Snowflake Bay (28 page)

“You told her you were—well, I guess you did since you asked for the—oh my, God, Ben. I—I didn't see this—I mean, I talked about it—”

“You did?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised, and if she wasn't mistaken, more than a little happy about that.

“With Kerry.”

“Kerry?” he repeated, clearly stunned now.

“I know, right? But she pushed me to give it—us—a chance and I didn't see how we were going to, only I couldn't see how I was ever going to stop loving you, and—”

He leaned down and kissed her, deeply. “I don't think I'm going to get tired of hearing you say that anytime soon.”

She beamed then, and her heart felt so full, she was sure it might burst just like the pipes. “Good.” She cupped his face with her palm. “Because Kerry was right and I didn't see it, didn't believe this was enough. But it is. More than. We can figure this out, we'll make it work. Because saying that, hearing that . . . it does make the difference. If it means starting up shop in Portsmouth instead of the Cove, well—”

He kissed her again, until she sighed and leaned into him. “You have the rest of your life to stop doing that,” she told him.

“Good,” he said, echoing her. “I am . . . honored,” he said, “to think you'd change everything you've come home for, to move to Portsmouth for me. With me.”

“It's not what I pictured, but, Ben, I love your people. I really had a great time with them, and Stephanie and I have stayed in contact—I adore her—and what you've built there, it's important. Maybe I can find something more suburban, or find something in the old part of town, something more suitable to my vision, but I know I can—”

“I know you could,” he said, his eyes a little bright now, too, and full of the exact same excitement and emotion she was feeling. “But you won't have to.”

“Well, I do still need and want my own—”

“No, that's not what I mean. Of course you will. But . . . I had to figure out what to do with the farm, too.”

“Oh, that's right. Ben, I—what are you going to do?”

“Being back here, back home, and being with you, has brought things around full circle in my life, too. Only, you're right, what I have in Portsmouth, well, that is my family, too, now. I couldn't see how I could do both, and Paul and I were talking one night, after we got back from the party, and I remembered what you said, that first day, standing in your kitchen at the Point. You asked me if I was going to somehow combine my business and the tree farm and operate it all from one place.”

“Ben,” she said, in a stunned whisper. “That's—amazing. But, what about everyone in Rhode Island? You can get clients anywhere, I'm sure, especially now, but what about—?”

“It started off as a kind of joke, but then we—Paul and I—really started talking it out, and, well . . . I made the decision that I didn't want to give the farm up and—”

“Oh, Ben, you're not going to sell your business to Paul and start completely over here are you? I mean, he's wonderful, but it's your baby, you're the guy folks—”

“I'm not selling it to Paul. I'm not selling it at all.” He looked down into her eyes. “But I am relocating it.”

“But what about Paul, and Stephanie, and—”

He grinned. “I'm relocating them, too.”

Fiona spluttered a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Ben, that's—I don't even have words for that. But, you don't have to—I mean, it would be a lot easier for me to just—”

“It's not just about us. I decided that I was going to do this, even if you turned me down flat. I'm doing this for me. That's how I knew it was the right thing to do.”

“Oh, Ben,” she whispered, awed, “that's . . . wow. I wouldn't have even thought . . . wow.” She dashed at the tears on her cheeks. “But what about your clients?”

“It's not going to happen overnight,” he warned. “In fact, it's going to take about six months or so of a whole lot of juggling, then probably another three or four to get things completely moved over. I have contracts I have to honor, and, well, it's all stuff we can discuss later. But the bottom line is, I can do what I love anywhere and still love it. It was the people I didn't want to leave.”

“It will be a lot different here,” she said. “I mean, you won't have exactly the same client base to pull from.”

“Well, see, that's the thing. That magazine article is turning out to be a whole lot bigger than I'd have ever dreamed. I'm getting calls from all over the place. All over the country, in fact.”

She smiled. “That's fantastic.”

“I was flattered, but was thinking I'd have to turn them down, only now . . . well, Paul and I are thinking maybe we'll have a slightly different focus when we relaunch here, think bigger in terms of how and where we work.” He looked at her. “It means travel on my part, but—”

She tipped up on her toes, grabbed his face, and kissed him. “It means you get to do what you love with the people you love. I'm all for it.”

He wrapped her up against him.

“So, how does this work with the farm?”

“I'm going to set up my business at the farm, co-op a bit of the property and build something similar to my building in Portsmouth. Plenty of room for that and the trees, too. I've already talked to a few of the men who've worked for my dad for years, and having watched them in motion this past month, I know they can handle running the place for the most part. And I'll still be there, on the premises, to oversee things when needed.”

“It all sounds . . . well, like a miracle, really. And you're sure you want to do this?”

“More sure than I've been about anything in my life. Except maybe this.” He lifted the ring box again. “You didn't answer me. Will I have my work and my family farm, and get the girl, too?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I'm afraid you're stuck with all of us.” She kissed him. “And it's probably going to be a life sentence.”

