Snowbound in Montana (12 page)

“Oh, I didn’t mind helping out in the kitchen. I do a lot of that at Bramble House. And it was an emergency situation, right?”

He nodded, even though that wasn’t quite what he’d meant. Sure her help with the chores had been appreciated, by him as well as Betsy. But it was more her attitude and her cheerful presence that he’d been talking about. She’d been good for moral. And not just the guests.

But he didn’t know how to tell her any of that.

“I think you, Betsy and Griff are the ones who should take the credit. You all did an amazing job under the circumstances.”

“I didn’t do much, but I agree with you about Betsy and Griff. They sure worked hard. Which reminds me, it’s almost time for dinner. I should go help in the kitchen.”

He started to rise, but Eliza stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. “Believe me, I already offered. But Betsy wouldn’t let me. She said she has it handled. I wonder what she’s going to serve?”

“I know it won’t be turkey. But whatever it is, it already smells great.” He wished Eliza hadn’t removed her hand from his arm. Her touch had felt wonderful. Now that the snow had stopped, it seemed likely they’d be able to leave, as scheduled, tomorrow. Which was good, of course. But he needed to make sure he would see her again. Before he lost his chance.

His mouth dry with nerves, he forced himself to speak up. “I hope I’m not out of line—but I’d like to see you again. When we’re back in Marietta.”

She gave him a quick, surprised look, and then smiled. “Oh, you mean to go skiing, and to meet your friends? Sure. We should do that. I need to broaden my social circle. It’s my New Year’s resolution.”

That wasn’t quite what he’d meant. But maybe it was a good thing she’d misunderstood. Now that he thought about it, he must have been crazy to think she would ever go out with him.

He could still feel his ears burning with embarrassment five minutes later when Betsy rang the bell for dinner.

‡

T
he serving of
Christmas dinner could not have been better timed, Eliza thought, as she took her place at the table next to Ted Arbuckle and across from Mary. It had been dark for about an hour now—at this time of year in Montana sunset was around five o’clock—and dozens of candles glowed on the tabletop. Betsy had put out festive place-cards and fortunately Eliza found hers at the opposite end of the room from Marshall’s.

Eliza had a lot of respect for Marshall. And she liked him very much.

In other circumstances she would have been happy to be his friend and hang out with him.

But she sensed he felt more for her. And that he’d been trying to ask her out, earlier, when they were sitting by the fire.

He was too nice of a person for her to lead on. Nor did she want to out-and-out reject him. Avoiding him seemed the kindest option for now.

The delicious aroma turned out to be beef stew, which Betsy served family-style from several beautiful china tureens, two placed on each of the long tables. Fresh baked bread and creamy butter, as well as assorted pickles and olives accompanied the meal. There was no salad as Betsy had long since used up the supply of fresh lettuce, tomatoes and other perishables. Lots of vegetables had been added to the stew, however. Chunks of turnips, carrots, onions as well as colorful green peas and golden corn kernels from the freezer.

While not a traditional Christmas feast, Buck Brackett declared it was the perfect meal to follow a rousing game of hockey.

Remembering all the times he’d complained about “not getting his money’s worth,” Eliza had to glance at Marshall and smile.

But Marshall didn’t return the smile. He didn’t seem to have appreciated Buck’s turnabout, at all, but was staring down at his plate.

Eliza felt an uncomfortable pang of guilt. Was she the reason he was feeling so downcast?

If so, it couldn’t be helped, she told herself, resolutely taking a taste of the stew and finding it every bit as delicious as it looked. So why, then, was it so hard for her to finish even one small serving of it?

For dessert Betsy brought out a flaming Christmas pudding, served with a choice of brandy or hard sauce. Most everyone tried a little of each.

“How on earth did you bake all of this?” Eliza asked Betsy when she also set out a tray of Christmas baking—butter tarts, shortbread cookies and chocolate fudge.

