Their Christmas Carol (Big Sky Hathaways Book 2) Page 4

  “Like I said, we’re away half the week between us and the house is so big, you can have your own apartment if that makes you more comfortable. Oh, please do, Nat. I feel like I haven’t seen you properly in years, you can’t be in Marietta and stay anywhere else. Please?”

  How could he say no? “Check with Zac.” Nat warned his pleading sister. “He needs to be absolutely okay with it.”

  “He will, he will. Oh, Nat! This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  Chapter Five

  “Okay, girls, best manners please.” Linnea glanced anxiously at her daughters, both standing behind her on the porch steps. “Miss and Mrs. Hathaway are good friends of your grandparents, so let’s make a good impression, right?

  “Right,” six-year-old Betsy echoed as she smiled up at her mother.

  Elsie, two years Betsy’s senior, just scowled and muttered something Linnea couldn’t catch underneath her breath. Probably “lame” or some variation of the word. According to Elsie everything in Marietta, Montana was lame. Linnea’s chest tightened as she looked at her beautiful, mutinous daughter. She would do anything to make everything better for her, anything. But she was powerless to go back in time and stop her daughter’s world from imploding.

  Betsy had been barely three when her father died, her memories of him uncertain, as formed by stories and photos as they were by events, but Elsie, nearly six back then, had been a real daddy’s girl and had taken his death very hard. She had improved with time, but had never quite recovered her old merry ways, had become more solitary, less carefree. In many ways that had made Linnea’s decision to move back to Marietta easier. She loved Logan’s family, loved her job and her home, and moving away had been a real wrench—but not only did her own parents need her, but she couldn’t help thinking that a change of scenery, a new start might be what Elsie needed. Maybe Linnea had miscalculated. Elsie had been brokenhearted when she learned she was moving away from her home, her friends, and her other grandparents. They had been in Marietta for just two months, and Elsie still yearned for her old life.

  Linnea reached out to caress Elsie’s long dark braid. If Linnea could just make this Christmas perfect, then maybe Elsie would give Marietta a try, learn to smile again.

  The bright red front door opened and a short, older woman greeted them with a beaming smile. “Linnea Olsen, how lovely to see you again after all this time, and these must be your girls? Hello, I’ve known your mommy since she was even smaller than you. Come on in all of you, you’re very welcome.”

  All three paused for a split-second before Linnea gestured for her daughters to precede her into the warm hallway. “Hello, Mrs. Hathaway. This is Elsie and this is Betsy.” She touched her daughters lightly on the head as she introduced them. “Girls, this is Mrs. Hathaway.”

  “Aunt Priscilla, please. I insist.” Priscilla Hathaway smiled down at the girls. “Mrs. Hathaway always makes me feel like I’m being lectured by my accountant.”

  “I like your sweater,” Betsy said, her mouth a perfect circle as she gazed at Mrs. Hathaway in awe.

  Linnea blinked. The sweatshirt was certainly eye-catching, a green affair decorated in giant pumpkins and turkeys made out of gold and orange sequins.

  “Thank you, sweetie, I wear it every Thanksgiving. Now hand me your coats and run along into the kitchen just up there, and grab yourselves a plate. There’s plenty of food on the table, help yourselves and then we’ve turned the dining room into a kids’ zone for the day. Nat, my nephew, has rigged up a TV screen in there and I do believe it’s showing nonstop Hannah Montana. I know it’s old now, but I have it on good authority that it’s an absolute classic.”

  Betsy waited just long enough for Linnea to give her an encouraging smile before turning and heading off down the hallway to the open door Priscilla Hathaway had indicated. Elsie paused a little longer then mooched down the hallway after her sister, her shoulders hunched. Linnea watched her go, her hands tightening on the dish she carried, wanting more than anything to pull her daughter into a long hug, knowing she would be rebuffed if she tried.

  “Can I take that for you so that you can take your coat off? It’s warm in here, you must be sweltering.”

