Second Chance Christmas (The Colorado Cades) (8 page)

During the drive to his house, snow began to fall. There was already plenty of accumulation on the ground, but he never got tired of the untouched magic of brand-new snow, blanketing over ruts and muddy patches.

“Can we make a snowman?” Kaylee asked as they pulled into his driveway.

“Not today, kiddo. We should stay inside with Hope in case she wakes up. But I have an idea. I haven’t started decorating my tree yet. Want to help?” After getting home yesterday evening with his impulsive purchase, he’d discovered that he owned exactly three ornaments.

There was a snowboarding Santa in a pair of goggles; Trey Grainger’s wife had bought them in bulk last year and given one to each of the eighty patrollers. Then there was a promotional ornament that had come free with a six-pack of soda at some point. Finally, there were two cartoonish cats embracing under a sprig of mistletoe, a memento from the month he’d dated a waitress named Kitty.

Even though he’d deliberately picked a small tree, he was going to need more than three meager ornaments. He’d knocked off a few of the evergreen needles while trying to get the tree situated on a coffee table, and he didn’t own a proper tree stand, so he’d improvised. As a result, the tree was leaning slightly to the left. It was a little like Charlie Brown’s tree. No, that wasn’t true—it was like another, sadder tree that
aspired
to be half as grand as Chuck’s.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are all
your
decorations breakful, too?”

“You mean breakable? Like glass and stuff?”

She bobbed her head in affirmation. “I’m not allowed to touch those kind.”

“Good news, I don’t have any breakable ornaments. In fact, you’re looking at all my decorations.”

“Don’t you know where the stores are?” she asked, clearly aghast that he couldn’t figure out how to buy more.

“Yes, but I thought we could make some ornaments. Like out of popcorn and stuff.”

“I like popcorn.”

“Then we’re in business.” Just as soon as he located the needle and thread he was about 80 percent sure he owned. He had a dim recollection of buying a kit to replace a button before he’d decided he didn’t like that particular shirt enough to bother.

The baby stayed asleep while he microwaved two bags of popcorn, burning one of them slightly. He got the popcorn started so that Kaylee didn’t accidentally stab herself with the business end of the needle, then let her slide the pieces down the string. She also ate some of the would-be decorations, but he told himself that at least popcorn had no sugar. As they worked, he remembered Arden once making a chain of paper loops. Since he didn’t have any construction paper, he brought Kaylee a stack of his
Sports Illustrated
magazines. He showed her how to look for colorful pictures and tear the page into strips.

Soon after that, Hope woke, loudly demanding a bottle. Justin settled into a chair with her and watched as Kaylee glued strips of varying width into lopsided circles. Truth be told, he thought more of the glue was getting on her than on the chain, but at least she was enjoying herself.

As soon as they hung the makeshift decorations, however, Kaylee frowned at him. “You don’t have any lights. Christmas trees need lights. It’s a rule.”

“A rule, huh?” Did he own lights? He couldn’t recall the last time he’d done any holiday decorating beyond a novelty wreath on his front door, but surely somewhere... He had a sudden brainstorm. Back in October, his sister’s best friend had drafted him to help with the high school’s haunted house fund-raiser. He still had a few strings of lights in a miscellaneous box in the garage.

Situating Hope in the supportive baby sling he’d found in her bag, he headed into the garage. He returned with one string of purple bats and another of orange pumpkins. “These are the best I could do,” he told Kaylee. “A little unorthodox, but they do light up when you plug them in.”

Now his crooked tree, which was previously decked in three mismatched ornaments, also bore a popcorn garland, a paper chain soggy with glue and orange-and-purple Halloween lights.
Yeah, that’s progress
.

“Guess it doesn’t look much like the one you have at home, does it, kiddo?”

“Nuh-uh.” She stared up at him, brown eyes full of something perilously close to hero worship. “Yours is
way
better.”

* * *

E
LISABETH
SHOULD
BE
filled with satisfaction. In a short period of time, she and Steven had accomplished a lot, crossing a number of items off their to-do list. But she couldn’t shake her nagging sense of unease. It grew worse the closer they got to Justin’s house.

Even the clicking of her blinker as she waited to turn left set her nerves on edge. “Steven, can I tell you something?”

He glanced up immediately from whatever he’d been reading on his cell phone. “Of course. You know I’m always here to listen.”

