Countdown to Christmas - Sugar Cookie Kisses

 

Sugar Cookie Kisses

 

Christmas is a time for miracles...will Katy claim hers?

 

Katy Sullivan has brushed aside past hurts to make a name for herself in the small town of Holly Haven. Her Main Street Boutique is a successful showplace while her sugar cookies are destined to repeat blue-ribbon fame at this year's Christmas festival. All is well...until Caleb Kendrick rides back into town. Caleb Kendrick returns home to Holly Haven to help his sister rebound from a flare-up of Multiple Sclerosis. He's thankful to find high school sweetheart Katy Sullivan unattached, and hopes for a second chance to win her love. But, Katy won't easily forget that he broke once her heart--even though that was a decade ago. Christmas is a time for miracles, and Caleb aims to claim his. But will Katy block the blessing?

 

1st Chapter

 

Katy Sullivan bobbled double-stacked bins of sugar cookies as she navigated the crowded school hallway. Holly Haven Elementary School’s Christmas Family Night was cranking up to full-speed-ahead, and she wondered once again how her sister had talked her into spending the better part of a busy work day baking her special recipe cookies for this event. It wasn’t as if Katy didn’t already have enough to fill her to-do list; managing her Main Street Boutique kept her especially busy this time of year, with holiday shoppers hunting for the perfect gifts.

“Oh, good…you made it.” Liz rushed up to greet her, and snatched one of the plastic bins from Katy’s arms. Liz lifted the lid, inhaled appreciatively. “Oh, these smell heavenly, and just when I was beginning to worry you’d burned the sweets.”

“Me…burn my soon-to-be-famous, top-secret-recipe cookies?” Katy blew out a breath, desperately trying to move the strands of hair that spilled across her forehead to tickle her cheek. “Never. Surely you know better that that.”

“Well…the thought did cross my mind—for a second or two. After all, we all have our off days.” Liz rolled her eyes. “I had one yesterday, and I hope I’ve fully recovered.”

“You had an off-day? Impossible. You are never less than perfect, sis.” Indeed, Katy had spent the better part of her life trying to live up to the standards her twin sister had set. Liz had penned a life plan by the age of fourteen, and she’d spent the last decade-and-a-half conquering it. She’d graduated college a full year early while Katy opted for the five-year plan. By twenty-two, even before Katy donned a graduation cap and gown, Liz was happily engaged to Curt.

By Liz’s twenty-third birthday, the couple had married, and by her twenty-fourth they’d built and moved into Liz’s dream house—a whopping three-story deal near the outskirts of town. Merely a few months later, Janie came along; and following half-a-decade of teaching, Liz had been named the principal of Holly Haven Elementary School.

Now, five years later, Curt captained trans-continental airline flights while Liz had been named Holly Haven School District’s Administrator of the Year for two years running. Katy’s head spun simply trying to keep up with all the details of their busy lives.

“Never mind about my faux pas. It’s getting dangerously close to time to open our doors for this fundraiser, and right now there are still a million-and-two things left to do.” Liz glanced at her wristwatch as impeccably neat, cropped blonde hair framed her face of perfectly-arched cheekbones and porcelain skin. You’d never know she’d already put in a ten-hour workday. Unlike Katy, who chose to wear her natural curls in their true strawberry blonde color—a sign of her Irish heritage—whose hair constantly looked as if she’d just stepped out of wind storm.

Unlike Katy. That seemed to be Katy’s mantra when it came to Liz. It wasn’t a bad thing in Katy’s mind. They were just different where everyone expected them to be…well, identical. Liz, unlike Katy, was minus a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. When the two were young children, before hair dye and make-up, those freckles—or lack of them—were one of the only ways the teachers at school could tell them apart. That led to a shipyard of laughs and one very memorable phone call to their parents.

“I need you to take these down the hall to the fishing game in the Janie’s classroom, at the far end of the kindergarten wing, Katy.” Liz directed without missing a beat. “I’ll help the others get set up and ready for the crowd forming in the foyer. Janie can show you the way.”

Unlike Katy, Liz’s mind didn’t wander all over the place while escorting cookies down the school hall.

“I know the way.” Katy had visited the class for show-and-tell day just a few weeks ago, when Janie begged her to come and share cookies for her classmates to decorate. Hence her invitation to this Christmas Family Night event—word of her delicious cookies had spread like wildfire through the halls of Holly Haven. And, just last week, Janie’s teacher had invited her back for the class’s Career Day, where Katy had shared an assortment handmade jewelry, scarves, and handbags she’d fashioned for her boutique. She’d brought inexpensive baubles and allowed every child to create his or her own art design. The girls had practically squealed with delight and even the boys had loved the activity.

“I can help you carry those.” Janie swooped in beside Katy, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she reached for a cookie container. “Mama says I’m strong.”

“That you are.” Katy handed a smaller tub that held decorating supplies to her niece, who balanced it carefully in tiny hands. At five years old and nearly halfway through kindergarten, she already had the take-charge attitude of her mother that made her seem older and wiser than her years. Katy supposed she came by it honestly. Both Curt and Liz proved headstrong. “You lead the way.”

“OK, follow me, Aunt Katy.” Blonde pigtails bobbed as the heels of Janie’s black patent leather shoes clacked across polished tile. She was dressed in crisp evergreen holiday velvet and white tights…a miniature fashionista. “Mr. Caleb—he’s Billy Kendrick’s uncle—has been waiting for you.”

