Christmas Comes to Main Street (20 page)

“Oh, I can't enter. I have to help my mom with something at the dance studio for a little bit.
Nutcracker
emergency,” Molly groaned by explanation, quickly taking over while Kara all but melted with embarrassment. She stole a glance at Nate, but other than the mirth in his eyes, he showed no reaction to the six-year-old's summary of Kara's lackluster dating life.

“Just so you know,” she whispered, “I might have entered alone last year, but I did come in third place.”

“Oh, I have no doubt in your abilities,” Nate replied evenly as he set his hand on the small of her back and led her onto the patch of snow reserved for the contest.

“Do we have a particular theme in mind?” Kara asked, eyeing the timer. She knew from past experience they had half an hour, and noticing that other teams had already worked out their strategy and were beginning construction, she was eager to get started.

“Now you sound like my aunt.” Nate snorted. He bent down and began packing the snow into a ball. “Let's figure it out as we go along.”

Kara followed his lead, but she watched him quizzically. “Somehow I never took you for the laid-back type.”

“You can't plan creativity. Takes all the fun out of things.”

Kara patted the large ball they had quickly formed into place. “Fair enough.” She waited until they were finished with the middle layer to broach the topic again. “You like working with your hands; I can tell.”

“It's therapeutic,” Nate agreed. “You should know.”

“Oh, I do,” Kara remarked. “I'm lucky to love what I do.”

A line formed between Nate's brow, but he just lifted the snowball into place and motioned her closer. “Come on, last one. Let's show them all what we can do.”

“Oh.” Kara looked over at Jane, Henry, and Sophie, who were hard at work on a rather sad-looking snowman, given that Sophie was doing most of the work, laughing in delight through most of it. “We don't really need to win; it's just for fun.”

Nate stopped rolling. “That's no fun at all. What's the point?”

“The experience,” Kara said, feeling uneasy. “It's something to do. Something… festive.”

“So is sitting around drinking eggnog. Why bother entering the contest if you aren't going to give it your all?”

Kara held back as Nate set the snowman's head on top of the two larger balls and began carving what he said would be a top hat made of snow. It was an original idea, and one Kara was impressed by as she watched him work, but she couldn't stop glancing at Jane and her daughter, thinking of how much it would mean for Sophie to take home that blue ribbon and how terrible she would feel to rob a child of that experience.

“I just think… it might mean more to other people…” She gave a pointed glance in Sophie's direction, but Nate just shifted his gaze, looked at her, and shrugged.

“She has two adults helping. No doubt they're in it to win it. What's wrong with a little healthy competition?”

“But it's a child,” Kara replied, feeling her temper rise.

“But then why bother entering?” Nate retorted. Though his tone was good-natured and his grin was friendly, there was something in his eyes that told her he wasn't going to come around to her view on this.

Kara shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the shift in their exchange. She'd thought it would be fun, maybe even a little romantic to build a snowman together, laugh at their efforts. But Nate was a fighter. He put his all into everything. Even a silly contest.

Her gut churned when she thought of the Holiday House contest. Entrants made a big effort, but if Nate was this determined, there really might not be a chance for her at all.

“Look,” Nate said, softening his tone. “I don't need to do the top hat. It was just an idea, and I thought it might give us an edge. But you make a point.” He glanced around at the other entrants. “Let's just shoot for second place.”

Kara nodded, but her heart felt heavy as they finished the contest. Even though they toned down their efforts, there was no denying they'd made the best snowman of the group, even though Jane and Henry had stepped in and helped Sophie out quite a bit. Ivy and Brett's was given a hat made from flowers and a beautiful scarf from pine garland, while Grace—usually a competitor—was too busy laughing with Luke to try so hard this year.

And Anna and Mark's… well, they should probably stick with cooking.

“What the heck happened?” Brett laughed, coming over to pick up the broken branch that was supposed to be their snowman's arm.

Mark raised an eyebrow at his brother, unimpressed. “Snow was never my medium.”

“We make a pretty good team,” Nate whispered in Kara's ear as he came to stand close to her.

Team. That they did, Kara thought, looking at their perfectly symmetrical snowman, the classic, jolly expression it wore. Nate was a good person to have on your team, but when it came to being a competitor, she wasn't so sure.

Sophie's royal princess snowgirl (a yearly tradition that she never seemed to tire of) was awarded first place, and sure enough, Kara and Nate's was given a second-place finish.

“What do you say we have some mulled wine to celebrate?” Nate asked, grinning down at her as the group dispersed.

