Christmas Comes to Main Street (27 page)

Nate hesitated. “This may not be my place, but when I see an opportunity, I like to bring it to attention. This inn, it's your family home, you've said so yourself. And my parents… Well, what would you think about them helping out, taking over, eventually? They're quite a bit younger and—”

“And I can see now why you're the successful business genius you are!” she whooped, clapping her hands. Sobering, she looked up at him worriedly. “But do you think they'd go for it?”

“My mother would be in her glory,” Nate said truthfully. He could see her now, living in this beautiful house, doting on guests, baking her gingerbread every Christmas. “And my dad, well, he wouldn't want to admit it, but he'd love it. And… I'd love it. And if I knew that they were going to be okay, that they had something… Well, you'd be doing me the favor, Aunt Maggie. Is it too much to ask?”

“More like it's the perfect solution,” she replied. “And don't you worry about your father. I know how to get what I want when it comes to men,” she said, winking.

Nate blushed. He realized she was right. She'd gotten him right where she wanted him, hadn't she? And she'd probably been planning it all along.

He looked at the clock, then skirted his gaze around the empty lobby. It was quiet and still and he hated to ask his aunt for any more favors, but this was one time he had to be selfish.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” he hedged. “The tea. I know it's finished for the season, but do you think you might be willing to set up a table in the dining room, the one near the window?”

“Christmas high tea. My pleasure. One serving?” she asked knowingly.

“Two,” Nate replied. “With any luck.”

K
ara was still pinching herself as she followed Molly down the stairs of her building to Main Street. Her step was quick, her heart a little lighter than it was before, and the smile hadn't left her face until—

“Oh no,” she all but screeched as she ground to a halt on the snowy curb. She grabbed Molly's arm in horror and stared into her sister's deep blue eyes. “Mom's present! I completely forgot!”

She put a hand to her head, trying not to panic, but a cold sweat was sending chills down her body as she chastised herself for overlooking something so important. She looked frantically down the street, but she knew it was no use. The shops were closed. The only place open was the diner, and even that would be closing soon.

She thought of anything she might have, what she could give. She'd gotten Molly a bracelet. But her mother hated bracelets.

“Relax,” Molly said calmly. “I bought her a necklace. It can be from both of us. I even kept the receipt, too.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kara gushed, and waited for her pulse to resume a normal speed.

“But between you and me, I think that gingerbread house was the real gift. Even if you hadn't won the contest, you still created something precious for our family. Thank you for that.” Molly's eyes glistened for a moment, but she sniffed and gave a knowing grin. “Besides, you know what Mom really wants for Christmas.”

Kara rolled her eyes. They all knew.

“I know that Luke has put her off, but did you see Grace at that cookie exchange?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “The girl must have eaten half the buffet. She made me look like I was on a diet.”

Kara blinked. “You don't mean…”

Molly shrugged. “I can't be sure, but I have a feeling that by this evening, everyone will have gotten what they want for Christmas.”

“I hope so,” Kara said, but she wasn't so sure she had. Yes, she'd won the contest, but Nate was still gone, still convinced they were a mismatch, that she could never understand him. Maybe she couldn't. But she'd have liked to have tried.

Kara's car was parked around the back of the bakery in its usual spot, and Rosemary was at the diner, fetching Sharon, who insisted on serving Christmas breakfast each year to all the old widowers in town, who counted on her for it. Kara tried not to look across the town square at the inn as they cut around to the back of the building. Soon they'd all be piled in the car, on the way to her childhood home at the edge of town, and the celebration would begin. And she had a lot to celebrate this year.

And it was all thanks to Nate.

It saddened her, and she wondered again what he might be doing today, how he'd be spending his Christmas, if he was back to living in the past.

Guess she'd never know.

Her phone rang. “That's probably Mom saying Sharon needs a few minutes,” Kara said, reaching into her bag. Only it wasn't her mother's number. Or her aunt Sharon's. It was Mrs. Griffin's.

“Hello?” she answered warily. No doubt the woman was calling to congratulate her, and Kara felt a little awkward, knowing the effort the innkeeper had put into winning the contest. But as she listened to Mrs. Griffin's request, she stopped walking.

“A cookie delivery?” she repeated. Beside her, Molly's expression was incredulous. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Griffin, but I'm closed for Christmas Day. I'd gladly make you some for tomorrow.”

