'Twas the Week Before Christmas (14 page)

BOOK: 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
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“My parents died in a car accident six years ago,” she said quickly.

“Oh, my God,” Max whispered. His hand moved from her knee to grab her hand.

Even in the heat of her despair, she welcomed the warmth of his touch on her cold fingers. “It was...awful,” she said shakily. “We were driving back to Boston, from Maple Woods, actually, and the car hit a patch of black ice.”

Max leaned forward. “You were in the car?”

A knot had locked in Holly’s throat. She nodded her response, unable to speak. If she permitted herself, she could still hear the squeal of the brakes, her mother’s piercing scream, the devastating crunch of the metal. And then, almost worse, the silence. “I was in the backseat,” she managed. “It was a frontal-impact collision. The car—it crashed into a guardrail. I got out with some bad bruises, but basically walked away without a scratch. Physically, at least.”

Max rubbed his forehead, digesting this information. “And you’ve been on your own since then?”

Holly tipped her head to the side. “Well, I had my grandmother until she passed shortly after and left me this house.”

“That’s a lot of people to lose in such a short period of time.”

Holly’s mouth thinned. It definitely was.

“But you stayed in Boston after...”

“After my parents died?” Holly finished, sensing his unease. “I did. And I wish I hadn’t.”

“Why?”

“My priorities were in the wrong place. I should have moved here to be with my grandmother. I...I didn’t realize she would be gone soon, too. I thought I had time, that life couldn’t be so cruel.... I had this boyfriend, and I thought we had a future together. I thought I was moving on with my life, moving past the hurt, looking toward the next phase instead of holding on to the past. But...it turns out I was spending my time with the wrong person. I should have been here, with my grandmother.” She gritted her teeth, thinking once again about how much she had sacrificed by pinning all her hopes on Brendan. If she had known he didn’t see a future with her, she would have come back to Maple Woods and spent the last months of her grandmother’s life at her side.

“Everyone has regrets, Holly,” Max said.

Oh, she knew all about regrets. And that was why she was so determined not to make the same mistake twice. She had learned the hard way what it meant to give your heart to the wrong person. Life was too precious to waste on people who didn’t truly care about you.

Maybe that was why she was so attached to Maple Woods and The White Barn Inn. Even if these people weren’t her family, they cared about her. She knew they did.

“I know that you think it’s a bit strange of me to get so enthusiastic about Christmas—”

“Oh, now. I wouldn’t say that,” Max objected.

She shot him a good-natured accusatory look and his cheeks colored with guilt. “Well, maybe I
have
hinted at that impression,” he admitted. “But that wasn’t entirely fair. Besides, it’s quirky. And it...it made me want to get to know you.”

Holly’s heart leaped at his confession. Maybe he wasn’t the Scrooge she had come to believe him to be.

“But what does all this have to do with your unbridled passion for Christmas?” he asked, and she appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

Despite herself, Holly grinned. Only Max could succeed in making her smile in times of sadness.

“That Christmas six years ago was the last day I can remember being really truly happy,” she said. “We were here, in this house, and it was just so perfect. My mom and I made cookies, and my dad cut down the tree.” She grew quiet, thinking back on that day, not knowing in that moment that everything was about to change forever. “The car accident happened the day after, on our way back to Boston. I guess that every year since I opened the inn I go a little overboard with the holiday, just to keep the memory of that day alive a little longer. This house is meant to come alive at Christmas.”

Max squeezed her hand tighter and sat in companionable silence with her for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion. “I guess I’m not the only one with a family tragedy,” he said.

He reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his eyes closing softly as he bent toward her. Holly’s pulse quickened as she leaned in to meet his lips with hers. She had longed for this moment since the second his lips had last left hers, and just as her mouth brushed his, a sharp clearing of a throat was heard from the doorway, jarring their lips apart.

Abruptly, Holly turned and with surprise said, “Abby.”

* * *

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Abby whispered urgently, clutching Holly’s upper arm and dragging her through the dining room and into the lobby. “Haven’t you been checking your phone?”

Holly craned her neck back to the dining room, eager to get back to Max who was still sitting in the kitchen eating. She felt trapped with sudden impatience. The heat of the moment they had just started to share was gone; breakfast wasn’t the only thing getting cold since Abby’s arrival.

“I’m sorry,” Holly said, not feeling the least bit guilty. “But I’ve sort of been busy.”

“With
him?
” Abby hissed, referring to Max.

Holly’s eyes flew open at the insinuation. “Yes, with him. Who else?”

Abby tightened her arms across her chest. Her eyes blazed through Holly’s. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into here, Holly?”

