Lakeshore Chronicles [10] Candlelight Christmas (19 page)

“Okay. I’m really glad you helped us.”

“I always help the people I love.” It just slipped out. She stared at him, and the little red-cheeked face and bright green eyes stared back at her.

His gaze never wavered. “I love you, too. I hope you stick around.”

Oh, boy. This could go so wrong. Charlie was a new love interest for her heart—and also a new risk. If things didn’t work out with Logan, her loss would be doubled. She’d been there before and feared going there again. On the other hand, the excitement she felt for Logan was doubled, too. Maybe it was time to quit being afraid.

“Good night, Charlie. I’ll see you on Christmas morning, okay?”

Chapter Eighteen

“T
hey’re nestled,” said Marion O’Donnell, coming down from the kids’ room.

“All snug in their beds,” added Al.

“Then Santa had better get to work,” said Bilski, nudging India. “We’ve got a pair of bikes to put together.”

“Humbug,” she said. “I’d rather have a hot toddy and go to bed.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” said China’s husband. “But only if you promise to help me with the dollhouse. All that itty-bitty furniture. I don’t get it.”

“We’ll put out the milk and cookies,” said China.

“You can put them right here,” Logan said, indicating the table next to him. “Santa needs a snack.”

Seated on his other side, Darcy felt a warm sense of contentment. She liked this family. She liked the interplay and the way they cared for one another. It reminded her of her own family, before the trouble with Huntley began.

She felt relaxed and at peace, far from trouble now.

India checked her phone. “Your mother sent a text message,” she said to Bilski. “She wants to know how we’re making it through the storm.”

“Tell her we’re suffering.” Bilski helped himself to another beer.

The coming storm was making national news because of its predicted size and severity. Currently it was hurling itself across the Great Lakes, gathering strength.

They went over the next day’s agenda like a team of battle commanders. “I’m going to get the ham in the oven before we go to church,” said Marion.

“We need to leave early,” China said. “Midnight service was canceled because of the storm, so the morning celebration is going to be packed.”

“Is everything in place for the live feed to Angelica’s mom?” Darcy asked.

Logan nodded. “We did a test run. It’s all going to come together, blizzard or no blizzard. If the internet service goes down, there’s a cellular backup.”

Darcy felt a wave of warmth for him. She loved that they were working together on this project. She just hoped it was enough to make Christmas bearable for Angelica and André.

The others peeled off gradually, everyone going to their rooms, until it was just Logan and Darcy and the roaring fire.

“Can I just say, I love this?” He gestured at the roaring fire with an impossible number of stockings hanging from the mantelpiece. “All these stockings. My mom and sisters are serious about stockings.” They were different colors, but all the same size so the kids wouldn’t bicker over them. There was a photograph of each person pinned to each stocking.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“I love having a big group like this, a big family. A tribe.”

She didn’t answer. She’d come from a big family, one that was tribelike. And it hadn’t worked out so well for her.

His hand dropped from the back of the sofa to her shoulder, gently caressing. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Coming on to you.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I think so, too.”

It was quiet and warm in the room, with music drifting from the speakers. It was briefly interrupted by a storm update. The new prediction was for up to three feet in Ulster County.

“Are you worried?” she asked him.

“I have a rule,” he said. “No worrying on Christmas Eve. Oh, and I have insurance, just in case. I was in the business, so I’m covered. Actually, there is one thing I’m worried about.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“How to get you to spend the night with me.”

And there it was. The invitation she had waited for, hoped for, yearned for and at the same time dreaded. Before she opened her mouth she honestly did not know what she would say.

“Sometimes all you have to do is ask.”

* * *

For Darcy, the biggest surprise of the night was not the blizzard. It was not the power of the wind lashing at the windows.

No, the biggest surprise was that Logan delivered on every single promise he’d made with his kisses. Yes, he really was that tender, that attentive to her. He seemed to know just how to make her want him with a yearning so intense it took her breath away. As stealthy as a pair of teenagers, they crept up the stairs to his room. The only light came from the string of colored bulbs hanging from the eaves outside, casting a rainbow glow across his high, peeled birch bed. The room smelled of woods and soap and some ineffable fragrance she found wildly arousing. He went over to a dresser and lit a tall column of a candle, dimly illuminating an area cluttered with unsorted laundry and a box of gift wrap, curly ribbon and gift bags.

“Sorry about the mess,” he murmured. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You weren’t?”

