A Christmas Bride in Pinecraft (12 page)

Actually, a pretty green tree in the window would look really pretty. Festive.

“I'm not talking about purchasing an inflatable Santa and sticking him on your lawn, Bev,” he said gently. “Instead, I think we should head to the empty lot next to the hardware store and buy us a six- or seven-foot Christmas tree. A real one, so the whole room will smell like Christmas.”

“Like evergreens,” she mused. “Heavenly.”

“It would be perfect.” If he hadn't seen the fresh wave of longing in her eyes, he would have thought he'd imagined it. He
pressed a bit further. “We don't even have to put any ornaments on it if you don't want.”

Ironically, she looked a bit peeved. “Eric, we can't have a plain, bare tree simply sitting around. What would people say?”

It was becoming difficult to keep a straight face. “How about we put lights on it? Just a bunch of white lights?”

“White lights would look pretty.”

“Christmasy, yet plain.”

“The Amish don't use electricity. So not too Plain.”

He started laughing. “You are so literal sometimes, Beverly Overholt. Honestly, you crack me up. I meant that we won't have a tree with all kinds of ornaments and stuffed birds hanging from the branches.”

“Absolutely not. We have birds outside.”

She sounded so prim and proper, he was tempted to remind her that there were trees outside, too, but he was pretty sure that would work against his plan. “So what do you say? Will you go get a Christmas tree with me?”

She bit her lip, glanced around the neatly organized room, and then seemed to have made her decision.
“Jah.”

“Thank you. I think it's going to look great. And I promise I won't make you get the biggest tree in the lot.”

“
Gut
. It would take up the whole gathering room.”

“We can't have that. It's going to be hard enough to get it set up.” He clapped his hands together. “How long is it going to take you to finish your inventory?”

Looking sheepish, she said, “I don't actually need to sort through all of this right now. I did a big shopping run right after Thanksgiving. Want to leave around ten?”

“Ten sounds perfect.” He noticed that her eyes were glowing. For the first time since his arrival, she didn't look as if she was scared to face the day. “You know if we go look at trees, we might as well pick up a wreath, too.”

She nodded. “I thought of that. And I would like to get some pretty red ribbon, too.”

“You going to make a bow for the wreath?”

“
Nee
. But I do want to hang Christmas cards up on the walls.” She smiled then, gifting him with a bit of her happiness. “
Danke
, Eric. I am looking forward to this.”

“Me, too. I can hardly wait.”

I
f anyone had asked, Beverly would have denied that picking out a tree was an exciting task. To admit such a thing would be childish and vaguely embarrassing.

The miracle of Jesus' birth should've always been first and foremost in her mind. But she couldn't help considering how a lit Christmas tree, ribbons, and a wreath would make the inn look more welcoming and cozy. They would also erase any stain that remained on the inn's reputation from the robbery.

But inside, Beverly was practically jumping up and down. She was also taking in every sight and sound around them and depositing them in her memory to revisit on future days when she was sitting alone and feeling a little blue. The pine smelled fresh and reminded her of her childhood home in Ohio and the
woods nearby, of growing up and seeing snow covering every surface in December.

That was when she realized Eric really had known what she needed. Sometimes a person had to take a step outside what was comfortable and allow themselves to enjoy something different.

She was glad to not be worrying about police reports and guests' needs and what to cook. She was glad to be out of the inn, and for once not remembering the damage that had been done to the cozy bed-and-breakfast that had given her so much comfort over the last few years.

As she embraced that thought, she started noticing all sorts of things: children scampering among the trees, pointing out their favorites and tugging on their parents' sleeves. Some were even playing hide-and-seek among the displays. It was a little bit naughty, but Beverly couldn't help but smile as she watched them. Their antics reminded her further of growing up and the many enjoyable hours she'd spent in the wide open fields near her family's farm.

But the sight that struck her most was of a little girl who couldn't have been more than four or five examining each tree with wide eyes. Compared to her size, the Christmas trees looked stalwart and tall. But her expression mirrored exactly how Beverly was feeling: wondrous. Knowing that she had something in common with that little girl made her heart warm.

Even the arguments taking place near the various parked vehicles made her grin. It seemed that buying the tree wasn't necessarily the hardest part. Strapping it onto the length of a car in a secure way looked like it was a job and a half.

“You okay, Bev?” Eric asked.

Beverly started, realizing that she'd been staring blankly into the distance. “Oh, I'm fine. My mind went wandering for a minute, but I'm better now.”

