Page 2 of Promise Me This Christmas
“Perfect.”
“Let’s test it out.”
He reached for her hand and swept her into his arms.Maybe Bramble House wouldn’t see any new love stories this Christmas.But thankfully, she still had hers.
*
Larkin Carrillo hadbeen roaming the streets of Marietta for hours, in a state of disassociation, impervious to the cold and the snow.She ate breakfast at the Main Street Diner and hardly tasted a bite.She stopped for an Americano at the Java Café, checked out the Western wear store, and popped into a delectable chocolate shop.As a journalist, she was usually extremely observant.Today, however, everything passed in a blur.
She turned a corner and found herself on Collier Avenue, not far from her grandmother’s bungalow.A snowflake landed on her eyelashes, and she blinked it away.
She still couldn’t believe she’d seen Carson Wilcox.In person.Just a few feet away from her.One minute she’d been helping Gran into her seat at the Bramble House breakfast table, and the next she’d noticed a big, broad-shouldered man across the table watching her.
The size of him had been startling.Even seated he’d seemed tall and large.Not fat.The opposite actually.Muscular and solid.Something about him seemed familiar, and she gave him a second look, this time snared by his dark blue eyes.
They’d locked gazes for only a moment, yet it felt as if she’d plunged into icy waters, her breath caught, her nerves jolted.
They’d been eighteen the last time they saw each other, nine years ago.Why was Carson Wilcox here, in Marietta?His ranch—assuming he still lived there—was near the town of Gardiner, more than an hour to the south.How was it possible they’d ended up at the same bed and breakfast?
After her initial shock, she’d noticed the lack of surprise on his face.Why wasn’t he as taken aback to see her as she was to see him?
The chef came out of the kitchen, introduced herself as Jo, and began to run through the morning’s menu.Larkin didn’t hear a word.Blood pounded in her ears and her palms went damp.No, this couldn’t be happening.She didn’t dare take another look at Carson, who she sensed was watching her.Instead, she leaned over to whisper in her gran’s ear.“I need to check on your home renovations.Enjoy your breakfast and I’ll be back later to take you someplace nice for lunch, okay?”
Her poor grandmother had looked confused at being abandoned, but Larkin had seen no other option.No way could she sit across the table from Carson and make polite chitchat.So she’d bolted.Grabbed her coat from her room, slipped on her boots at the main door, and headed out into the snow.
She and Carson Wilcox had grown up together in the small ranching community of Gardiner, Montana, outside of Yellowstone Park.They’d gone to the same school.Been best friends for a time.And then more than that.Though she had other friends, and a full after-school calendar, including being editor for the school paper and playing forward on the girls’ hockey team, Carson had been her world.In fact, if they hadn’t had that one, horrific fight, they might have gone to prom together.Heck, they could even be married by now.
Although they had been young, they’d been so much in love that they’d talked about going to the same college and getting married right after they graduated.She had been so certain that the two of them belonged together.Or at least she had been, until they’d had that big fight, and he’d betrayed her, leading her to the worst night of her life.
It was a time she didn’t want to relive, not even in memory.When she’d left Montana to go to college, she’d been determined to never go back.A decision that had been made easier when her mother took a new job in Denver and her parents relocated.Gratefully she’d taken a job in the city after college, as had her older sister.Her only remaining tie to Montana at that point had been her beloved grandparents, but as they frequently visited them in Colorado, she found it easy to keep her vow to avoid the Treasure State she’d once loved.
And she wouldn’t be here now if her gran hadn’t fallen and broken her hip six weeks ago.Larkin’s mother used up all her vacation days from work to be with Gran during the surgery, and then the transition to a rehab center, where Gran had stayed for over four weeks.So when her parents asked if Larkin would spend the week before Christmas with her grandmother while her house was remodeled for her new needs, how could Larkin refuse?It certainly hadn’t occurred to Larkin that Carson might book into the same B & B.What were the odds of that happening?She couldn’t believe her lousy luck.