“Hoping, maybe. Not expecting.” He took her by the hand and brought her over to the bed.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

She started to reply, but he shushed her with a light brush of his thumb across her lips, and it was all she could do not to moan audibly.

“We’re already pretty good at talking,” he explained. “We can make conversation, joke around.”

“Yes, but—”

“Shh. Let’s see how we do at being quiet together.” He cupped the side of her head in his hand and kissed her, long and searchingly, his tongue teasing its way into her mouth. She ran her hands over his upper arms and around his shoulders, mapping the terrain of hard muscle under his soft sweater. He felt so good to her. She was so ready for this—another surprise. Before Logan, she’d wanted nothing to do with guys, and relationships. All she thought of was the risk and the emotional pain. Just a few weeks ago, she had been patently unable to imagine being vulnerable again, but suddenly she felt as if someone had let her out of a small, cramped box of her own making. Stepping back, she pulled her top over her head and let it drop to the floor. It felt wonderful, liberating, to finally leave the past behind and step into this unexpected new place—Logan’s world.

He took in a sharp breath, then put his hands at her waist and pulled her close, bending to place a line of kisses along her collarbone, then reaching around to unhook her bra, fumbling a little.

“It’s a front clasp,” she said, slowly guiding his hands to savor every bit of his touch.

He took it off, and made a wordless sound she found completely gratifying. He peeled his sweater off one-handed and dropped his jeans, and she followed suit. Then he pressed her back on the bed, onto the soft, age-worn quilt. She welcomed the weight of him, feeling amazed at how clear-eyed she was about wanting him. Instead of feeling smothered, she felt untethered, ready for adventure.

He pulled a ribbon of connected packets from a drawer of the bedside table. “Better watch out,” he murmured.

“Better not cry,” she said.

Then he raised himself above her and held her hands up over her head, sinking down with exquisite timing. “Santa Claus is coming tonight,” he whispered.

* * *

Time slipped away, the minutes uncounted as they lost themselves in making love. Darcy felt dazed by the storm of pleasure, and in the aftermath, the silence was deep, broken only by their satisfied, tandem breathing. His long, muscular body curved around hers, unfamiliar and exciting.

Her life seemed to be taking an unanticipated turn. She thought she’d come here simply to survive the holidays away from her family. And now here she was with this new thing happening to her. This...romance. Really, there was no other word for it. She was swept into a lovely swirl of emotion, one that freed her heart and filled her with joy, gently unspooling the tension she’d been holding on to from the past. He turned his head and gently kissed her temple. “That was nice,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said. “But there’s something I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?”

“This is supposed to be awkward,” she said. “We’re new, it’s our first time, so...why isn’t this awkward?”

“Because it’s the real thing. It’s not awkward, because it’s real.”

“How do you know that? We barely know each other.”

“I know stuff.” He laughed softly. “I’m smarter than I look.”

“What stuff?” she asked. “I mean, you’re the first man I’ve wanted to make love to since my marriage. If you’re so smart, you’d realize this is probably rebound sex.”

“As opposed to what?”

“The kind of sex you have when you realize you’re over your failed marriage and you’re ready to move on, and you find someone you click with and you realize you’re not reacting to the past but to right now.”

“I think you just answered your own question.” He trailed his finger along her jawline, then down over her shoulder. “This is not a rebound,” he said.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because I’m not letting you go.”

Her heart surged with excitement. Happiness. She wished the feeling could go on forever.

And this was unfortunate, because she could not see a way for the situation to sort itself out in the long term. Logan was incredible, but there was a red flag as big and bright as the cape of a matador. He claimed he wanted—he needed—a woman who wanted children, not just Charlie but babies, too. She couldn’t promise him that. It just felt too risky, too fraught with pitfalls. She wasn’t ready now and couldn’t be certain she’d ever be.

“There are things you don’t know about me,” she confessed. “Things that would make a big difference in the way you feel. Things that would tell you that this might not be the right move for either of us.”

“There’s plenty we don’t know about each other, but it’s only a matter of time. I plan to learn everything about you. I’m going to know what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. I’m going to know what makes you mad and what makes you sad. I’m going to learn all about you. And you’re going to love every minute of it. Oh, and you’re going to learn everything about me, too.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“Because I
am
sure. And the more you know me, the more you’re going to love me.”

