A Chance This Christmas(25)
He’d traded hours of his time and expertise—he was a home builder—putting up a garage for a local art teacher who had given her time to remodel giraffes and horses into reindeer. Finally, her dad had coerced his wife into helping him host parties on this very site to entice community members to come out and help paint every inch of the intricately decorated structure. Instead of a barn-building party, there had been a carousel-painting get-together every weekend for a whole summer. Paint some ivy and holly—get a hotdog. Virtually everyone in town had a hand in the project before the inaugural ride.
“Should we keep walking?” Gavin asked, his hand squeezing hers gently.
Despite her sadness, his touch warmed her, fanning the small flame inside her that had started flickering to life back at the skating rink. She had known spending time with him would be dangerous to her peace of mind, but she hadn’t expected him to stir so many emotions beyond their obvious chemistry.
“I’d like that.” She nodded, her voice a husky whisper. “I don’t think I’ll be visiting the carousel again anytime soon.”
“For what it’s worth, I put a call in to the state historical society to see if it qualifies for their protection since it dated back farther than our town.” He led her to the outskirts of the park where gently sloped hills made for good sledding with young children.
Rachel stuck close to Gavin, her boots made for fashion more than trekking through snow.
“Thank you for doing that.” She was touched he’d thought of it. “You can’t have much time to devote to your home here with your training schedule. It means a lot that you want to help this place.”
“I was just glad I thought of it. I’d considered proposing a plan to restore it at a town meeting but then—” He stopped suddenly, his attention focused on two men on the hill above them who appeared to be holding a string or maybe a measuring tape between them.
“What is it?” she asked, following his line of sight.
“That’s Dewey, the town engineer.” Gavin was already striding toward them, tugging her along with him. “The other guy works at one of the local ski resorts as a groomer.”
She wondered if he was just in a hurry to say hello to a friend or if something was wrong. She didn’t ask because he was already hailing the pair, waving one arm as his long strides carried him uphill.
“You’re far from home,” he called to the groomer, a very fair man in all black with an ID badge and ski pass clipped to the zipper of his jacket. “What brings you to Yuletide, Sven?”
Something in Gavin’s tone warned her of his mood. A hint of tension threaded through his voice. She could feel it in his body too, even though they only held hands.
“Gavin!” The other man grinned, greeting him warmly with a clap on the back as the man juggled his tape measure to the opposite hand. “Good to see you, even if you belong on the other side of the globe this week.” With a laugh, Sven gave another one-armed hug. “You need to train, my friend. This is your year to bring home the gold.”
“I’m home for a good friend’s wedding,” Gavin replied before turning back to her. “Rachel, this is Sven Neelson and you might remember Dewey Lars from high school.”
She shook hands with both men, recalling the Lars family who ran the Snowball Snack Shack on the opposite end of Main Street from where she’d grown up. But there was no time to reminisce since Gavin quickly commandeered the conversation.
“So what are you working on?” he asked. “Looks like you’re doing some surveying.”
Dewey, a former athlete who had been a football star, tucked his clipboard under one arm. “Just an informal one, Gavin,” he answered, his whole manner guarded.
Sven didn’t hold back. “The town wants to do a feasibility study for a cross-country skiing course right through town.” He gestured toward the ridge above the sledding hill. “We’re trying to map out somewhere with the right grades.”
Rachel’s heart sank at the news, and she could only imagine how Gavin felt as Sven went on to regale them with a funny story about getting the call from the Yuletide mayor while Sven was on a high peak near Whiteface Mountain, trying to fix a piece of grooming equipment in the dark. It was just as well Sven had something to say to fill the awkward aftermath of that revelation. Otherwise, she had the feeling Gavin would have had some choice words for Dewey—who most who surely knew the idea for a cross-country trail had come from Gavin. For charitable purposes.
After a few pleasantries—terse ones for the engineer and more heartfelt for Sven—Gavin strode down the hill and away from the men. Now that they were alone on the walk back to the playground, Rachel could see the anger etched in Gavin’s handsome face.
“Maybe they will get the trail up and running, then use it for charitable events too,” she suggested, hoping the mayor and his group would do the right thing. “Even the most thrifty community member should see the publicity boost an event like yours would bring.”
“If that’s the case, it seems strange no one on the council let me know they were going to follow up on my idea.” He huffed out a sigh as they reached the Jack Frost Playhouse with small slides and a maze of tubes for smaller children. “And if they’re just looking to make a buck off tourists on new trails while they let beloved entertainment areas go to ruin, they aren’t being good guardians of Yuletide’s resources.”