Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

I vy looked at her watch. No call yet, which meant her status update may not be all that true. Yet. She had faith.

“I shouldn’t keep you two any longer. Lots of work to be done.”

“Sorry, Ms. Lucille. I wish I had longer to stay.”

“Nonsense. There’s too much to enjoy this time of year for two young lovebirds to be hanging around with an old lady.”

She didn’t know what to do with that one. Arguing the point of her not being interested in any more love connections seemed pointless. She would pick her battles and something told her this one wasn’t one of them.

“I have a phone call I can’t miss, no romance involved. Plus Gran is probably trying to lay down the plastic and get things ready for painting.”

“My dear, there’s romance and reason to everything. You’d do good to remember that. You just have to look hard enough to find it. Or don’t. Sometimes it finds you. Funny thing that, fate.” A suspicious smile played on her lips and the fact she wouldn’t make eye contact with her. Or what Ivy read as suspicious.

“Funny indeed,” she concurred. But she knew for a fact, fate was getting a helping hand whether it wanted it or not.

One corner of Ivy’s mouth turned up. “Thank you for sharing your lovely home with me, Ms. Lucille. Before I leave Dixen I’d love to come back and visit with you. Maybe take some pictures. If you agree I would love to feature you and Aspen on my website.”

Ms. Lucille gathered her hands in hers and patted them much like she did when Ivy was worried over an exam or feeling frustrated over schoolwork. Just like it had then, the gesture worked to ease her. “Of course! And we’ll see each other again, dear.”

Why did she feel that one sentence held some level of power?

Flurries of snow chased Aspen inside as he joined them. “Ms. Lucille, you did a good job with that fire. I’ll send out one of the guys a little later to check on you.”

A blur of movement caught Ivy’s eye and she ducked down a little to peer out the bus’s windshield for a better look.

“Was that—” she squatted lower, “a reindeer?”

“Yep. Who did you think the fire was for?”

Honestly, until that second she thought it was to get Aspen out here for some company. “You have a pet reindeer?”

“Technically the whole town does, but not by choice.” Aspen held out a hand to Ms. Lucille as they exited the bus.

Aspen approached the reindeer, who didn’t appear worried at all by the burly man nearing him.

Everything about this scene was bizarre down to the multiple strands of lights hanging from the reindeer’s antlers. Behind him trailed what had to be enough lights to decorate half the town.

Aspen shook his head as he reached out and petted the animal’s snout with a couple of pats. “I see you’ve been in town, boy. Can’t leave the decoration alone.”

“I take it he has a thing for Christmas lights?”

He held his hand out to her and she quickly shook her head. “Animals usually don’t like me. I think they can smell the city on me or something. They always try to bite.”

“Don’t be silly. They smell the vanilla-scented lotion you use and want a taste of your sweetness.” Aspen didn’t bother to turn around as he teased her, but she could hear the mirth in his tone. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think animals discriminated against city slickers,” he continued and pulled her closer when she placed her palm in his outstretched one.

“Here.” Aspen cupped her bare hand between his, rubbed them together and blew across her fingers. She turned her gaze up to his. “Trust me,” he whispered and pulled her to stand in front of him.

Had he meant that as a question? The thing was, she wasn’t supposed to trust even old friends, but she found herself easily stepping into his open arms. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t deny standing next to Aspen felt completely right.

He slowly placed her ungloved hand on the reindeer’s snout, replacing his, which earned her a soft bellow. “Pet her like this,” he murmured in her ear.

Her hand threatened to shake but the weight of Aspen’s against hers calmed her nerves.

Aspen guided her hand down the length of the reindeer’s snout. The warmth of his hand a comfort against the cold. Yes. The cold and not that his hand felt good holding hers or that his heat felt like a favored blanket wrapped around her.

Heat flushed her cheeks as Aspen shifted closer, his pine and snow scent a tease to her senses. Her heart quivered but no way she would listen to its lies. It let her down once and it took a fool to fall for the same lie a second time.

“It’s a she?”

“Yep. Surprises a lot of people that the girls have the horns. See, she likes you.” His low-timbred voice tightened like a warm blanket around her and dared her to move from its protective cocoon.

“She is soft and warm.” Ivy shuffled her feet closer, careful to angle herself away from the sharp ends of the reindeer’s antlers.

She dragged her attention away from Aspen and focused on the animal.

“If you had a cookie or a piece of celery, she’d be your friend for life. Ms. Lucille has spoiled her rotten from day one.”