Holly faltered. “Abby, where is this coming from? I thought you liked Max. You were practically pushing me onto him yesterday!”

“Well, that was before,” she huffed.

“Before what?”

“Before I started thinking that something doesn’t add up here.”

Holly groaned. “Abby.”

“I’m just saying, what do you even know about this guy?”

A lot
, Holly wanted to say.
Enough
.

“He’s a good guy,” she settled on.

Abby’s face creased with worry. “Are you sure?”

“Abby,” Holly said sharply. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just worried about you.”

Holly sighed. “I appreciate that, I do. But just yesterday you and Lucy were basically telling me I was being ridiculous for being so apprehensive. And now you’re telling me the exact opposite.”

“Okay,” Abby said, taking a deep breath. She held Holly’s gaze with hers and lowered her voice. “After I left the Christmas Market, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. And I ran into Max. He was talking to Mayor Pearson,” she added meaningfully.

Holly searched her friend’s face in confusion. “And?”

“They were in some really heated conversation. Speaking in low voices. It was really suspicious,” Abby finished.

Holly stared deep into her friend’s warm brown eyes. “And...did you hear anything?”

Abby crossed her arms and looked shiftily around the room. “Well, no.”

“Abby!” Holly cried. She knew her friend’s heart was in the right place, but already her resolve to give Max a chance was breaking down, wariness seeping in through the cracks.

“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “Maybe I’m overreacting.”

Holly’s anger wavered. “No, I know you’re just concerned.” She paused. “Are you sure you didn’t overhear anything?”

Abby’s lips twisted. She stared at the ground, pensive. “I guess not. It just...it just seemed odd that they knew each other. I don’t know...”

Holly shrugged dismissively. “It’s a small town. And you know how friendly Mayor Pearson is. I’m sure he was just trying to be friendly.”

But even as Holly spoke the words, she felt her stomach begin to twist.

Abby looked equally unconvinced. “It just seemed like more than that. Like they knew each other.”

“Maybe they do,” Holly said, throwing up her hands. “Max is here on business, after all. I guess it would make sense that he could have met the mayor.” Holly’s mind flitted to the library. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that Max’s involvement here was tied to it.

Abby nodded. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t.” Holly pulled her friend in for a hug.

“So tell me,” Abby whispered, a glint reappearing in her eyes. “Did I just interrupt something?”

“You did,” Holly said ruefully.

“Then I should probably let you get back to it!” Abby gave her a sly smile and said, “I want every detail. Promise?”

Holly nodded and waved her friend away with false cheer. Standing halfway between the dining room and lobby, she had the deflating sensation that she wasn’t going to be able to just get back to it. The moment was lost and Holly’s old fears had returned stronger than ever.

* * *

“Everything okay with Abby?” Max asked in what he hoped was a breezy tone as Holly strolled back into the kitchen. His heart was still pounding, despite the smile in Holly’s eyes. This was all happening faster than he had prepared himself for, even if he had set it into motion.

“Oh, yeah. She just forgot something the other day and I needed to help her find it,” Holly said, refusing to meet his eye. She pulled the sticky French toast pan from the stovetop and placed it in the sink, filling it with water to soak. Max watched her silently, his gaze shifting down her spine, lingering on the curve of her waist before she abruptly turned to face him, her expression unreadable. He eyed her as she smoothed her sweater over her hips. A rush of heat filled him as he imagined his own hands following her slim curves.

Max’s gut clenched as her eyes bored into his from beneath the shadow of her long lashes. He studied her carefully, trying to gauge what she knew. What Abby had told her. This was what he feared the most—that news would spread to Holly before he could come clean himself.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to talk to her. Now.

“I have to ask... Do you really plan to run this inn for the rest of your life?” he asked.

Holly refilled both of their mugs with coffee and turned to face him. “I do,” she said simply. “I don’t think I would ever leave Maple Woods. My life is here now, in this house. It’s where I’m supposed to be.”

Max clenched his teeth. So there it was. So final. So official. He knew it. She wasn’t going to leave on her own. And that meant he’d have to force her out. Out of her business. Out of her home.

And inevitably, out of his life.

“Even with all the sacrifices you mentioned?” he pressed. “Even though you never get time away, and you’re always busy with your guests?”

Holly considered his question. “I like dealing with my guests, meeting new people. I know what I want out of life and I guess I feel like right now, the closest I am to having it is by staying here, in my inn.”

“And what is it you want, Holly?” he asked softly.

She tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, seeming to debate whether she should tell him. Finally she looked him square in the eye and said, “A family. A family of my own.”

