man. It was deep and real and she was going to own it. Whether it was good for her or not.
But was she going to act on it? Absolutely not.
She opened the door and rushed out to the car. She had to break the mood, make things normal between them—employee and boss. She spoke over her shoulder. “Did you know that the group here tonight—maybe the whole town—plan to be back at work tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He opened her car door and then hurried to the other side.
“Should we postpone the tree-hunting trip?”
“According to Mr. Brewster, he has the hardware store under control and everyone at the lodge knows what they’re doing, too.” His voice grew softer. “Besides, Ella’s all set to go, and I want to strike while the iron is hot.”
“You’re right.” Something had changed. Hope was no longer wishing Donovan would leave so her heart wouldn’t be in danger. It was too late for that and she’d have to deal with the emptiness when he left. The real issue now was that she’d kept Ella away from him for too long. He deserved to spend time with his daughter. To build memories . . . for when he was gone. She didn’t trust herself to think further than today or to say more.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they arrived at the Hungry Bear, Hope pulled out her key and unlocked the door, knowing she had only a few minutes to disable the old-fashioned sound-activated alarm, first the alarm itself and then the control panel at the back door.
She moved as quietly as she could to the meat counter, where the alarm sat. Donovan followed her, standing so close behind her in the darkened store that she could smell his minty breath. She turned to face him, intending to ask for some space, but she couldn’t get her lungs to work properly; her breathing was too shallow. His chest rose and fell in time with hers, breath for breath. She felt like she’d entered into a dream. He tenderly hooked her hair behind her ear and searched her face in the shadows. Then his gaze fell to her lips. She lifted her head, and as if in slow motion, he leaned down and kissed her. Or maybe she met him halfway. The kiss was hesitant, tender, questioning. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, Donovan pulled her into his arms, molding her to the length of him, pushing the limits, the kiss going from innocent to igniting with passion. Electricity flowed between them in the safety of the darkness, making her ache, hoping it would never end. She turned off her brain and threw everything she had into kissing him back. He lost his balance a little, rocking backward into a display of stacked cans. She didn’t care. I’ll pick the cans up later. But as they clattered to the floor, the alarm blared and the alarm light strobed. The whole thing screamed, Danger, danger!
She jumped away from him.
The alarm was right; this moment had been full of danger. Her heart was a weakling—fragile as a crystal bulb—and couldn’t take Donovan’s kisses. He tried to keep hold of her, but she pushed him away.
“I have to shut it off,” she yelled above the blaring noise, as if that were the sole issue. How could she admit that she wouldn’t survive having her heart broken again?
She hit the switch on the alarm and then went to the control panel. Once she entered the code, she turned on the overhead lights, bringing the world into clearer focus.
She went back to where the cans had been scattered, but Donovan was nearly done rebuilding the display. He glanced up at her, then looked away. “Sorry.”
She didn’t know if he meant sorry for the kiss or sorry for the mess . . . and she was too afraid to ask.
“I’ll get a cart.”
* * *
• • •
DONOVAN SHOULDN’T HAVE kissed Hope. It was wrong to . . . to start something, when it was almost time for him to leave Sweet Home. But that was his brain talking. His heart couldn’t dig up a good reason why he shouldn’t pull Hope into his arms again. It wasn’t just old times; this was new, powerful. A pull so deep that he couldn’t name it.
Awkward silence settled over the Hungry Bear as they loaded the grocery cart with snacks for the girls and lunch fixings for the workers who were going to be at the lodge tomorrow. Hope’s stiff movements made him wish he hadn’t kissed her. They’d started to become friends again and now he’d probably ruined it.
She rang up the groceries and he handed her his credit card without a word. They drove back to the lodge and he carried in the groceries while she put them away. When she was done, she went down the hall to the studio. He was left alone in the kitchen staring at nothing.
Finally he pulled out his car keys and headed out for a drive. Not far from the lodge he realized he should’ve thought this through first, as snow was starting to come down hard. He pulled into the cemetery and parked. He sat there for a couple of minutes before tramping through the fresh snow to Beau’s grave.
“Oh man, you’re gonna laugh. I did something really stupid tonight,” he said to Beau, dusting snow from the tombstone even though it was immediately covered again. “Hope and I were at the Hungry Bear, and it was dark, and it was right after she’d organized this amazing Thanksgiving dinner.” The wind blew even harder, swirling snow all around him as if to say, Get to the point. “I kissed her. I mean I really kissed her, like she was still mine and we were going to be together forever.”
He traced Beau’s death d
ate on the headstone, though it felt impossible that his brother was really gone. “I’m a complete idiot. I don’t know what to do.”
He looked up but couldn’t see the sky, only snow. He wasn’t going to get an answer from Beau this time. The answer was really inside himself but he didn’t want to pull it out and examine it. He might have to let go of the past if he did.
He returned to his car and slid behind the wheel but didn’t want to go home just yet. Hope would be there. Though he’d made his decision, he wasn’t certain he could keep from pulling her into his arms again. Instead he drove into town to check if the paint had dried in the break room. Then he paced the aisles, remembering how he’d followed his grandpa around the hardware store as he helped customers, until he was old enough himself to help customers find what they needed. Some of his best lessons about human nature came from working at this store. Donovan settled in behind the old cash register—which they were keeping for nostalgia’s sake—and thought about the countless hours he’d spent checking out items for the citizens of Sweet Home and the tourists who came to see the eclectic hardware store. Donovan longed to go back to those days, when Beau was alive and this town was their home. Finally, around midnight he put his memories away and drove back to the lodge.
The second he walked in the door, Hope—with Boomer in her arms—jumped to her feet from her place on the couch. She had such a worried look on her face that panic made his heart pound.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Where were you?” she said. “It’s snowing.”
“Did something happen to Ella?”
“Ella’s fine. She went to bed. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I went for a drive.”
“But the weather is horrible!” She turned away as if she were composing herself. “Boomer was worried. Ella asked after you, too.”
Boomer must have heard his name. He wiggled to get down, and she set him on the floor and released him. He scampered across the hardwood and slid to a stop at Donovan’s feet.
“Come here, you good-for-nothing ragamuffin.” He leaned over and ruffled his furry head.
One Snowy Night Page 26