Aspen moved away to unwind several strands of lights from one side before setting to work on the other.

“She has a thing for sweets? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”

“You’d think she grew up at the knee of Santa with how many cookies she can down in a single sitting. It’s probably why he walks down Main Street. Someone is always feeding her something.” Aspen finished the second strand of lights and started untangling yet another. “Late last winter the big lug of a doofus stepped out onto the ice behind your house. Your gran and Ms. Lucille thought it was a great idea to go out there themselves in a rowboat—how I still haven’t figured out.”

Speaking of Ms. Lucille, she had quietly walked off. She looked around and spotted her by the fire pit adding several thick logs back onto the fire Aspen just calmed.

“It worked out,” Ivy said, changing her tactics to scratch the scruff under Rocco’s chin.

“You rescued the young calf barely the size of Charlie. Her little antlers hadn’t come in yet,” added Ms. Lucille from her place by the fire. “She was going to die. Such a little thing. And I got to ride in your firetruck to the hospital between five hot dudes—your gran, too. Win-win if you ask me.” The subject of their conversation threw her head back and nodded, moving her rump a little closer to the fire.

She’d never seen such a thing.

For a third time in fifteen minutes Ms. Lucille’s phone chimed. “You’re popular today.” The cell reception might be poor, but the wi-fi worked just fine.

“Yeah, it’s the old farts down at the YMCA. I teach a free yoga class there three times a week and you know how men are about yoga pants. They can’t get enough of your gran and me in our holiday stretchies.”

Ivy’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. A full three seconds passed as she considered Lucille’s words before she laughed so hard her sides grew numb. “You can’t keep your friends waiting.”

“You’re right!” Ms. Lucille tucked her arm into the crook of Aspen’s after he balled up the massive tangle of lights.

“I’ll return these to the town square. I’m sure there are a few workers there a little more than miffed about some missing Christmas lights this close to Dixcemberfest.”

“Thank you, dear. You kids run along now. Oh, wait a minute. I have something for you.” Lucille walked briskly to the bus and back with a baggie full of cookies and a container of what looked like cupcakes. “I did some baking last night and made extra.”

Ivy took the baggie and slid it in her pocket so she could balance the big tub of treats. “Thank you so much, Ms. Lucille.”

Standing beside the truck, Aspen fished out his keys and planted a soft kiss on the old lady’s cheek.

“Send us smoke signals if you need anything, Ms. Lucille.”

“HA. You always were the smartass of the class,” she teased. “Don’t be rude and forget to invite your Ivy to the Dixcemberfest.”

Your Ivy? That had her ears glowing red. Ms. Lucille turned to her. “You’ll come, won’t you? It hasn’t been the same without the Winters there.”

Ivy’s gut reaction was to say no. Nothing about this year was worth celebrating, least of all Christmas. Then the time it would take out of her schedule. She didn’t see how it would work and she be able to have the B&B ready in time.

Lucille reached for her hand and squeezed. “Come now, you can’t miss another year.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, Ms. Lucille.” She waited for lightning to lash out and strike her any second for the lie. That gave her a short window to cook up an excuse to miss the town’s annual party.

“You’ll pick her up, Aspen?”

Not that there was room for an option around her tone. Aspen looked at her over the truck. “Yes, ma’am. Like Ivy Sunday said, I wouldn't miss it. Want us to swing by and pick you up?”

“No. You know what they say about a third wheel. Besides, I’ll already be tucked away in the library with the girls where Hardt keeps the good eggnog stored for after the ceremony while you kids freeze your tits off.”

Ms. Lucille waved them away as Aspen turned the truck around.

“You don’t have to take me.” She did her best to look nonchalant by flipping through her planner and acting like she didn’t want to jump out of the moving truck and run all the way back to Seattle.

“As if I would back out of giving my word. Besides, Ms. Lucille knows the fire department has to be there.”

She stopped and sat back. “The senior citizens of this town are con artists and I supplied the communication know-how.” Ivy grinned. She smelled a conspiracy and it started with a five-foot-two-inch little old lady in green curlers.

Aspen backtracked to the inn, passing a cab in the drive as he pulled to a stop in the drive. Ivy slipped from the cab of his truck, wind picking up a few strands of her hair, her boots crunching in the fresh snow.

“Hmm. I wonder who the cab is for?”

“A guest maybe?”

