Second Chances (9 page)

“Tristan, come here.”

The young man obeyed, praying she didn’t make him try on the pink scarf, or the yellow one. Isobel took off the dark grey scarf from herself to enfold it around his neck. The wool was already printed with her scent, some light touch of orchids and amaranth wood. The instant desire to discover more surprised him and he accepted it heartily, while she played with the scarf. She had to tiptoe to arrange it and maybe she leaned on him a little more than strictly required. Tristan wondered if she tasted of plums and roses, as sweet as she looked. Maya had been right. Isobel was attractive; very very attractive…

The raven-haired woman grinned behind her bundle of wool: Isobel had Tristan under her charm, and he seemed more than happy to go under…Maya tried to untangle the scarf Isobel had tied around her neck, twisting her arms to reach the knot behind her head. A gloved hand brushed the tap of her neck and she flinched as cold air rushed under the now loose scarf.

“You should buy it; the color suits you.”

Arthur made no move toward her and Maya stayed disconcerted for a second. Suspicion kicked in and warmed her cheeks lightly despite the icy wind. He wanted her to kiss him first, and not the other way around. Surely his attitude was custom-made to enrage Tristan.

Sadist.

She folded the scarf scrupulously, refusing to enter his game, before she challenged him, one brow quirked up.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Arthur?”

He grinned and Maya didn’t know what to make of his smile, a tease or real good humor.

“Of course.”

Ha!

“Where are my manners? Good morning Isobel.”

He brushed the blonde’s cheek swiftly while Tristan glared. Maya fought the urge to stab Arthur with something really sharp, and she mentally kicked herself for it. He was saving her the embarrassment of a meaningless kiss, and so she should be grateful, not…Hell of a man.

Isobel spared her the humiliation of kicking him in the knee, or higher if she could reach…

“Arthur stop looking at her like she’s some forbidden fruit. Are you an item or not? Just kiss her.”

Isobel turned toward the clerk, and her bargain disappeared in the drums of his heart pounding when he obeyed and pressed one light kiss on her lips.

Her skin was cold from the outdoors and warm at the same time. Like their previous kisses, the caress fired more need deep within him and Arthur had to fight to step back. Avoiding her blazing stare, he turned toward Tristan and offered his hand.

“Hey…Sorry to be late.”

Tristan hesitated, looking from the offered hand to the calm face of his nemesis. Isobel was already eyeing the next store, a pottery shop Maya was dying to visit too.

“I sure could use some help...”

“Great.”

A brief nod in addition to the handshake sealed the truce.

***

Maya perused the figurines. She loved the precious carvings from this particular shop, and the previous year she had bought the basics of her crèche: Mary and the infant Jesus, and Joseph. Tristan had offered her the traditional ox and ass to complete the set. This year, she was looking forward to adding the magi and shepherds.

Unfortunately, none were on display. The artisan confirmed he had not brought any for this year’s Market, for the holy scene was becoming less and less popular. He suggested she checked his catalogue, but she refused, disappointed. Isobel cut in with some questions about faience techniques for she was an amateur in pottery herself.

Maya turned her back to the little sculptures of clay to examine painted plates and jars and Tristan slipped one arm around her shoulders.

“He doesn’t have your magi, hum?”

“Nope. Maybe next year…”

“Why don’t you order them?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

He nudged her chin gently with two fingers. Maya rested against her cousin, enjoying the comfort a moment, before she asked.

“So…What do you think of Isobel?”

Tristan wrinkled his nose.

“She’s terrible; I don’t want to see her ever again.”

Maya laughed.

“Liar…”

“Don’t push your luck. Let’s go for lunch, and we’ll find your excuse of a Christmas tree afterward.”

The cousins gestured to their friends, who were still talking to the merchant, and stepped out into the cold again.

***

The Christmas Market was composed of several little barracks shaped like Swiss Chalets, with exposed wooden beams and red sloping gables. The snow gave it a joyful glow, especially with the music pouring from speakers attached to poles in the alleys. Each chalet had a portable heater attached to the roof, so customers could shop comfortably.