“It’s all from the freezer—I baked it weeks ago. I’ve been saving it so we’d have something special for Christmas Day.”

Along with dessert there was a cheese tray and port, and Eliza felt that it would have been impossible for anyone to feel deprived or disappointed in any way.

Mary Arbuckle agreed with her. “Betsy has really outdone herself with this dessert.”

“The stew was delicious, too,” Ted added. “Really, given the circumstances, we’ve eaten very well this week.”

“I suppose you’re disappointed you didn’t get to ski as much as you expected?” Eliza asked.

“Not really,” Ted admitted. “We just wanted to unplug and relax for the holidays. And we’ve certainly done that!”

“Ted and I don’t get much time together during our regular, working days,” Mary said. “So when we’re on holiday, we tend to stick to ourselves. I have to say, though, I really enjoyed the hockey game today. It was fun.”

“I agree,” Eliza said.

“That Marshall sure is a nice man,” Mary continued. “Are the two of you…?”

“No!” As soon as she’d voiced the denial, she had a sense of being watched, and turned in time to catch Marshall looking her way. Surely, he couldn’t have overheard their conversation, but her cheeks grew warm and she had the illogical feeling of having betrayed him in some way.

Now that dinner was over, she considered slipping away to her room. It would be cold, but she could crawl under the covers and avoid any potential faux pas where Marshall was concerned.

But then Jason Kelly suggested they sing Christmas carols, and everyone seemed to think that was a wonderful idea. Jason sat at the piano, which up to this point only Kevin had attempted to play, and only then for a few short minutes before his mother demanded that he stop.

Without the aid of sheet music, Jason began playing fluently, the melody slowly evolving into the familiar
We Wish You a Merry Christmas.
The lively tune encouraged people to gather around. Sydney went to stand beside her husband, resting her hand on his shoulder as she sang along. The rest of them settled on the nearby sofas and chairs. When Marshall went to sprawl on the rug by the fire—the same spot the two of them had been before dinner—Eliza deliberately chose a chair some distance away.

They sang about Rudolph next, and then Frosty the Snowman, tunes that Kevin appreciated and sang in a loud, off-key voice that Eliza found delightful.

Jason segued to some quieter songs next.
Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire
was followed by the wistful,
I’ll be Home for Christmas.

Eliza found herself remembering her childhood years watching movies in the bedroom on Christmas morning, while her family lounged by the pool, enjoying their tropical vacation. She’d especially loved
The Miracle on 34
^th
Street
and must have watched it about twenty times, at least.

She’d dreamed of having a traditional Christmas herself one day, but only recently, since returning to Marietta, and opening Bramble House to guests, had the dream come true.

She supposed that was why she’d gone all out this year, decorating the house and starting her Christmas blog. She’d been making up for all the non-Christmases of her youth.

But with hindsight, she much preferred Christmas this way. With snow and trees, home-made baking and carols.

Jason played the religious standards next,
Away in a Manger, Silent Night, We Three Kings.
When he began the opening chords to the vocally-challenging
O Holy Night,
everyone grew silent, except for his wife.

Sydney had a beautiful, soulful voice that reminded Eliza of Sarah McLachlan’s. Shivers of delight tingled up Eliza’s spine as Sydney carried the tune to the climactic and emotional peak, before softening into a reverent conclusion. She noticed Jason glance up at his wife, tears glistening in his eyes.

Forgetting her new resolve to avoid him, Eliza glanced at Marshall. He was staring into the fire, looking sad. She wondered if he was thinking of his brother.

There was a collective sigh, and Jason dropped his hands onto his lap.

“That was so beautiful. I think we’ll stop there.” He got up from the bench and gave his wife a tender kiss.

Then Betsy was back, offering herbal teas and cocoa and more plates of cookies. Though still full from dinner, Eliza was unable to resist a cup of peppermint tea and one more shortbread cookie. The fact that they had been cut into snowflake shapes struck her as totally apropos, something she remarked to Sydney when the other woman perched on the chair beside hers.