That word.
Love
. Although her feelings for him were all brand new, she could not convince herself that he was wrong. “You seem to know a lot about us. Do you have a crystal ball?”

“I know what I know.” He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her, serious now. In the faint glow of the Christmas lights and the flickering candle flame, his eyes looked deep and intense. “I know what my heart’s telling me to do. It’s telling me to love you. It’s telling me to take you in my arms and never let you go.”

A flurry of alarm fluttered in her chest. “But we want such different things. I can never be the person you want me to be.”

“Darcy. You already
are
that person.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not. And I never can be.” She suddenly felt overwhelmed by his certainty, by the power in his eyes. She could never live up to what he wanted from her. She could never be the mother he wanted for Charlie, couldn’t imagine having his children.

She’d said it a hundred times. She didn’t want children. And she was scared. She had emerged from the demise of her marriage more or less intact, but also firmly resolved to be smarter, going forward. She was too young, too hopeful to declare she’d never fall in love again. But now she was wise enough to know that if and when she did, she would do so cautiously, not leaping into something the way she’d just...leaped.

“Why are you so afraid of finding happiness?”

“Because it doesn’t last, and it’s awful when you lose it.”

“You’re not going to lose it. When the right thing comes along, it’s just going to grow and deepen and get stronger every day, every year until the end of time.”

He was a hopeless romantic. She wished she could be that, too, wished she could surrender and not see all the obstacles in the way.

But she couldn’t. It was too hard for her. Too scary. She needed time, time to think. Time to see if there was any truth in what he was telling her.

“It’s almost Christmas,” she said. “Can we just agree to enjoy the holidays?”

“And then?”

“And then I have to go home.”

“To the sock warehouse,” he said.

“Hey. Don’t judge. I searched high and low for my place in the city.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I searched high and low for
you
.”

Chapter Nineteen

A
t some point in the dead of night, the power went out. Logan awakened to chilly darkness, and found himself lying in an empty bed. The Christmas lights were dark and colorless, and the big candle on the dresser had burned down to a puddle of white wax. If it was not for warm memories swirling through him, he might have thought he’d dreamed the night with Darcy.

He jumped out of bed, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and thick socks and went downstairs. His breath created frozen clouds. The Christmas tree looked sad and neglected, standing there in the weak light through the window. In the aftermath of the blizzard, the light in the great room was stark from the deep blanket of snow. Over at the resort, the emergency generator chugged with a distant hum.

Working quickly, he made a fire. A big one. But it would take more than that to chase away the chill in the air. Suddenly his perfect Christmas wasn’t looking so perfect.

His father came into the room, unshaven and bundled up against the frigid weather. “Bad luck on the power,” he said.

“Yeah.” Logan braced himself, expecting an I-told-you-so and a reminder that they could be enjoying the Florida sunshine today. But the diatribe never came. Al stood in front of the fire, slapping his palms together.

“So much for hot cinnamon buns and coffee this morning,” Logan said. “And unless the power company gets right on it, I’m not so sure about Mom’s baked ham and all the trimmings.” He glared at the dead-looking tree. “There’s something totally depressing about an unlit tree by daylight.”

“Maybe this will cheer you up.” His father handed him a business-sized envelope.

“What’s this?”

“A contract. You can read the fine print later. It’s an investor’s agreement. I’m looking for a stake in Saddle Mountain.”

Logan’s jaw dropped. “What the—”

“Did he come?” The kids arrived en masse, tumbling into the room, sleep-tousled and still in their pajamas. “Did Santa come?”

Logan put the contract in his back pocket and couldn’t keep from grinning at his dad. “Yep,” he said. “It appears that he did.”

“Yay!”

Al turned to the herd of children. “Well, now, looks like Santa didn’t bring any electricity. Better check the stockings.”

“Stockings!” There was a mad scramble.

India and China arrived to supervise the first wave of holiday madness. Someone switched on the battery-powered speakers, and lively carols filled the air. Logan’s mother went around lighting every candle she could find. The stockings were stuffed with treats and crazy little toys, like windup roaring dinosaurs, stick-on tattoos, nostril-shaped pencil sharpeners, mini whoopee cushions. Charlie was enamored with a set of finger-sized steel drums, and André accompanied him on the harmonica.

“When can we open presents?” Bernie demanded. “We’ve been waiting
forever
.”

“After everybody gets here,” China said.

“Where’s Darcy?” Charlie asked, looking around.