“But my guests!” the woman cried. “They need a dessert, and oh, my oven has gone out, today of all days. They'll have nothing to go with their afternoon cocoa after they come back from skating!”

Kara closed her eyes. There weren't many guests at the inn for the holiday, and a dozen cookies wouldn't take very long. She could probably have them baked, decorated, and delivered in about an hour, especially without any other pressing orders demanding her attention. And the poor woman had lost the contest. It seemed like the least she could do for her.

Still, the thought of seeing Nate made her tense. But then, Nate didn't seem to want to see her. He'd probably steer clear.

“All right,” she sighed, swatting away Molly's indignant cry. “I'll be there in an hour or so.”

She disconnected the call and dropped her phone into her bag. “It's Christmas,” she told Molly.

But a slow smile had appeared on her sister's face. “So I've noticed.”

An hour later, Kara was trudging across the town square, a box of snowflake cookies in her hands. She hadn't minded making them—if anything, she'd felt a bit nostalgic. Christmas would be over as of midnight tonight, and with it, her holiday offerings. She'd done it. Made it through the season and the rush of those first few months with a new business. She'd survived with little sleep but next to no major setbacks, at least not professionally speaking.

She stopped walking and eyed the inn. The entire town seemed to have fallen hush, and despite the lack of activity outside, she could only imagine what was going on behind the set of double doors, beyond the windows where lights shone brightly and almost, she dare say, invitingly.

For all she knew, Nate had already left town. He'd seemed eager enough to be on his way. He hadn't even bothered to congratulate her on winning. Much less stopped by for any other reason.

Kara squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she crossed the street and approached the inn. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She'd opened her heart—for the first time ever, really—and it hadn't been accepted. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe they did come from two different worlds. In her world, you didn't judge someone for where they came from or what they'd been through. You saw them for what they were now. And Nate had made it clear that money, and the bottom line, trumped everything.

The door was unlocked, of course, and Kara hesitantly pushed it open, her eyes darting this way and that until she blew out a breath, happy to see no sign of Nate or that handsome grin that made her a little weak in the knees and, now, a little heavy in the heart. It was Christmas, and she wanted to focus on the good news the morning had brought, the hope she had for the future, not the disappointment of the past.

“Mrs. Griffin?” she called out in a stage whisper, lest she attract the attention of the man she was hoping to avoid.

She waited, listening for a sound of life, but the inn was quiet, so quiet she could make out the crackling of the embers falling off the logs burning in the fireplace. She waited a little longer, then checked her watch. Still nothing. She hated to just leave the cookies on the dining room buffet and leave—it was Christmas and that felt a bit rude. But she'd already delayed getting to her mother's house by an hour to make the cookies, and she didn't want to keep them waiting much longer.

Sighing, she finally gave up and decided to leave them on the buffet stand, where they wouldn't go unnoticed. She walked into the dining room, still hoping to catch the innkeeper herself, when she felt her breath catch.

There, standing at the dining room window, was Nate.

“Oh.” She skirted her eyes to the door and then back to him. “Hello.”

“Hi.” His smile was hesitant and almost warm. Damn him. She didn't have time for his soft side. Didn't want to see it either. Tomorrow he'd be gone. Back to work. Back to his fancy job, his fancy apartment, and all the fancy things that all his money could buy him.

While she… She supposed she'd be doing what she loved, surrounded by those that mattered.

She wondered for the first time if Nate felt proud of himself. He should, she thought. But only partly.

Kara crossed the room and set the box of cookies on the buffet table. “Your aunt asked me to bring these over,” she said as she turned to leave. “I'm sorry I can't stay and wish her a merry Christmas, but I'm afraid I'm already late as it is.”

“Can it wait? Just a little while longer?” Nate added quickly.

Kara stopped walking toward the doorway and looked up at him. His eyes were clear and hopeful, but his jaw was tight. Tense. “I'm sorry, but I really should be going,” she said, willing herself to be strong.

No good would come from lingering. There was nothing between them. Maybe there never had been.

“You won the contest,” Nate said abruptly. “I saw it in the paper this morning. I'm really happy for you,” he said, his voice a little scratchy.

Kara softened. But only a bit. “Thanks,” she said.

“Your father is smiling down on you,” Nate said, locking her eyes as he gave her a smile.

Kara swallowed the emotion that was building in her chest. Right. Time to leave.

