Page 42 of Promise Me This Christmas
“I hope it’s just a string of bad luck, but I don’t know.It doesn’t feel that way.”
“What other explanation is there?”
“Someone put out those brownies,” Amy said.“Maybe that same person is responsible for the other things that went wrong.”
“Wow.That’s a wild idea.”
“I know.Chet thinks I’m being paranoid.But this business means so much to me.All of us have worked so hard to gain the acceptance of the community, and our stellar reputation.But one unfavorable article in theCouriercould destroy all of that.”
“Larkin wouldn’t do that to you,” Carson said.But no sooner had he uttered the reassurance than he wondered if it was true.Larkin was fair-minded, but she could also be tough.She might feel compelled to tell the truth about her week at Bramble House.But how far would she go with that?
*
Two days beforeChristmas, you’d think everyone would be out taking advantage of late-night shopping, but it seemed to Carson that half of Marietta was at Grey’s Saloon with him.He’d come early, to save a private booth near the back.Now he was on edge, nursing his Canadian whiskey, waiting for Andrew to show up.
When they were younger, he and Andrew had a lot in common.They were both oldest sons, who grew up on ranches steeped in Western cowboy culture.Underlying the friendship had been a fierce competitiveness.To be the best football player, to get the highest grades, to be the toughest in the rodeo ring.Though neither of them had gone on to rodeo professionally, they’d spent many hours training at his father’s rodeo school, where they’d fought fiercely for the best time, the highest score.
After high school, however, he and Andrew had quickly lost touch.Andrew went to college in Seattle, while Carson opted for the University of Montana.After graduation, Andrew had taken a job in Bozeman, while Carson had accepted his dad’s offer to take on more of a leadership role on the family ranch.A few times he’d seen Andrew when he was home visiting his folks, but Andrew was on a new path now, one that involved the tech business, earning money, and driving fast cars.Within a few years they’d lost touch completely, and the only news he heard about Andrew came via his mother and what she heard via the grapevine.
It was quarter after six, and Carson was beginning to wonder if Andrew would even show up when he saw a man with red hair and a beard two shades darker step in the main door.He was dressed in tailored pants and a white business shirt.No tie or jacket and the top two buttons of his shirt were unfastened, but he still stood out among the mostly denim-wearing crowd.
Carson stood and waited while Andrew’s gaze swept the room.When they made eye contact, Andrew nodded.Carson remained standing so he could shake Andrew’s hand.There was a slightly awkward moment when it seemed Andrew expected them to hug, but Carson broke eye contact, and sat down quickly.
“Long time, man.”
“At least five years.How’s your wife?And the job?”
“Job is good and so is Ellen.”He pulled at the collar of his shirt.“I guess I should have changed before driving here.This is a real Western bar, isn’t it?”
And what had he been expecting?A fancy wine bar with charcuterie plates?Carson didn’t say this of course.He just smiled.“Isn’t it great?”
A server came and Andrew asked a bunch of questions about the various brands of Scotch before placing his order.
Carson took a sip of whiskey, his gaze on Andrew.He let the silence stretch out, just watching as Andrew grew visibly uncomfortable.First, he shifted on the bench seat.Then he began tapping his fingers on the heavily lacquered wood table.
“What’s new with you?”Andrew finally asked.“Married?”
“Nope.”
“What brings you to Marietta?”
“My sister and her husband own a bed and breakfast in town.I’m staying with them for the holidays.”
“Your sister?”Andrew gave him a blank look.
“From a liaison my dad had before he was married.We only found out about Amy’s existence three years ago.”
“That must have been a shock.Guess your dad wasn’t so perfect after all, huh?”
The insult stung, as it had been intended to.But Carson kept his expression neutral.“Amy’s mother never told Dad about the baby.D.W.would have done the right thing if she had.”
And what would that right thing have been?If D.W.had married Amy’s mother, then Carson and his brothers would never have been born.This was a “what-if” game Carson had long realized wasn’t worth playing.
The server came with Andrew’s drink, and Andrew made a production of swirling the liquid, inhaling the aroma, and taking a taste.
“Good stuff.”
Whatever, Carson thought.He guessed the timing was right to start moving this conversation toward its intended purpose.“You’ll never guess who else is staying at my sister’s bed and breakfast for the holidays.”
