by Ellie Hall
Instead, he shot JJ a glare. He was going to hear it from him later. That box and its contents were no one’s business. But JJ couldn’t have known what was inside. Right?
The corner of JJ’s lip lifted in a half smile, which suggested that whether or not he’d known ahead of time what the box contained, he understood perfectly once Rachel had pulled out the paper and read it aloud.
Somehow, the eldest Kelly knew everything. He responded to Ryan’s look of warning by humming a song then mumbling some lyrics that sounded suspiciously like a country rendition of the conversation Niles, the family lawyer and Dad’s oldest friend, had with the brothers about Dad’s will back in November.
Niles had sat down with them and said, “Boys...”
Even though they were all grown men with careers, had multiple triumphs and suffered various tragedies in their lives, anytime a conversation started with boys, it was going to be a tough one. By the time Niles was done, Ryan felt like a boy who’d been goofing around for the last eight years instead of becoming the man his father wished him to be. Plus, there were the charities to think of. His father had also stipulated that the charities that all of the boys had started with their father, would not be funded if they weren’t all married by Christmas. It was ‘dirty pool,’ but they had to figure it out.
Niles informed Jack Kelly’s sons that they wouldn’t receive their portions of the billions in savings if they weren't married by Christmas. Regardless of the gift Rachel opened, Ryan only had twelve days left anyway. There was no way he’d find true love in such a short amount of time. That ship had sailed. Rather, he’d run from it, practically shouting mayday, mayday. The stipulation stung particularly badly because Ryan sensed his father’s disappointment at having run away from Rachel. Just because he’s living his football dream, doesn’t mean everyone else gets it. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly JJ’s dream, but he had his woman living just down the street. And Ryan knew, since talking to Chantel, he’d be getting his dream soon enough. It was destined.
Never mind that, what Ryan had been doing for the last five years was making money. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need the inheritance to support himself or for retirement, but it was what Niles said next that had caused his stomach to roll.
JJ lifted his hand and waved, interrupting Ryan’s streaming thoughts. “I have to head out, but I look forward to seeing you and catching up at the fundraiser gala, Rachel.” He smirked and swept from the room. The front door opened and closed.
In JJ’s wake, the only sound in the room was the crackling fire and Ryan’s pulse.
It was as though the cold weather had accompanied Rachel inside. She stood frozen despite her proximity to the fire.
Ryan crossed the room, preparing to explain.
The paper with Ryan’s question trembled in her left hand. In the other, she clutched the box with the half-torn wrapping paper. On that hand, a thin line, paler than her regular skin, ringed her fourth finger. Was she engaged? The thought distracted him long enough to prevent him from finding the words to take the gift back. But he couldn’t anyway. It was too late. She must have understood what he’d intended all those years ago.
Her big brown eyes scanned the slip of paper that was inside the box, the one he’d written five years previously.
“Please, say yes,” he whispered as though uttering a wish.
The words fell between them.
Ryan shook his head. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Maybe in another life but not the one that changed the day his mother died.
Her eyes brimmed with liquid.
“It was from before,” he said vaguely and hoping she understood without him having to go into too much detail. “I found it in my room. JJ put it under the tree. It wasn’t supposed—”
As much as he’d shrunk under his father’s disappointment, he couldn’t face hers either. She was as still and silent as a statue.
He edged away, ready to take flight, desperate to run yet he couldn’t. She didn’t move either. It was like her presence magnetized him to the space, holding him there.
She stared at the paper as though imagining what her life would’ve been like had he given it to her properly, followed by his plan of lowering to one knee, and presenting her with a ring. He’d never picked it up from the jeweler. Instead, he’d ran when he learned his mother had died. He’d turned his back on his father, his brothers, and Rachel.
She leaned toward the hearth and tossed the paper into the flames.
Shame set him on fire, burning through him, searing, painful. He shifted from foot to foot, ready to plunge back into the snowstorm, but Rachel’s presence held him rooted to the spot until she put the box in his hands and walked toward the door.
He studied the torn wrapping paper. Returning home was a mistake. He should’ve thrown the box out when he’d found it earlier. He should’ve remained in Boston. A small voice in his head told him he was where he was supposed to be and that he shouldn’t have fled in the first place. The tone wasn’t chiding. Rather, it was soothing and sounded surprisingly like his mother’s.
He may have done a lot of things wrong, but at that moment, he resolved to do the right thing. “Rachel, can I give you a ride home?” he asked. It was too far and the snow too heavy for her to run or walk.
She simply nodded.
When Niles had sent word that he needed to talk to the brothers together, Ryan drove his truck from Boston. It was in desperate need of a wash, but the snow covered the dirt and grime it had gathered as he’d put miles behind him on the way to Colorado.
He held the door open for Rachel.
“We should check on the kittens,” she said as she buckled up.
The crunch of the snow under the truck’s tires was the only sound as Ryan maneuvered slowly over the unplowed service road toward the east barn, which was mostly used for storage. Ryan’s horse, Steve the Steed, was in another barn on the vast property.