His lips tilted up for a moment, but he was still gazing at her with a hint of worry. “Sure?”

“Very sure. This was exactly what I needed, Eric.
Danke
.”

His smile grew, and she knew she'd pleased him.

“All right, let's do this.”

Shaking her head at his expression, she led the way, walking up and down the lot. The trees were bunched rather close together, and before long, they were surrounded by the smell of pine. Sometimes they even had to gently raise or lower branches in order to examine each tree.

And examine them they did!

After twenty minutes passed, Eric sighed. “Bev, what was wrong with that blue spruce? I thought it looked fine.”

“It didn't look very fresh.”

“They aren't going to be
that
fresh. They were carted down here to Florida.”

“It looked a little lopsided, too.”

“None are going to be perfect.”

“One will be,” she said with a smile. “And don't complain. This was your idea, remember.”

“I haven't forgotten,” he grumbled.

But Beverly did notice that his eyes had lit up. She led the way down the rows again, stopping to feel the branches and needles, inspecting each tree from every angle.

After another thirty minutes, Eric reached for her hand.
“Beverly, I can't take it much longer. Pick a tree. Pick
any
tree. Please.”

“Oh, all right.” Turning around, she marched back to the front of the lot. “This one,” she said at last, pointing to a slim, seven-foot-tall pine.

He tilted his head to one side. “That one? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Later, as they stood by the cash register and Eric paid too much for a tree that they didn't actually need, Beverly said, “Eric, how are we going to get this tree home? You've got a small car just like that couple over there. And, um, I fear I'm not quite tall enough to help you tie it on the roof.”

“You don't need to worry about that. We're going to get it delivered.”

“They do that?”

He pointed to the sign. “Looks like it.”

Somewhat embarrassed, she noticed that there was, indeed, a sign that said that delivery was available. “That is a
gut
idea.”

“I thought so, too.” After he paid the men and set up a time for delivery, he turned to her. “Now, it's time to go get lights and ribbon.”

“I suppose it is,” she said with a laugh.

He opened her car door to let her in. Then, after he got settled in the driver's side, he turned right onto the street. Minutes later, they had left the quaint buildings of Pinecraft and were in the traffic of Sarasota. She, of course, was familiar with the area though she didn't drive.

“The traffic has already started to get worse,” she commented as she eyed the cars slowly easing through the intersection and
the bicyclists maneuvering in and out of traffic. “By January first or second, no one will want to drive if they don't have to. The streets get so congested with automobiles and bicycling tourists, it takes twice as long to get anywhere.”

“That's the consequence of living someplace so beautiful, I guess.”

She nodded and leaned back in her seat, realizing as she did so that she now felt completely comfortable around Eric. She didn't worry about what to say to him, or how he might react to different situations. Actually, more than anything, she trusted him. She was so grateful to have him as her friend.

“Have I told you how glad I am that you came here?”

“You have, and I've also told you that I was happy to come.”

“You took the first flight here. I don't even want to think about how much that cost.”

“I don't want you to worry about that. Every penny I spent was well worth it.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Beverly, don't you realize that I didn't want to be anywhere else? I hated the thought of you being in the inn alone and scared.”

His words meant so much to her. Although they sometimes had their rocky moments, it was nice to know that her instincts had been right. Eric was a man she could completely depend on. Even when she was grumpy or scared or, well, being silly. No matter what she did or what her mood, he was there for her.

She sincerely hoped that he felt the same way about her.

“Do you have any family or friends back in Philadelphia who are upset that you left so abruptly?” she asked. The question was blunt—and maybe none of her business—but she was eager to move the conversation on. “Will they be disappointed that you
won't be there for Christmas?” Of course, the moment she asked such things, she wished she could take them back. She sounded vaguely callous. Almost insinuating that she would be surprised if he had family and friends who cared about him. “Sorry if that came out wrong,” she said quickly. “I didn't mean to sound like—”

“I know what you meant.” As he stopped at a traffic light, he looked her way. “Mind if I ask why you want to know?”

She realized that she'd struck a nerve. His question had struck one, too, and it made her come to terms with her feelings for him. Eric meant more to her every day. “I guess I want to know more about you,” she said hesitantly. “If that's okay.”

“You can ask me anything you want,” he said as the light turned green and he accelerated the car forward.

“Ah, here we go,” he murmured as they came upon a big retailer that sold pretty much anything one might need. He clicked on his turning signal and moved to the right lane. “To answer your question, no, there's not really anyone in Philly who is going to be that upset that I won't be spending Christmas with them.”

“What about Jack? What is he doing for Christmas?”