“This has turned out to be one of my favorite Christmas’s,” Sydney said. “Isn’t that strange? I mean, we had no gifts, no turkey, no heat, no lights…and yet, it’s been really magical.”

“I feel the same way. And your last song was the perfect finish to the day. You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you. I love singing when Jason is playing piano. We belong to the same choir.”

“He obviously loves you a lot. That must be nice.” Eliza was shocked by the longing she heard in her own voice. She’d been so proud of herself for not obsessively thinking about John the past few days. But clearly, she still had a secret yearning inside of her, to be loved like that again.

“I do feel blessed. For a long time I’d been doubting Jason’s love. We wanted to have kids and it was my fault we couldn’t. I thought he must wish he wasn’t stuck with me. I became very bitter and angry—provoking fights over ridiculous things. Well, you saw what I was like at the beginning of the trip.”

“You didn’t seem very happy,” Eliza said, diplomatically.

“I wasn’t. Worse, I was making sure Jason was just as miserable as I was. I guess I hit a new low when I ran off like a spoiled kid on that last ski trip. I’ve been meaning to apologize Eliza, for ruining the day for you. I’ve already apologized to Marshall, but he was so nice about it. He’s a great guy, isn’t he?”

Eliza tensed, ready to ward off another matchmaking attempt.

But Sydney didn’t go there. She was still thinking about herself and Jason. “In fact, it was something Marshall said when he was helping me after I had that fall, that got me thinking. While we were waiting for the skidoo, Jason was fussing over me, and Marshall told us we were lucky we had each other.”

Eliza could imagine him saying something just like that.

“His words stuck with me. And with Jason, too. We were so hung up on the fact that we couldn’t have children, we forgot to be grateful for what we did have. Each other.”

Eliza didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded, which was all the encouragement Sydney needed.

“It’s shockingly easy to take someone for granted, until you find yourself alone and lonely. I’m afraid of how close to the edge I pushed our relationship.”

Eliza managed a smile this time. She would not characterize herself as either alone or lonely. But she couldn’t deny she still yearned for the blissful happiness she’d experienced during her best times with John. She’d felt so much more alive, then, as if being connected to him on the closest level, had made her somehow more connected with herself at the same time.

“Anyway, sorry for yakking away like this. I’m glad I had a chance to apologize, though. I really am sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

“I’m just glad it ended relatively well.”

“My ankle is only slightly swollen today. I’m sure I’ll be back to normal soon.” Sydney gave her a bright smile, then stood up. “I should get going. Jason’s waiting…”

“Merry Christmas, Sydney.” Eliza watched the young woman seek out her husband. Jason wrapped his arm around her waist, letting her lean on him as they made their way up the stairs. She could understand the young couple wanting some alone time on this special day. But perversely, she suddenly felt reluctant to go to her own room where she’d be so very much alone.

She glanced around the room. The Arbuckles had joined Tina and Alec Ritchie in a four-person game of Scrabble. Buck and Bonnie were in the games room with their daughters, and Anna was playing a card game with Marshall by the fire.

Everyone was occupied, except for Kevin.

His mother seemed to notice this at that same moment. Tina lifted her gaze up from the Scrabble board and frowned. “Has anyone seen Kevin?”

At that moment, the door to the drying room flung open. “Hey guys! Come outside! You have to see this!”

They all rushed to grab their coats and slip on their boots, Kevin dancing from one foot to the other in excitement. When they were ready, they slipped outside, following Kevin to a point about twenty yards from the lodge.

“Look up!” Kevin instructed.

Eliza did.

And she marvelled.

Never had she seen so many stars, not just twinkling, but pulsing with brilliant, silver light. The thick band of the milky-way arced over her head, and she was newly astounded by the understanding that this was her galaxy, the celestial world of which the earth was just one, tiny part.