A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6) (4 page)

So that’s what she was doing.

“If you’re heading downtown,” Finn said, “maybe I could walk with you and your son? I hear Main Street is very picturesque.”

The invitation surprised her. She’d had the distinct impression that he disapproved of her for some unknown reason. Maybe she’d misread him. She was about to tell him sure, when Mable Bramble stepped in front of her, brandishing a small, silver-framed portrait.

“Look at this,” she insisted. “This is my great-grandmother, May Bell Bramble.”

Willa took the small ornament in her hands. During their tour of the B&B last night, Eliza had pointed out the Bramble Family Christmas tree in the sitting room. This looked like one of the ornaments that had been hanging from its branches.

The woman in the black and white photo was unsmiling, but handsome. She was posed with her chin resting on her left hand.

And there it was. Plain as day.

Willa’s spine tingled eerily. The ring on this woman’s finger was an exact replica of the one Greg Conrad had given her.

D
uring breakfast Finn’s phone had vibrated continually with text messages from his mother and younger sister Berneen. In his room he finally had a chance to read them.

Finn didn’t answer any of them. He was pissed off. What did they expect, that he would be able to drag the truth out of Willa Fairchild the moment he met her? If only it could be that easy. But if she had somehow taken advantage of their father, the minute she found out he was Greg Conrad’s son, she would undoubtedly clam up.

Then not only would Finn never know what had possessed his father to leave her so much money—
plus
the ring, but he would also lose his chance to talk to the person who had been with his father when he died.

He knew Molly and Keelin also felt guilty about not being there for their dad. Not just at the time of his death, but for the entire two years since he’d moved to Phoenix after the divorce.

But their father had made so few demands on them. And whenever Finn talked to him on the phone, he sounded so happy. He had buddies to golf with, spare time for his woodworking. “And I love the climate,” his dad had said, almost every time Finn called. “After thirty-five years in Seattle, I don’t miss the rain one bit.”

Unsaid, but probably equally true, was the fact that after thirty-five years of being nagged and complained at, he didn’t miss his ex-wife one bit either.

Finn’s mother, however, was another story.

Her divorce had not freed her, as it had done for his father. It had unhinged her.

No matter how often Finn called, it was never enough. And yet she always had exactly the same things to say during every one of their conversations. Their father had deserted her. He probably had another woman “stashed away somewhere.” She’d given him her best years, and for what?

The tirade had only ended with his father’s death. At which time his mother had become obsessed with this nurse who’d been left such an inappropriate amount of money considering she’d known Greg Conrad for only six weeks.

The obvious conclusion was that the nurse had somehow conned or manipulated their dad when he was in a weak and vulnerable position.

But now that Finn had met Willa, he wasn’t convinced. She seemed like a kind and caring person—but there was something
not quite right
about her and her son.

Did it have something to do with her relationship with his father?

Finn was convinced he could only find the answers he needed in one way. By becoming her friend.

D
espite being bundled in their warm coats and mittens, Willa and Scout looked chilled to the bone as they walked along Court Street. Their hands were shoved deep into their pockets, and their shoulders were hunched under their jackets. It was only a few degrees below freezing. But he supposed if you were from Arizona, it would be a shock.

“I bet you’re sorry now you gave your scarf to Frosty.”

Willa laughed. “You read my mind. I was just thinking I should buy another one. And maybe a really warm sweater, as well.”

“I bet hot cocoa would warm us up,” Scout said helpfully.

“I hear the one they serve at the Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop is exceptional,” Finn said. “That was going to be my first stop.”

“Excellent idea. We can buy our Christmas Stroll buttons there, too.”

Willa glanced at him. Her eyes were bright and the cold had turned her lips a deep crimson. A flake of snow landed briefly on the tip of her nose, then melted. She had a very adorable nose.

If his father had fallen for this women, well, Finn couldn’t really blame him.

They walked by the library where a group of workers were busy stringing lights onto one of the stately evergreen trees that grew in the extensive grounds. The local fire truck was pulled up to one of the tallest of the trees, the ladder extended to reach the very top of what looked like a thirty-or forty-foot tree.

“Wow, I’d like to climb that ladder,” Scout said.

Alarm flashed in Willa’s eyes. “When you’re older, maybe you can be a fireman.”

“You mean if I don’t get into the NHL?”

“It’s good to have a back-up plan,” Finn agreed. “Do you play hockey in Phoenix?”

“Mom hasn’t even let me take skating lessons yet. But I’ve watched a lot of hockey games on TV. I think I’d be good at it.”

“We’ll get to the skating lessons.” Willa sighed. “Eventually.”

“I’ve heard there’s a skating pond around here. I could give Scout his first lesson.” The offer just seemed to spring out, before Finn had a chance to consider the wisdom of it. Learning a bit more about Willa was one thing. Fostering a friendship with her son, was another.

Yet he hadn’t had an ulterior motive in mind when he’d mentioned the skating lessons. So maybe it was okay.

As they made the right hand turn onto Main Street, suddenly the sidewalks were teeming with people. Right in front of them a man and two women in period dress straight out of a Charles Dickens’ novel, were singing
Let it Snow!

All three of them stopped to watch and listen. Automatically Finn reached for his Nikon. He photographed the carolers and then took shots up and down Main Street.