Good question, thought Logan. Had last night’s conversation freaked her out so much she’d disappeared into the frozen tundra?

“I’ll go look in her room.” Bernie clambered up the stairs.

Uh-oh,
thought Logan.

A few minutes later, Bernie returned, her eyes wide. “She’s gone. Her bed is all made up, and she’s
gone.
”

Instantly Logan’s sisters turned to him with knowledge written clearly in their gazes.

He offered a sheepish grin and a shrug.

“Where’d she go?” Charlie asked. “Should we go look for her?”

A commotion ensued as everyone debated and speculated, but it didn’t last long. “Hey, check it out,” said André, running to the front door.

There was Darcy in her parka and snowshoes, coming up the front walk, pulling a small sled behind her. She looked like a dream to Logan. Small and bright, a breath of fresh air. Last night had been incredible, and deep down, he felt completely certain this was not a fling or a rebound. They had a lot more talking to do.

Maybe not just talking.

“Hot coffee and hot chocolate from the lodge,” Darcy announced, leaving her snowshoes on the porch. Al and Bilski went outside to help her.

“Christmas is saved,” Logan’s mother declared.

As Logan took her coat and shut the door behind her, he noticed a line of snowshoe tracks leading around to the back of the house.

“Now can we open presents?” Charlie asked.

“Ready, set, go!” India yelled.

The kids rushed toward the Christmas tree. Despite the lack of electricity, their squeals of excitement lit the room. The Santa gifts were a hit—a dollhouse and princess outfits for the girls, sleds and snowball bazookas for the boys, André’s baseball mitt, the snowboard for Charlie. Logan saw the boys sharing a knowing look.

“I got a special card,” Angelica exclaimed. “Look, it’s from Santa!” She opened the card, which featured a sparkly picture of Santa and a simple message. “See you at the church, later.”

“I wonder what it means.” Bernie turned the card this way and that, squinting at the careful lettering.

Angelica’s eyes shone with hope and excitement. “Maybe it means I’m getting my Christmas wish.”

“I bet it does,” Bernie declared.

Logan was probably the only one who noticed Charlie’s smile seemed forced as he inspected the shiny new snowboard. “It’s really cool,” he said.

“I bet you can’t wait to try it out,” said Al.

“That’s right.”

“Just what you wanted?” asked Fisher.

Charlie ducked his head and slid his snowboard along the rug under the tree. Logan could tell something was up. Charlie’s cheerfulness was an act, that was apparent.

Logan’s gut twisted unpleasantly as he went over to the fireplace mantel, where there was a small stack of Christmas cards. Among the cards were the notes they had written to themselves last summer at Camp Kioga. True to her word, Sonnet had mailed them to arrive the day before. Logan’s message to himself had been succinct:
Make Christmas awesome for Charlie
.

He sensed Darcy beside him, peering over his shoulder. “Remember this?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I filled one out, too. But I wasn’t home to get my mail.”

“What’d you write on it?”

She hesitated, but smiled up at him. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

He liked the sound of “someday” coming from her. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“What did you write?”

He showed her. “I’m not doing so hot.”

“Nonsense. Look at this, Logan.” She gestured around the room, at his parents and sisters, nieces and nephews, André and Angelica and Charlie. Everyone was laughing or relaxing or playing while outside the window, a soft snow began to fall. His parents were on the sofa, sipping coffee and watching the kids. “Joy to the World” was playing on the stereo. “Look at these happy faces. You did this, Logan.
You
.”

It was exactly what he needed to hear. How had she known? His heart skipped a beat. He was going to love this woman forever. He just knew it. Now he had to figure out if she knew it, too. “Hey—”

“The pickle prize,” she said suddenly, turning to Charlie. “Don’t forget the pickle prize.”

The kids perked up, and there was another mad dash for the tree. Darcy nudged Charlie and pointed at a spot in the tree.

“There it is,” Charlie yelled. “I saw it first!” Reaching through the branches, he unhooked the ornament from the tree. The motion sensor went off, and the pickle made a yodeling sound.

“You won the pickle prize,” Darcy declared.

“What’s the pickle prize?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I bet it’s on that little note,” Bernie said, indicating the tiny tag attached to the ornament.

“What’s it say?” asked Nan.

“Read it!” Fisher and Goose demanded.

Charlie unfolded the note. “It says pant...pantry. I got it, I’m supposed to look in the pantry.” He set down the ornament and made a beeline for the big storage room off the kitchen.

