Christmas in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 1) (18 page)

“Beck kissing you under the mistletoe last night is all over town,” Hadley told Ami as they added sprinkles to the dozens of cookies that were headed to a Christmas party at the Good Hope Assisted Living Center. “Katie Ruth mentioned it briefly in this morning’s
Open Door
.”

“Great,” Ami muttered. “Now I just need to wait for my father’s call.”

Hadley lifted her gaze. “Will he be upset?”

“He’s my dad and he’s old-fashioned. He’ll want to know if Beck and I are serious. He’ll probably ask me where I see our ‘relationship’ going. I’m not ready to answer those questions.” Her friend’s lips twitched as she carefully added more sprinkles. “At least he doesn’t know you slept with Beck instead of decorating his tree.”

Ami inhaled sharply. “What makes you think I slept with him?”

“Good old deductive reasoning.” Hadley tapped her temple with an index finger. “I ran into Eliza and Lindsay at the general store the night of the Christmas Stroll. Eliza mentioned you were helping Beck decorate the tree. When I saw that no more lights were being added to the single string of lights visible through the window, I realized something more than trimming the tree was going on.”

“We could have been having tea and talking.”

“Do I really look that gullible?”

Ami rolled her eyes.
Welcome to life in a small town.
“I’m heading over there after we finish here. This time we’ll get the rest of the decorating done.”

“Yeah, right.” Hadley drawled out the words. “The way he looks at you tells me decorating isn’t at the top of his list for his evening activities.”

“It better move to the top. The Victorian home tour is Friday and his house isn’t near ready.”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” Hadley suddenly turned serious. “Between the bakery and the café and the fundraisers for Cory. How did that come out, by the way?”

“Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s amazing. Especially this close to Christmas.”

“It’s easy for people to identify with Cory and Jackie. Hardworking people who’ve tried to live a good life and through no fault of their own have experienced a series of setbacks.”

“I heard about them possibly losing their home.” Hadley met Ami’s gaze. “Isn’t there anything we can do to help? What about the Giving Tree?”

Ami shook her head. “It’s too much money.”

“I’m sorry to hear that . . .” With a sigh, Hadley finished the last tray of cookies and straightened. “Speaking of the Giving Tree, Floyd Lawson stopped by looking for you. He’d tried to reach you on your cell but said it went to voice mail. He left you a note.”

Floyd, the treasurer of the local rotary club, was a burly man with a booming voice who played Santa Claus every year.

Ami slipped the phone from her pocket and realized with more than a little chagrin she’d turned it off at the bar last night and forgotten to switch it back on. Three recent calls and a message, all from Floyd. “I hope nothing is wrong.”

“From the big grin on his face and the way he slapped me on my back and said, ‘Ho-ho-ho, merry Christmas,’ I seriously doubt it.”

Ami snatched the note from the counter and read it quickly. She gasped, read it again to be sure. Sinking onto a nearby chair, she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?” Hadley crossed the kitchen area in several strides and crouched beside her friend. “What is it? Tell me.”

“It’s all good.” Ami lowered the paper to her lap and realized her hands were trembling. “An anonymous donor gave a large sum to the Giving Tree. The donor specifically designated the money go toward paying Cory and Jackie’s mortgage up to date, with whatever is left going into the general fund.”

Hadley looked incredulous. “Are you serious?”

“Read it yourself.” Ami gave Hadley the note.

Hadley’s gaze skimmed the words before she looked up. “Who would do such a wonderful thing?”

“It’s a mystery.” Ami’s gaze dropped to read the wonderful message again. “All I know is the White family will have a very merry Christmas, indeed.”

C
hapter
E
ighteen

Ami floated all the way to Beck’s home to help him with the last of the decorating. The news about Cory and Jackie’s gift from an anonymous benefactor had already made its way around Good Hope by the time she reached her destination.

The
Open Door
even put out a rare afternoon edition with the news, including an interview with the happy couple. The heartwarming feature filled Ami with good cheer and put a bounce in her step.

Once she reached the large home on Market Street, instead of rushing up the steps, Ami stood on the sidewalk and studied the impressive white structure. As a little girl, she’d looked forward to those times when her mother brought her and her sisters along when she visited Katherine Spencer.

Her mom and the older woman would sit in wicker chairs on the porch, sipping lemonade while Ami and her sisters would crowd together on the large swing. Ami had loved that swing. Heck, she loved everything about the nineteenth-century home.

“It’s a beautiful home.”

Ami jumped—just a little—at the sound of Beck’s voice. She turned and smiled. Was there anything sexier than a man holding a sack of groceries?

“I love your house,” she said simply as she started up the short walkway to the porch. “Ever since I was a teenager, I dreamed of buying it and turning it into a B and B.”