Max groaned inwardly. He should have known. A woman like Holly was looking for marriage. Kids. A house. Probably this house. He could never give her any of those things. All he could ever do was break her heart.

“Are those things that
you
want?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

Max looked at her and knew right then and there what he had to say. “No.”

Holly visibly paled. The light disappeared from her eyes. “Because of work?”

Max shook his head. “I love my work. My work has filled my life with purpose. But that’s not the reason.”

“Then what is?”

“I don’t believe in family,” he said, realizing as he spoke the words that he had never articulated his feelings so concisely.
I don’t believe in family
. Was it even true? For years he clung to this belief, but something about being here with Holly these past few days, confiding in her, listening to her, laughing with her, made him start to wonder.

Holly’s jaw set. She folded her hands across her chest. “Well, that’s really sad.”

Max gave a casual shrug, feeling like a callous bastard. He could see the contempt in Holly’s eyes, the hurt and pain he was causing her. It was better this way, he told himself. Better for him to end it like this, to let her go. It would make it easier when the truth came out. She wouldn’t be so blindsided.

He wasn’t the man she thought he was. Maybe he wasn’t the man he’d led her to believe he was.

His chest tightened with realization. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be, either.

“Holly—” His voice was firm, his heart was pounding. He was going to tell her. Now.

“I should probably go tend to some things,” she interrupted coolly. “Let me know if you need anything.” She refused to meet his eye as she pushed through the kitchen door, leaving it swinging in her wake.

For a long time after she left, Max sat stone-faced at the counter, staring out the window onto the serene landscape that, in a few months’ time, would be paved with cement.

There was no alternative other than to give up all his plans and live happily ever after with Holly. And that was never going to happen.

The ringing of his cell phone pulled him from his rambling thoughts. With a skip of his pulse he retrieved it from his pocket. He recognized the number from the call display as George Miller’s. And he knew before he even answered what the verdict would be.

Chapter Ten

H
olly pressed her palms against her eyes as hot tears spilled down her face and soaked the white eyelet shams of her feather pillows.

She knew she had no right to cry. The warning signs were all there. She had seen them all along; it was everyone else who was telling her otherwise. But she wanted to give Max a chance. She wanted to have some hope. She wanted to believe.

What a fool she had been.

Finally dragging herself into a sitting position, Holly glanced at her watch. She had work to do to prepare for the New Year’s guests, and she couldn’t spend half the day crying over this man who she wouldn’t ever see again after Christmas. Oh, if only he would leave sooner, she suddenly wished.

Holly crossed to her bathroom, splashed water on her face and ran a brush through her hair, trying to perk up, even though his words still haunted her. How callous could he be? To just shut down any chance of something they could have had only minutes after she had poured her heart out to him.

She never talked about her parents’ death. To anyone! Sure, Abby knew. And Lucy and George. A handful of others, of course. But other than that, it was something she had locked in a box and tucked away somewhere deep inside her. It was easier that way, somehow. Not thinking about her painful past was her only way of plodding through each day and looking forward, not back. But then Max had gone and spilled his own story to her, and she felt so instantly bonded to him, so close in the trust he had put in her, that she had just reflexively done the same.

And the strange part was that it had felt
good
to talk to him about it. To let him see a side of her she didn’t reveal very often, not merely the woman who smiled and charmed her guests every day as she worked at the inn. The real Holly.

The Holly he clearly had no desire to get to know any better.

She just didn’t understand it. Why had he bothered being so open with her last night if he didn’t feel something for her? She had known all along, of course, that he was only in town for a few days, that he wasn’t here to change his entire life around, but the rest...

I don’t believe in family
. His words echoed again and again. It was worse than she had even thought. It was one thing to be married to your work like Brendan had been. But to keep the world at arm’s reach—to be so cold and alienating—was entirely a different matter.

Holly lifted her chin and studied her reflection. If Max Hamilton thought he could waltz into town, have a little fun with her, and then waltz back out, he was sadly mistaken.

He had picked the wrong woman for that. Holly didn’t do flings.

She
believed in family.

Well, forget him,
she decided.

Holly plucked a tube of lip gloss from a drawer and swiped it over her mouth, but it did little to help. Her eyes were swollen and glistening. Her cheeks blotchy and red. She realized that she hadn’t seen herself like this in longer than she could remember. Not since...

Something in her stomach twisted. Maybe she wasn’t the only one keeping people at arm’s reach. It was the only way to keep from getting hurt. From going through this. She had protected herself for years from moments just like this, steeling herself from the possibility of more pain. In many ways, Max wasn’t much different. Was it worth it?

Holly felt her anger subside. A strange calm came over her, leaving her with nothing but a heavy lump of sadness in her already aching heart.