Mystified, Logan shot Darcy a look and followed him. Charlie swung open the door and peered into the dark.

“What’d you find?” asked André, crowding in behind him.

“It’s just pantry stuff,” Charlie mumbled. “I don’t—” He stopped and held very still.

“What?” asked André.

“Shh.” Nearly masked by the music and conversation, a tiny noise sounded. Charlie bent down and picked up a wicker basket filled with fleece blankets.

When he turned, his face was lit with wonder. “Dad,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Dad, look!” He set down the basket and moved the blankets aside to reveal a fluffy, squirming, squeaking bundle. “A puppy! I got a puppy!” His eyes shone with joy as he carefully lifted it up.

“Charlie got a puppy!” Bernie exclaimed. “Oh my gosh, he’s so cute!”

Everyone gathered around to admire the little puppy. It had floppy ears and butterscotch-colored fur, a black button nose and bright eyes. There was a red ribbon around its neck and a tag. Charlie read it aloud. “Please look after this dog. His name is Taffy, and he wants to be your forever friend. Love, Santa.”

The pup licked Charlie’s face, and the laughter that came from him was the sweetest sound Logan had ever heard. He looked over at Darcy—clearly, the culprit in this. She looked back, grinning.

“Whaddya know,” André said, “Santa really is real.”

Logan had told Darcy all the reasons it was a bad time to get a dog—the mess, the noise, the work, the inconvenience. But for now, he simply caught her eye from across the room and mouthed two words:
Thank you
.

* * *

“How are we going to get to church?” asked Logan’s mother, checking her watch. “And will we make it on time?” All the adults in the house were in on the Angelica project. Everyone wanted the live video link to work so Maya Martin could see her kids on Christmas.

“Not to worry,” said Logan. “One of the groomers is driving the big plow down the mountain road.”

“Then let’s get going,” said India, rounding everyone up.

The town of Avalon looked as if it had been covered in fluffy white icing, but the church parking lot was full.

The church had power, thanks to a generator. Volunteers were pouring hot chocolate and coffee in the candlelit lobby. Everyone filed inside, breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth. More candles glowed around the altar. Charlie brought his puppy in a portable carrier lined with soft bedding, thoughtfully provided by Santa.

“How’d you pull that off?” Logan murmured.

“A little bird told me,” she whispered. “I paid a visit to PAWS yesterday, and they kept the dog at the lodge overnight. I just had to sneak him into the house this morning.”

“You’ve got a lot of tricks up your sleeve.”

“I know I put a lot on your plate without asking you, but I’ve heard it said that it’s easier to apologize after the fact than to ask permission in the first place.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re amazing. Charlie and I will never forget what you did.”

“It was Santa’s doing. I was only following orders.”

Eddie and Maureen Haven, the pageant directors, greeted people at the door to the sanctuary. Charlie handed the travel crate to André and approached them, his face pale and serious. “I’m sorry about the manger. I’m really sorry.”

“You fixed it just in time,” Eddie said. “No harm done.” He glanced down at his wife. “Years ago, I made a much bigger mess on Christmas Eve. Took me a long time, but I made amends.” They shook hands.

Logan frowned at Darcy. “What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you later. Or maybe Charlie will.”

Inside the sanctuary, the kids got into their choir robes while the adults filed into their seats. Logan and Darcy found Zach Alger getting the video link ready. He motioned them over. “All set,” he said.

Logan brought André and Angelica to look at the setup. “There’s someone who wants to say hi,” he said. The children’s faces lit up when they looked at the small screen. There was Maya, smiling tremulously. She wore a collared blue shirt and had every hair in place. There were rings of sleeplessness around her eyes, but when the kids stood in front of the camera, the tense lines were softened by joy.

“Hey, babies,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Mama,” said Angelica.

“We miss you,” André said. “We can’t wait to see you.”

“Are you gonna watch the singing?” Angelica asked, toying with the red ribbon of her robe. “I’m gonna sing a special song.”

“Yes, I get to watch. And I’m going to be so proud of you. I love you both. I’ll see you soon.”

“How soon, Mama? Sometimes in the night, I miss you so much that I cry,” said Angelica.

“Ah, baby, I’m so sorry I can’t be there. I cry, too. But not today. Not on Christmas. I hope you’re having fun, up there in the mountains.”