Christmas Comes to Main Street (12 page)

“Well, I'm just glad I've rectified it. I'm new at all of this, and it's important to me that I get it right. There are a lot of people in town who think I'll fail.”

“Don't listen to other people or what they say. They can only knock you down if you let them. If you want something badly enough, you'll find a way to make it work. But don't do it in spite of them. Do it for yourself.” His face flushed with anger and he reached for his mug, trying to hide it.

Kara was watching him with surprise in her eyes. “You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

More than she would ever know. He squinted into the sun, waiting for the air to cool the temper from his skin. He didn't feel the need to elaborate or dwell on his past. Not when he was having such a nice day. She'd hit a nerve, reminding him of a time in his life he'd rather forget. Especially today.

Pulling himself from darkening thoughts, he looked over at her, grinning when he noticed the whipped cream that clung to the corner of her pretty mouth. He waited for her to notice, but she was looking out onto the rink, watching the skaters go past.

He knew he could say something, gesture with a napkin, but instead he reached over, his smile broadening as she blinked at him in startled surprise, and wiped the cream from her mouth with the back of his thumb.

“Whipped cream,” he explained. He felt the pull of her smile under his finger before he brought his hand away.

Kara wiped quickly at her mouth. “Ah, see, a true competitor wouldn't have lent a hand,” she remarked.

“I hardly think I've given you an advantage.” Nate smiled easily, leaning back into his chair, watching as Kara swiped a napkin over her mouth. “Besides, I've started to realize you're a formidable opponent. I'm not so sure how my aunt will feel about that.”

“Oh, none of us stand much of a chance with Kathleen Madison in the mix,” Kara replied. She sighed as she wrapped her hands around the mug. “But it sure would be nice to win.”

“This bakery means a lot to you,” he commented. “When something means that much, you find a way to make it work.”

“I hope so,” Kara sighed. “But it's not just the fear of hearing people say they told me so that worries me.” Kara stirred the marshmallows into her hot chocolate, watching them melt. “When my dad died, each of us got a bit of inheritance. I saved mine all these years. I… I couldn't bring myself to spend it, you see. I felt like once it was gone, it was gone, and that last little part of him would be, too. When I started to realize what I wanted to do with my life, that I was good at baking and that I wanted something to call my own, I thought this was a chance to use the money for something good. Every day when I walk into that bakery, I feel like a part of him is there with me. Like he helped me build it.”

Shame nipped at him, sharper than the December breeze, and Nate swallowed hard against his growing guilt. He'd misjudged her. Done exactly what the kids at school had done to him. Labeled her.

“He did help you build it,” he said, leaning forward to touch her wrist.

She smiled sadly at him, the sweet sight tearing at his chest. “I just couldn't bear it if anything happened to that bakery. I know people think I'll get bored and quit one day. But I won't. It's hard work, I won't deny that, but I can do it.” She grinned as she locked his eyes. “And winning the Holiday House contest will certainly help.”

He lifted an eyebrow, deciding to follow her change of tone. “Hey, I've got a few surprises up my sleeve, I'll have you know. Don't count me out just yet.”

“As do I,” she said, pursing her lips. “And as for counting you out… I don't see that happening.” She held his gaze for a beat, until her cheeks turned a bright pink, and then hastily brought her mug to her lips.

Nate drained the rest of his own beverage, eyeing her carefully. Something was shifting between them. Something he enjoyed.

“You'd better put that Santa cap back on before your aunt catches you without it,” Kara warned, flashing him a mischievous grin. “You know, everything she ever said about you was true, by the way.”

“You mean the stuff about my fancy car and my fancy degree?” Nate shook his head. He only had the car because it was necessary for client meetings—because there was a certain image he needed to portray in his position.

“That, and the other stuff, too. She said you were smart and kind. And quiet. She adores you, Nate. I can see why.”

His brow shot up in surprise. A pretty girl was paying him a compliment, and maybe one he didn't completely deserve.

He should have trusted his gut, ignored the surface-level information.