The Market, like every year, had been installed in one of the biggest esplanades of the city. For the occasion, the cafés in the arcades surrounding the square had reopened their terraces, with the same heating concept, and they choose one that overlooked the ice-ring created for the holidays.

Isobel clapped her hands cheerfully.

“Oh, I want to skate after lunch…”

Maya nodded more quietly.

“Sure, why not.”

Tristan poked at her.

“Are you sure? Last time you tried you ended up with nasty bruises.”

She frowned.

“It was your fault. You pushed me when I was not ready.”

“You skate like a penguin, Maya. You’re so stiff it’s a wonder you don’t hurt yourself more badly.”

She stuck out her tongue at Tristan who laughed.

“Just admit you can’t skate, just like you can’t ride a horse.”

“I have no problem with horses.”

“What is it about horses?” Arthur asked.

He vaguely recalled she had always skipped the riding lessons as a child. His father was a hard coach; he thought at the time she resented his methods. He was personally a proficient horseman.

Maya answered quickly. “Nothing.”

Tristan contradicted her, to her greatest displeasure. “She’s afraid of falling.”

“Am not.”

“Get over it, Maya. It’s not that dramatic.”

“I can ride a horse.”

Isobel diverted the conversation, sensing the other girl was getting upset with the unrelenting teasing. Maya appreciated her new friend’s tact and they finished their meal happily.

Afternoon was already half gone by the time they left the small café to join the ice ring. Daylight was already fading and the air grew colder. Tristan and Isobel went in scouting; the blonde woman was hanging on his arm and the white little clouds created by their chatting in the icy air entwined with each other.

Arthur stopped Maya when she tried to follow.

“Matthew’s wish is about horses, isn’t it?”

Of course he had made the connection. She gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

Maya hoped he understood and dropped the subject. She started walking but he retained her again. Annoyed, she had no choice but to face him.

“I gave my word I’ll take him for a ride after he is healed from his operation. And I will.”

Her clear eyes shone fiercely before she turned away. Arthur grabbed her arm as if to escort her. “I’ll help.”

“You don’t have to. Your part will be finished by then.”

“I know. I’ll help.”

The spontaneous hug unsettled him, but it ended (too) quickly. Maya smiled at him and took his hand to lead him toward their friends. Isobel’s piercing stare felt even more annoying than the goofy grin he feared he had on his face.

***

Arthur shook his head when the tenant turned to him to have his shoe-size. Maya looked up to him, abandoning temporarily the unlacing of her boots.

“You are not skating?”

“No, not this time; I have a feeling the spectacle is going to be much more enjoyable from the stage.”

Tristan frowned at his teasing tone. Maya pulled a face at Arthur and returned to her preparation.

Isobel was pirouetting on this ice long before Maya had completed fixing her first skate shoe. Her cousin patted her knee before he got up.

“Just take it easy, okay? We are not in a hurry.”

“Yes of course. I won’t be long.”

She smiled beautifully at Tristan and the young man joined Isobel. Arthur had followed the exchange without a word, looking at the blonde evolving gracefully in the center of the ring. He glanced back at Maya. She was done with her second blade, and putting her gloves back on before standing up.

Arthur backed from the rink, looking for a seat. The young woman stood and slowly started toward the border. He plunged his hands deep in his coat’s pockets. The hint of anxiety when she had answered her cousin was now reflecting on her face. She was a little pale, despite the touch of pink the cold had brought to her cheeks. How easily he started to read her emotions was unnerving.

Maya eyed the gleaming surface with a defiant look. Isobel waved at them, “Are you coming? The ice is just perfect!”

She gave a hand back and answered, “Coming!”

Nearby, the cheer did not sound so joyful. Maya took one hesitant step forward. On an impulse, Arthur grabbed her arm as her other hand crisped on the rim.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel like it.”

Her surprised stare left the ice to his gloved hand circling her biceps, then his face. Arthur released his grip immediately, vaguely annoyed with his reaction. She made it too easy to let things be, to forget about everything and just enjoy the moment. He did not like seeing her wary. He felt concerned for her, and the feeling made him ill at ease.

