Twelve Dates of Christmas: The Ballad of Lula Jo (Lonesome Point) (5 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Lula

Lula woke Sunday—the one day she didn’t open the tea shop until noon—and rolled over in bed, feeling like she was six years old on Christmas morning. For a moment she couldn’t remember why she was so excited, then memories of last night with Carter came rushing back.

She jumped out of bed and dashed into the living room, peering through the curtains at the hotel across the street, wondering which room was his.

Watch it, crazy. It was just a night spent catching up with an old friend. His story is a tough one, true, but he brought most of it on himself. And he still spent six years gallivanting around the globe, not sparing you a second thought.

Lula wrinkled her nose. She had no intention of getting involved with Carter. She was too practical for romance anymore. But it was nice to have something different going on for a change. She’d fallen into such a rigid routine. There was no spontaneity in her life anymore. This was the first time in a long time she’d woken up excited to get out of bed.

And Carter was the reason why.

It made her heart soften toward him even before she went downstairs to get coffee and found a letter slipped under the front door:

Good morning, beautiful L.J.,

Thank you for the amazing night. I won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

I know we said we’d meet after you close the shop for the day, but if you’re up early, come over to the hotel restaurant. I have a surprise I think you might find interesting.

Hoping to see you sooner rather than later,

Carter

For a moment Lula thought about going back upstairs, making her coffee, and continuing with her Sunday morning ritual of painting doll faces while listening to Prairie Home Companion. But then she dismissed that idea as No Fun with a capital N and F and ran back upstairs to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later she was practically skipping across the street, earning a hard look from her elderly neighbor, Birdie Blythe, who was out on the front stoop of her shop, sweeping dust into the street. Lula waved and wished Birdie a good morning, before forcing herself to continue sedately up the stairs and into the hotel. Giddy as a schoolgirl or not, she had to live in Lonesome Point after Carter was gone, and it wouldn’t do to make a fool out of herself.

The thought of Carter leaving sent a pang through her chest, but she pushed the feeling away. They’d agreed not to think about the big picture for twelve days and she intended to abide by the agreement. Not only did she put great stock in honoring her word, but thinking too much would only lead to emotions she wasn’t prepared for.

She wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure if she let herself dwell on how wonderful it had been to spend time with Carter last night, how perfect his lips had felt on her skin during that whisper of a kiss, or how much she wanted to believe his feelings for her were real and not a side effect of post-traumatic stress or a response to losing his father so recently.

It was safer, and saner, for her to live in the moment.

When she edged into the brightly lit dining room of the Blue Saloon’s newly opened restaurant, she was grateful that she’d made the low-stress decision. Otherwise, the sight of Carter sitting across the table from Bear Mason might have given her a heart attack.

Bear, Lula’s former rock-climbing teacher, was a gentle giant with shaggy blond hair, an almost cartoonishly firm jaw, and blue eyes that confessed all his tender-hearted secrets. He was as sweet as they came and wouldn’t crush a bug underfoot if he could help it, but Lula had called off their lessons shortly after Carter left town.

Bear had made it clear he was interested in filling Carter’s shoes, but Lula hadn’t been ready to let anyone into her heart. She’d stopped showing up for their evening climbs, refused to return Bear’s phone calls, and hadn’t darkened the door of the hardware store where he worked ever since. If she needed nails or brackets for new shelves, she ordered them online—even now, years after the afternoon he’d tried to kiss her.

Lula’s pace toward Carter and Bear’s table slowed. Had she really been clinging to that old awkwardness for so long? Yes, it had been an uncomfortable situation, but it was just a kiss. And it was years in the past. She should have let it go long ago and stopped rearranging her life to avoid a man who had once been a good friend.

It made her wonder what else she was clinging to that would be better off left in the past…

“Hey, there you are!” Carter’s handsome face lit up as he spotted her across the room. He stood, pulling out the chair between his and Bear’s. “Come on over and have some coffee.”

Lula forced a smile as she reached the table and allowed Carter to scoot her chair in beneath her. “Hi, Bear, how are you?” Her pulse picked up as she turned to the other man.

But there was only kindness in Bear’s blue eyes. “I’m great, Lula. Glad you could join us.” He looked genuinely pleased to see her. There wasn’t a whiff of tension in the air, making Lula feel even sillier than she had a moment before.

“Bear and I were just catching up,” Carter said, reclaiming his seat. “He said he could loan us equipment to go climbing later this week. What do you think? You up for a climb? Maybe Tuesday after work? I think we’re supposed to get a break from the cold weather.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lula said, the thought making her anxious. “I’m so out of shape. I haven’t been climbing in years.”

“We could start with something easy, maybe the south side of the butte near Old Town.” Carter turned to Bear. “What do you think? Is that still a safe climb?”

Bear nodded as he devoured a strip of bacon in two chomps of his strong jaws. “Yeah, that’s a good one. There’s been some erosion since you left, but it’s still solid. Or you two could do the cliffs on my parents’ property. That’s where I’m taking my newbies these days.” He turned to Lula with raised brows. “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Lula said, pausing to thank the waitress who had stopped to pour her a cup of coffee. “I’ll probably be worse than when I was a newbie. The most strenuous activity I’ve been up to for the past few years is carrying plates of dirty dishes to the kitchen.”

“You’ll get in shape fast,” Bear assured her kindly. “You skinny ones snap back quick. It’s the big lugs like me that have a hard time dragging our butts up a mountain if we sit out too long.”