Once inside, they found the kittens snuggled together but alone and with no sign of the mother cat.
Rachel gazed past him and into the distance with a desperate, pleading look on her face. The pain and sadness in her brown eyes were worse than before. “I’ll bring them back to my house,” she stammered, gathering up the box.
Ryan drove the familiar route to Mulberry Street and Rachel’s small house on the edge of town. The conditions in the mountains often caused the roads that led up to the Kelly Ranch to close so he was glad to get her out okay.
The neighborhood hadn’t changed much. Mr. Brundson still needed to paint his fence, the Angelettis hadn’t moved the old, rusty Chevy from the driveway, and Monica Shen’s house was covered in Christmas lights. Then as he pulled in front of Rachel’s house, Ryan said, “There’s no tree lit up in your front yard?”
Because the winters in the mountains were long and everyone wanted a little extra light, Christmas decorations often went up early and in abundance. The Kellys always had their tree up by December first and Rachel and her mom often started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. Mrs. Moore had joked that she needed to get her money’s worth.
Because Ryan didn’t want to part on bad terms and because he could hardly help himself, he said, “I remember the story you told me about how when you were a little girl you were afraid Santa wouldn’t see the tree in the corner of the living room. So you asked your mom if you could decorate the pine tree in the front yard too.” A little chuckle escaped because as far as seven-year-olds went, that was sound reasoning. It was a tradition Rachel and Mrs. Moore kept up every year. Ryan had even helped them decorate it a couple of times.
“We don’t have a tree this year.” Rachel’s voice was small, distant.
Ryan’s hands were on the wheel as though he was ready to speed off and rush away from whatever troubled her. But the snow drove down hard and fast so his departure would’ve been careful and slow. Not only that, but the truth was, part of him didn’t want to go. If he said good
bye, that might be the last time.
“Do you want to come inside?” Rachel asked as though reading his thoughts.
Chapter 4
It was hard not to stare heart eyes at Ryan. His ruggedly handsome features drew the attention of women their age and older. Rachel found herself studying him after she’d asked if he wanted to go inside and he hadn’t answered. Her interest was partly because it had been so long since she’d last seen him. Five years had only made him dreamier.
She recalled doodling in the margins of her notebooks in school, testing out what Mrs. Kelly felt like written in ink. If he’d asked her to marry him, if they’d gone through with it, if everything hadn’t changed, what would her life be like? What would it be like if her last name was Kelly? A tingling sensation warmed her through and blood rose to her cheeks. She leaned against the window to cool off, desperate to push the thought away.
She could hardly believe they were sitting in the truck together on Mulberry Street. She wanted to spot the differences in him as she clung to the hope that he’d dealt with whatever had caused him to run from everyone he’d cared about. But they could never be together again. Not after what he’d done. Still, she couldn’t deny how her body was drawn to him like a magnet—like poles attracting. But her mind and heart did their job of repelling.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m not smiling.”
“You were before like you were remembering something.”
She groaned. He knew her so well. “I was just thinking back to high school and how I was the nerdy science geek.”
“And I was a football jock.”
“But somehow we became best friends.”
“We sure did.”
The truth in her heart, begging to be spoken, was then we became more. But she wouldn’t let those particular words fall from her tongue because that stupid package had almost split open the splinter that was still raw inside her heart. Nevertheless, being around him filled her in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was a light from the past that brought her warmth. If she let it, it could illuminate her future. She clung to hope. She needed a lamplight of some sort to guide her forward. He knew her the best of anyone, she wanted that familiarity and comfort amidst so much uncertainty. She fought a silent battle and finally came up with a truce. They were both in a small town, making it difficult to avoid each other. They had a shared past, there was no denying that. As it stood, Rachel’s future was uncertain. Her mind-heart-body decided she and Ryan could rekindle their friendship so she wasn’t so alone. But nothing more. That part of the treaty was highlighted and underlined.
“Do you think we could try being friends again?” she blurted. After the devasting news, she really needed a friend.
As he gazed through the windshield and into the beams of light from the truck’s headlights funneling the snow as it came down, his jaw twitched, his lips pressed together, and the conflict in his eyes caused her heart to hurt.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
She was still in shock from Ryan’s reappearance, the box under the tree and what it had meant, and the very fact that she’d left Miami, but the weather at that moment was of greater concern. It was likely what Ryan also struggled with the most. In part, it was mother nature who had taken away the lovely, kind, and generous Susan Kelly.
Rachel drew a breath. “I wasn’t expecting this storm. It’s practically whiteout conditions. You’re welcome to come in and wait for it to pass.” It was the right thing to offer, the reasonable thing. She would’ve offered shelter to anyone in need or passing through—neighbor or stranger. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Ryan, the boy she’d once loved. It wasn’t that she wanted to know if he’d become a man that she could be friends with.
It was also because she knew what was going through his mind. She knew him too well.
His hand gripped the wheel as the truck idled.