Ivy turned to Aspen, her hand on his arm. “God, I hope not! Please don’t let that be guests! We haven’t even started on the upgrades and the painting. Then there’s the stuff to pick up from town, too. Food. Curtains. Oh, please don’t let that be a guest.”

“If it is, look at it as added help.”

That man. His sunny outlook on everything grated on her nerves. “How do you do that?” Not because she didn’t like the laid-back approach, but because the technique seemed totally lost on her. Her mind just didn’t work that way.

“What?” He shrugged with a rueful grin.

“Find the silver lining and everything. Yeah, It’s annoying,” she huffed, blowing long strands of hair from her forehead.

He laughed. “Just a natural knack, I guess. I could take you to town. You can hide out at the station for a while. Especially with all those cupcakes. I can give you a grand tour and then we can try Kade’s first attempt at kitchen duty.”

She cringed. “Uhhhh…”

“Yeah, I know. He couldn’t cook growing up either, but your dessert will make up for it.”

She wanted to. “He’s a product of a master chef. It doesn’t seem logical that he can't cook.”

“I wish someone would tell him that.”

Painfully aware she’d grown used to spending time with him again so quickly, she went against her feelings and retreated. Nothing sounded better than an afternoon catching up and to see where he worked. “I should check on Gran. Besides I’m sure she has lists of things for us to do. But you take the cupcakes to the guys. I bet they’ll love them.”

“No problem,” he said with an indulgent grin. Reaching over, Aspen slid her hand into his and that same tingling struck a nerve shooting up her arm with a bead on her heart. She watched in awe as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “It’s nice to have you home, Ivy Sunday.”

Home. She hadn’t thought of Dixen as home in a long time. Which made her smile fondly. She spent every summer helping in the B&B as a teenager and every Christmas helping her grandparents prepare for holiday visitors.

This should be in the bag for her, but every time she looked at her planner filled with task after task, a weird tightening crushed her chest. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks for everything today, Aspen.”

She rubbed the place he’d kissed as Aspen pulled away. If Ivy dared to believe…nah. She figured Fate didn’t exist. Then again, maybe it did and it couldn’t get past the Ivy Effect.

Snow started to fall again and the cold ushered her to move inside. Ivy climbed the front stairs to the spacious wraparound porch. White wicker love seats with rich green cushions dotted the entire space with the occasional side table to break up the spaces between.

Gray clouds from the snowstorm dimmed the daylight making it appear mid-afternoon already. Deep shadows played through the front windows as Ivy peered inside. Despite what she told Aspen, if she hurried there was enough time to make a run to town and still get some work in on the place and pick up some clothes until hers arrived. Maybe Gran would want to come with her.

She dragged her feet up the rest of the stairs and fished in her pockets for the key.

Nothing. Darn! In her rush out the door, she’d forgotten to grab a set her Gran kept on hand. She cupped her hands on the sides of her face and peered through the front window before she reached out to press the doorbell.

Nothing. “What the heck? No power? Again?”

She walked around the porch to the side kitchen door and stopped in her tracks as she rounded the corner.

“Gran?”

Suitcases piled around her feet as she reached forward to tape a note to the door.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You startled me. But good, I couldn’t get this note to stay put anyway.” Gran turned toward her, all smiles. “I’m going out of town for a while.”

Just like that? Tiny red lights flashed in her mind like warning bells. Now the cab made sense. “What? How? Why?” Ivy rushed forward and took her by the shoulders. “You can’t leave me here alone, Gran. It’s Christmas and this is your B&B.”

“Sweetheart, this is your home and you’re grown. You could run this place with your eyes closed. Plus, you’re not alone. All the guests will be here soon. And there’s Aspen. All the details are in the note.” Gran slipped the white piece of paper into Ivy’s hand before she bent and retrieved her bags.

Ivy snatched the letter and cruised through the words, only a few standing out.

Boyfriend, Vegas and love.

Love? When did love come into the picture?

“Where are you going?” She knew the answer but she needed something to say rather than stand there with her mouth open catching snowflakes. Ivy tried to grab as many answers as she could, but her gran was already down the porch at a brisk pace and halfway across to the cab before she could catch up.

The cab driver slipped Gran’s luggage into the trunk and cranked the engine.

No. No. No. Everything was moving too fast. If this is what fate had in store for her, she didn’t want any part of it.

“Listen, sweetheart.” Gran threw her arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “I’m going to give lady luck some love in Vegas and hopefully my boyfriend will do the same. Hopefully, I’m his lady luck and it turns into a spectacular trip.” Ivy pulled back.