Lula ordered a boiled egg and toast and ate while Bear and Carter compared climbing stories. She nodded and smiled at the appropriate times, but she had no stories of her own to share. Not only had she not been climbing since shortly after Carter left, but she’d also gradually stopped hiking the desert trails they’d loved, given up horseback riding with her cousins, and backed out of camping trips with her extended family. Bit by bit, her life had narrowed to her shop, her apartment, and her hobbies, with moments of forced fun when she felt obligated to host a party or book club event.

As she sat listening to stories of Bear’s New Mexico adventures and Carter’s harrowing expedition in the Alps, she realized she’d barely left her house or shop in close to four years. She was more than a hermit; she was a shut-in.

No, she was a
shut-out
.

She’d shut out life without realizing it. After Aunt Louise’s death, Lula had been committed to staying on the straight and narrow. But instead she’d put herself in a straightjacket.

The thought made her throat tighten and her hands shake, as she added “climbing with Carter” to her calendar for late Tuesday afternoon and fought Carter and Bear for the breakfast check.

She was still shaken when Carter walked her across the street to the shop, so thrown by the sudden, sobering perspective on her life that she didn’t want to go inside. The cozy shop that had been her refuge just this morning now seemed like a prison, a trap that would suck her in and never let her go.

“What’s wrong?” Carter asked, his hand resting on her lower back as she worked the key into the door. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Lula shook her head, not knowing what to say. Carter wouldn’t understand. After all, he hadn’t stuck around to suffer the aftermath of what they’d done. He probably didn’t even know that Aunt Louise was dead.

“Louise died,” she blurted out, before she could think better of it. “Aunt Louise, the one with the gnomes.”

“What? When?” Carter asked, his brow knitting in sympathy.

“The night we stole the statues from her yard,” Lula whispered, swallowing against the lump rising in her throat. “She had a heart attack on her porch and died on the way to the hospital. Her funeral was a few days after you left town. And that’s why I don’t have any Christmas gnomes, just normal ones,” she babbled on, her voice growing increasingly strained. “I always loved those stupid things and wanted to honor Louise’s memory by getting a gnome or two every year, the way she used to, but the Christmas ones just make me want to cry.”

“Oh, Lula…” Carter reached out, pulling her into his arms.

But she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. She didn’t deserve comfort and neither did he. “We killed her,” she said. “We killed my aunt with some stupid prank, and that’s why I am the way I am. That’s why I’ve made the decisions I’ve made and become this pathetic person I’ve become.”

Carter scowled and his eyes hardened. “Hold on a second. We didn’t kill anyone, and you’re not pathetic.”

“Yes, we did. And yes, I am,” she said, fighting the tears pressing at her eyes. “You don’t know me anymore, but the people in this town do. Go ask around and learn the truth. Then see if you still want to spend time with an old stick-in-the-mud like me.”

Lula wrenched the door open and slammed inside, flipping the lock behind her and ignoring Carter’s call for her to come back. She pounded up the stairs to her apartment, tears streaming down her cheeks.

In truth, she’d mostly forgiven herself for Aunt Louise—she hadn’t meant any harm or realized her aunt’s health was so fragile, or she never would have laid a finger on Louise’s gnomes. So that wasn’t
really
why she was upset. She didn’t know exactly what or who to blame. She only knew that she felt miserable and deflated, like a balloon lying in a sad rubber puddle on the floor.

When she closed the door behind her at the top of the stairs and turned to face her reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall, the sight of her tear-streaked face was strangely surreal. She stepped closer to the pale, fragile-looking woman in the glass, feeling like she was seeing herself clearly for the first time in years.

When had her cheeks grown so thin? When had she started dressing in over-sized clothes that hung shapelessly on her body? When was the last time she’d cut her hair or done anything just for the sake of feeling pretty and proud of the way she looked?

She’d been treating her body like an old car she used to get from place to place but didn’t truly care whether it lived or died or if she vacuumed the old peanut shells off the floorboards. She’d been ignoring the aches and pains that had crept into her bones as she stopped exercising and started spending long hours hunched over her crafting table. She’d turned a blind eye when her split ends grew split ends and pretended she didn’t notice the frown beginning to crease the center of her forehead.

Looking at her reflection now, she saw a woman at a crossroads. Down one road lay more long nights alone, more hunching in her shoulders and hollowing in her cheeks, and the early old age she’d taken as a matter of fact just a few days ago. But down the other road…

She didn’t know what lay down the other road, and that was the reason she’d pushed Carter away and locked the door behind her. She was terrified of that other road, terrified of the uncertainty and the risk, and what would happen if she let herself believe in second chances.

But maybe, she thought as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, she was even more scared of the road she had already been traveling: the one with so little love or laughter, with no one who wanted to hold her close or banish the shadows from her heart.

CHAPTER SIX

Carter

Day two of the twelve days of Lula and Carter was an epic failure.

Carter waited on Tea for Two’s front stoop for more than an hour, but the noon opening time came and went, and the shop remained dark. Lula didn’t come downstairs or answer his calls. Finally, a little after one, he admitted defeat and returned to his hotel room.

He continued to call the shop line all day—cursing himself for not getting Lula’s cell number—but every call went to voicemail. Lula was avoiding him. Under normal circumstances, he would have given her some space for a day or two before trying to resume contact, but he only had twelve days.

Besides, he hadn’t liked the look in her eyes when she’d left him on the front porch. He was worried about her. So come six o’clock, when he stepped into the early winter darkness to see all the lights in Lula’s shop and apartment still dim, he decided to reach out to her cousin, who Lula had said owned a lingerie shop just down the street.

Lavender and Lace was closed when Carter arrived, but the lights were on, and when he rang the bell, Mia appeared at the front door almost immediately.