  “Take…” Linnea had forgotten where she was for a moment, her worry over Elsie yet again overshadowing everything else. “Oh, the dish. Thank you. I brought candied yams with marshmallows. I thought you might have enough pie.”

  Aunt Priscilla took the dish off her with an appreciative sniff. Linnea watched her nervously, the Hathaways were renowned cooks, but the dish seemed to pass muster. “Nat would disagree that there is such a thing as too much pie, but this is a very welcome addition, thank you.”

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I hope you don’t mind us dropping by. Lacey said it would be okay.”

  “Of course it is. Crooked Corner is always open, my dear. You never need an invitation, come by whenever you want. How are your parents?”

  “Better, thank you for asking,” Linnea said as she hung up her coat on the antique hatstand.

  She had never been to the old Victorian house before. It had a welcoming air, the white walls hung with a myriad bright paintings, flowers and plants on every surface.

  “My mother sends her apologies, my father is still not up to going out much, but she hopes to see you at the Marietta Stroll.”

  “Of course, I’m looking forward to it. And to the Christmas carol concert you’re organizing. It all sounds very impressive—The Graff is allowing you to hold it in the ballroom I believe?”

  “That’s the plan,” Linnea said as brightly as she could. “I always organized something similar as a school fundraiser back in our town in New York and it felt like a good way to settle back into Marietta and to help the girls feel at home.” She tried to smile, but the thickening in her throat made it hard.

  Everyone said that Linnea thrived on being busy, on multitasking. Hadn’t she managed to get her degree despite getting pregnant in her late teens and having a teething baby during her finals? Hadn’t she held down a job at Logan’s family’s business while raising two children and heading up the school’s parent committee, raising record amounts every year?

  So how was it this time she felt like she’d bitten off far more than she could chew? Her parents’ business needed more than caretaking, it needed rejuvenating, Elsie needed Linnea’s patience and time, and her parents needed her full stop. For the first time ever there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day.

  “We’re all looking forward to it,” Priscilla Hathaway said and Linnea’s panic intensified. “But don’t be too proud to ask for help if you need it. Lacey is a great one for helping out, you know. And, Linnea…” The older woman hesitated. “I just wanted to say, I know that every person experiences grief differently, but I do know what it’s like to lose a husband unexpectedly, before your time. If you ever need to talk…”

  “Thank you.” Linnea swallowed, her throat tight at Priscilla Hathaway’s kind expression, her even kinder words. She was an incongruous figure, small and round, her brightly-dyed hair piled up into a large messy bun, her garish sweatshirt twinkling under the hallway lights, but she radiated warmth and understanding. “I’ll bear that in mind, I really will.”

  “Okay then, follow me into the kitchen and I’ll put this dish down and get you a drink. Oh, and Linnea? Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Linnea echoed, obediently following her hostess along the hall.

  “Here we are.” Aunt Priscilla indicated an open door, through which several dozen enticing smells wafted enticingly. “What can I get you? We have wine and beer, but if it’s too early I have homemade lemonade, your own cider, or a blackberry soda which is very refreshing.”

  “Blackberry please.” Linnea felt oddly at home as soon as she set foot in the Crooked Corner kitchen, a large room, dominated by the huge wooden kitchen table in the center, a table currently groaning under the weight of what seemed like countless ste
aming dishes—turkey, potatoes, pies, creamed greens. Linnea had eaten plenty at her aunt’s just a few hours before, but the mixture of cinnamon, spice, and perfectly-cooked meat was too tempting to pass by.

  Linnea looked around her, at the vases and jugs on every surface all filled with fresh flowers, dried flowers, and arrangements of berries and twigs, at the notice board covered with recipes and magazine articles, at the huge dresser, filled with a colorful, eclectic assortment of crockery. Despite its size, Crooked Corner had a welcoming feel and, for the first time in a long while, Linnea could feel some of the tension slip away.

  Her daughters were still standing by the table, large plates in their hands, serious expressions as they heaped food upon their plates.