Susan Kelly had been flown into one of the larger towns nearby for a grocery run. The conditions hadn’t been ideal and the pilot had a stroke. When the wreckage was found, she was gone. Scattered around were protein bars for Ryan, Parker’s favorite cereal, and new socks for Clark. All the brothers blamed themselves.
If they’d told her to wait for the conditions to clear up, maybe she’d have...
If he hadn’t asked for those special bars that were only available at Myer’s Health Food Store...
If only...
Rachel knew all about the what-if game. If there a Superbowl level competition for it, she’d be a worthy opponent against Ryan.
“Hopefully it’ll let up soon.” Ryan raked his hand through his hair as though balancing between two difficult choices.
She didn’t want to think he hesitated because of her, their past, or the box.
Then he suddenly slid out of the truck and slammed his door. Before she was able to open the passenger side, he’d pulled it open and took the box of kittens from her lap. As he did so his hand brushed the back of hers. The magnetism between them pulsed. He quickly moved away.
Shivers ran up her spine. Like the place where he’d gripped her arm, the spot seared from his accidental touch. She told her body to shut it down. Offering Ryan stay an hour or two for the storm to slow and the plows to clear the roads was the civil and safe thing to do.
“We should get these guys settled in.” He trudged up the path to the dark house where Rachel had lived her entire life.
She followed his massive footsteps, wincing as the snow dropped into her sneakers.
Rachel’s mother, Sheila Moore, had worked as the secretary to a nearby lumber company for over twenty-five years. She’d also taken odd jobs, looking after other people’s kids, cleaning houses, and helping local business owners with bookkeeping. While Rachel was in kindergarten, she’d saved enough to buy the rented house from the homeowners when they’d decided to retire in Arizona. Sheila had taken a lot of pride in the home and was fastidious about cleaning and decorating.
If Ryan noticed the changes in the house, he didn’t say anything. Boxes were stacked against one wall where the Christmas tree usually stood. There were bags for donations and a jumble of household items Rachel planned to try to sell at a yard sale in the spring.
She was going to try to explain, but the words caught in her throat.
As Ryan refilled a bowl of water for the cats, she said a prayer. When she opened her eyes, he took two mugs out of the cabinet. Of course, he’d known his way around her house since they’d spent so much time together in high school, but she was surprised to see him return so quickly to that comfort level.
She brushed past him and put the kettle on. “I can do it. Did you want anything to drink?” She was torn between having good manners and the harsh reality that Ryan Kelly, the Ryan Kelly was back in her life and she wanted to be friends with him.
“I got it. I figured we could use something warm.”
She dropped two herbal gingerbread tea bags in their mugs—one decorated with Christmas elves and the other with mini Santa heads. The box wrapped with Christmas paper that she’d accidentally opened came to mind again.
It had said Please, say yes. She needed to say no.
No to Ryan’s presence.
No to the mixed feelings she had.
No to anything other than friendship.
No to everything other than focusing on the reason she was packing up the house and preparing to sell it.
What she needed was closure on the past, when he’d run without explanation, leaving her, the girl he was going to ask to marry him, all alone. And truly being alone loomed in her near future. Or maybe because she was back home and the heartbreaking and inevitable conclusion with her mom, part of her wanted the familiarity of a friend, of Ryan.
She squeezed her eyes shut at how complicated all her feelings had become.
He lowered into a chair at the kitchen table. It was covered in tape, a
black marker, and stacks of old newspapers.
“You’re back in town, but it looks like you’re leaving soon.” He leaned back in the chair.
She nodded then shook her head. “Just relocating.” It was the only solution she could come up with to pay the hefty medical bills.
“Back to Miami?” he asked.
She opened and closed her mouth. Rachel knew returning home was the right thing to do, the only thing, but the career and dream she’d given up still pained her. It was selfish to think that way and made her feel empty and guilty inside because her mother was the one who was truly suffering.
She couldn’t answer his question because her future was uncertain. “I just want to get through the holidays,” she said. It was the best answer she could give.
“Yeah. I know the feeling.”
At those words, she recalled his loss had recently doubled. “I’m sorry about your father. I would’ve gone to the funeral but—” She was careful to be sensitive to his recent loss on top of how difficult it was to be outright mad at him. Being numb, indifferent, or at least telling herself she was for all those years, was easier.
He waved her off. “I couldn’t expect you to fly all the way here for me—” He stopped himself. “I mean, my family. It’s no big deal.”
Except it was. She was struggling with what it would mean to lose someone she loved dearly. “Actually, I was on a boat out of range doing a project for my doctorate. I found out when I got back but by then they’d already had the services.” She explained a bit about her degree and research in the mid-Atlantic. “We’d discovered a rare form of plankton, which proved a hypothesis...Never mind. This can’t possibly interest you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “If you recall, I enjoyed when you talked nerdy.” A smirk appeared on his lips.
Her stomach tickled and she shifted in her seat. “Well, raising funds for research and the actual research itself bores most guys.”