A Chance This Christmas(3)
“Kiersten was always my closest friend,” she reminded her mother. “She never thought I did anything to help Dad with his plan to swindle the locals. And she was the only one who knew I broke up with Luke before the kiss with Gavin.”
“She’s been a good friend.” Her mother pulled a kitchen blind lower to block some of the blinking green light from the wreath on an exterior window. “But you and her groom have a…um, notorious history. Are you sure it’s wise to go to the wedding?”
Rachel resented the way Luke had never cleared her name with the town, at least letting people know that she had broken things off with him before his ill-fated proposal. She’d honored his wishes for weeks after the breakup, keeping the split on the down-low because—he said—he didn’t want the town pitying him in the weeks before he left on a military deployment. Afterward, she’d left town since her father’s betrayal had been a far bigger deal in her mind. She’d always assumed Luke would clear her name eventually. Too bad she hadn’t thought ahead to how her silence would keep her alienated from her home.
Sinking onto one of the counter stools across from the range, Rachel sighed. “I’m here to make peace with him before the ceremony.”
She didn’t mention she also hoped to salvage her standing with the whole town. Judging by Mrs. Garrett’s reaction, the goal seemed a bit lofty. But if she could just smooth things over with Luke, it would fulfill her pact with her friends, make Kiersten happy and—truth be told—ease the guilt she’d carried for eight years because Luke had deserved better than to discover her kissing his best friend on the day he proposed to her in such a public way. They’d all been friends at one point, and her kissing Gavin had driven a wedge between them.
Or so she’d heard.
“You embarrassed Luke in front of the whole town,” her mother reminded her.
Quite unnecessarily.
“That’s why it took so long for me to come back. You have to know that, Mom.” She opened the wooden box full of tea bags kept perpetually stocked on the countertop, choosing chamomile and hoping some of those soothing properties would ease her nerves. Her itchy eyes were a lost cause. Balsam filled the house.
“We were all searching for you when the skywriter message appeared.” Her mother passed a mug of hot water.
Rachel gritted her teeth as she ripped open the tea bag. “I remember.”
Because her mother still recounted the story on a semi-annual basis. And because Rachel had never cared to clarify she’d seen the skywriting for herself, while she was finally in Gavin’s arms after weeks of chasing him. She’d never forgotten the look in his eyes—the betrayal in Gavin’s gaze even though she’d had no idea Luke was contemplating a proposal to win her back. And that had been before Luke found them together. She’d hurt two guys in one fell swoop.
Coming around to sit on a stool beside her daughter, Molly brought a fresh mug of tea for herself, too. “Imagine the poor boy’s humiliation when the whole town was reading ‘Marry Me, Rachel,’ while we searched everywhere for you?”
And of all the luck, Luke had to be the one to find them together. The confrontation had ended any chance she might have had with Gavin Blake, prompting all three friends to leave Yuletide early that summer. Gavin had committed to his snowboard cross training. Luke returned to his army base, and Rachel left for college a month earlier than planned. Her father’s embezzlement and defection ultimately overshadowed all the rest of it anyway.
“I’m sure it was awkward for everyone, Mom, but it was many years ago.”
Her mother patted her hand. “For you and me, maybe. But the Harris family has a memory for old grudges.”
Rachel sipped her tea, agreeing wholeheartedly. The Harris family was the pre-eminent founding family of Harristown, and they’d been holdouts against her father’s whole “Yuletide” makeover from the start. She had thought that was why Luke’s parents had never seemed to like her when they’d been dating. They must have been appalled Luke proposed to her—let alone in such a public way.
“I have my work cut out for me, don’t I?” Rachel observed between sips.
“You know who might be able to help you?” Her mother swiveled in her counter stool, facing her.
“Santa can’t help with this one, Mom.”
Her mother narrowed her blue eyes. “You’d have to get on the nice list first anyhow,” she countered. “But seriously, Rachel, you should talk to our new neighbor.”
“You’ve met the person who bought the house next door?” Rachel remembered her mother saying that there was an offer in on the property, but she hadn’t heard an update about that in weeks.
Her mother slanted a mysterious look over her steaming drink. “It’s Gavin Blake.”
The mug handle slipped from Rachel’s grip, sloshing some hot tea on her hand.
“Who?” She must not have heard correctly. She blew a cooling stream of air along her scorched skin.
Gavin Blake could not be in Yuletide. Surely Kiersten would have mentioned something like that before wheedling Rachel into coming home?
“Gavin,” her mother repeated, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for the other third of the Luke-Rachel-Gavin love triangle to move in next door and for her not to have mentioned it before. “He’s not in town often with his training schedule, but apparently, he wants to invest in Yuletide and retire here one day. Or so I’ve heard. So he’s going to be fixing up the house next door.”