With everything he had been through, could she really blame him for feeling the way he did?

She shook her head and flicked off the bathroom light. Regardless of his reasons, he was who he was. And Max was not a family man.

And that meant that he was not the man for her.

* * *

Keeping busy, Holly had learned, got her through the tough times, and today was no exception. She spent the morning organizing the activity list for New Year’s Eve, and going over her receipts for the month. Max’s car was gone, and before he had a chance to return, Holly decided to use the opportunity to visit Abby. The roads were manageable and she could use a friendly face right now.

Abby was already waiting on her front porch by the time Holly’s snow tires ground to a halt on the shoveled driveway. She stood hugging her thick wool cardigan against her frame, her expression a mix of surprise, concern, and curiosity.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Abby said.

Holly forced a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first,” she said.

“Oh, please. You know you don’t need to bother with that.” Abby folded an arm around Holly’s shoulders and led her up the stairs to the porch and into the warm comfort of her cottage.

“I was just sitting by the window working on my knitting when I saw your car pull up,” Abby said. She pulled the door closed behind them and guided Holly over to the couch. “Pete’s at work so you don’t need to worry about anyone interrupting. It’s just us girls.”

Holly sighed. “I’m sorry. You must be wondering what’s going on.”

“Let me guess,” Abby said. “Is it Max?”

Holly looked around the room, wondering just why she had allowed herself to get this upset about someone she barely knew. But see, that was the thing. He had let her get close. After last night, she felt like she
did
know him.

Guess I was wrong,
she thought bitterly.

“I was right about him after all,” she said to Abby with a watery smile. “Or, maybe you were.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, I was right?”

“When you came and warned me this morning,” Holly said.

“Did he say something to you about that? About his talk with the mayor, I mean?”

Holly shook her head. “No. I still don’t know what that was all about.”

Abby’s face softened. She picked up a pair of bamboo knitting needles and wrapped a strand of thick, hunter green wool around one tip. “Sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes. “But I planned to make this sweater for Pete before Christmas and time is running out. I can’t exactly work on it when he’s home.”

“Got any spare yarn?” Holly asked.

Abby handed her a ball of pink wool from her basket under the coffee table. She fished around for a spare pair of needles. “This will make you feel better,” she said.

“Thanks,” Holly said, managing a small smile. She randomly casted on a few stitches, the softness of the wool on her fingertips instantly soothing her frayed nerves.

“So what exactly happened?” Abby asked, glancing up from her project.

Holly shrugged. “It’s just what I said. I was right about him all along. He doesn’t want a relationship. He isn’t that kind of guy.”

Abby studied her. “But you only just met him. Maybe in time...”

Holly stopped her. She knew better than to reach for hope that wasn’t there. “He was pretty clear about it. He has no intention of getting married.”

Abby frowned. “He said that?”

Holly paused, recalling the exact hurtful, horrible words. “He didn’t have to. He said he doesn’t believe in family.”

“What?” Abby gasped.

“That’s what he said,” Holly repeated. “I don’t believe in family.”

Abby’s brown eyes widened, her knitting paused. “Wow,” she said, lowering her gaze. She wrapped the yarn over the bamboo stick and pulled it through a few more times, shaking her head. “That’s...”

“Horrible?” Holly finished. She gave a feeble smile when she met Abby’s stare.

“Yes. Horrible.” Abby furrowed her brow as she worked on the sweater. When she finished another row, she quietly set her knitting on her lap and looked at Holly. “But why would he say such a thing? There has to be a reason.”

Holly gave a reluctant sigh. “Well, I suppose there is.”

“Hold that thought,” Abby announced, standing up. “I have a feeling we’re in for a long chat and I don’t know about you, but I need some hot chocolate. With a splash of something to take the edge off.”

Holly managed her first real smile since Max’s announcement and settled back against the chenille throw pillows while Abby disappeared into the kitchen. The couch was positioned against a large picture window looking out over the front stretch of lawn where Abby had stuck a plastic Santa and his reindeer.

“Tacky, aren’t they? But I couldn’t resist,” Abby said as she came back into the room. She smiled out the window before handing Holly a steaming mug of cocoa generously heaped with whipped cream.

“Yum,” Holly said, perking up.

“We were out of marshmallows. Sorry.” Abby blew on her cocoa and then, deciding to let it sit and cool, returned it to the table. She curled her feet under her on the couch and said, “Okay, so tell me everything.”

Holly hesitated. She sensed that Max’s childhood was something he had harbored close and shared with few people. She frowned when she considered that he had felt comfortable opening up to her.