Larkin stopped outside the familiar bungalow with its low-pitched roof and welcoming front porch.It was all too easy to imagine her grandparents coming out the front door to welcome her, and for a moment she gave in to a nostalgic longing for happier, childhood days.Every summer she and her older sister, Cara, had visited them for a week, swimming in Miracle Lake, picnicking at River Bend Park, and picking strawberries and raspberries in her grandparents’ big sprawling garden.When she was older and had her driver’s license, she would come for weekends, on occasion bringing along a friend—usually Carson.Gran and Gramps had been so active and healthy back then.
It had been a shock when her grandfather passed during the pandemic.Only her grandmother and parents had been allowed to attend the small funeral.And now her sweet grandmother had been sidelined with her broken hip.Despite the setback, Gran was determined to return to independent living in her own home.But that would only be possible if certain modifications were made: a zero-threshold shower with grab bars there, as well as by the toilet.Her parents had booked a small local firm to do the job, and the work had been scheduled to begin today with a guarantee that it would be complete by Christmas.
So where were they?There were no vehicles parked in front of Gran’s house.No footsteps in the pristine carpet of snow covering the walkway and porch steps.And as Larkin approached the front door, she couldn’t hear any sounds of activity.She took the key her grandmother had given her and let herself in the front door.She passed through the short hall that led to the bathroom then looked through the open doorway with dismay.
Her father had stripped out the old tub to make room for the new shower, but beyond that, nothing had been done.All of the tiles and other materials her father had purchased for the job were untouched.If the construction crew had been here at all, they hadn’t done a damn thing.
She pulled out her phone and called the number for the A Plus Construction Team.She was rewarded with a recorded voice, inviting her to leave a message.“This is Larkin Carrillo.My parents hired you to make some modifications to the bathroom of my grandmother’s house.The work is supposed to be completed by Christmas—one week from now—but it hasn’t even been started.”She gave her grandmother’s address and her own phone number, along with a request that she be contacted as soon as possible.
Damn it, she thought as she ended the call.Her grandmother was going to be so disappointed if this work wasn’t done as promised.
As she locked up the house, she felt weighted down by disappointment and worry.Maybe a little work would help clear her head.Taking the shovel that had been propped up in the back corner of the porch, she cleared the snow off the porch and walkway.As she shoveled the fluffy snow, she wondered how much vetting her parents had done before selecting the contractor.Both her parents were lovely people, respected academics who’d done well in their field of developmental psychology.But they were not always the best when it came to practical decisions.According to her grandmother, Larkin, with her cooly analytical brain, determination, and toughness, took after her grandfather.Back in his day, Gramps had worked for both the Forest Service and the Sheriff’s Department, where he’d worked his way up to the top nonelected position.
She hoped the contractors would call back soon.She and her grandmother were booked through Christmas at Bramble House.But after Christmas morning, the B & B closed for the season.Which didn’t leave many options for either her grandmother or herself.Her boss had given her this week off reluctantly, with the expectation that she be back at work on the twenty-seventh to produce their last issue of the year.She couldn’t let him down.
Job completed, Larkin returned the shovel to the porch and began walking back to Bramble House, in no hurry to get there.She passed a female jogger with a well-trained border collie at her heels, both undeterred by the weather.A minute later, a UPS man with a large package dashed from his truck to the front door of a house where a woman stood at the open door waiting.At Front Avenue, Larkin turned left, taking only a passing interest in the various buildings and businesses around her.And then she saw a sign for theCopper Mountain Courier.
She remembered her grandparents reading the weekly paper, sharing snippets of news, and stories that made them laugh.They always finished with the obituaries, where they seemed to know just about everyone who had died in their close-knit community.
The paper in Denver, where Larkin worked as a staff writer, published a daily news bulletin, as well as a weekly print issue with a circulation of around sixty thousand.It wasn’t theNew York Timesor theWashington Post, but Larkin loved everything about her job, from the hustle and chaos of the newsroom to the excitement of chasing a story, to the feeling of connection being a reporter gave her to her adopted home.
It was her dream to one day move to a bigger city where she could work on important stories of national interest.But for now she was content where she was, living close to her parents and her sister, who was now married with a new baby.
She felt a little sad that she wouldn’t be with them this Christmas.But the sacrifice was worth it to have this time with Gran.Who knew when, if ever, she would have this opportunity again.