That was true. She’d desperately needed someone to talk to after Michelle died, and Steven had been amazing. He’d been going through a difficult time at work and had questioned whether to push through it in hopes of something bigger at the company or take his chances elsewhere. They’d made each other laugh at the ends of stressful days and given each other plenty of advice.

“We’ve been bumping into Justin a lot, and I’m feeling guilty because there’s something I haven’t mentioned.”

He waited, not impatient or suspicious, but encouraging.

“The day you got here, I met Justin for lunch to ask about his sister taking our pictures, and afterward—” She broke off, the admission seeming silly now that she put it into words. “He almost kissed me.”

“Almost? But didn’t? I suppose that’s understandable. You’re a beautiful woman, and the two of you have history.”

“You aren’t mad?” Deep down, she’d known he wouldn’t be, but she supposed she’d been hoping for
some
kind of reaction.

“There’s no reason. Even if he’d gone through with it, you would have pushed him away.” He squeezed her hand affectionately. “I trust you. You’d never betray me.”

“I feel the same way about you.” There was a lot of mutual respect and friendship in this car. But was that enough for a lifetime?

Damn it
. A week ago, she’d felt confident in her decision to marry Steven. Was she simply experiencing the same, run-of-the-mill cold feet all brides experienced from time to time, or were her misgivings serious enough to explore further?

A third, more embarrassing possibility was that her recent close encounters with Justin were throwing her emotional barometer out of whack. Perhaps she hadn’t done herself any favors by diligently avoiding him after their breakup. Granted, Cielo Peak’s size made it difficult to cut another resident completely from one’s life, but by spending all her time at the lodge and in Justin-free zones like the elementary school and pediatrician’s office, she’d managed pretty well. Unfortunately, all that avoidance hadn’t given her the opportunity for closure, the chance to prove to herself that she was completely over him.

Well, you have the chance now. Take it
.

She parked in front of his house and unbuckled her seat belt. “Are you coming in with me, or would you rather wait here?”

He chuckled. “I told you, I trust you. I’m not worried about you being alone with him for two minutes while I check email.”

There was a formal front door, but Justin discouraged people from using it because the porch steps were rickety. Not to mention, they were currently covered in snow and ice. She walked to the side of the house, to the door beneath the carport. She could hear the low drone of a television inside, paired with Justin’s deep, muffled voice and Kaylee’s higher-pitched laugh. It occurred to Elisabeth that Kaylee might not be happy to see her since it meant playtime was over.

But the little girl was all smiles as she ducked under Justin’s arm and scrambled to greet Elisabeth. “We had
so much fun
!” Technically, her voice was too soft to qualify as an actual squeal, but what she lacked in volume she made up for with intensity. “Justin has the best tree ever. Come see!”

They crossed through the kitchen and into the living room. Kaylee gestured toward the tree with a proud “ta-da!”

Elisabeth gaped. “Is that...Silly String clumped around the middle part? The stuff you spray out of cans?”

“Well, I didn’t have any tinsel,” Justin said as if that explained the sticky strands of neon plastic.

“And those are...” Not believing her eyes, she leaned in for a closer look.

“Bats!” Kaylee chirped. “Aren’t they
awesome
?”

Elisabeth ruffled the girl’s hair. “I can honestly say, I’ve never seen a Christmas tree like it.” Halloween lights, popcorn—some of it burned—and glossy paper loops that featured fragmented images of basketballs and a golf course. It was like something from a Tim Burton film, by way of ESPN. “Steven’s waiting in the car. I’m sure he’ll want to hear all about the tree, too. You ready to go?”

“Need my shoes,” Kaylee said, zipping around the corner to collect them.

“She’s a cute kid,” Justin commented.

A kid who’s already way too attached to you
. “Thank you again. We should get going. Steven and I knocked a few tasks off our list but still have a lot to do.”

“A little picking and grinning, some loving and sinning?” His deadpan expression was at odds with his singsong delivery.

She glared. “Enough with the Steve Miller Band jokes.”

“One more?” he pleaded, his eyes twinkling unrepentantly. “I had a good one for ‘
Take the Money and Run.’
”

Fitting. Who knew more about running than Justin? He’d been the only guy she’d ever told “I love you” without the other person saying it first. And he’d bolted like he was trying to outrun a coming apocalypse.