Katy knew well the Billy whom Janie spoke of.  He was the son of Mariah Kendrick, one of Katy’s closest high school friends, and he had been full of questions during both of her visits to the school, practically talking her ear off with chatter about the treasures his uncle Caleb had scored during his many cross-country treks. The kid was a firecracker for sure, and with his tousled dark hair and eyes the intriguing color of seafoam, he’d proved the spitting image of his uncle Caleb Kendrick…the same Caleb Kendrick who’d broken Katy’s heart.

“Caleb?” Katy’s heart did a weird little two-step as his name whispered from her lips. She already knew the answer, yet she had to add, “It can’t be…it isn’t possible…I never imagined he’d be here tonight. Are you sure it’s Caleb Kendrick…the Caleb Kendrick?”

“Are there two Caleb Kendrick’s?”

“I don’t think so.” The world couldn’t possibly handle two.

“Then yes, that’s right. Billy’s uncle just opened the antique store next to yours. Mr. Caleb volunteered to help with our fishin’ game when Mrs. Onsteen got the flu.” Janie peered over the decorating bin, her gaze narrowed with a sort of confusion that said all the puzzle pieces weren’t fitting together for her. “You look upset, Aunt Katy. Why?”

“I’m just…it’s just…” Why, exactly, was she upset? It was an inevitable fact of life that she and Caleb would run into each other again, eventually, especially in a small town like Holly Haven. She just didn’t expect it to be this soon.

It’s been ten years, Katy…more than ten years. And you’ve spent the better part of that decade dodging him. The gig is finally up…

“Mama says you and Mr. Caleb used to be kind of special friends when you were in high school. What does ‘kind of special’ mean?”

“Umm…hmm…” She wasn’t often rendered speechless, yet Katy paused as a worried frown caused her lips to sag at the corners. She managed, “Caleb and I were…we were…I was…”

“His girlfriend?”

“Yes.” Katy swallowed hard as the thought invaded. “For a while.”

“But you’re not now?” Janie hugged the box tighter to her chest, as if trying to squeeze an answer from it. “Why?”

“I…we…” Katy couldn’t manage an adequate explanation. Even she still failed to understand what, exactly, had transpired that final day…in those last heart-wrenching moments when Caleb had ridden off, literally, into the sunset.

“Mama says Mr. Caleb still likes you. She says his eyes lit up when she told him you’d be here tonight to help, and that you were makin’ cookies. Are you gonna go out with him again—maybe to the Christmas tree lighting or for a sleigh ride along Main Street to see all the pretty holiday displays?”

“I don’t think—” Katy paused, had to catch the door jamb to steady herself. Her breath wouldn’t seem to come. “No…I have no plans to do any such thing with Caleb.”

“Hey, are you OK?” Janie bobbled the decorating crate as she tugged at Katy’s shirt hem. “You look like Mama did yesterday when she told Daddy she backed the car into the garage door.”

“She what?” Katy’s eyes grew wide and her thoughts came into focus. Liz had a perfect driving record…never so much as a speeding ticket or a fender-bender. “When did your mama manage to do that?”

“Last night. She called Daddy on the phone to tell him—he’s flyin’ his plane for the airline, you know—but Daddy wasn’t mad at all. He said it’s OK…it was just an accident…and he called the repairman for Mama. Daddy said we all make mistakes.”

“Yes, we do.” And as far as Katy was concerned, she wouldn’t repeat her mistakes, especially those she’d stumbled through with Caleb.

“So, you’re OK?” Janie’s brown eyes shone like a pair of newly-minted pennies. “Are you havin’ a headache like Mama does after a rough day at work?”

“Kind of…just a little.”

“Should I get Mama?”

“No, I’m fine. I just didn’t…” Katy sighed and glanced back at Liz, who’d not made her way down the hall yet seemed to hear every word of their conversation. Now, Liz simply waggled her fingers as she offered a lopsided grin along with a slight shrug as if to say, “Buck up little camper, where’s your holiday spirit? You act like you’re the one who plowed your SUV through the garage. It’s only Caleb. You’ll survive this.”

Easy for her to say. Katy grimaced and turned from Liz with a death glare.

“C’mon then, Aunt Katy.” Janie nodded toward a set of double doors sporting signage that read, Kindergarten Wing. “Mr. Caleb said if you didn’t get here soon he’d have to sing for the fishing game prize, and that’d be awful. Mama says he sounds like a walrus with a bad cold.”

“Is that so?” Katy’s trepidation segued to quivering laughter, because she knew Liz was teasing and Caleb’s singing voice was anything but abrasive. When Katy and Caleb were classmates at Holly Haven High he’d sung to her from the bed of his pickup truck on a stretch of warm, lazy summer nights beneath the stars. They’d even slow-danced a time or two while he serenaded. The gesture had made her feel loved and special beyond words. But that had been years ago…too many seasons ago to count. When Caleb left town following graduation, all but shattering her heart, Katy thought he’d stay gone forever. But he’d returned, and a couple of weeks ago, he’d opened an antique shop right next door to her Main Street Boutique.

Twelve days ago, to be exact. Katy knew, because she’d seen Caleb with her own eyes when he stopped by the boutique one afternoon looking for her. Of course, she’d closed the door to her back office and pretended to be busy—well, she didn’t really have to pretend that part because it seemed when it came to managing the boutique she was always busy—and said she couldn’t take visitors when her assistant Cassie buzzed in with Caleb’s request to speak with her. She’d managed to avoid him for a full dozen days, though he’d set up shop right alongside her, just to stumble into him here at Holly Haven’s Christmas Family Night.