Kara shoved her hands in her pockets and watched her feet sink deeper into the snow with each step. A part of her wanted to say yes, of course, that she couldn't think of a more perfect way to spend the rest of the day. She hesitated, thinking of the kiss, of how his mouth had felt on hers, and a tingle ripped down her spine at the thought of his arms around her again. Their time together was fleeting; she should be making the most of it. Or maybe she should be making the most of her opportunity to secure a better future for herself and her bakery. After all, in a week Nate would be gone, but life would continue on.

She looked up at his eyes, feeling torn. Kathleen Madison might win the contest every year, but from what she'd seen and heard today, Nate wasn't going to make it easy for her. Or for Kara.

“I should probably get back to the bakery,” Kara said wearily, pulling in a long breath. There, it was out. She'd made her choice.

“But I thought you were closed for the day?”

Kara chewed on her lip, watching her feet leave imprints in the snow, a trail right beside Nate's own footprints. Still, she stayed firm, thinking of January, of the unknown, of how much she wanted to do right by her father and all he'd ever done for her. She owed him that much, no matter how easy it would have been to procrastinate, to spend the day with Nate… “I am, but I still have a lot of custom orders to take care of. Christmas week and all, and tomorrow night's
The
Nutcracker
.”

“Oh, yes.
The Nutcracker
. I'll see you there, then? If not before?” She knew he was referring to the cookies for high tea, but the quirk of his mouth suggested something more.

Kara nodded mutely, taking another step away from him. She needed air. She needed to clear her head. She needed to stop looking into those warm, deep eyes long enough to remember what was at stake and what she stood to lose. Her heart. And so much more.

N
ate heard the shuffle of his aunt's footsteps outside his door, only this time he didn't need to hurry up and put on a robe. He'd been up for over an hour, since before the light had peeked over the Green Mountains, when his aunt was no doubt busy warming her peppermint scones and grinding coffee. He'd finally charged his phone, only to listen to it ping from daybreak on. Work emails had begun to pile up, and if he didn't start clearing out his inbox, he'd be in for a mess next week.

Next week. Briar Creek felt like a different world than the life he lived in Boston. A more idyllic, peaceful, even happier life.

He brushed that thought away as he clicked on the next email, skimming it while mentally composing his reply. No doubt he'd be saying the same thing if he'd joined his parents on their cruise. He'd taken a break from his responsibilities. It couldn't last forever.

Even if a little part of him sort of wished it could.

This time his aunt knocked before trying the knob. “Are you decent?” she called out.

“And if I wasn't?” He couldn't hide the amusement in his expression when his aunt's head poked around the frame and gave him a mock menacing stare.

“Oh, what am I going to do without you? You've certainly brightened my Christmas, Nate. I hope you're having a bit of fun on your stay.” She closed the door behind herself and settled in at the empty armchair opposite his own.

Nate closed his laptop and set it on the end table. “I have had fun. I can see why you love this town so much.”

Maggie's face lit up. “Can you? Oh, Nate, I was hoping you would feel this way!”

Taken aback by the joy in her reaction, Nate frowned. “I think I'll plan another visit for the summer,” he said, hoping that would curb the guilt he felt for not having visited sooner. “And who knows, maybe next Christmas we'll all come. Me and my parents. I think they'd like that a lot,” he added pensively. His dad always got a little quiet around Christmas, even now, and he struggled with his emotions when Nate gave them gifts—always one special thing, never so much that it looked like charity. But his mother… Nate knew that his mother had always loved Christmas. Always tried to make it special, even when it wasn't. It meant so much to her…

He thought of Kara, of how her eyes danced and then welled when she spoke of Christmases past. Bittersweet, he thought, wondering if he'd ever be able to get to the same place with the holiday.

“Next summer. I see.” His aunt nodded slowly and stared at her hands in her lap. “Here I thought…”

Nate leaned forward. “Thought what?”

His aunt brushed a hand through the air, but she wouldn't meet his eye. “It's nothing. You'll visit in the summer. I'd like that.”

Something was wrong, and Nate wasn't going to back down until she told him what. “Aunt Maggie. I can tell that something's wrong. What is it?”

“It's silly,” she said, twisting the wedding ring she still wore.

“Try me,” he said gently.

“Yesterday at the festival, you were asking about the contest and why it meant so much. You know how much this inn means to me.”

“It's your legacy,” he commented.

Her green eyes were clear when they lifted to his. “Exactly. And who do I have to leave it to?”