Kara was sweet, and pretty, and entirely unlike any other woman he'd met in a while. He certainly hadn't expected to meet someone like her when he'd agreed to come to Briar Creek for the holidays. But then, he hadn't known what to expect then.

One thing was becoming certain: This was one Christmas he was never going to forget.

M
olly was waiting on a bench outside the Paper Pixie when Kara called her name from across the street. Molly bounced up and waved back, watching as her sister scurried across the slushy street.

“I hope you weren't sitting out there for long,” Kara said, alarm flashing in her bright blue eyes. “It's freezing out here. I went skating this morning, but I think the temperature has actually dropped since then.”

Molly just shrugged. The cold air never bothered her, and besides, she needed it to clear her mind today. She'd hoped that planning this wedding would make her feel excited about the prospect of marrying Todd, but all it did was fill her with more doubts.

“Shall we?” Molly wrapped her hand around the big brass handle and pulled the door open, momentarily disarmed by the beautiful holiday display that centered the room. She reached out and touched one of the homemade paper wreaths, feeling the creaminess of the paper in her hand. For a long as she could remember, she'd loved paper—collecting and storing it, often afraid of writing on it for fear of ruining it—and pens. Colored pens. Sparkly ink. One year she'd received a calligraphy set for Christmas. She wondered if her mother had kept it… She'd look when she went back to the house. Maybe she would do her own lettering for the menus or something. As they liked to suggest at the magazine, a personal touch was always important at a wedding.

“You always did love paper.” Kara laughed under her breath.

“I still do.” Molly sighed. “You should see my bedroom closet in my apartment. It's my guilty pleasure. That and all things romance.”

“It didn't surprise any of us that you took that job at the bridal magazine,” Kara observed.

It was true. The job was a perfect fit. A childhood fantasy come true. For as long as she could remember, she'd loved the idea of weddings: the ball gown, the flowers, the music swelling as the tension built and the bride appeared as people rose, and of course the walk down the aisle. She'd always wanted a long aisle. Long enough to build up the anticipation, to stretch the drama to maximum capacity. And then of course the cake. Who didn't love wedding cakes, often too pretty to want to eat?

She'd planned her wedding at least two dozen times, starting at the age of ten, when she'd wanted everything to be purple, right down to the lilac bridesmaid dresses. The one setback in her fantasy was that her father was no longer with them to walk her down the aisle. She had cried about this when the realization first hit her, but Luke had just given her a quizzical look and told her that was what he was for—if she'd let him.

Molly smiled at the memory, of how eager her brother was to soften her heartache, even though they both knew he could never fill their father's shoes, and didn't intend to, either. Now she suddenly missed her father more than ever, and not just because he wouldn't be here to walk her down the aisle. Something told her that her father would know how to help her through her mixed feelings better than her mother could.

Molly stopped and picked up a scrapbook. It was similar to the ones she'd filled over the years, collecting ideas for her wedding cake, her dress, her shoes, her bouquet… Her visions had gradually changed over the years, but one thing had never wavered. She would get married on Valentine's Day. And now… she was about to do just that.

She put a hand to her stomach. God, she suddenly felt sick.

Doing her best to rearrange her grimace, she managed to smile as Shea O'Riley, the store's owner and an old acquaintance, came to greet them, her pretty blond hair pulled back in a chic chignon.

Molly had already planned on a classic bun for her wedding day, but now she wondered if a chignon might be more elegant. Something to think about, and she was happy for it. It suddenly occurred to her that it might have been easier to distract herself from all these nerves if she was busy planning the wedding instead of more or less executing a fine-tuned plan.

“Merry Christmas!” Shea said, coming over to give Molly a hug. “And congratulations, I see. Go on, show me the bling. Make us single girls green with envy.” She tossed a wink at Kara.

Molly felt her smile slip as she pulled her glove from her hand. It was becoming considerably less enjoyable to show the thing off, it seemed. She was grateful it was winter, that she could hide it most of the time under her outerwear. Somehow it felt… wrong to show the ring off so much. Like a… sham.