Who would have thought?

“Yep, that’s so.” Janie’s response brought Katy back to the task at hand. “A singing walrus, that’s funny!”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Katy drew a long breath. She shook her head to clear memories of time spent with Caleb and the odd sense of longing that seeped like warm cider through her veins. She’d have to get past this train of thought and quick if she and Caleb planned to make their futures in the same town. And, from the chatter she’d heard through the grapevine, he’d returned for the long haul. Katy plastered on a smile and winked conspiratorially as she shoved open the doors with a swing of her hips. “We don’t want to scare away the customers.”

“Then we’d better get these cookies delivered to the fishing game quick.” Janie started off again, skipping to close the distance while her patent leather shoes clacked a staccato beat along the floor tile.

They rounded a corner that opened into a suite of kindergarten classrooms merrily decorated in handmade holiday crafts and strands of colorful, blinking LED lights. Christmas music spilled from a portable CD player on the counter. Above the upbeat tempo of piano chords and jingle bells, Katy heard the murmur of voices.

She recognized one of them as—

“Well, hello there, Katy.” Caleb glanced up from a where he sat in a chair that seemed impossibly too small for his broad, tall frame. He held an old-fashioned wooden fishing pole in one hand, the end adorned with a laundry clip instead of a hook and the handle graced with a generous red-velvet bow. Eyes the color of an ocean storm skimmed over her as an appreciate grin bowed his lips. “So, you’ve finally come out of hiding. You look…good.”

“I haven’t been hiding.” She barely voiced the words, because Caleb’s assertion rang true. She had been hiding. For a moment or two, a breath stuck like a blob of glue to her throat. Time had been good to Caleb; he’d lost none of the muscle he’d honed so meticulously while being the star receiver at Holly Haven High. And that hair…maybe it lay just a little bit shorter, but the waves toppled as thick and dark over those mesmerizing seafoam eyes as Katy remembered. Despite her resolve to stay strong against his charm, memories bubbled up and spilled over. “I’ve been busy with work and marketing and penning Christmas cards and baking and…”

“Might I find a card in your stack addressed to me?”

“Caleb…I don’t even know your address anymore.”

“I’m staying at the farmhouse…with Mariah. I thought you would have heard by now.”

“Mariah might have mentioned it…in passing.” Of course she had, and Katy had done a good job of glossing right over that particular nugget of information. With good reason, too. She knew the farmhouse well, having spent the better part of her childhood there hanging out with Mariah on long summer days and then later with Caleb. She and Caleb had spent hours beneath the massive weeping willow in the side yard, wishing and dreaming; and a creek that ran the rear length of the property was perfect for wading and skipping rocks on warm summer days. Later…as the pair headed toward graduation, stargazing and kisses had come…and then, finally, the leaving.

The memory stung. Just because Mariah remained a good friend, didn’t mean Katy had to offer Caleb the proverbial olive branch.

“Of course, well…My mistake.” Caleb studied her as if he read her mind. “Let me help you with those containers.” He rose from the chair and took the cookie bins from Katy’s hands. “Billy, come out and see the bounty I just snagged. Maybe Katy will let you taste test these delicious morsels before we start handing them out.”

Billy scrambled from beneath a platform that had been fashioned with white cotton dusted with glitter as well as a touch of silver foil to look like an ice-fishing hole.

“Hi, Miss Katy.” He offered a quick wave as he brushed too-long hair from his eyes. Mariah probably hadn’t been able to get him to the barber’s in a while, since she was feeling poorly. The realization tugged at Katy’s heart. Perhaps Caleb would see to it, now that he was home again.

Home…

“Hi, there.” Katy was warmed by Billy’s eager welcome. At least one of the Kendrick men had a shred of manners. “How are you?”

“Great. Uncle Caleb is going to show me how to hook the treats, but we were waiting on you to bring them.” He scampered over to Caleb and reared up on his tiptoes to peek into the oversized plastic containers. “Are these the cookies?”

“Affirmative.” Caleb mussed Billy’s hair. “Take a sniff.” He popped open the corner of a container and slid it Billy’s way as the aroma of brown sugar and warm, creamy butter drifted up to tickle. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Wow.” Billy tossed Katy an eager look over one shoulder. “Uncle Caleb says you make the best sugar cookies ever. He knows, ’cause you used to bake them ’specially for him, right Miss Katy?”

“That’s right…once upon a time.” The memory of it caused Katy’s heart to ache just a little.

“Katy and I once shared a kiss over a sugar cookie,” Caleb offered, slanting a look her way. The grin on his face might have melted butter. “Do you remember, Katy?”

She did…all too well. It hadn’t just been a kiss…it had been her first kiss. And Caleb had stolen her breath, literally. They’d been standing in the farmhouse kitchen, having just pulled the baking sheet from the oven. Warmth drifted as Caleb leaned in, his hand resting at the small of her back, and the room had spun, her knees had buckled, and she’d have hit the floor if he hadn’t caught her in his arms and held her. She’d been all of seventeen, and thinking, right up until then, that she’d never know what it felt like to be kissed—really kissed.

It had been worth the wait.

“You two kissed. Really?” Billy asked.

“Really.” Caleb nodded.

“That’s gross.” Billy’s mouth twisted and he scrubbed his lips for emphasis. “I’m never kissin’ a girl…except for Mom, that is…on the cheek.”

“You’ll feel differently one day.” Caleb laughed. “But there’s plenty of time for that. For now, we’ll just stick to enjoying the cookies.”

