Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nora thought, not for the first time as she walked into Caroline's house, that it very much suited her sister. It had a cozy, rustic feeling that echoed the inn up the hill, a log cottage with a wraparound porch and three bedrooms, a large living room and a kitchen. It was very domestic, she thought as she slipped her coat off and hung it up on the hook next to the door. She could see toys in the living room by the fireplace, some of Jay's dinos marching across the brick. A scattering of shoes were in the entryway: Caroline's duck boots, a pair of heavier boots that looked like Rhett's, Jay's sneakers, and slippers that could have been either of the adults'.

It smelled like pine from the Christmas tree twinkling in the living room, and Nora walked in to see Margo and Caroline already sitting on the couch looking over a list of details for the fundraiser, a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace just beyond them. There were mugs of hot cocoa sitting on the coffee table, and Margo had her broken leg propped up on an ottoman. It was a warm, cozy scene that gave her hope that maybe things would start to look up, that it wouldn't continue to be so tense among the three of them. That maybe Margo was settling in better, and everything else would be too.

She was actually enjoying being with both of her sisters, at the same time, for the first time in years. And she was beginning to dare to hope that having a project to work on together would make things easier. Something for them to collaborate on, to cut through everything that had piled up over the years. They could keep working on that, she thought as she went to the kitchen to get her own cup of cocoa and then joined them on the sofa, once they'd gotten comfortable with each other again. Just like she had when she'd come back home.

"How is the planning going?" Nora asked as she sank back onto the couch. "Making a list of things we might need?"

Caroline nodded. "And some ancillary ideas for the day of the contest itself. Just brainstorming at this point, still, but I think some of it is beginning to be more concrete." She let out a long breath. "I've been so busy today, between the inn and Jay, that I hadn't really had time to sit down and work on anything for this until right now."

"Where is Jay anyway?" Margo asked, twisting around as if she would see him materialize.

Caroline grimaced. "He's in his room. He didn't do his homework, and Rhett and I have recently set some ground rules about that, so…" She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. "He got his PlayStation temporarily taken away. And he's pretty upset about that, so he went to his room and won't talk to me."

Nora winced, imagining that sort of thing in her own future. "Kids are going to be kids," she said, and Margo laughed at that.

"Remember the time that we swapped out all the Christmas lights for Halloween ones, and Mom got so upset?"

"Oh my goodness," Nora groaned. "I do remember that. There was that time we swapped out the salt for sugar in the dining room before the guests came down for breakfast. We were grounded for a full week after that stunt."

"Caroline never got into trouble though." Margo wrinkled her nose at her older sister. "I think the only time you ever got grounded was that time you forgot to close the gate for the goat pen, and they all got out and Dad had to chase them around in the dark."

"Look, it's not my fault I knew how to follow the rules, and you two were little hellions," Caroline said primly. "And anyway, now I'm getting my comeuppance, right? I have a ten-year-old stepson who is putting new grays in my hair every day." Her face softened as she said it though, and Margo laughed.

"It seems like you love every second," she said, and Caroline shot her a grateful look.

"I'm glad it shows," she said quietly. Then she cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter as she nudged the notepad in Nora's direction. "Not to get off track—we need volunteers. This thing isn't going to be run by the three of us alone, obviously, we'll need some help."

"Spencer offered to help with whatever he could," Margo ventured, and immediately both of her sisters turned sharply to look at her, confusion on both of their faces.

"Spencer?" Nora asked quizzically, and she didn't fail to notice the way Margo's cheeks pinkened at the question.

"Doctor Thorpe," Margo clarified, and Nora's eyebrows rose.

"You're calling him by his first name now?" Caroline asked, and Margo's blush deepened.

"I've just seen him a few times since the accident, and we've talked, so—I don't know, Doctor Thorpe just sounds so unnecessarily formal." She shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"Mm-hm." Nora wasn't about to let it go so easily. "Mom said he brought you coffee the other day, right after your accident. I can't say I recall hearing from anyone else in town that Spencer has been bringing them lattes and making in-house calls," she teased, and Margo narrowed her eyes.

"That's true," Caroline said thoughtfully, an unusual glimmer of mischief in her own eyes. "I do remember Mom telling me about that. And didn't you mention that you saw him at lunch the other day?" A smile lifted the corner of one side of her mouth. "Is that when he volunteered to help?"

"Is it?" Nora's eyes were bright with curiosity. "Come on, Margo," she added when she saw the stubborn look on Margo's face that she knew so well. "I want to know about this new relationship with the handsome town doctor! You're holding out on us."

"I'm not ," Margo insisted. "It's not a relationship . We've talked a little, and yes, I think he's good-looking, but…" She trailed off as Nora and Caroline exchanged a look. "Oh my gosh. There's nothing going on. There's nothing that's going to go on."

"Does he know that?" Nora teased playfully. "Because the personally delivered lattes imply that he's not aware of all of this nothing that's going on."

Margo shot her a deadly glare, but Nora didn't mind a bit. In fact, if anything, the conversation warmed her down to her toes.

It felt like old times, but a little different now, now that they were all grown up. She remembered clearly the three of them crowded on a bed as teenagers, talking about crushes and giggling over boys. The sense of nostalgia tugged at her heart, and looking at her two sisters, she felt a renewed hope that everything was going to be all right.

That this year, the Christmas miracle would be Margo's.