“But what if I have to leave? No, I do have to leave, you know that right, Gran? The job.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find your footing with your next step and you’ll find the answers you need before you know it. Trust in yourself and you’ll find what you really want. Now go, you have a lot to do and so do I. I don’t want to keep Harry waiting too long.” Gran winked and waved to her as the cab drove away.

What just happened? And what did all that mountaintop prophecy mumbo jumbo mean? Trust herself? Find what she really wanted?

Ivy knew what she wanted. But turning back time just wasn’t an option.

She thought over the events of the entire morning. One big setup. No, this entire trip felt like fate had help to lure her into a trap.

Trust her gut? Her gut never got a thing right, why would it now?

Now alone, she turned her attention to the note again.

Dear Angel, please don’t be mad.

She rolled her eyes. When, in the history of letter writing, did anything good start with that line? Ivy’s eyes crossed and she rubbed at a headache already forming between her eyes before continuing.

You’ll find the money you need in the cookie jar on the counter and a key under the third poinsettia plant from the left.

Back on the porch, Ivy turned in a circle. There had to be a million poinsettias between what lined the railings and every window with a ledge that faced the lake which took up the entire side of the house. “Third poinsettia to the left of WHAT?” There was no beginning nor end to the blanket of red from what she could see.

A sinking feeling weighed in her stomach the farther she read down the letter. Tears of frustration blurred the words into a shimmering sea of black ink.

Mr. Romantic, you remember him from this morning, invited me to Vegas for Christmas and you know how I love the shows and dazzling lights. At my age, you can’t miss such an opportunity. The guest list is in the books and the shopping lists are beside the cookie jar. See you Christmas morning!

Part of her wanted to be mad, but the sensible adult part of her brain felt happy for Gran. That she found someone to be happy with after losing her husband almost five years ago.

She inhaled and let it out slowly. “Okay. So, what about all the paint cans and plastic? The new curtains that need hanging. She would have to do it all herself. But how?” The tight grip around her chest returned. “Fuck me. I hate Christmas! Why can’t it just be over already!” She didn’t expect the closed door or flowers to fess up solutions for her, but it felt good to just let the words out anyway.

Ivy turned over twenty-something flowerpots before finding the key her Gran hid. “I guess she was right. No robber would have the patience to look that long!”

There she went talking to herself again.

She walked back to the front door and slipped the key in, only to be greeted by another wall of frigid air. “No fire either. Great.”

She shut the heavy wood door with a little more effort than she intended, and the thud reverberated throughout the quiet, lonely house.

Each squeaky step across the hardwood floor echoed. Ivy kicked off the noisy rain boots but opted to keep her coat on.

An arched doorway divided the foyer from the rest of the house. Stained glass doors with a domed peak stood wide open, welcoming anyone that entered. When the sunlight followed people through the front door, multicolored light beams would spray the entire house with every cheerful color in the rainbow.

Today, the shroud of clouds that enveloped the town and blocked the sunlight mirrored her mood perfectly.

Walking out of the small foyer, a wall of windows to the left looked out over frozen gardens that waited for the thaw of springtime. Pushed up close to the windows stood a worn yet loved oak table that easily sat twelve to sixteen if they were clever and didn’t mind little elbow room. Two generations of family and friends had bonded over meals and birthday cakes sitting there. The amount of history that table had witnessed astounded her.

A small communal area divided the semi-open space layout before giving way to the gathering area to the right, which invited everyone close with its cozy fireplace and enough seats even the largest of families would fit. Along the back of the sofas were tables that currently held holiday knickknacks, peppermint candy dishes and her gran’s favorite—poinsettias.

She walked past the dining table piled high with the materials she would need for her job and made a beeline for the kitchen, divided by another larger archway and matching stained glass doors that never closed.

She tossed her bag and planner on the counter next to the money and lists Gran had mentioned.

With several flips of her planner, Ivy found the full calendar spread for the month and counted out the days she had to work.

Three days to do a job that normally took seven. Alone. Yeah, sure. She took out her cell and checked for any messages she may have missed but found none. That didn’t mean anything, she reassured herself. They could still be deliberating over her proposed plans. She glanced at the clock. It would soon be noon on the East Coast. Half the workday already went.

“Focus, Ivy. No need to panic. Yet.”