“Oh, they are the delicious.” Janie nodded to solidify the fact. “Aunt Katy’s good at lots of stuff, but her holiday cookies are the best. Last year she won the blue ribbon at the Holly Haven Christmas Cookie Bake-off. No one can beat her.”

“If I remember correctly, that’s spot on.” Caleb nodded appreciatively as he slanted a look Katy’s way. “And, if my memory serves me right, her kisses…Yep, they’re worthy of a blue-ribbon, too.”

 

Purchase Sugar Cookie Kisses

 

 

Week 53: A Boulder Creek Christmas (Mary Manners)

A mischievous Christmas angel is determined to have her way this holiday season... 

Alani O'Dwyer offered her heart to Ryan Connolly years ago, and he tossed it aside without so much as a backward glance. Though the town of Boulder Creek dubs him a hero, she vows she'll never again fall victim to his charms.

Ryan Connolly captains a raucous crew of firefighters at the Boulder Creek Fire Department, yet he's unprepared for the adventure of falling in love with beautiful and headstrong Alani O'Dwyer.

But when a meddling angel at the annual Fighters for Hire charity auction brings Ryan and Alani together, even regrets from the past can't thwart Ryan's plans to make her his own.

1st Chapter:

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” 

~ James 2:14-17 ~

Alani O’Dwyer swept locks of trimmed hair into a pile on the tile floor as she hummed along to the melody of White Christmas that drifted from the salon’s surround-sound speakers. Outside the shop’s front window, snow flurries danced through the air as traffic eased along Main Street. With Thanksgiving a mere memory, December had pranced in and Christmas now perched nicely on the holiday horizon. The increase in clientele at Lani’s Styles and Smiles Salon over the past several days claimed proof of Boulder Creek’s excitement over the impending celebration.

“Here comes your five o’clock,” Chloe Connolly called from the wall-length front display window as she laced a strand of mini-lights around a showcase of upcoming advertised products. “And he looks like he can use a bit more than a trim and shave.”

“He?” Though it was not unusual for men to frequent the salon, Alani didn’t recall adding anyone of the male persuasion to the appointment register for this afternoon, nor did she remember penciling in any clients past the four-thirty slot. Friday evenings were usually light as far as customers went, and she could almost always count on closing up shop before dark. “Who booked him?”

“I did.” Chloe positioned the last of the lights around pair of jumbo-sized color-shield shampoo and conditioner pump bottles and then turned from the window to face Alani. Her dangly earrings caught the overhead light, enhancing wide set eyes the color of faded denim. Dark, choppy bangs slipped across her forehead to frame an oval face. “He called in a few minutes ago and I just couldn’t say no. He’s a hardship case.”

“A hardship…” Alani lifted her gaze to the glass and her breath caught at the sight of Ryan Connolly loping along the boulevard. Long limbs moved fluidly as he slanted his head slightly right, then left and right once more in a cursory check for oncoming traffic before he stepped from the curb and crossed over to the salon’s walkway. Midnight-black hair—a little too much on the longish side for Alani’s taste, peeked from beneath a toboggan that set off the electric-blue of his eyes. “Oh, no…you’ll have to take this one, Chloe. After all, he’s your brother.”

“No can do…not today.” She shook her head as she glanced toward the closest mirror, briefly studying her reflection. “I’m expected at the convention center in an hour to prep for the fundraiser tonight, and I still have to head home first to get glammed up.”

“But you can’t leave me in a lurch. I can’t…I won’t—”

“It’s a haircut and a shave, Lani.” Chloe shook her head as she lifted a hand to inspect the shimmery-red polish on her nails. “Good grief, I don’t know which one of you is more hard-headed than the next. You know Ryan has a thing for you. Why don’t you just give him a chance?”

“A thing?” Alani lowered her voice so as not to distract Mrs. Wexell, who was flipping through a magazine near the coffeemaker as her salty-gray hair adapted to the hairspray shield Lani had applied to ensure each strand remained in place until next week’s visit. Mrs. Wexell proved as steady as the morning sunrise; Lani could count on fixing her hair every Friday at 3:00 sharp. “I did give him a chance—once—and you know how far south that ship sailed.”

“That was years ago, Lani. People change.”

“I know, because I’ve changed, and I’m not going to fall for your brother—or any other guy—again. FYI…I’m not interested in a thing—or a fling—or anything of the sort. I’m…I’m…”

“Blushing.”

“Chloe…” Alani swept the tufts of clipped hair to the central vacuum panel as Mrs. Wexell glanced their way, grinning ruefully, as if drunk on every word of the conversation. Lani activated the vacuum motor with a tap of her foot, and the surge of a whirr sucked up the mess. As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the wall-paneled mirror, she realized Chloe was right; a ribbon of crimson tinged both cheeks, rivaling the color of her hair. A slow-moving swath of heat merely punctuated her condition as, like a wave, it rolled up and crested the nape of her neck. She cleared her throat, searching for an even tone as the rush of her pulse betrayed her. She lowered her voice, turning her back to Mrs. Wexell’s prying eyes. “I wish you would give up your quest to play matchmaker—Ryan and I…well, it’s just not going to happen. Ever.”

“Ever is a very long time. And who said anything about matchmaking? It’s just a haircut, Lani…and it looks like my brother can use a bath, as well, but that will have to wait until later. Must have been a hard day at the office.”

Alani knew good and well Ryan’s office was the fire hall directly across the street. He’d volunteered there through high school, and had been hired on full-time the day he turned eighteen following graduation their senior year of high school. Now, nearly a decade later, he’d climbed the ranks to Captain of the Boulder Creek Fire Department, overseeing a raucous and hardy crew of a dozen full-time and twice-as-many volunteer firefighters.