She stiffened. Nonsense! She'd chosen this ring, and Todd had bought it for her, slipped it on her finger, and made all her dreams come true. Sure, it wasn't exactly the grand, romantic proposal she'd detailed, with some secret planning on his part, but she was a modern girl, and that meant relinquishing some traditional fantasies. If she'd left Todd to pick out the ring himself, there was no telling what he would have come up with. Did she want the perfect proposal or the perfect ring? She settled for the perfect ring and came up with a cute spin on their less-than-swoon-worthy proposal. After all, she'd be wearing this ring forever… technically.

Her stomach knotted again. “Look at that ring!” Shea sighed. “And I bet he picked it out himself, right? Lucky fellow.” Turning to Kara, she said sadly, “And then there were two.”

“Yep,” Kara said, but her cheeks went all red and she struggled to hold Molly's gaze.

Interesting
, Molly thought, sliding her glove back on her hand. Her sister hadn't dated much over the years, and Kara hadn't mentioned that there was anyone in her life at the moment; if anything, she'd seemed a bit down about being single during the holidays. But from the flush in her cheeks it might seem she had something to hide.

That made two of them, she thought with sudden dread.

“So, have you decided on a color scheme?” Shea guided them over to a table in the corner of the room where invitation samples were already set up.

Molly picked one up and sighed. She couldn't help it. With the raised lettering and the elegant scroll, she could almost feel her excitement return. “I'm getting married Valentine's weekend, so it will be red, lavender, cream, and a touch of pink.” She slid her sister a look. “Just a touch.”

“You know, we should probably wait for Mom to be here to decide on anything,” Kara said, and Molly felt her stomach tighten.

It was true that their mother would want to be a part of this. A big part. But their mother had a big personality, and even bigger opinions. And Molly already knew exactly how she wanted to look. She even had her dress picked out—she'd found it two years ago—she was just trying on others to be sure of her choice and to help get her into the spirit of things. She'd waited so long for this event—how could she not be enjoying it more? Finally, she was going to be the bride! She was going to have the dress, the flowers, the veil! All these years of waiting for her moment… and it was only a couple of months away.

“I just want to have an idea of things before I let her in,” Molly explained. There would be plenty of time to devote to wedding plans after
The Nutcracker
wrapped up, but she couldn't wait another week to get started on it. She needed to bring it to life, make it real in her mind, embrace the idea until she wasn't able to imagine letting it go. She closed her eyes. She could picture the candlelight, hear the soft sound of piano music, feel the swoosh of her dress…

“I understand,” Kara said. “I did the same thing when it came to Sugar and Spice, not that the bakery is the same as a wedding day, of course,” she was quick to add. “But it's personal to me, and I needed it to reflect my wishes, not someone else's.”

“Well, there's no need to decide today,” Shea said, flipping open a binder and turning it to the sisters. “Some brides take months to make a selection.”

“That's probably how it would be for me,” Kara mused. “I seem to second-guess pretty much every decision I make. But I'm getting better at sticking with my instinct.”

She grew quiet, lowering her gaze as she glanced out the window and onto the town square. The paper store had moved off Main Street when Rosemary and Thyme expanded into its original space, and it was now housed on Chestnut Street, just opposite the green. Molly followed Kara's gaze and looked out onto the winter scene, watching the skaters twirl and spin across the ice. It always made Molly think of their dad and the time they spent with him there as kids.

She knew it was hard this time of year, for all of them, but something in Kara's wistful stare told Molly she wasn't thinking about their father right now. She wondered if there was another man occupying her sister's thoughts instead.

“What are your Christmas plans this year?” she asked Shea as she flipped through the binder, stopping to admire some of the samples. She liked the modern ones best, even though she suspected her mother would want to go for something more traditional, along with something a little more pink for the arrangements. Cream cardstock, embossed lettering. Gold, not silver. She'd know it when she saw it.

Shea swept her ash-brown hair from her shoulders and rested her chin in her hand. “Oh, the usual. Dinner with my parents. Just the three of us. A little sad really.”