Beck climbed the steps, then shifted the groceries in his arms. He unlocked the door and stepped back to let her enter. “I wouldn’t think too many teens dream of opening a bed-and-breakfast.”

Once inside, they shrugged off their coats before continuing on to the kitchen.

“When I was in high school, I cleaned for Katherine. The job gave me money for the extras I wanted that my parents couldn’t afford. It may sound corny, but while I polished the woodwork and made the windows shine, I’d hum and pretend the house was mine.”

But it was only pretend. Even back then she’d known that as a baker—which was her career goal—she’d likely never make enough to afford such a grand home.

“It’s not corny,” Beck said softly. “I can picture this as your home.”

Ami flushed and placed the bottle of milk and carton of eggs he’d taken out of the sack into the refrigerator.

“I was convinced I could never afford it.” That was, until the summer after her sophomore year in high school, when her mother had taken her and Fin on a shopping trip to Milwaukee. “A stay in a Milwaukee bed-and-breakfast opened my eyes and gave me hope.”

There had been several large conventions in Milwaukee that weekend and the hotels were all booked. Instead of staying downtown as they had on previous occasions, her mother had found two rooms in a bed-and-breakfast.

Fin had groused. She liked staying downtown, surrounded by tall buildings, not in a residential area where the homes sat back from the street, surrounded by flowers and trees and large carpets of green. Ami had been instantly charmed by the three-story brick home.

“How did it open your eyes?” Beck ignored the staples he’d just placed on the counter, keeping those intense brown eyes fully fixed on her.

“I talked with the owner. She took me back into her kitchen.” Ami gestured with one hand. “It was like this one, modern but still with that old-time feel. She told me how much she enjoyed meeting new people and welcoming them to her home.”

Like Ami, the portly proprietress loved to cook and bake. According to the woman, having a B and B allowed her to do everything she did best—including making guests feel at home.

Ami had returned to Good Hope with a tiny seed planted in her head. Excited about the possibility, she’d told Fin of her plans. While her sister hadn’t laughed, she’d been clearly puzzled. Why would she want
strangers
in her home? Not only that, strangers she had to cook for and clean up after?

She looked up to find Beck with his back against the counter, gazing at her. He motioned for her to continue.

“I knew turning this home into a B and B was the only way I’d ever be able to afford it. While I can’t explain it, I had this sense that this was where I was meant to live. I told myself there would come a day when Kate would be ready to sell, and I’d be ready.”

“Then I bought it out from under you.”

“No, you didn’t.” She shook her head. “Even if Kate would have given me first option, I couldn’t have bought it. I’m not yet in the financial position to take that step.”

“Seems to me owning and running a B and B would be a lot of work.”

“I guess it’s all in how you think about it. I love to cook and bake, visit with people, and make new friends.”

“What about the bakery?”

Ami blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “It’s doing fine. Why do you ask?”

“You own and run a successful business.” He inclined his head, his gaze assessing. “Let’s say you’d have been able to buy this house. What would you have done with the bakery?”

As he took her arm on their way to the parlor, Ami realized she’d never once considered what she’d do with Blooms Bake Shop. The thought of turning it over to someone else brought a pang to her heart.

“I suppose I’d hire Hadley—or someone else—to run the bakery for me.”

“What about family?” She must have looked blank, because he continued, “Husband? Children? Do they have a place in this dream of yours?”

Ami gazed down the hall, imagining a small, dark-haired girl in footie pajamas running toward her with outstretched arms. Beck stood beside her, a baby in a blue blanket cradled in his arms and a toddler, also in blue, gripping his legs.

Her chest swelled with a longing so intense it stole her breath. When Ami finally found her voice, she had to fight to keep out the tremor. “Yes. In my dream, there’s a husband and a whole passel of children.”

“Passel?”

At Beck’s startled look, Ami laughed. “What can I say? Ask me to dream and I dream big.”

An odd look appeared on his face, and he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.

She laughed and waved a dismissive hand, trying not to be embarrassed by her ramblings. After all, he’d asked. Besides, nothing could dampen her mood.

My cup of good cheer runneth over
.

“I have fabulous news.” She clasped her hands together, and her voice quivered with excitement as he led her into the parlor, where most of the decorating still needed to be done.

He grinned as if finding her excitement contagious. “What is it?”

“The rotary received an anonymous donation to the Giving Tree.” Ami still had difficulty believing it was real. “It was a targeted donation.”

“Which means?”

“Oh, of course you wouldn’t know that.” She gave a happy little laugh. “It means the benefactor specified where the money would go.”

“They can do that?” Beck picked up a box of carefully packaged ornaments and placed it on the table.