A bell over the door chimed as Ryan strode through. The woodsy scent of smoke followed him like a halo. His face was smudged with soot, and when he tugged the hunter green wool toboggan from his head, heat-singed bangs fell across his forehead to frame eyes as blue as cobalt.

“What happened to you?” Mrs. Wexell called from her seat near the drink station before Ryan could get a word in. Her voice rang with the aged rasp of someone who’d seen the downhill side of seven decades and carried the wisdom to prove it. “You look like something the cat didn’t even bother to drag in.”

Chloe covered her mouth with the palm of her hand to stifle a snicker as Alani pursed her lips. Mrs. Wexell would sure have something to talk about when her daughter returned from Jenkins Five and Dime down the street to drive her home.

“Brush fire over on Twelfth and Magnolia got a little out of hand, Mrs. Wexell. No worries, though. We got it under control.” Ryan nodded as if to emphasize the point. “You’re looking rather lovely this afternoon. Who did your hair?”

“Alani, of course.” Mrs. Wexell lifted her hand to pat the lacquered ’do as a smile spread across her face, enhancing deep laugh-lines at the corners of her rheumy eyes. “Thank you for the compliment, son. I wanted to look dapper for the gala tonight. It’s a mighty generous thing you and your crew have been organizing to help bolster this town. A community garden is a fine idea. God will surely smile on your giving heart.”

“It’s nothing.” Ryan stuffed the toboggan into the side pocket of his jacket. “My crew and I enjoy giving back to the people of our community. You’re the real hero, Mrs. Wexell…funding the lion’s share of the library arboretum last year. I’ve heard nothing but positive feedback concerning that project.”

“How did you find out about my funding?” She jabbed a finger his way. “It was supposed to be a secret.”

“Well, secrets don’t usually last long around here.” Ryan made a locking motion along his lips and then mimed tossing the key over his right shoulder. “But it won’t go any farther than me…and this room.”

“Fair enough. Now, I suppose Alani ought to get to work on you. It’s going to take an act of God to restore your singed hair to anything presentable and to scrape that…that sooty rug of fur from your face.” Mrs. Wexell nodded with one quick tip of her head and then made a flicking motion with her hand as if to brush off further conversation as she turned her attention back to the magazine. “Go on…get to it now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ryan’s soft laughter rumbled like the roll of a distant thunderstorm as he brushed snowflakes from the collar of his jacket. They swirled through the air before sinking and melting into the tile around his feet. His gaze drifted right, and a smile curved his full lips. “Hello, Lani. How’s business?”

The shortened version of her name slipped off his tongue like hot chocolate drizzled with rich fudge. Others called her Lani, but somehow, it never sounded quite as endearing as when Ryan employed the nickname.

“Good…fine.” Alani turned away as flames licked her cheeks. She placed the broom back in its spot along the wall at the corner of the station as she murmured, “Did you get hurt today?”

“Hurt?”

“By the brush fire?” She ventured a glance back over her right shoulder, chastising herself for even caring. She shouldn’t. Caring for Ryan would only lead to heartache. Oh, how she knew that firsthand. Even so, she continued. “Your hair…as Mrs. Wexell so aptly pointed out, is scorched.”

“Oh, that…” His hand went to the ragged strands. “No, I’m good…it’s nothing a long, hot shower won’t cure when I make it home. But, for now, I just need a trim and a shave, if you have the time.”

“Well…” Lani busied herself straightening product along the shelves that lined the wall. “As a matter of fact I was just about to—”

“Take care of you,” Chloe cut in, crossing the room to turn the faux-leather chair at Alani’s station to face Ryan. “Have a seat, big brother.” She used the endearment though Lani knew, as twins, Ryan stood merely twelve minutes Chloe’s senior. “Time’s not going to stand still for you. And it’s not going to stand still for me, either, so I’m out of here while you two do your thing. Catch you both on the flip side.”

“Bye, sis. Be safe.” Ryan settled into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. “This snow has the roads a little slick.”

“Of course.” She flashed a smile as she snatched her coat from a hook on the wall and slipped into it. Her purse, stashed in the bottom file cabinet drawer behind the check-out counter, came next. “Y’all have fun now. Play nice.” She positioned the purse strap over her shoulder as she nodded toward the drink station. “Keep an eye on them, Mrs. Wexell.”

“Oh…I am.” Mrs. Wexell glanced up from the magazine with a knowing smile. “And the Good Lord is, as well. No worries there. Trust me, dear.”

“Of course I do.” Chloe lifted the hood of her coat to shield her head from the snow as she made her way to the exit. The door closed softly behind her, bringing a jingle of the overhead bell to signal her parting.

“Well, all I have to say is that playing nice is no fun…no fun at all.” Ryan shrugged from his jacket, tossed it into the empty seat beside him, and stilled as Lani secured a towel around his neck. “Ahh…this is the ticket. Just take a little off the top, Lani, and trim it up. And the shave…”

She reached for the electric shears. “If you insist.”

“Oh, I do. I have to look my best tonight. The auction starts in a few hours.”

“Auction?”

“You know…Fighters for Hire to raise money for the Boulder Creek Community Garden. It’s this year’s community service project.”

“Oh, right…of course. How could I forget?”