A stubborn pout twisted her lips.

“I want to skate.”

“Yes, that’s crystal clear.”

His sarcasm fired her temper instantly. “At least I make an effort to enjoy myself.”

Arthur took one step forward and she backed, sliding on the ice. Her hands shot to the rim to steady herself.

“You are not enjoying yourself, Maya, you are being stubborn. You are going to hurt yourself.”

“No I will not.”

She moved forward on the ice, testing its surface; her arms stretched behind her, and he noticed their trembling. His stomach clenched uncomfortably. Arthur wondered if he could simply grab her to take her to the safety of the ground. She would probably flog him if he did, if she did not slap him. He barely understood why he wanted to do that. Maya spoke again.

“Tristan likes to skate, and Isobel seems to like it too.”

“Let them enjoy it together, then. Clearly, they are having fun on their own.”

Her cousin and Isobel were sliding side by side on the center of the rink, laughing. Maya grinned, then gasped when suddenly a teen brushed by her on his mad race with his friends. Forgetting their growing argument, she worked her arms like spring to approach the rim again, tightening her grasp on her support. Her obstinacy started to annoy him for good. He moved away to sit on the bench she had used to lace her skates.

“Very well, then. Show me your skills.”

Despite her obvious irritation at the patronizing tone, her hands stayed glued to the rim.

“Why don’t you join us, Arthur?”

In no way he was going to tell her he did not know how to skate. He smirked instead.

“Seeing you stumbling to stay up is much more fun.”

Maya glared. She opened her mouth to answer, when his cell phone rang. Arthur pecked at the number on display, and sighed. On a Saturday afternoon, the office’s call could come only from his father.

“I have to take this; please excuse me.”

When he ended his call, Maya had joined Tristan and Isobel at the center of the rink. Isobel held both her hands and was trying to show her how to relax on her blades. By the stiffness in Maya’s body language, it would take more than one lesson.

Chapter 14

Arthur pressed his fingers to his temples. Maya had apparently very personal ideas about what a Christmas tree should be, and she was determined to find it. The systematic refusal of her friends’ proposals was getting on his nerves. Her stubbornness had a glint that reminded him a little too much of his father. As a matter of fact, each denial was growing into the familiar headache his father’s demeanor frequently caused.

Tristan looked resigned. Apparently, he knew his pigheaded cousin well enough not to interfere. Isobel kept trying, although Arthur wondered why, being that each unsuccessful (and seemingly unwelcome) suggestion was dismissed rather quickly. At least while she helped Maya busying herself with those stupid pines, Isobel was not looking at him with that pensive pout he associated with doubts…

Arthur took a couple of steps back to take in some fresh air and clear his head.

“No, I prefer a small tree.”

“What about this one?”

“Too plump.”

Isobel was about to show her another one but Tristan stopped her.

“Believe me; it’s simpler to let her choose herself.”

“But…”

“Anything you will point out she is going to refuse. Let her. Will you share dinner with us tonight?”

The blonde woman smiled sweetly. Of course, Maya had already invited her, but she kept it to herself.

“I’d like that.”

Tristan brushed imaginary needles off her coat, playing with the golden locks.

“Great...”

She tiptoed to meet him midway for a first kiss when Maya called from afar.

“Found it!”

Tristan straightened up with a sigh. Isobel chuckled and cupped his face, pulling him back to her.

“Not so fast, handsome.”

Arthur detached his attention from his father’s last text-message at the call. Turning to see if Tristan and Isobel could handle it, he spotted them under a bunch of mistletoe. Apparently, their passionate kissing left him with the task of finding Maya and her tree. Trust Isobel to add to his burden every chance she had…

Maya was already bargaining with the gardener to save her treasure.

“I’ll take this one.”

Arthur bent his head to the side. “Are you sure?”

She frowned at the doubtful tone. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s my tree and I want this one.”

Arthur held his hand to stop the coming argument. “Fine. I’ll bring the car.”

Isobel and Tristan saw him walk stiffly out of the garden center and walked towards Maya. Isobel wrapped one arm around her waist.