  She smiled as she watched them deliberate between dishes of food. “Okay, girls, if you have everything you want go into the dining room, I think Mrs. Hathaway—Aunt Priscilla”—she corrected herself as Priscilla Hathaway mock-glared at her—“said that you’ll know some of the kids in there.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Aunt Priscilla, this looks delicious,” Betsy said, as she negotiated her way out of the kitchen, carrying her loaded plates with great care.

  “Yes, thank you.” Elsie echoed and Linnea was relieved to see a genuine if small smile on her lips.

  “What lovely girls and they both look so like you.” Aunt Priscilla beamed as she watched them walk slowly across the hallway and into the dining room. “Now, dear, do you want some food first or shall I introduce you around?”

  Linnea took a sip of the wonderfully tart blackberry soda. The truth was that she had always hated small talk, that was partly why she had spent her life busying herself with committees and projects, they gave her topics to hide behind, a reason to be. But she had come here to find her place in the community she had grown up in—and to make sure her daughters were embedded there.

  “Introductions please. Although the food looks wonderful.”

  She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. At least this time she was prepared to see Nat. She would be cool and friendly and remind herself that ten years had passed since he had kissed her goodbye in her parents’ orchard and she had watched him walk out of her life without so much as a backward glance. She had no need to feel awkward—and certainly no need to feel anticipatory.

  Only her hands were clammy and her stomach tumbled as she followed Priscilla back down the hallway. It must be being back in Marietta, living back in her parents’ house that made her treacherous heart think she was eighteen and deep in the grip of first love. She was older, she was wiser and she had responsibilities her eighteen-year-old self had never dreamed of.

  Chapter Six

  There was plenty of noise coming from a room on the left side of the hallway, but Priscilla Hathaway shepherded Linnea straight past the open door, back to the wide vestibule by the front door and in through a semi-closed door to the right. Linnea blinked as she took in a cozy room, dominated by filled bookshelves, plump, cushion-covered love seats and a piano. There were only three occupants; Lacey, Nat, and a tall, dark man who, by the way Lacey was looking up at him, Linnea was pretty sure must be her fiancé.

  She came to a stop, self-conscious as the three of them stopped their animated discussion and turned, as one, to stare at her.

  “Just as I thought, my niece and nephew are hiding out in the den rather than making polite conversation with the other guests. Shame on you children.” But Priscilla’s fond smile belied her words. “Nat, Lacey, Zac”—her smile turned up a notch as she beamed at Zac—“Linnea is here.”

  Linnea knew her smile must look fake, too wide and unconvincing. She gave a small wave, fighting the urge to tug at the skirt of her dress, to pull the clinging red wool away from her body. To hide.

  “Hi,” Nat said softly and their eyes locked.

  Linnea’s heart began to thump so loudly it was almost painful. What was she really doing here? Was coming to the party really for the girls or because she wanted to see Nat again? For him to see her in the dress that suddenly felt too tight, with her hair styled and her makeup on?

  “Hello, Nat.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Linnea, I’m so glad you made it. This gorgeous man is my fiancé, Zac. He’s not much of a talker, more the brooding type.” Lacey bounded over to give Linnea a quick hug.

  “I’m sure if you remember Lacey at all then you’ll appreciate that Zac doesn’t get much of an opportunity to talk,” Nat said and their eyes met again.

  Linnea swallowed. There was a world in that look. A feeling of coming home, of familiar worlds yet unexplored.

  She pulled her gaze away and smiled over at Lacey’s fiancé. “Hi, Zac, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Zac pushed himself up off the chair to take Linnea’s out-stretched hand. “Lacey tells me you just moved to everyone’s favorite town.”

  “That’s right, my daughters and I returned to Marietta just under a couple of months ago.” She pulled a mock-frustrated face. “It feels like no time at all. I may have lived here once, but there’s been a lot of change. We’re still finding our feet.”

  “How old are your daughters?” Lacey asked.

  “Elsie just turned eight, Betsy is six.”