Nate squared his jaw, considering her words and hating the truth he heard in them. She'd never had children. He was her only nephew.

“Wait. Were you—”

“I just thought, if you helped with the contest, if you really got into the spirit of things, and if you saw what a wonderful place Briar Creek was, that you might…” She gave a watery smile. “I can't run this place forever. And I can't bear to give it up.”

“Oh, Aunt Maggie.” Nate sighed.

“I told you I was being silly.” She leaned over and patted him on the cheek. “You sure did give an old lady a Christmas to remember. And we did have fun with the contest, didn't we?”

He nodded once. “We did.”

“And who knows, we might win. You know I'll split the earnings.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “You certainly will not. It was fun, you're right. And Briar Creek is a charming town. It's just—”

“Your life is in Boston,” she finished for him. “I know.” She huffed out a breath and folded her hands in her lap. “I've asked enough of you.” She glanced at her watch, her brows shooting up. “My, I should hurry. I just came in to give you a wake-up call and look at me, getting all emotional at this time of day!”

She stood to leave, all at once the cheery innkeeper, boasting about her Christmas blend of coffee topped with cinnamon whipped cream and those peppermint scones he really must try. Nate watched her go with the promise of being down in a few minutes, but it took him several more than that to decide how to process what he'd just learned.

He would have loved to have given her the one thing she wanted more than anything this Christmas, but for now, he'd do what he could.

Kara knocked on Kathleen Madison's door at exactly five o'clock, and she couldn't resist a peek through the windows that framed it as she waited for this evening's hostess to let her in from the cold. As she'd been told, the walls of the Victorian were now a beautiful shade of ivory, and the banister was wrapped in a frosted white noble fir garland, frocked with white. Fairy lights were wrapped around it, as well as the garland that framed every archway.

She'd thought the exterior to be impressive enough, with the twinkling lights and pristine wreaths that hung from every window by a thick ivory velvet ribbon, but as the door swung open and her friends' mother greeted her with a warm smile, Kara felt her breath fade away.

“Kathleen,” she muttered, looking this way and that. “This is… stunning.”

She couldn't decide where to look first. The entire house seemed to glow.

“Oh, just a little makeover. Keeps me busy.” Kathleen helped Kara to shrug her coat from her shoulders. “I heard you were entering the Holiday House contest yourself.”

Kara grimaced, her entry suddenly feeling amateur compared to this professional effort. “Oh, I'm just making a gingerbread house.”

“Just a gingerbread house?” Kathleen shook her head. “Sounds impressive to me, dear. Most people couldn't bake something that stands straight enough to hold a roof, much less something on a scale large enough to enter a contest.”

Kara had to agree. Her gingerbread houses had been a success, and her entry was by far her finest effort yet. “I'm proud of it.”

“As you should be. I can't wait to see what you've created.”

Kara clutched her paper bags of cookie boxes, feeling excited again about her entry, until she turned the corner into the dining room, where her eyes all but dismissed the cookie table set up for tonight's cookie swap and went straight to the hearth, the mirror, the ivory satin curtains that extended from ceiling to floor. And… was that a new couch in the living room?

Sensing her thought, Kathleen said, “Reupholstered. It needed freshening up.”

Kara struggled to find words as she dipped her hand into her paper shopping bag to pull out her first cookie box. As soon as she popped the lid to plate them, she saw they were her snowflake cookies, and all at once her thoughts went from worries about the Holiday House contest to worries about Nate. The one who had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

He hadn't been at the inn when she'd stopped by today—his aunt had said he'd gone out on an errand. Kara had been a bit relieved, but a bit disappointed, too. Without the chance to see him today, that left only tomorrow, and the day after was already Christmas Eve.

“Are those the cookies you make for tea at the inn?” Grace said, coming to admire them.

“The very same,” Kara said. “How did you know?”

“I had tea there today with my mother and Anna. Anna couldn't stop praising them. I think she's hoping for the recipe… if you're wondering what to get her for Christmas.” Grace winked.

At the mention of gifts, Kara felt her stomach knot. “Do you know if Molly has gotten my mother anything yet?”

Grace blanched. “I was hoping the three of you would have figured that out. I told Luke he had to ask her directly this year, but do you know what she told him she wanted? Other than a grandchild, of course.” She rolled her eyes.

“What?” Kara asked so eagerly that several women turned to stare.

Grace gave her a pointed look. “Dish towels.”

Kara felt her expression fall along with her hope. “Please tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. Burnt-orange dish towels to match the flecks in her granite counters. Do you know how hard it is to find that color at Christmastime? Why couldn't she have told us back in the fall, before everything turned red and green?”