“Don't think I've forgotten our bet,” Nate said as Kara turned to go once more. “You won, fair and square.” He held up a hand, motioning to the table near the window, where Kara noticed the flickering votive candles, the tea tray, the two wingback chairs cozily pulled together for a view of the snow-covered town square, glowing with fairy lights.

“What is this?” she asked warily.

“You won the contest,” Nate said. “If memory serves me correctly, I owe you dinner. But seeing as it's Christmas, I thought this might be a little more festive.”

Suddenly everything became clear. “Your aunt set this up, didn't she? That's why she called about the cookies.” She tsked under her breath. She should have known.

“Actually, I asked my aunt to call you.” His jaw tensed as his eyes bored steadily through hers, and Kara felt herself waver. But only for a second.

“This was all your idea? So, the cookies…?”

“I'm sorry to make you do the extra work,” he said. “It was that or knock on your door. I wasn't so sure you would answer. And at the very least, I owe you a meal. I'm a man of my word.”

“Are you?” She wasn't so sure anymore, but seeing the table, the candles, the effort he'd put into it, she dared to believe he was.

Except he'd had several other choice words the other day, too. Did he still mean everything he'd said?

“Nate.” She shook her head. “It's too late. The things you said. I think you were right. We really are from two different worlds. And besides, you're leaving tomorrow anyway.”

“And what if I said I wasn't?” he asked.

Kara felt her jaw slip. When her mind had stopped spinning, she leveled him with a long look and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if I stayed?”

“After everything you said the other day?” She shook her head. “Why are you changing your mind now? Nothing has happened.”

He took a step toward her. “But something has happened, Kara. I've felt differently since coming here. I started to feel like my life could be so much more than it is. More than it was,” he added softly. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I was upset. Seeing those kids… It got under my skin. But you did, too.”

He was telling her everything she wanted to hear, but she wasn't so sure it was enough. “You meant what you said. I know you did. About our differences and about your priorities. You belong in Boston.”

“I belong here,” he said so firmly that her breath caught. His stare was deep and long, and even though she wanted to look away, she couldn't. “You opened my eyes, made me see that it doesn't matter where I came from. Until you, I never thought a girl like you would really do anything other than misjudge me.”

“A girl like me.” She snorted. “Seems to me that you're the one judging people.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe so. And for that I'm sorry. You're… special, Kara. For a lot of reasons. And I couldn't let you go without a fight. Without you, I don't see much reason to stay.”

Kara eyed him, trying to keep her eyes from shifting to the beautiful table set up behind him. “Oh, I'm sure your aunt would be happy to keep you here.”

“She has what she needs now,” he said quietly.

“And you? Do you have what you need?”

He jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I have my answer, I suppose. But not the one I had hoped for.” His eyes had gone flat, and Kara's pulse flickered for a moment. He was giving up, taking her word for what it was, but she wasn't so sure if she wanted to stop fighting, either. If she was ready to end it here and now, in this room, next to the table he'd set up just for her. On Christmas.

She sighed, feeling her shoulders relax a bit. “You broke my trust, Nate,” Kara said.
And my heart
, she said to herself. “I wasn't trying to upset you the other day—”

He held up a hand, cutting her off. “I know. It's my problem, my issue to resolve, and I've been going about it all the wrong way. But seeing you, how you were with those kids, how you gave not just money, but time and, well, love. I haven't forgotten it, Kara.”

Kara swallowed the lump that had wedged in her throat, willing the tears that were prickling the backs of her eyes not to spill. He was a good man. She knew it before, and she knew it still. But was it enough?

“I just did what I could. As you said, it wouldn't change their circumstances.”

“No, but it changed their day. And a few magical days like that can mean an awful lot to a kid.” He took a step forward, and her breath stilled. A part of her wanted to move back, to run from the room, and the other part of her wanted to run right into his arms.

She didn't move. She needed to think.

Or maybe she just needed to follow her heart and, for the first time in her life, let herself fall. And believe.

“I want to give those kids another magical day,” Nate said. “I want to give those kids the hope to see that their life can be so much more than it is right now. And I want those kids to know that it doesn't matter where they live or what they wear. It matters who they are.”

“What are you saying?” Kara asked, searching his face.

“I'm leaving my job,” Nate replied. “I have more than enough socked away, and who knows, maybe I'll still do a little consulting on the side. I like helping struggling companies succeed.” He grinned, and despite herself, she did, too. “But for now, I want to do something else. I was thinking of starting a new youth program at the center.”