Her tone betrayed her, and Ryan’s slanted look told her he sensed the truth; the auction was all she had thought about for several days now…the better part of the week since the plans for the garden garnered final approval. It would be planted on the North end of the town center, midway between the fire hall and Styles and Smiles.

Since Ryan had become Captain of the fire department three years ago, he led his crew in an annual Christmas holiday service project aptly named Fighters for Hire. Each member of the crew volunteered to be auctioned out for a day’s worth of hours during the coming year, completing a list of honey-do projects for the highest bidder. The fundraiser proved wildly popular, and its success was renowned across a five-county radius. Copycat auctions sprang up across the region, and news reporters flocked to cover the event, headlining it on all four local channels during the nightly eleven o’clock slot.

Three years ago, funds went to Children’s Hospital, two years ago they were earmarked for the local animal shelter, and last year the Boulder Creek Senior Center benefitted. This year the community would benefit from a community garden and greenhouse meant to supply vegetables to town residents via the local food ministry…if the funds proved to be enough to carry the project.

“Really…how could you?” Ryan winked. “I’m sure Chloe’s mentioned it at least a hundred times. She was on the planning board.”

“I know, and yes.” Alani could almost feel Mrs. Wexell’s stare burning a hole through her back as she worked to tame Ryan’s unruly hair. She lowered her voice. “She has mentioned it a time or two…or ten.”

“So you’re coming?”

“No…not this year.”

“Why not?” He frowned as disappointment shadowed his eyes. “You’ve never missed the festivities.”

“I know but this year I have…other plans.” Alani reached for the spray bottle and, with a few quick pulls of the trigger, dampened his hair. The extensive media coverage assured that, despite her absence from the gala, she’d get her fill of Ryan in his tux, his rugged good looks groomed to perfection while the cobalt tie and cummerbund enhanced the blue of his eyes. The camera loved him, and women flocked to him, falling over themselves in their attempts to garner undivided attention. 

Face it—everyone loved Ryan Connolly. He rescued children and puppies from burning buildings on a weekly basis and had a smile that could melt ice off a snowman’s hat. Yet he’d stolen Alani’s heart, and then cast it aside without so much as a glance in the proverbial rearview mirror.

Even so, by all accounts Ryan remained the town sweetheart…an angel by popular decree.

But he wasn’t Lani’s angel...not by a longshot. And he’d never be, not as long as she had a breath in her. Once bitten, twice shy. And she remained a self-professed, virtual recluse when it came to Ryan Connolly.

So this year she’d put her foot down and stay far away from him on his night in the eye of the media storm. She didn’t want his attention. She’d had that sort of attention a handful of years ago, and it had brought only heartache.

“Other plans, huh? Well, is that so?” Ryan’s voice dipped and danced with the holiday music as he cocked an eyebrow and studied her reflection in the mirror. “What sort of plans…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I do… mind, that is.” Alani took up a comb, tugged the close-set teeth through the thick waves of his Ryan’s hair with a little more force than necessary. Water dripped along the nape of his neck and his slight grimace brought a prickle of satisfaction. It was small compensation for the misery he’d caused her over the years. She’d trusted him once, with her heart and her future, and he’d shattered that trust; she wouldn’t again make the mistake of trusting him.

Even so, how could she begin to explain that for three years running at the Fighters for Hire auction her heart had faltered with waves of disappointment as she’d watched him go to the highest bidder? Last year the victor was some bleached-blonde in a low-cut sequined number who’d traveled from two towns over for the sole purpose of snagging Ryan’s handy-man services. Alani could blame no one but herself—pride kept her from bidding because, after all, when it came to Ryan Connolly good sense dictated she would be best-served by keeping her money—and her heart—tucked away deep in her pocket.

Nonetheless, Alani could use help with a few projects around the small, aging house that she’d inherited from her grandmother when Grandma Cora passed away a year ago; it was laden with character and warm memories, yet falling apart at the seams. But she’d have to figure out how to accomplish at least the most pressing projects on her own, because she’d never be able to pay Ryan—or anyone else, for that matter.

So, what was the point of going to the auction? She’d write a check for a modest donation to help support the community garden—an amount she could afford to part with—and call it a day. Spending the evening tucked away with a paperback and a cup of hot chocolate was the smartest move she could make…affording as much distance as possible between her and Ryan Connolly.

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Week 52: A Splash of Christmas (Mary Manners)

This holiday season is filled with the perfect blend of heartwarming surprises splashed with a dose of sweet romance.

When Faith O' Fallon's best friend ropes her into attending a popular reality show audition, the last thing she expects to find at the studio is the love of her life. Ben Ward resents his family for coercing him into holding auditions to snag a date for the holiday episode of their reality show, Poolside Oasis. But when a studio mishap accidentally matches him with the lovely, rambunctious Faith O'Fallon, he finds that sometimes family knows best. This holiday season is filled with the perfect blend of heartwarming surprises splashed with a dose of sweet romance.

1st Chapter:

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”  ~ 1 Corinthians 13:2  

Faith O’Fallon flipped through a notebook on the cluttered desk of her office at the Mountain Light Children’s Home as beads of perspiration collected along the nape of her neck. A box fan set to high speed in the window chased a sticky note from the scribble-splattered blotter, and Faith fell to her knees to retrieve it as it flitted across scuffed tile toward the foot of the file cabinet.

Snatching the slip of paper, Faith sucked in a deep, ragged breath. This task she’d recently bulldozed into seemed beyond impossible to accomplish. Yes, indeed…that’s what planning Mountain Light’s Christmas party while knee-deep into the humidity-clad days of Indian summer, with the office air conditioning stubbornly on the fritz—again—seemed to be. But Faith stood determined to see this task through to the end despite all the good, the bad, and the ugly that it brought along.