“Lock me up and throw away the key then,” he said, leaning his head down. “So, how about that shower? I love you, but you're starting to smell a little . . . moldy.”

“And that, folks, is what love is all about,” she said with a laugh. She took the ring box from him. “Shower first, then we'll see how this fits.”

“You fit, and that's all that matters.”

She sighed and pressed her sodden, moldy smelling head to his chest. “You say the sweetest things.”

He wrinkled his nose, but smiled. “Well, you know, I owe you.”

“True,” she said. “I wonder how many years of sweet things I can leverage out of that.”

She squealed when he slid his hands down and pinched her backside, then squealed again when he scooped her up in his arms.

“On second thought,” she said, slipping her arms around his neck, “being of fireplug height and proportions does have its advantages.”

He laughed as he carried her up the stairs. “Can I get that in writing?”

It was all pretty disgusting, really. Well, except for the cake. The wedding cake, Kerry decided, was an inspired bit of perfection. As for the rest, well . . . “They can all have each other, Uncle Gus,” she said, leaning her head on his sturdy, good shoulder as she watched Hannah dancing with her new husband, Logan dancing with his wife, and Fiona dancing with her fiancée. “I'm going to marry this cake.” She took another bite of the champagne cake, and some of the cherry filling dribbled to her chin. She might have had just a wee bit too much of the actual champagne, too. But if you couldn't overindulge at your sister's wedding reception, then when could you, she wanted to know?

“It will be your turn soon, sprite,” Fergus told her, kissing the top of her head.

“Maybe I don't want a turn. I mean, sure, they're disgustingly happy. They make it look easy, because they're like that, but it's not. It's messy and it's complicated.” She scooped the cherry filling off her chin and licked it off her finger. “I think I'm just going to give the whole shindig a pass.” She glanced up at Fergus, and blinked when he looked a bit fuzzy to her. Maybe no more champagne. “And eat cake.”

He smiled down at her. “It's an option,” he said. “But if ye get the chance for messy and complicated, well . . .” He turned his attention back to the makeshift dance floor that was otherwise known as the McCrae kitchen. “Don't be so hasty to turn it away.”

Kerry thought something must have gotten in her eye, because what else would explain the sudden sting there. “Maybe,” she said, a bit hoarsely. She sniffled and frowned the tears into submission, then smiled once again. “Maybe it just has to be the right messy and complicated.” She didn't really want to think about that, or about what she personally knew about messy or complicated. She shifted so she could snuggle in a bit closer. “Maybe I'll just eat cake and spend my days taking care of you. You're messy and complicated.”

He hooted a laugh at that. “Oh, there is some truth in that, to be sure.” He put his good arm around her and squeezed. “We'll see how it all plays out, lass.”

She thought maybe she was smarter than all of them, but as she watched her oldest sister twirl ever so elegantly in her husband's capable arms, her middle sister laugh as she got her heel caught on the hem of her dress and had to be saved from an inelegant dance floor face-plant by her always-on-call husband-to-be, and her oldest brother, whom she'd never thought she'd see making googly eyes at anyone, making rather exceptional googly eyes at his wife . . . she thought maybe there might be something to it. Maybe.

“As Christmases go,” she said, “this one is pretty memorable.”

“That it surely is,” he said, giving her another peck on the head.

Her thoughts about marriage aside, she was happy for her siblings, and quite truthfully loved the new members of her immediate family. Thank God. She was glad Ben was there, that he had postponed his trip south until New Year's Day, so Fiona could go with him.

Yes, she had a lot to be thankful for, really. If the past few months had taught her anything, it was that life was long and yet too, too short. That was why she'd made the decision early on to make the absolute most of hers. Her siblings had gone the more traditional route, but, well, that had never been for her now, had it? She didn't want to think about that, either. About leaving again.

“I'm really, really glad you're here,” she said, sliding one arm around his waist and hugging him closer.

“Me, too, sprite. Me, too.”

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Gus,” she murmured, letting the music, the cake, and the champagne lull her into a light, happy doze. Where she dreamed of another place, another time, and wondered . . . what if . . . ?

Hannah and Calder are having a big Christmas wedding, in snowy Maine, so I wanted something that was elegant, but not necessarily traditional, that also reflected the season. A lovely champagne cake was the perfect elegant foundation, while the luscious red of the cherry pie filling added the perfect bit of color to celebrate the holidays.

Below is my version of their wedding cake. The measurements listed make a regular size cake but can be easily altered to make a wedding cake. Make multiple 9” round cakes to be stacked, tiered, or even made into smaller cupcake versions, and tiered on a cupcake tree. Wouldn't a champagne cupcake tree be perfect for a Christmas wedding? The holiday décor ideas would be endless!

The recipe below features a poured fondant for the icing, but the variations there are boundless as well, from any number of flavored frostings, to a simple powdered sugar dusting, depending on the event. And what could be better on a cold winter night than a warmed up piece of left over champagne cherry pie cake with a little scoop of rich vanilla bean ice cream? Excuse me while I go fix a plate!