She gave Abby a brief recount of the past few days, leaving out the details of Max’s past that he had trusted her with, and ending with Max’s hardened proclamation.

“I just don’t think he wants the same things that I do,” Holly finished.

Abby pursed her lips. “But you like him, Holly, I know you do. Maybe there’s still a chance.”

Holly thought about this. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. Even that flicker of hope she had just felt was enough to remind her of how much she stood to lose. Max had stood his ground. Now it was time to move on.

Abby reached for her mug and took a slow sip. “Maybe he just needs time.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it, either. He’s been alone for a long time, you figure. I think he prefers it that way.”

Abby shook her head. “What a shame. A man that looks like that...” She blew out a breath. “Seriously, though, all joking aside, I know that I was a little wary of him this morning, but he seems like a really nice guy from everything you’ve told me, Holly.”

“I know!” Holly cried, desperation filling her chest. “That’s what’s so frustrating!”

“I still don’t understand what led to this big statement on his part. What happened after I left? Did he just blurt out that he didn’t want a family?”

Holly chuckled. “No. Of course not.”

“Then what?” Abby asked, getting impatient.

Holly slumped against the pillows and skimmed her eyes over the room. “He was asking me what I wanted out of life, and so I asked him the same.”

Was that how the conversation had begun? Holly chewed the corner of her lip. Somehow this didn’t seem so dire when she said it aloud. “He asked if I intended to run the inn for the rest of my life.”

Abby was looking at her with round eyes and a telling smile. “Let me guess? You said you did.”

“Of course. Maple Woods is my home. You know how much that inn means to me”

“Would you be open to leaving Maple Woods if you could have that family you want so much somewhere else?” Abby asked shrewdly.

Holly already knew the answer and it terrified her more than she wished it did. She loved Maple Woods. But if leaving meant she could have those things... “I want to get married. I want to have children. But I want to live in Maple Woods. In my house. My family’s house. It’s all I have left.”

Abby sighed. “I just don’t want to see you throwing away a good thing because you aren’t ready to give up some of your creature comforts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have been holed up in that inn for so long that you don’t even know how to get out there and live a little. You are far too young to live like that, Holly,” Abby said. “You’ve built this cozy little nest for yourself and filled it with lots of strangers. But you haven’t stopped to open yourself up to something real. And lasting. So how are you ever going to even find the one thing you really want the most?”

The words stung, jolting her to reality. She knew it was true. She knew what she had done. But she liked the safety and comfort of the life she had created for herself. Perhaps too much... “I should talk to him. We have had a few nice days together. ”

Abby nodded. “I think you should.”

But something still remained true. “But he doesn’t want the things I do. He doesn’t want a family, Abby. Not in Maple Woods. Not in New York. Not anywhere.”

“Maybe he felt rejected!” Abby said. She adjusted her expression and muttered, “The male ego is a fragile thing, Holly.”

Holly wasn’t persuaded. “No, it isn’t his ego. I think it has something to do with his own family.” Her heart feeling heavy as realization formed. “His own family hasn’t been around in a long time. Maybe—”

“Maybe he’s afraid of people leaving him? Of getting close?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow. “My, my. Doesn’t that sound familiar.”

Holly gave her a dirty look.

“Where is he now?” Abby inquired.

Holly lifted her hands. “I have no idea. He’s probably still working out his business dealings.”

“He still hasn’t told you any more about that?”

“No. Should he?”

Abby pinched her brows. “Huh.”

“Abby!”

Abby burst out laughing and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in apology. “I’m sorry, Holly. I’m awful. I just can’t help but think it’s strange that he has all this urgent business in town three days before Christmas. In Maple Woods of all places.”

Holly chuckled. “It is bizarre. I know. But it’s harmless, I’m sure. He said he’s in real estate.”

“Real estate?” Abby repeated. “Well, that’s boring.”

“I know,” Holly said wryly.

“And here I was hoping he was a federal agent or a fugitive or something. Well, I’m sure that I was overreacting about his conversation with Mayor Pearson, then.” Abby sighed “Besides, whatever he does for business really doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s two separate matters.”

Holly realized she was right.

“Sit and stay a little longer. Calm down. Think about what you want to say. And then go back to that inn and talk to him before he’s gone and it’s too late.”

Holly considered this tactic, and realized this is exactly what she needed to hear. “I guess it can’t hurt to talk to him once more.”

“If he’s anything like the guy I talked to yesterday, he probably feels terrible. He likes you, Holly. I know he does. And that’s why I’m telling you that this one is worth fighting for. If he still walks away after you talk, then let him go. But not yet.”

BOOK: 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
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