The Bad: check—she’d been turned down now at least half-a-dozen times by supporters who’d opened their pockets during previous years without so much as a flinch. The Ugly: check—the heat and oppressive humidity which lurked around every corner did little to nudge her or others in the community into the Christmas spirit. 

The Good? Faith had nothing going in that area. That particular quality appeared to be AWOL at the moment. 

Faith lowered the speed of the box fan as she collected the last of the scattered sticky notes and settled back into the desk chair. The sound of voices drifted…laughter mingled with shouts of glee and the light spatter of an argument here and there as children played with water toys on the side lawn. One of the counselors had, to the boundless delight of the kids, set up a few sprinklers to combat the sweltering September heat since the kids were out of school due to a teacher in-service day. 

Faith couldn’t remember such a string of warm September days. The meager shower of water from the sprinklers wasn’t much in the way of recreational activities; a pool would certainly prove an all-around much better option. But said pool seemed a flight of fancy and stood purely out of the realm of financial possibility for the children’s home as Faith still struggled to procure so much as the tiniest bit of funding for the in-house holiday party and modest Christmas gifts for the kids. 

She needed to secure a few compassionate and willing donors with deep pockets, and quick. Christmas loomed just a little more than three months away and the shopping and planning would require every bit of those precious days.

Faith smoothed a wrinkle from her linen skirt and readjusted the strap of one sandal, wishing she’d thought to don more sensible footwear this morning.

The generous heels nipped and pinched with each step, and she longed to kick them off and join the carefree kids who ran through lush grass that beckoned from the yard beyond her office window.

No time for that. Focus, Faith, focus...

Faith was in her first year as the recreation director here at the children’s home, and she’d quickly come to love every one of the kids, aged five to seventeen, with whom she crossed paths on a daily basis. They’d grown to be the family she’d never belonged to and had always longed for. Having spent the better part of her childhood at Mountain Light herself, she knew good and well the importance of even the smallest gestures of kindness. Now, she refused to let the kids down when it came to hosting the Christmas party they eagerly looked forward to all year…even if it killed her.

And it might…heatstroke was an option, or she simply might just melt to death. The tune “Frosty the Snowman” suddenly danced through Faith’s head and a stab of sadness pierced her heart as she imagined Frosty slowly dissolving into a shadowy puddle.

Faith forced the image from her mind and pushed through to the happy ending when Frosty returned with hearty singing, gleeful dancing and hopes for what might come the following year. 

Yes, that’s what she needed to make it through to the other side of the Christmas party—a strong dose of hope.

Faith brushed a wavy wisp of long, cinnamon hair that had escaped its ponytail from her eyes. She wished for the umpteenth time that her hair was more controllable—a wave that fanned sleek and stylish much like the manes that models in the latest fashion magazines possessed instead of the mass of unruly curls that refused to cooperate whenever the humidity rose above forty percent. 

Faith gave up the fight. She tugged the elastic band from the tail, releasing her hair to spring free over her shoulders and tumble down to the middle of her back. She raked her fingers through the curls as she drew another deep breath, inhaling the scent of lilacs that bloomed outside the office window. The sweet and slightly musky scent wasn’t exactly the key to nudging her into the Christmas spirit either. 

OK…enough.

She spun in the rolling chair and grabbed a small box filled with trinkets that sat atop the file cabinet. A quick turn back toward the desk, and she dumped the contents onto the blotter. Out spilled a half-burned jar candle she’d found at the bottom of her junk drawer at home. Next, a Bing Crosby CD, and a vintage ceramic light-up snowman with a snowflake belly that had once belonged to her great-grandmother followed suit.

Faith removed the CD from its case and inserted the disc into the player atop the file cabinet. Soon, the soft strains of Bing Crosby’s rich and throaty caramel voice filled the office with dreams of a white Christmas. The candle, once lit, sent aromatic whispers of pine drifting. Finally, the snowman found his place front and center atop Faith’s desk. The jolly, bright glow from his belly added the final touch of Christmas warmth.

I can do this…

Faith closed her eyes and breathed deeply, sending a quick but heartfelt prayer to the heavens above.

Lord, please help me find the funding to have a Christmas celebration for the kids. It will mean so much to them and they’re counting on me. They need me…and I need them.

The staccato click of heels signaled someone’s approach. A shadow crossed the doorway, momentarily blocking muted rays of sunlight that spilled into the hall from double-paned glass entrance doors across the way. “Faith, get a move on…we’re running late and we have to go—now.”

Faith’s head snapped up to find Avery Daniels, her best friend since the fifth grade, poised with one hip pressed against the door jamb. Avery worked a piece of gum between her jaws, snapping it smartly as was often her habit. “Oh, hi, Ave.” Faith sighed and raked a hand through hair that refused to cooperate. “Is it noon already?”

“Five past—no, ten now.” Avery’s brow furrowed as she tapped the screen of the cellphone clutched in one fist. “And I’m parked in a tow-away zone. I’ve texted you at least half-a-dozen times. Don’t you check your messages?”

“Not when I’m neck-deep into work.” Faith tossed the crumpled sticky note onto the blotter as her belly did a convoluted little dance. She hated to let Avery down, but duty called. She snatched a curl that obscured her vision and twisted it around her index finger as she spoke. “Look, um…I really should stick around here and work through lunch instead of heading to that audition with you. There’s so much on my plate right now.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Avery waggled a finger capped by a scarlet-tipped nail. “We’ve had this gig set for a month now and you promised, Faith. You can’t back out on me this late in the game. I can’t do this alone.” She slipped one hand into the pocket of crisp, white jeans coupled with a V-necked black T-shirt that accentuated every ample curve. “Besides, there’s ten thousand dollars on the line.”