“And white.” Kara looked around the beautiful room once more. “I think your mother's going to win again this year.” Though she smiled, her heart felt more than a little heavy.

Grace looked nonplussed. “Well, she's outdone herself. Again.” She reached over to take a cookie, but Anna appeared, slapping it away.

“You can't eat them just yet. They're for the swap.”

“Well, I didn't know there wouldn't be any food at this party. It's a cookie party!”

Kara laughed. “I see the plates of food on the coffee table,” she said, motioning to the equally stunning adjacent living room. “And there's even some cookies.”

“Oh good.” Grace grinned and went off to join Molly and Jane, who were already deep in conversation with Ivy. No doubt discussing wedding plans, Kara thought a little sadly.

“So,” Anna said with interest. “Business seems to be going well!”

Despite the warmth in her friend's smile, Kara felt herself wilt with unease. “It is,” she said a little hesitantly. Anna and Mark had a well-oiled machine thanks to the hard work and hours they put in. Had they ever struggled as she did, or slipped up and forgot to offer things like… beverages to customers? Probably not.

“Give it time,” Anna encouraged. “When I first opened the café, I didn't sleep for an entire year. But when something means a lot to you, you find a way to make it work.” Her smile turned a little shy.

“Like you and Mark?” Kara asked.

“That's one example,” Anna said, laughing. “Now tell me, what's up with you and Mrs. Griffin's nephew?”

Kara stiffened. “Nate? Oh, nothing. We're just… friends.”

Anna shrugged and helped Kara to plate another box of cookies. “Well, he asked about you today when I stopped by for high tea.”

“He did?” Despite her reservations, Kara felt her pulse begin to race.

Anna's expression was deadpan, but her blue eyes twinkled. “I thought you two were just friends?”

Kara swatted at her friend. “It doesn't matter what we are.” She sighed. Or what they might have been. “He lives in Boston.”

“So?” Anna took the empty bags from her hands. “As I said, if something means a lot, you find a way to make it work.”

Truer words had never been spoken, Kara knew, but that was easy for Anna to say. She and Mark had a history, a shared goal of opening a restaurant, and they both lived in Briar Creek. Kara didn't have half those things on her side. Besides, Nate had proven that when he wanted something, he didn't back down—and his job, and the life he'd earned for himself back in Boston, clearly meant a lot to him. How could she compete with that?

Helping herself to a glass of sparkling wine, Kara followed Anna into the living room, where she greeted Ivy and Jane. As expected, Ivy and Molly were deeply engrossed in a conversation about their wedding plans, and Molly was offering up some back issues of her magazine for new ideas. Kara tried to smile politely, but as the conversation went on, and then Anna joined in, followed by Jane and Grace, who spoke from experience, she felt her heart begin to sink.

She'd always prided herself on standing on her own, not needing someone, just hoping to find someone, but the longer this conversation went on, just like the more time that passed, she felt more and more left out. Wouldn't it be fun to join in, talk about centerpieces and party favors and the perfect song for the first dance?

“I actually have something to tell you girls,” Anna said, smiling mysteriously as she glanced at her sisters, Grace and Jane.

“Sounds like big news!” Ivy leaned in eagerly.

“It is. Mark and I finally set a date.” Anna's smile was so broad, Kara couldn't help but put aside her own self-pity and get swept up in the excitement.

“That's wonderful!” she cried. “When?”

“New Year's Eve,” Anna said.

“Oh, good choice. And you'll have a whole year to plan,” Ivy said knowingly.

“No, not next year, this year,” Anna corrected.

Kara glanced at Ivy, whose look of bewilderment matched her own. “But… that's only a week and a half away!”

“I know,” Anna said happily.

“But… how long have you been planning this?” Ivy pressed. Ivy had been planning her wedding since the fall, and Kara knew she still had several details to iron out.

“Since yesterday,” Anna said, laughing. “We've put it off long enough, and it's the holidays. Seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

“Are you going on a honeymoon?” Kara's voice felt strained. When she'd finally worked up the courage to leave her job at the restaurant, she'd worried what impact it would have on her cousin and friend. Mark and Anna put endless hours into Rosemary and Thyme—they were hardly in a position to take a step away, especially without a full staff.

Kara felt the familiar weight of guilt take hold again, and she pressed a hand to her stomach to settle herself. Now, with the bakery, she understood more than ever just what kind of pressure Anna must be under with the restaurant, especially given its success.