“I'm not sure . . .”

“Would he like to come here?” Feeling happy that she could push him a little, she said, “You should ask him, Eric. I would enjoy getting to know your brother.”

He winced. “Believe it or not, I did ask him yesterday when I was at the Cozy Café.” After a pause, he added, “I should have talked to you first. I'm sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I'm glad you asked him.” She smiled,
wanting Eric to see that she really was happy he'd reached out to his brother. “No one should be alone for Christmas.”

To her surprise, Eric still looked a little hesitant. “Beverly, don't forget that Jack has some regrets about this past, too.”

She swallowed, remembering. However, although she recalled every bit of Eric's past, she couldn't remember the particulars of his brother's story. “What does he regret?”

“A lot of things, but most of all, for going to prison for robbery.”

“He went to prison . . . for robbery.” She clenched her hands together in an attempt to maintain her composure. “I see.”

“He's not dangerous or anything, Bev,” Eric said quickly. “I promise, I would never put you in danger. Gosh, I wouldn't want him anywhere around you if I was worried about that. But you do need to know that, well . . . he made some mistakes and he paid the price.”

She realized then that Eric was giving her a way out. Though it was clear that he wanted Jack to visit, Beverly knew if she told him that she couldn't handle having an ex-convict at the inn he would abide her wishes. However, the expression on his face told her everything she needed to know. He loved his brother and he wanted to see him.

And because of that, she needed to overcome her prejudices and welcome Jack into her home. “We all have a past, Eric,” she said, realizing with some surprise that it was just as true for her. “Everything will be fine.”

“You can think about it . . .”

“
Nee
, if you want him here, then I do, too.”

“I just want you to be happy, Bev.”

Giving into impulse, she reached out and squeezed his arm. “I will be. So, is he for sure coming? Do you know what day he's going to arrive?”

“I don't know if he's actually coming or not. He said he wanted a couple of days to think about it.”

She was having a hard time reading Eric. “I'm sorry. Are you worried that he might say yes or he might say no?”

“You know what? I'm not actually sure.” Lowering his voice, he said, “There's so much bad between us, you know? Whenever I see him, it seems like everything I've spent my adulthood pretending never happened comes back in a flash. I think it's that way for him, too.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Five years ago.”

“It sounds like it's time, then. I hope he says he'll come. But if he does, he's going to have to share the attic room with ya.”

He grinned. “It's going to be awkward, but he can share my Barbie Dream House with me, no problem.”

“I have no idea what a Barbie Dream House is.”

“I can remedy that, Bev,” he said as they pulled into the supercenter's crowded parking lot. “Come on. We'll go get lights and ribbon for our beautiful tree. And while we're wandering around, I'll take you by the toy section and show you what is usually at the top of every little girl's list to Santa.”

“It's that special?”

“It is when you're five or six years old. I don't know a lot, but I can promise you that.”

She giggled. “Lead on, Eric.”

At nine thirty the next morning, after helping Beverly serve breakfast and clear the table, Eric got yet another cup of coffee, his iPad, and phone, and walked out to the back patio, his favorite spot to relax.

Beverly popped her head out after him. “Are you going to call Jack?”

“Yep. I want to call before we get busy with the tree.”

After Beverly's tree had arrived yesterday, they'd moved around furniture and placed it in the inn's left front window. Eric had been eager to string lights on it and see how it looked, but when he'd noticed how Beverly kept moving it around, fingering the boughs, and generally looking like she was coming to terms with the fact that she had a Christmas tree now sitting in her living room, he'd suggested that they wait a day before decorating it.

As he'd hoped, at the mention of the tree, her eyes lit up. “Take your time, Eric. And don't worry. Jack will say yes.”

Eric didn't want to say anything to Beverly, but he was actually kind of afraid of that.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his brother—he did—he just didn't want to revisit their past all over again. Every time they did that, Jack ended up talking about his years in prison and Eric inevitably felt guilty. Soon after, they usually started talking about their parents and how they'd lost both of them far too early. Which, of course, brought forth yet another set of studiously repressed emotions.

Staring at his cell phone, Eric wondered if it was truly possible to forge a new relationship with a long-lost brother.

There was only one way to find out.

He thumbed through his contacts and pressed Send.

Jack answered on the first ring. “You didn't waste any time, huh?”

“I guess not. Actually, I was telling Beverly yesterday that I asked you to come out here.”

“What did she say?”

“I think she's even more hopeful that you'll accept my invitation than I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. So, have you looked at your work schedule?”