She spun on her heel, ready to collect her kid and get the hell out of Justin’s house. There were too many memories here—breathless, pulse-pounding memories.

Justin followed. “I don’t know when Steven leaves town, but if your mom or sister can babysit some night, you two should look into one of these moonlight tours. They’re pretty romantic. Just your cup of tea.”

“Maybe you’re not a very good judge of what my cup is. Most people wouldn’t call me a romantic.”

“Most people don’t know you like I do.”

At one time, he certainly had known her—she’d opened up to him in ways she never had to anyone else. And he’d rejected her. She bent down to button Kaylee’s coat, then opened the door, glad to be leaving. But she stopped two steps down the sidewalk, turning back to where Justin filled the doorway.

“You
knew
me,” she stressed. “Past tense. You can’t assume I’m the same person I was.”

The real question was, as she adapted to becoming a parent and tried to plan a future she was questioning more and more, did
she
know who she was?

Chapter Seven

As far as Justin was concerned, a shopping mall three days before Christmas was on par with the ninth circle of hell.
What am I doing here?
But the obvious answer to that question stood next to him in the serpentine line to meet Santa Claus. Arden had asked him to come with her after work, and it was damn near impossible to refuse his sister. He had, however, tried to throw Garrett under the bus by asking if she wouldn’t rather wait until her fiancé got to town to take Hope for her inaugural Santa picture.

“I think this will make a nice surprise for him,” she’d insisted. “Besides, it will be evening by the time he gets into town tomorrow. He’ll be hungry and tired from the drive. We probably wouldn’t be able to get here until Tuesday, and taking the baby to the mall on Christmas Eve—are you crazy?”

But going on the evening of December twenty-second, apparently, was completely sane in her book.

He understood why she’d delayed this long. Although Santa had taken up his post at the mall weeks ago, Arden had wanted to wait until the baby was older and stronger before bringing Hope to such a public place. Even now, she insisted that Santa would not be putting his “germ-ridden gloves” on her child. Instead, Arden would hold the baby in the photo and frame a copy to give Garrett on Christmas Eve.

Justin bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet. “Don’t take this as a complaint—you know I’d do anything for you and Hope—but is this line even moving? I feel like we’ve been here for hours.” They’d talked about grabbing a quick dinner in the food court afterward, but at the rate they were going, the mall would close before they made their way to the front.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Arden said. But she stole a glance at her watch and frowned. Luckily, Hope was asleep in her bassinet-style stroller, oblivious to the cacophony around her or the interminable wait.

Justin envied her serenity. To a guy who spent so much time in the great outdoors, the vast blue sky above him and a slope of groomed powder stretched before him, being stuck in the mall was starting to feel like being buried alive—along with a couple hundred other people. If the walls weren’t exactly closing in on him, the crowd certainly was.

He was surrounded by families and youngsters of all types. Some of the more obnoxious kids seemed to view Santa as similar to a hostage negotiator, and they impatiently waited to present him with a list of demands. Other children, especially in the under-five demographic, were shrieking in terror, understandably scared of a large man who stole into homes while everyone slept. It probably didn’t help that adults had filled impressionable heads with stories of an omniscient North Pole spy who watches kids while they’re sleeping
and
while they’re awake. Elsewhere in the mob, siblings squabbled while harried mothers threatened, “If you don’t cool it, right now, we are going home!” Was it wrong that Justin was mentally egging on the juvenile delinquents—at least, the ones in front of him? Anyone who exited the line got Arden and Hope one spot closer.

But it wasn’t the noise of crying and bickering that left him itchy and uncomfortable in his own skin. The happy families were the hardest to take. Mothers and fathers grinned affectionately at each other over the heads of tykes in cute holiday sweaters and bright green dresses. A man stood with his arms around a woman, pressing a quick kiss to the nape of her neck, while identical twin boys burbled happily in their double-stroller.

Justin looked away, desperate to think about something else. “I remember doing this with you,” he heard himself say. “Your first trip to see Santa, I mean.”

“You do?” Arden smiled up at him. Family anecdotes about her infancy were rare. Neither of their parents had survived to share the stories. Justin and Colin, who had been in elementary school and middle school, had been paying more attention to preteen girls than their bald, drooling baby sister. They’d loved Arden, no mistake, but it had never occurred to them to take special note of her first word or how she learned to walk.