“Yes, absolutely.” Ami’s hand fluttered. “It doesn’t happen often, but we’ve seen it before.”

“Where did they want the money to go?”

“I guess I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s just that this is so wonderful.” She took a step closer to Beck. “The person gave us enough to pay Cory and Jackie’s back payments on their mortgage. They’re now current and the bank has halted the foreclosure proceedings.”

“That is good news. Any idea who gave the donation?”

Ami shook her head. “I wish I knew so I could thank him or her. It’s such a wonderful gift. Cory and Jackie cried when they got the news.”

Beck’s lips curved. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too.”

The news buoyed both their spirits, and they laughed often during the next hour as they added ornaments to the Christmas tree. Not wanting to duplicate the color scheme in the historic Hill House, they agreed to stick with colors that would enhance the furniture’s scarlet-and-gold color scheme.

Surreptitiously, Beck watched Ami wind garland around the banister with a concentration worthy of a chess master. The emotion that engulfed him could no longer be brushed aside. In her quiet, gentle way, Ami was slowly filling the hole that Lisette’s death had left inside him.

Beck shifted his gaze before she could catch him staring and filled a basket designed for firewood with an assortment of ornaments Ami had selected. She’d been right. The vibrant reds and golds along with the sparkly branches drew one’s eye.

He’d always assumed he didn’t like decorating and had avoided what he considered to be a chore. But he was enjoying this time with Ami, working side by side, laughing and talking or simply working in companionable silence.

When he’d moved to Good Hope last summer, Beck had been certain if he was ever ready to love again, it would be in the distant future. He hadn’t counted on Ami Bloom.

Beck glanced over and found her studying the banister with her hands fisted on her hips.

He cared about this kind and gentle woman. A lot.

“What?” Ami had turned back and obviously caught him frowning. “Don’t like the garland? Too pedestrian?”

“It isn’t that.” He let his gaze linger for several heartbeats. “You look pretty in green. Your eyes shine like emeralds.”

“Why, Mr. Cross.” She drawled the words in a poor attempt at a southern accent. “I didn’t realize you had a poet’s soul.”

“We all have our secrets.” He winked, then turned back to the firebox he was stuffing with oversize ornaments.

Secrets.
Ami took a deep breath and attempted to steady her nerves. It wasn’t fair to have secrets from the one you loved.

Yet, instead of confessing, Ami turned and surveyed the tree. “It needs a star.”

“Let’s see if they brought us one in the box.”

As he peered inside, Ami leaned over to help him search. The ornaments had been extremely well organized, but the tree toppers had been included in a box with some miscellaneous Christmas items.

Their cheeks were almost touching when Beck turned his head and laid his mouth on hers for a brief kiss.

“What was that for?” Ami asked, pleased by the gesture.

“You make this fun.”

“I’ve enjoyed it, too,” Ami admitted. “When you live in a small apartment, there isn’t much to decorate. Growing up, Christmas decorating was a two-day event.”

“Complete with sugar cookies and hot cocoa?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Sounds like fun.” There was a wistful quality to his voice.

“What was it like for you growing up?”

“In regard to Christmas?” he clarified.

Always the attorney.

“Yes.” Ami kept her smile easy. “Was there a lot of decorating and cookie baking in your household?”

“My parents have an active social life. December is especially busy. It seemed to make good sense to hire a professional to decorate the tree and the house.”

Fin often spoke of people who lived that kind of lifestyle, but Ami couldn’t imagine a non-hands-on Christmas. “I bet the decorators did a nice job.”

“Always looked good.” Beck’s gaze shifted to the tree. “Not as good as ours.”

Ours.

She liked the way that sounded. “Ours is beautiful. But we still need a star.”

“An angel won’t do?” He held up one with a porcelain face and a diaphanous gown.

Ami shook her head. “A star says you’re home.”

She felt the heat of Beck’s gaze and stared into intense brown eyes.

“We’ll find a star,” he said.

They found one in the next box, a burnished gold with a hint of sparkle.

When she climbed the ladder to place it at the top, he remained close, steadying her with his hands. In seconds, the star was in place. She turned back to Beck in triumph.

Her breath caught in her throat at the intense emotion in his eyes. Was it her and their tree he was thinking of, or was he thinking of his wife?

The instant she stepped off the ladder, his hands fell away. Disappointed, Ami forced a smile. “How about I make us some dinner, then we finish up the last of the decorating?”

“She cooks, she decorates, she’s Wonder Woman,” he teased.

Ami simply laughed. “For the record,
we
decorated, and while I may be starting the meal, I expect help.”

Beck followed her into the kitchen. “I’m not sure there’s much in the cupboards. Though I did pick up milk and eggs.”