The pictures on the website hadn’t done the town justice. The solid fronts of nineteenth century western-style buildings were beautifully maintained, and all the business owners had gotten into the spirit and decorated for Christmas with sparkling lights and cedar wreaths.

When he turned to the west, he was able to get some shots of the stately courthouse, with snow-covered Copper Mountain rising behind it. He’d have to come back at sunrise one day. The lighting would be fantastic.

Turning around, he adjusted his camera until he had Willa and her son in the viewfinder. They’d strolled ahead to the toy store and had joined a group of children gazing wide-eyed at a front window display that was a simulation of Santa’s workshop, right down to a fake fireplace, and several busy elves apparently putting finishing touches on everything from a railway set to a beautiful porcelain doll.

Finn took shots. Dozens of them. Zooming in, he let Scout’s face fill the screen, catching the looks of awe in his widened eyes.

Then he turned the camera lens on Willa. She wasn’t looking at the toys, but at her son, with the oddest expression, somewhere between loving and sad. He was reminded of how the mother and son had appeared to him when they were building their snowman, earlier.

What was their story?

And what had happened to Scout’s dad? Neither one of them had mentioned the man, even though it was Christmas, a time when most fathers would want to spend time with their children.

Finn slipped his camera back into its case, then crossed the street just as Scout asked his mother if they could go inside the toy store.

“Maybe after we get some hot cocoa,” she suggested.

“The chocolate shop is two blocks down,” Finn said.

“Can I run?”

Again that look of caution flashed over Willa’s face, so fast Finn might have missed it, except that he’d noticed she often had this reaction when her son suggested anything on the boisterous side.

“Better not. It’s too crowded. You might knock someone over.”

Delicious smells wafted out of a tiny bakery next to the bank. A line-up had formed stretching out to the street. Things weren’t much better when they reached Copper Mountain Chocolates where they had to wait fifteen minutes to be served.

“My treat,” Finn insisted when it was time to pay. He took the cups from the server and passed them back to Willa and her son. The three of them lucked into chairs at a small table near the back of the shop.

“I hope this lives up to its rep,” Finn said. His first sip gave him his answer.

Willa sampled hers at the same time. Her eyebrows went up. “This is incredible. It’s like chocolate and whipped cream got married.”

“Add a hint of vanilla and maybe a tiny bit of cinnamon, and I think you’ve got it.” A tall, pretty woman, her thick, red hair braided over one shoulder, came up beside them. From her copper-colored apron it was clear that she worked here.

“Hi, I’m Sage. I’m sorry for the wait. I hope the cocoa is worth it.”

“It’s great,” Scout assured her, his serious demeanor at odds with the whipped cream mustache he was now sporting.

“Whew, glad to know I haven’t lost my touch. So where are you folks from?”

“Colorado,” Finn offered.

“My son and I are from Phoenix. We’re all staying at the Bramble Inn for the holidays.”

“How nice! My mother was a Bramble, so I know the B&B well. How are Aunt Mable and cousin Eliza treating you all?”

Before either Finn or Willa could answer, Scout piped up with, “Your Aunt Mable is kind of grouchy sometimes.”

“Scout!” Willa looked embarrassed.

“That’s okay.” Sage laughed. “When I was a kid I used to be scared when Mom took us to have tea with our great-aunt. She’s a throwback to another era, and very proud of the family’s English heritage. So, are the three of you going to participate in the lighting festival later? I notice you don’t have your Marietta Stroll buttons yet.”

“We meant to pick some up,” Willa said.

“Great.” Sage pulled three from one of the pockets in her apron. “Here you go. Maybe I’ll see you at the lighting ceremony. I’ll be there with my husband and our two children. Our eldest, Savannah, is about your age, Scout.”

“A girl?” Scout didn’t look impressed. “Do you have a boy?”

“Yes, but Braden is just a baby.”

“Well. Maybe I can play with Savannah, then.”

“I’ll introduce you,” Sage promised. Then she dipped her hand into a different pocket and pulled out a miniature chocolate Christmas tree. “Is it okay if I give this to your son?”

“That’s very kind.” Willa nodded to Scout that he could accept the gift.

“Thank you!” Scout beamed. “This is a really good chocolate shop, Mom.”

“It is, isn’t it? I think I’m beginning to understand why Mr. Conrad liked this town so much.”

Finn immediately went on alert. “Mr. Conrad?”

“He’s the patient who left me this ring.” Willa twirled it self-consciously on her finger. “One night when he was having trouble sleeping I asked if there was anything on his bucket list he regretted not doing. Sky-diving or something like that. He laughed and said he hadn’t been much for adventure or travel. But he did wish he’d made the time to visit Marietta, Montana.”

“This is going to sound crazy, but before he died, he actually booked the room at the B&B for Scout and me.”

Finn knew this much, as the trip had been included in the will. “Sounds like this man had a lot of sleepless nights. Was he in a lot of pain?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Finn’s throat dried up. For a few seconds he couldn’t breathe.

“Of course I tried to make him as comfortable as possible.”

Finally Finn recovered his voice. “Did this guy have family?”

“Yes. But he’d just gone through an ugly divorce, so he didn’t talk about them much.” She hesitated. “He had children. I’d hear him speaking with them on the phone occasionally, but they never came to visit. To be fair, he didn’t tell them he was sick and dying.”