“Colin and I didn’t want to go, not at first. We were too old for this kind of thing. And much too cool.”

“Naturally.”

“But Mom insisted. She loved this time of year. She volunteered at the local food pantry and spearheaded toy drives, anything to help share her joy with others. She’d crank up the Christmas carols and sing along while she cooked all our annual favorites. And the woman, she could
not
sing. I mean, neighborhood dogs would start howling. But she always got us to join in anyway.” None of them had much range to speak of, although Colin’s deep voice was surprisingly rich and pleasant when he sang. “She had the three guys in her life wrapped around her finger. She was a bit like you when it came to persuading people to do what she wanted.”

He paused, looking around pointedly.

Arden gave him an impish smile and motioned for him to carry on with his tale.

“Anyway, Mom said that a baby only gets one first picture with Santa, and she wanted both of your brothers to be in the shot with you. While we were in line, Colin turned bright red. A girl from his class walked out of a nearby store with her mother, and Colin was mortified. But the girl noticed you, an adorable chubby-cheeked six-month-old, and started fawning all over you. She asked Mom point-blank to call her if she ever needed a babysitter, and a month or so later, I think that girl was Colin’s first kiss.”

Arden rolled her eyes. “So your sentimental holiday story ended up being about how one of my brothers used to me to charm a girl and ultimately make out with her?”

“Hey, you want heartwarming, go to Hallmark. Sentiment isn’t my specialty.” Not that he was unaffected by the reminiscing. “After Mom got sick, I was so damn grateful for that afternoon and others like it—instances when I didn’t think I wanted to be there but had no idea that our time together was limited. Now, I’m thankful for that twenty minutes we stood in line, joking with each other, having contests to see which of us could make you laugh first, teasing Colin about a pretty classmate... I’m sorry you didn’t have more of those days, with our family still intact.”

Eyes bright, she leaned over to hug him. “You and Colin have been my family. I couldn’t have asked for better brothers.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from him?”

“We’ve played phone tag. I think he’s working pretty erratic hours.”
And that he’s avoiding us
. “He assured me in his last message that he will absolutely be here for Christmas, but I don’t have specifics. He won’t let you down, Arden. No worries, okay?”

“No worries.” Her emotion-clogged tone clashed with the carefree words. Turning her head, she surreptitiously wiped at the tears she seemed to think he couldn’t see.

As a family who’d already had their turn with Santa passed by on the outside of the velvet ropes, Arden gasped indignantly. “Did you see the picture she was carrying? It was off-center, and the lighting was completely wrong.”

He laughed. “I should have known better than to accompany a professional photographer to let someone else take her picture. Is this like that saying about doctors making the worst patients?”

“I’m not being difficult,” she said defensively.

“Never said you were, sis.”

“It’s not wrong to have standards and pride in my work.” She narrowed her eyes as if daring him to correct her.

Ha!
He wasn’t stupid.

“You know, it isn’t too late to scrap this plan,” he told her. “We could go to your studio. I know a few older ski bums who could let me borrow a red suit and some padding. You can take the high-quality portrait Garrett and Hope deserve.”

She poked him in the ribs. “You’re just looking for an excuse to leave.”

“Being here is freaking me out,” he admitted, wondering if he could explain his sudden onset of claustrophobia in a way that would make sense to her.

“This freaks you out?” she echoed. “This? Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you have dawn patrol this morning where you hiked through the mountains with several pounds of
dynamite
strapped to your back?”

“Carefully stowed in my backpack, yes. I’ve had extensive training and years of practice for doing avalanche prevention.” After heavy snowfalls, such as the town had experienced late last night, a patrol often went out to do avalanche prevention. The blasting created controlled avalanches, rather than waiting for an unsuspecting tourist to trigger a slab. Although there hadn’t been much accumulation today, they were expecting another front to move in, dropping more snow tonight and possibly bringing about blizzard conditions. Patrollers knew that “blizzard” didn’t just mean a lot of the white stuff, it referred to dangerously high winds and a serious lack of visibility.

“Guess I was so busy learning about safety on the mountain,” he said, “that I missed the sessions on how to survive the mall during Yuletide.”

“Take heart,” Arden told him. “I think we’ve moved up two places in the past ten minutes.”