Guests. They were due to arrive in five days. Three days to do the work, a day to clean up and a day to make sure everything was in shipshape.

Many came here year after year and knew her family from before she was even born. That thought helped calm her.

A new idea crept up. They would understand if she called and canceled, right? She eyed the little nook her gran used as the B&B office off to the side of the kitchen.

Ivy crumpled the piece of paper, the little red ribbon at the top smashing into a satisfying colored ball of anger.

“That wouldn’t work.” Everyone already paid and she couldn’t issue refunds this late in the game.

A weird kind of pressure weighed on Ivy’s chest. She rubbed the place over her heart and scratched at the high collar of her sweater. Her chest heaved and she couldn’t say for sure if it was snowing inside or if the little white dots across her vision were the lack of oxygen to her brain. Staring down at the crumpled note her Gran left, she’d go with the latter as a safer bet.

How could she do this to her? Ivy mentally ran through her list of contacts and who to reach out to in an emergency. A missing grandmother was cause for panic. Right? Only she wasn’t missing. She kidnapped herself and went on vacation and left her in charge with a see-you-later and little choice about the matter.

She could run and never look back. That thought came with another. Where would she run? Maybe her brother, Jon, could hook her up in one of his ski resorts in Switzerland. No one would find her until after the holidays. She would make her older sibling promise and by then it would be too late.

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat and pulled out a cookie from the bundle Lucille and sent them off with.

Deep in thought, she nibbled off the antlers first and made her way through the rest of the cookie.

Who was she kidding? As soon as Jon handed over the key to her room, he would be on the phone with Mom and Dad finding a way to fix what appeared to be broken—her. He never could stand to see her sad or upset over something.

Good try, but the idea wouldn’t work. She needed to be ready for the call with her new employers not halfway around the world. If they hired her, she corrected herself. Heck, if they called. They seemed pleased. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but she thought it had gone pretty well with their meeting the previous morning. She’d walked out with a promise of a call within the next twenty-four hours if they would be hiring her. She looked at the clock again, when a ping came from her phone.

HA. Gran gave a smiley face emoji to Ivy’s status update. What was she supposed to read into that?

She dusted off the cookie crumbs and tapped in Gran’s digits. Maybe if she pleaded and begged a little more, she would return.

She pressed the cell between her shoulder and ear. As it rang, she snatched the wadded paper off the counter and spread the crinkled mess out when her eye caught something at the bottom.

What? She’d missed something on the note. She tapped the end button and held the note up.

P.s. “Don’t worry about the Christmas lights. I’ve already strung them around outside. But be sure to keep the back gate closed. Oh, don’t forget to put up the Christmas trees . They’ll be delivered at noon,” she read aloud. “As in more than one? How many Christmas trees does a house need? Christmas trees, baubles and lights. Who had time for that stuff? There are walls to paint, light fixtures to replace, Gran’s yearly gift baskets for the guests to assemble and and…”

She couldn’t breathe.

She bent at the waist and placed her hands on her knees.

Her chest wanted to implode and shrivel at the same time, causing dots to cloud her vision again. She immediately regretted eating that cookie as her stomach rolled and heaved.

The tiny pain behind her eyes grew to a throbbing ache. She sank onto a stool and hung her head. She took in her muddy jeans. “Add all the shopping and buying clothes to that list.” Ivy grabbed for her planner again as she snatched the phone back up and hit redial. After several rings, a sweet little unassuming voice sounded in her ear followed by a beep.

“Gran!” Her mouth worked but nothing came out. How did one go about arguing with their grandmother once they’d made up their mind? Not successfully, that was for sure.

A frantic note rang in her words. “He could be a serial killer that likes spunky ladies with fat bank accounts” She had to try something, only not even she believed the gentleman she saw in the pictures was anything less than honorable.

Ivy’s tone died a little as she asked, “Gran, what am I supposed to do? I can’t miss this job, you know that. Why did you leave me?” Her heart sank. The same kind of despair she’d felt when Lewis had ended their relationship dug into her heart like sharp talons.

She disconnected from the call with her gran’s recorded message and let her head fall to the counter with a thunk . To an empty house, she said, “For the record, Christmas hates me.”

When they met up again, Ivy might commit her to the loony bin herself.

Rustling and a low bellow brought her up in a rush and her eyes went wide as she turned and caught a silhouetted shadow dart across the backyard through the kitchen curtains. “The gate.” Ivy rushed to the back door.

“Freaking hell, could this day get any worse!”