“Ten thousand?” Faith grabbed a pen and tapped it along the desktop. “I thought it was five.”

“I thought the same until I read the small print in the audition instructions.” Avery stepped through the doorway and her perfume did battle with the pine-scented candle and a glimmer of lilac that wisped through the window. “If I’m selected to co-star alongside Ben Ward in today’s first round of auditions—which I thoroughly plan to be—I’ll be awarded a cool ten-grand for my efforts. It’s a win-win situation, since Ben is a hearty slice of heaven in steel-toed boots. It’s no secret that he carries the bulk of the ratings for the Poolside Oasis show virtually singlehandedly. And the thought of filming a show with him—of sharing a romantic date with him—”

“It’s not a date, Avery—and there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this circus he and the producers are bent on staging. What’s being offered is simply the opportunity to sit beside Ben Ward in a trumped-up, made-for-TV episode at the poolside of one of his backyard creations.”

“Is that so?” Avery’s gaze darkened to storm status as she plucked the gum from her mouth and wrapped it in a tissue before tossing it into the trash can. “Well, aren’t you a dark cloud raining on my parade today?”

“I’m simply attempting to keep it real. This audition nonsense that’s stuck in your craw is nothing more than a far-reaching ploy to increase the show’s ratings.”

“Well, I can certainly help with that.” Avery flashed the smile that drew men to her like a magnet draws coins. She knew the power of her self-confidence coupled with a personality more effervescent than soda-pop. “Besides, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

“I suppose so, but this girl”—Faith crooked her index finger and poked herself in the chest, wishing that she might, for once, live as care-free and fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants as Avery managed to do on a daily basis—“plans to keep both her feet planted firmly on the ground.”

“All work and no play can make a girl grumpy.” Avery slipped her cellphone back into the purse slung over one shoulder. “You, my friend, are living proof.”

“I’m sorry.” Faith reached for a list of potential donors for the party. Time was wasting and she had so much to do. Surely, Avery would understand. “But I have this Christmas party to plan. The kids—”

“I know…they’re counting on you.” Avery crossed the room and propped one hip on the corner of the desk. “Everyone is always counting on you, Faith, because you are steady as the thrum of April showers.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not a bad thing, but sometimes you have to let loose…let go. The work will still be here, waiting on you when you return.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

“Stubborn…analytical…” Avery shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sheesh—you’re nearly impossible to bargain with, but I’ll give it one more shot. I’ll tell you what…you come and support me at this audition, and I’ll help you the rest of the afternoon—and tomorrow, too, since it’s my day off from the restaurant—to plan this holiday shindig for the kids. Plus, if I win Ben Ward over to my side, you can pencil me into your donor’s list with a cool thousand dollars—that’s a ten percent tithe by my estimation…the going rate, right?”

“That’s right. But—”

“Nope…” Avery held up a hand traffic cop style as she shook her head. “No but’s to be had here, Faith. Just tell me…how does my compromise sound?”

“It sounds doable.” Faith dropped the pen onto the blotter and smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt as she stood. Her feet wailed in pain as she found her balance, but she ignored the pinched cries of her polished toes. “But I’m not getting within ten feet of Ben Ward—or any of his brothers.”

“You can’t hold a grudge forever, Faith.”

“Watch me.” Faith nodded fiercely. “Ben promised to be the keynote speaker at our Mountain Light Spring Kickoff fundraiser this past March and then backed out just as tickets were going on sale. We—I mean, I—was left holding the bag because I couldn’t find a replacement on such short notice. I’d only been employed here a few months, and I was placed on probation when the dinner tanked and funding took an anemic nosedive. As a matter of fact, I’m still on probation, and it’s a miracle I didn’t lose my job. I’m not fond of sitting in the hot seat because someone else dropped the ball and, let me tell you, this seat is growing hotter by the moment.”

Avery pinched a strand of spiky black hair between two fingers. Her lips, outlined in a shade of red that might be used to perform a transfusion, pursed into a round little oh. On anyone else, the combination of colors might seem gaudy. But somehow, Avery managed to make the look work. She’d always been the bold one of the pair, outgoing and adventurous and oftentimes outspoken to a fault while Faith tended to be more selective with the thoughts she shared…more cautious and reserved. Through the years, their opposite personalities proved to forge a bond that, despite their differences, mirrored the strength of titanium. “I’m sure there was a good reason for the last-minute bailout, Faith. Give the guy a break.”

“Even if there is, by some stretch of the imagination, a valid reason, Ben Ward didn’t bother to share it with me. Obviously, the fame and wealth of his family’s wildly successful business has gone straight to his head—completely bypassing that steel-clad heart of his.” Faith leaned in to blow out the flickering candle. Even the cheerful scent of pine failed to chase away the chill that had suddenly swept into her heart. “I’ll attend today’s audition with you as I promised, Ave, and I truly hope you earn the chance to share an episode in his family’s crazy quest to find a readymade companion”—Faith emphasized with air quotes—“for Ben Ward. But allow me to make one thing perfectly clear—I will never, ever forgive that heartless, uncompassionate, excuse for a man for letting me—as well as the kids who live here at Mountain Light Children’s Home—down.”

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