  She caught sight of Nat’s face as she said the ages and tried not to wince at the surprise and shock she saw there as he obviously did the math. Linnea knew she would have been last on any potential teen pregnancy list; a scholarship, Ivy League student who barely dated? And Nat knew better than anyone how ambitious she had been, how she had had no intentions of settling down until her thirties, all her focus strictly on her career.

  Instead, here she was, two years shy of thirty, well and truly settled and her own career dreams put aside. There was no use mourning what might have been—the instant Elsie had been laid in Linnea’s arms, she had given up all her regrets without a second’s thought. Her daughter was all that mattered.

  If only Logan had felt the same way. Hadn’t tried to cling onto his old life then maybe she wouldn’t have to raise their daughters alone.

  She tried another smile as she took a seat, gripping her drink tightly, trying not to glance over at Nat again, although every part of her was aware of every part of him.

  A peal of laughter floated into the room from the hallway recalling her to her purpose for attending the party. She was here to socialize and instead she was hiding out in the cozy den, with people she already knew. Shouldn’t she be making more of an effort to start rebuilding her networks?

  Lacey nodded as if reading her mind. “Yes, we should all be sociable and move into the living room and join the rest of the party, but I warn you, it’s safer in here.”

  “Safer?”

  “The aunts’ annual Thanksgiving party is always open season. Within thirty seconds you’ll be button-holed by some well-meaning relative of mine, or a neighbor who has known you since you were in your cradle, or a happily-settled schoolmate who will proceed to interrogate you to within an inch of your life. Have I set a date yet? What about children—I do know I’m not getting any younger, don’t I? How do I manage with Zac in a different state half the week? Am I sure I can trust him?” She shuddered. “Why do you think we escaped to the den? They all mean well, but once all the aunts’ social circle gets into one room it becomes a feeding frenzy.”

  “What did they ask you?” Linnea smiled over at Nat and he winced.

  “Will I ever settle down, I do know these boyish looks don’t last forever, don’t I? How do I feel knowing I’ve probably reached the peak of my career and what will I do next? It was brutal. But you’re tougher than me if you want to risk it.” The blue eyes twinkled a dare. He’d always enjoyed daring her to venture out of her comfort zone—and she’d always jumped at the challenge, glad of the opportunity to be someone other than reliable Linnea Olsen for a few short hours.

  But she wasn’t biting this time. Older? Sure. Wiser? She hoped so. “I think I’d rather stay here with you, if that’s okay.”
Linnea was used to intrusive questions, she’d been peppered with them ever since Logan died, some genuinely concerned, many curiosity masquerading as care, but she didn’t feel up to facing them today. Not after her busy morning and the conflicting feelings stirred up by her reunion with Nat.

  “Of course. In fact…” Lacey turned to her, her blue eyes so disconcertingly like Nat’s, alight with excitement. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m a roving reporter for Meeting Montana, covering community events across the state. From next week onwards it’s Christmas all the way, and I thought I could finish the season with a live report from your concert. Children, Christmas songs—it’s perfect. What do you think?”

  “Concert?” Nat leaned forward, eyes alight with interest and Lacey turned to him eagerly.

  “Yes, Linnea is organizing a Christmas concert for all four schools together, to raise money for musical instruments and equipment. Isn’t that genius? The Graff is letting her have the ballroom to hold it. It’s going to look amazing.”

  “Nothing changes.” Nat grinned at Linnea and she tried to summon a smile back. “Back in Marietta for five minutes and already pulling together fundraisers and events. I’ve lost track of how many times I was ordered to help out at school events and I only spent one year at school with you. How many people have been ordered into line this time? I might get a ticket. It’ll be fun watching them jump to obey!”

  Linnea’s mouth had dried when Lacey first mentioned the concert—and the possibility of filming it. Now Nat’s affectionate teasing robbed her of the power of speech altogether and she shook her head, furiously aware that tears were a very real possibility. “I haven’t got—” She stopped as Nat, Lacey, and Zac gave her concerned looks. “There’s a lot to do still. I don’t know any details yet”