“Why sad?” Kara asked, frowning.

“Oh, I don't know. I guess I wish I had what you two have. A big family. Lots of siblings. It seems so festive.”

“It is,” Molly admitted, sliding her sister a smile. She'd spent so much time away from Briar Creek that Boston had begun to feel like her real home, but being here these past few days, she was beginning to feel a little sad about the thought of going back to her apartment… and Todd. Todd, who liked to relax in the evenings with a few hours of boring documentaries and often didn't think to make room for her on the couch. Todd, who didn't like to read. Todd, who left his dirty socks wherever he decided to fling them. Todd, whose eyes drifted ten minutes into her telling him something about her day.

Nonsense, she told herself. It was natural to feel that way. You didn't call off a wedding over something as silly as a man putting an empty bag of chips back into the pantry! Of course she felt more fulfilled with her family. They were all she knew. And Todd was just one person—he could hardly be expected to fill the place of two siblings and a mother and some cousins and an aunt…

Todd was handsome. Damn handsome. The best-looking guy she'd ever dated. And he was now her very handsome fiancé. She should be bursting with pride. And she was. She kept a picture of the two of them on her desk at work, and people always stopped to admire it. Several girls were jealous of her. What they wouldn't give to have a guy like Todd. And she was actually marrying him! The thought of taking it down…

“Of course, I'm sure that Molly would be just as happy having a quiet, romantic Christmas with her fiancé, though,” Shea continued.

Molly's smile felt tight.

“Lord knows that's all I've wished for,” she added, thinking back on how sad she'd been when they broke up last year. She grinned at Kara, forcing herself back to the present. “I think we need to make some resolutions this year. I'm feeling optimistic, and something tells me that this time next year, you and I will both be in a very different place.”

Kara smiled shyly. “I guess it's possible.”

“Of course it's possible. Christmas is still a week and a half away. Maybe my wish will come true and I'll be curled up by the tree with a handsome stranger by then. It's Christmas after all. Anything is possible.”

Kara nodded. “I wouldn't have agreed with you a few months ago, but I think you're right. Anything is possible. Molly should know.”

Molly felt her cheeks heat with guilt, even though she knew there was nothing to be ashamed of. The girls were right—anything was possible. And maybe, just maybe, when she went back to Boston and saw Todd after the holidays she'd realize how much she'd missed him and that she couldn't wait to spend the rest of her life with him. Just the two of them.

So why then did imagining that exact scenario feel nothing short of impossible?

Kara knew she could have mentioned her budding friendship with Nate to Shea and Molly, but something was holding her back. She was still figuring out what was going on with them, if they were rivals or friends or, maybe, something more. She wouldn't mind there being something more—in fact, she was beginning to think she'd like that very much—but did Nate feel the same way? So far he'd given no indication that he saw her as anything other than someone to spend time with while he was in town.

Still, her stomach bubbled with hope as she crunched across the snow to Main Street, the corner of her eye locked on the inn. He was in there somewhere, probably helping out his aunt with some decorations. He was a good nephew. It took a lot of patience to put up with the stronger side of Mrs. Griffin's personality—and she should know. She could still remember the way her heart had pounded for the entire five-minute, pinched-lip inspection of her cookies the first time she'd delivered them for tea. She'd all but broken a sweat by the time Mrs. Griffin had looked up, a gleam in her eyes, and remarked that she was just teasing, and of course they looked beautiful.

It was strange that Nate hadn't come to visit more often, if ever, Kara mused, but then dismissed the idea before she could give it further thought. Life was busy, and days were easily filled. She of all people could relate to that, lately.

The dance studio was just a few blocks off Main, and Kara and Molly arrived just in time to see the tail end of rehearsal. Their mother stood at the end of the room, wearing a black leotard and long, flowing chiffon skirt. She barely blinked as she watched the routine.

Seeming satisfied with what she saw, she called a break and slipped out of the studio. “A week until opening night, and you'd think we still had a year.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head dramatically.