“If it keeps up like this, we’ll reach the front just in time for her to have her picture taken with the Easter Bunny,” he quipped. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to go to your studio?”

“Quite. As you pointed out in your story about me, a baby’s first Santa photo is a rite of passage. Besides, practically every photo I’ve given Garrett of her so far has been taken by me. This will be a nice change of pace. But speaking of my studio, Elisabeth called yesterday evening. They were happy with the engagement photos.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Actually...” She pursed her lips. “Some of the takes were great, but there were others I was less pleased with. My job is more than technical proficiency with the equipment. I have to put my clients at ease, find the real them, so to speak.”

“You’re not going to get all New Agey on me and start talking about trying to capture people’s auras on camera, are you?”

She ignored him. “I feel like maybe I didn’t succeed in putting them at ease. A few of the pictures had a stilted quality where they didn’t look like two people in love so much as two people who are supposed to look like they’re in love, like models in a bridal magazine, if that makes any sense.”

He didn’t want to hear this. Elisabeth wasn’t part of his life anymore. She’d moved on. It would be great if he could imagine her deliriously happy with the new man in her life. Justin had been riddled with guilt over hurting her, but as long as he knew she’d found someone better for her, he could tell himself he’d done the right thing. That it had worked out for the best. One door closing, windows opening and all that jazz.

“Justin, I spent time around you two while you were dating. I remember how she looked at you. She doesn’t look at him the same way.”

“Maybe that’s because she’s not the same person anymore.” He parroted Elisabeth’s words from yesterday to his sister. “Stop trying to read into it. And for heaven’s sake, don’t mention this to anyone else. The last thing clients want in a wedding photographer is someone casting a black cloud over the nuptials!”

“I wouldn’t say this to anyone else. But don’t you—”

“Hold that thought.” He reached in his back pocket for his cell phone.
Saved by the ringtone
. He held it up so Arden could see the screen, too. “Hey, look who’s calling. Colin. What’s up, man?”

“Justin? I can barely hear you over the background noise. Where the hell are you? A riot?”

“Close enough. Hang on a sec.” He muted the phone and asked Arden, “Mind if I abandon you for a few minutes? I’m going to look for a quieter corner to take this call.”

“Tell him we miss him and I can’t wait to see him.”

“Will do.”

Justin went toward the end of the mall where a new department store was being built. Since the coming store was still under construction, the corridor was currently a dead end. Few shoppers were around. There were distant sounds of power tools, but even those were melodious compared to the mingled tantrums, joyful shrieks and tattling in the Santa line.

“This better?” he asked Colin.

“Yeah.”

He almost complained about Arden’s dragging him to the mall for the Santa meet and greet, but stopped abruptly, recalling a picture of Colin’s little boy that had once hung on Justin’s fridge. Baby Hope was not his first niece or nephew. Justin had been an uncle in what felt like a former lifetime.

“How are you holding up?” he asked his older brother. Colin had been their rock, the one who’d held them together after their parents died. To witness him crumble was nerve-racking. Justin tried not to draw parallels between Colin and their late father, who’d withdrawn after losing his wife. Was his brother on a similar road to self-destruction?

Not that Colin was sitting around in a recliner, hiding from the world and passively declining. Far from it. He’d tossed away the large animal vet practice he’d built, sold his house and purchased a motorcycle which he drove at breakneck speeds. If he was going to self-destruct, he was being far more proactive about it.

“I’m glad to be out of Cielo Peak,” Colin said candidly. “Easier to breathe when I’m not there.”

“But you
are
coming back for Christmas?” Justin pressed. If his brother backed out now, Arden’s head would explode.

“I’ll be there. I’m a little surprised that you’re the one who’s been leaving me nagging voice mails, though. Christmas isn’t really your thing.”

“Very true. But when you skipped town, you left me in charge of looking after Arden. This means a lot to her. You have to be here.” It wasn’t as if Colin had a high-pressure office position and couldn’t get the time off from work. He’d been drifting aimlessly doing ranching odd jobs based on contacts and references from his veterinarian days.

“I’ll be there by noon on Christmas Eve. Can I crash at your place while I’m in town?”

“You even have to ask?”

“Didn’t want to cramp your style. There’ve been periods of your life where you average a lot of overnight guests.”

“Now is not one of those periods.” It had been weeks since he’d even bought a woman a drink, much less brought a woman home.